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darnianwayne · 5 years ago

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gdi batman doesn’t kill for a Reason: a character study

first let’s get this one out of the way: in canon batman is and likely will always be presented as a wealthy, white man of privilege and he Specifically should not have unilateral license to kill due to that. because well... COME ON!! if i have to explain this one, This Post Is Not For You

now, batman’s reasons for not killing are not because “killing would make him as bad as the rogues uwu” and if that’s your interpretation then i am sorry on behalf of recent bad comics and adaptations that have so diluted batman’s character to be closer to a sick, man-child perversion than an actual superhero with all the grey morality and social responsibity that truly implies

as a character, batman is first and foremost a detective who actively works with the only non-corruptable “good cop” he cound find in a city that is so historically corrupt and disenfranchised that at one point after an earthquake decimated gotham, the national government basically threw up its hands, shrugged, and abandoned gotham’s survivors to anarchy. batman is a symbol to the people of gotham for hope and protection against all manner of evils - not only from the criminal underbelly but from the corruption that mutated gotham’s systems of power from woefully incompetent to actively harmful to its citizenry. batman is a traumatized man who was once a happy child who watched his parents murdered in front of him and decided never again. batman is a father who realized if he ever used his role as batman to take a life, he would be sanctioning his children to do the same in his name

the batman character is a lot of things. but batman is not, should not, and cannot be judge, jury, and executioner. to paint him as a brutalizer that goes mad with power when presented with low-level criminals is disingenuous at best and actively harmful to the batman symbology of heroism at worst. even to say that batman should kill only in extreme cases like joker, who is undeniably a horrible piece of non-human excrement whose death would actually be a net good for all of dc in-universe society, it would be completely against who batman is as a character to have him break his morals like that. batman, bruce wayne, is a man who tries to use every tool at his disposal to bring about justice and prevent death: using his company to hire the disenfranchised in gotham including ex-cons, single-handedly funding gotham’s charities, and ofc using batman to find evidence to bring down powerful crime bosses and corrupt politicians alongside the rogues gallery. batman is one man whose symbol and legacy is larger than he is, but who is still only One Man

batman doesn’t kill not because he’s too good for it. he doesn’t kill because he’s too SMALL for it! bruce inherently values human life to the point where he believes one man cannot decide whether another human being lives or dies. that’s his whole stance when bruce inevitably butts heads with members of his own family who don’t subscribe to his point of view!

and yeah there’s always room in the Disk Horse to talk about whether or not batman is doing enough or if his morality is too simple and he actually should, logistically speaking, “cross the line.” those conversations are welcome in the context of all batman mythology: if batman and his universe existed, would bruce wayne’s batman be the form he should take? tbh idk and i am not here for thought experiments of what form superheroism would take in “real world” scenarios. there’s plenty of other fiction and media that have tackled that question, with results ranging from absolute fascist-glorification garbage to genuinely good works that challenge consumers’ preconceived notions of what a “superhero” would truly look like (watchmen, the ultimate batman au fanfic, is a great example)

the character of batman in-universe serves as a hard moral compass example to his family and other heroes not because it’s simple and easy - but because it’s HARD to believe human life is inherently valuable in the face of all the atrocities and horrors bruce has seen humans do to one another. and the question of whether or not the human monsters batman faces are worthy of their lives is straight up not one bruce wayne contends with. bruce has made his position clear and he is steadfast. but those types of questions are valuable anyway, and though we know batman’s answer, it’s metatextually important batman is challenged for his morality. in the batman mythos, jason todd is the clearest example of a character type that confronts those life-death questions, chooses differently, and that batman and we the readers have to decide who to agree with

at this point the batman “no killing” morality is a whole arechetype in and of itself. the batman archetype of heroism and vigilantism has inspired or informed the interpretation of most if not all other vigilante-like heroes that have been created since the early 20th century. so in a lot of ways batman has the simple rule of “no killing” because we as consumers don’t want a hero who kills. we live in a reality where innocent people are murdered by the powers that be, where cops murder civilians in cold blood, and call those crimes deserved and just. so we build fiction where that “reality,” that fun-house mirror of absolute power, is cleansed and where an individual has that same power of impunity and deliberately chooses not to use it. heroism in comics is an idealized version of what we wish existed in our own society: somebody with the actual power and ability to make a difference for the greater good without moral bankruptcy. it’s easy when you put it like that. batman exists in the vacuum of fiction, so the decisions he makes as a character do not have to be as complicated as real life. and the dc mythos is rich enough that batman is actively challenged on his stances by others even within his own family and honestly he should be! as a character batman has to be given the option to change his mind, and as a literary device readers have to be reminded of the moral choice at stake. It’s Good Writing Babey!! tho admittedly it’s this aspect that is most actively (and probably rightfully) criticized BECAUSE batman never changes his mind. and for a character with mythology that is over 80 years old - that’s a long time for the cultural and moral zeitgeist of superheroes to remain unchanged, especially considering the “no killing” rule has become a hard rule for all mainstream superheroes

tbh the assumption that batman, bruce wayne, does not kill because then he would essentially be the same as his villains gallery, morally-speaking - it doesn’t hold that much water. do you have ANY idea how much canon bruce wayne suffers from self-hatred and constantly questions his own actions?? even the batmans of bad storylines where he’s a grimdark, I Work Alone caricature, batman is a master of self deprication and loathing. he’s a man of few words and hard lines, but he is as likely to think of himself as morally equal to, say, deathstroke (in the sense they are both powerful, capable men who live and die by their choices) than superman. bruce does not believe he has the moral high ground, ever. batman believes he cannot make the choice to kill, so he doesn’t. simple as that

tldr batman doesn’t kill because killing is bad. it’s not that deep

#batman #bruce wayne #sunspeak #the batman is not an interesting character bc he doesnt kill Disk Horse has driven me here #how tone deaf can you be?#long post

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luckyspike · 5 years ago

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You really dungeon my dragons babey - a Good Omens fanfic about D&D

Here’s the AO3 link if you want to read it there instead.

Basically, Newt wants to start a D&D group. Anathema recruits two players: one is a being of neutral good, and the other chaotic evil. Roll initiative.

They’ve lived in Jasmine Cottage for about two years when Anathema started to worry about Newt a little. Not much, but a little. Oh, he wasn’t sick, there was nothing wrong with him per se, but, well. She thought about Tadfield, and the cottage, and Newt.

He worked in the village, doing grant writing for a non-profit. It was a wonderful job for him, and he fell into it shortly after the Nahpocalypse - Adam said Pepper’s mom was looking for someone to help her out with the business, and things had just gone from there. Anathema still harbored some suspicion that Adam had had perhaps a little more to do with it than just overhearing Pepper’s mom talking shop, but he swore innocence (not that she believed him, but he was such a good kid she let it slide) and Newt loved the job, flourished in it even, and Anathema had been content. She herself earned a living doing telephone psychic readings*, and made herself a fixture in the village. After all, what quaint little village doesn’t love having a witch in this modern age? She did her readings, and helped out at the primary school when they needed it, and coordinated the community garden. Eight months into her residency, a bashful RP Tyler approached her and apologized, actually apologized for accusing her of smoking fatty spliffers (which she and Crowley had adopted as the de facto term for anything involving marijuana at all), and thanked her for coming to town and her service to the community, even if she was a witch. She had ingrained herself into the little village of Tadfield, and she made friends, and in spite of not having a road map for her life any longer, she was happy.

And Newt, she thought, seemed very happy too. He said he was happy. He went to work and returned home and fussed over Dick Turpin and meddled with computers in the office (he had not improved, but he had a good time, so that was what counted). He played with The Them when they asked him, and helped them with homework, and always was on Anathema’s arm whenever she went out. He took her on lovely dates, and made her laugh every day, and was so wonderfully Newt that she couldn’t imagine life without him. Agnes, blast her, had been very right about that one.

But even in light of all that - in light of the perfect life they seemed to have settled into in Tadfield - she worried. She thought about her life and his, and contrasted the two, and thought about how she had friends in the village and long-distance that she liked to call, visit, do things with. And she thought about Newt, and considered that most of his activities were solitary. She mulled it over for months. He was much more introverted than she was, true, and valued his personal time, but unless he was doing something with her, or with The Them, he entertained himself exclusively.

She wondered if that would be his choice.

She brought it up in the fall, two years in, over lunch at the pub in the village. He paused, sandwich in hand, chewing thoughtfully. He swallowed and then said, “I’m not really sure I follow what you mean.”

“I mean,” Anathema went on, stealing a few chips from his plate, “that I just want to make sure your needs are being met. Are your hobbies okay, or is there something that you want to do but haven’t been able to because you don’t have anybody to do it with?” She raised her eyebrows. He frowned. “I mean, I know some people in the village, at the air base, so maybe I could introduce you if you want to like, take up, oh, I don’t know, horseshoes or something.”

“Horseshoes?” He laughed. “Why horseshoes?”

“It was just an example.” She shrugged and stole a few more chips. “I’m just asking, no pressure. But you know, you work on computers by yourself, and take care of Dick Turpin by yourself -”

“Sometimes Brian helps.”

“Mostly by yourself,” she amended, “and you don’t do pub quiz nights or a book club or anything, not that you should want to do those things, of course, but, you know, do you?”

Newt took another bite, and smiled at her, which managed to be charming even with a cheekful of roast beef. “Never really been one for pub quiz or reading. Well, except the newspaper.” He swallowed. “Thanks for asking but, you know I really am very happy.”

“Good.” She returned his smile, and stole another three chips. At this point, Newt had resolved himself to simply not getting any, and didn’t say anything. “Just making sure.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes, Newt idly watching the cricket match on the pub TV and Anathema checking in with a cat she’d spoken to a few weeks ago who had been very disgruntled and wanted to be sure her owner knew to stop giving her a certain brand of food. The cat assured her that all was well, and thank you for checking, and Anathema was just about to return her attention to her boyfriend when he spoke. “You know, there is something I haven’t done in years, used to do it as a kid, but it might be fun if we can find a few more people to do it with.”

“Oh?”

“You ever played Dungeons and Dragons?”

Anathema kept her face carefully blank. “Is that … like, Dungeons and Dragons, where you roll dice and pretend to be a wizard?”

“Yeah, the roleplaying game. Have you ever played?”

“No.”

“It’s pretty fun if you have a good group,” Newt went on happily. “I used to play with a few people when I was in sixth form. We got together twice every month and the one guy - his name was Martin, I think - would run the sessions. I was a barbarian.”

“A barbarian?” Anathema laughed. “Seriously?”

“Yeah! Named ‘Urgular’.” He sighed. “He died about four months into the campaign, got killed by some harpies, but Martin let him get resurrected by magic so I could keep playing.” A thoughtful look crossed his face. “Wish I could remember his last name … I really should have kept in touch with him. Maybe my mum’ll remember.”

Anathema shifted in her seat, sitting on her hands and thinking it over. “How many people do you need to play?”

“Oh? Oh, at least four. Three players and one dungeon master. That’s the person that runs the game session,” he clarified, when Anathema raised an eyebrow and smirked. “It’s better if you have four players though, so a group of five is better. That’s how many we had.”

Anathema thought about it, chewing her lip. “So say we could get three other people.”

“Who?”

She held up a hand. “Say we can get three other people. Would you want to play? You’d probably have to run the game, unless we find someone who’s played before.”

Newt looked surprised. “You’d play?”

“Of course.” She shrugged. “I’ve never done it before, but I listen to that podcast you like where they play, and it seems like fun.” She raised her eyebrows. “You want me to ask around?”

“I can ask around too,” he said, eagerly. “You know what, yeah. Yeah! Let’s see if we can get some people together for a session, just a one-shot session, and see how it goes. If it’s fun, we can make it a regular thing!”

Anathema laid her hands on the table. “Alright, that’s settled. I’ll ask some people, you ask some people, we can see if we can make it work. And you’re sure you’ll still have fun if you’re in charge?”

“Might even be more fun,” he replied, with a glint in his eye. “Yeah, let’s do it. You know, I can think of a few people to ask, let me know if you find anybody too.”

It proved harder than she thought. First of all, while she was sure The Them would be more than willing to play, she wanted to try to keep the group to adults. She asked a few friends from the air base, but they all turned her down for various reasons (one sergeant had been very eager and accepted initially, but called her a few days later with the news that she was being transferred back to America, and wouldn’t be able to join). She asked around at the school, too, but in most cases they cited problems finding childcare or reluctance to play. Newt had somewhat better luck, and managed to find one person to join - Pepper’s mother, his boss - but he, too, struck out after pooling his group of coworkers. Days turned into weeks, and the issue gradually slid from both of their minds, although Pepper’s mom would ask Newt about it sometimes, checking for any developments.

Anathema had completely forgotten about it, actually, until one evening about a month after their lunch at the pub, when she was on one of her sporadic but always-pleasant phone calls with Aziraphale. They were talking - just social chat, nothing serious - and he asked after Newt, as usual. “He’s good,” she said, lounged back on the sofa, legs crossed and free hand tucked into her sweatshirt pocket against the early winter chill. “No big developments. He likes work, he’s still awful with computers, and he still loves his car.” She adjusted her glasses, and sighed. “We were trying to get together a group to play Dungeons and Dragons - he used to play in school and he liked it a lot - but we’ve been having trouble organizing it, so, you know, holding pattern on that.”

She was surprised when the angel said, “Oh, the roleplaying game with the dice?”

It was so out-of-the-ordinary for Aziraphale, perpetually stuck 100 years in the past, to know anything modern that she needed a second to recover. “Yeah,” she said, eventually. “You know it?”

“There’s a group that meets in the bookshop once a month to play. I make them tea.” Of course he did. “It seems interesting, I suppose.”

Anathema blinked. Should she … ? Oh, why not? she figured. You stop the apocalypse with someone, playing some roleplaying game was hardly a marriage proposal**. “We have room in the group - Newt was hoping to get five people, but right now we only have three, and he said we could play with four.”

She heard him humming as he thought. “Why not? I’ll have the group in the shop give me a lesson.”

She laughed, and tried to imagine that conversation. “I don’t know how to play at all, so I’m assuming it’s fine if you don’t know anything.”

“Well, perhaps just a brief overview. You said a group of five would be preferable?”

“Yeah, but we’ve had so much trouble just finding four. And Newt and Marion - that’s Pepper’s mom - are really eager to start playing, so if you really want to join we can -”

“I’ll bring Crowley.”

That gave her pause. Crowley was … he was a demon of many talents and a colorful and varied history, but somehow she was having difficulty imagining him playing D&D. “Has he … played?”

“Not that I know of.” She almost cut in, but something in Aziraphale’s tone of voice - yes, yes, it was mischief, that was it, Anathema had learned that early on because for an angel, Aziraphale did like to stir it up every once in a while - stopped her. “I’m sure he’ll take right to it.”

“You think?”

“At the very least it will be extremely entertaining. He doesn’t do anything by halves.” A tinge of concern broke in. “It can be a blessing and a curse.”

“No, no he doesn’t.” She smiled, already imagining various ways Newt’s game could go with the introduction of an actual being of chaotic evil. “Will he say yes?”

“What’s he going to claim, work conflict? He’ll say yes.” He sounded smug. “I’ll tell him about it later tonight. Do you have a date established for this?”

“Not yet - we’ll have to talk to Marion and make sure it works for everybody. If you tell Crowley tonight, can I text him the possibilities?”

“Certainly. I look forward to it.” The amusement dropped, and he changed the subject, “Which, speaking of Crowley, did I tell you he’s set on having an exhibit at Chelsea Flower Show next year? He’s got so many plants in the house I’m starting to think we’re going to have to start breathing just to make sure they get enough carbon dioxide …” He went on, and Anathema listened, but she was also thinking. She couldn’t wait to tell Newt.

She sent a text with a few Saturdays to Crowley two days later, after she told Newt, he had time to freak out about it slightly***, and Newt had spoken with Marion about her schedule. If the demon was unhappy about it, she couldn’t tell, although he was usually not particularly emotive in text message format. They exchanged a few more messages, setting a final date and confirming, and that was that as far as she was concerned. Two days before the chosen Saturday, she decided to start working on her character. Newt had been working on the game session furiously since she’d told him she’d found two more players, and she suspected he was diligently trying to engineer a way that Crowley’s character could not die. Either that, or he was writing a really brilliant story. As she flipped through the player manual, chapter 1, and read about classes and races and abilities and points, she smiled and considered, knowing Newt, it was probably both.

She did get a little stuck, unfamiliar with the mechanics of the game, and on Friday night she and Newt sat down with a bottle of wine to go over both her character (he had already checked Marion’s at work earlier that day just to be sure everything was as it should be) and allow him to express any anxiety he continued to have about the game. She assured him that she felt he would do a great job - he would, there were no computers involved at all and Newt really was a very good storyteller - and that Crowley certainly wouldn’t kill him with both Aziraphale and Marion, an outsider, present, and therefore Newt had nothing to be concerned about. He clearly disagreed, but it did seem to calm him down somewhat, and he only tossed and turned for about 30 minutes before drifting off to his usual dead-to-the-world slumber that night.

Saturday dawned gray and rainy. Perfect, Anathema thought, for staying in. She dressed in her most comfortable flannel dress, and set to making bread for the afternoon. Newt had picked up a variety of cheeses, dried fruit, nuts, and jams yesterday as well, and she was planning on serving the bread with it, which would allow everybody to eat whatever they liked and as much as they liked. Aziraphale had kindly offered to bring something sweet to compliment the savory, as well as a bottle of wine (which Anathema knew would amount to several bottles of very nice wine, per his usual), so rather than getting any wine out she pulled down a bottle of whisky from the cabinet, as well as the usually-unused espresso machine. Around nine-thirty, she heard Newt upstairs, moving around and getting ready, eventually padding into the office, presumably to make any last-minute adjustments. Anathema, with the bread in the oven and everything as ready as she could think to make it for whatever might happen that afternoon, went to the living room to make a few scheduled phone calls - there was a horse in Surrey who wouldn’t go in its stall, and a dog in Indiana that kept eating chair legs, and two owners who were very concerned about their respective pets - while she waited.

Marion arrived first, promptly at two. Anathema welcomed her in, hung up her raincoat - “it’s awful out there, cold and coming down like anything, glad Pep and the others were happy to stay in rather than try to go to that chalk pit in this weather” - and led the way to the living room. “We’re expecting two more,” she explained, raising her voice a little as she went to the kitchen to get the other woman a glass of water. “They’ll be fashionably late, as usual.”

“Friends of yours?” Marion asked when Anathema returned. “The bread smells delicious, by the way, thank you for baking.”

“No trouble, my pleasure. And yeah, we met them a couple of years ago when I was new in town. I had … some trouble with my bike (In that Crowley hit it with his car, she thought) and they gave me a ride home. Of course I forgot some stuff in their car, so we had to meet again so I could get that back, and we just sort of stayed in touch ever since.”

Marion beamed. “How nice. I’m very excited - I’ve always wanted to play this, but I could never convince anyone in the commune to play with me.” She laughed. “Much more interested in guitar circles, that group. Anyway, after I left, I went straight back to school and it was just me and Pep and I got so busy raising her and working and all that I sort of forgot about it. Funny how it worked out though!”

“Yeah,” Anathema laughed. “I’ve always been a big believer in things working out the way they’re supposed to. Can I get you anything else to drink? Newt should be down in a minute.”

“Oh some tea would be lovely, thank you, Anathema.” She pulled out a character sheet and a notebook, and smiled encouragingly. “I need a minute to look over this anyway.”

“Yeah,” she laughed, standing. “Newt helped me last night with that. I think I have about a tenth of what I’m going to need to know handled.”

Marion looked relieved. “Thank goodness someone feels the same way. I was afraid I was missing something.”

“No, not at all. Newt’s the only one that’s played before, although Mister, um Mr. Fell, that will be joining us, he owns a bookshop in Soho and said there’s a group that plays there once a month, so he’s picked up a little from them.”

“Oh, interesting!” She nodded, and then returned to her notebook, double-checking the scribbled numbers and items against the player manual. Anathema excused herself and headed into the kitchen to put the kettle on - Newt was on his way downstairs anyway, if the creaking of the floorboards was any indication, and Crowley and Aziraphale probably weren’t long off.

The kettle had just clicked off and Anathema had poured three cups of tea - Newt, Marion, Aziraphale - as well as made one espresso - Crowley - when the knock came at the door. Fashionably late, as usual. She left the tea to steep, and answered it. The duo were on the step, Aziraphale with two notebooks tucked under his arm and a bag of what Anathema assumed to be dice in his hand, and Crowley holding two bottles of wine and balancing a plate of biscuits, possibly nominally happy. It was pouring, they did not have any semblance of raingear, and they were perfectly dry. Typical.

“Come in!” She stepped aside to allow both entry - the horseshoe above the door sizzled in the rain as it heated and cooled - and exchanged a hug with Aziraphale before taking the wine and plate from Crowley. “Can I take any coats? I made tea. And coffee. It’s extremely hot.”

“You’re a lifesaver.” Crowley stayed hunched in his jacket. “It’s freezing. How is it not snowing?”

Aziraphale patted his shoulder. “Because it’s not actually freezing, dear, it’s just winter. And I told you to bring the heated coat.”

Anathema blinked. “Heated coat?”

“S’got batteries in, stays really warm,” the Serpent of Eden replied. “I’ll be fine in twenty.”

“I’ll get the coffee. Newt and Marion - that’s Pepper’s mother - are already in the living room. If you want, I’m sure Newt can double-check everything for you before we get started. He helped me last night, and I think he’s just making sure things are alright with Marion now.”

Aziraphale looked relieved. “Oh, good. I’m fairly certain I have the right of it at this point, but the group at the shop cancelled this month because of exams so I couldn’t have anybody check it beforehand.”

“Mine’s fine,” Crowley said. Anathema tried not to think too much about the grin that accompanied that. “Got it all figured out.”

“Right. I’ll, uh. I’ll be right in then.” By the time she finished setting the drinks on a tray and joined everyone, introductions had been made and papers and notebooks and dice were laid out on the table. Newt had laid her place for her, to his right, while he had a little cardboard screen set up. Aziraphale and Marion were chatting and Crowley was studying what Anathema could only assume was his character sheet, holding it so it was concealed from the other players, and he was positively beaming. It couldn’t be good. She knew that look. Aziraphale was, resolutely, ignoring him.

“Okay,” Newt said, nervousness apparent in his voice but determination on his face. “Now we’re all settled uh, why don’t we kind of go through everyone’s character together, just basics to sort of clarify who your character is and why they might be going on an adventure. Anathema, do you want to start?”

She nodded and picked her sheet up. “Ok. I’ll be playing Tovi, a halfling sorcerer. She was initially raised by a close family, but the homebody lifestyle was not exciting enough for her, so she decided to strike out on her own.”

“Great! Awesome. And we checked your sheet already, so that’s fine. Marion?”

Marion sat forward, hands on her character sheets, reading carefully. “I’ll be playing Brandeen, a human warlock. She comes from a very religious family who shunned her when she formed a pact with Ghaunadar.”

“Good name, Ghaunadar,” Crowley said. “Very spooky.”

“I thought so, too,” Marion agreed, folding her hands in her lap. “Anyway, that’s me.” She looked to Aziraphale, to her right, who set his tea down carefully.

“Ah, so this character is called, ah, Aldriel Lightmace, and he’s an elf paladin. He was initially in the army, but on completion of his service he chose to continue traveling rather than return home.”

Newt nodded. “Sounds great, and your sheet looked fine.” He swallowed, and looked to the demon, grinning like a jackal to his left. “I’m almost afraid to ask.” Aziraphale sighed, Marion giggled, and Anathema propped her chin in her hand. “Crowley?”

“I,” he said, every single indicator being that he was delighted with himself as he slapped the notebook down on the table, “will be Chastity the tiefling bard. I was forced to leave town for 1) being a demon and 2) being annoying.”

Aziraphale scowled. “A bit on the nose, don’t you think?”

“Play what you feel comfortable with, the book said. Anyway you’re one to talk.”

Anathema covered her eyes. “Are you going to sing?” She had heard Crowley sing before, either after many drinks or a particularly potent fatty spliffer, and it had made her second-guess all of the things she’d heard about the beautiful harmonious choirs of angels. Of course, Crowley was not technically an angel anymore, so maybe he’d lost that at some point. If not, then she’d considered that the beauty of the Heavenly Choir had probably been greatly over-exaggerated.

“Of course I am.”

Newt grimaced. “Great. So that’s … that’s actually an okay party in terms of balance. Should be fine for today, anyway. Can I see your character sheet, please? Just to … just to check?” Crowley handed it over, the big reveal done with, and Newt duly checked it for accuracy. “Right. Fine. You don’t need many intelligence points anyway, I guess.” He handed the sheet back, and visibly steeled himself. “Okay. So … that’s everyone. Is everyone ready?” He took a breath. “Right, so we start in an inn, at the bar. The inn isn’t crowded, there’s a group of three adventurers talking to a grizzled old dwarf in one corner, he appears to be giving them a job, and there’s a few other patrons at the bar. There barkeep is cleaning a glass. What do you do?”

Anathema considered it. “I think Tovi is at the bar ordering a drink.”

“Brandeen is sitting quietly in a corner by herself, watching.”

“Aldriel is going to approach the elf sitting alone at the end of the bar and -”

“Chastity is going to hit on Aldriel immediately.”

Marion and Anathema laughed. Aziraphale looked at Crowley, exasperated. “Really?”

“Yes.”

Marion held up a hand. “How long have you two known each other?”

“Too long,” Aziraphale answered peevishly, while Crowley sat back, still grinning, arms crossed over his chest. “Alright, so if you’re going to do that, Aldriel will -”

“You don’t want to hear the pick-up line?”

“I do not.”

Anathema and Newt shared a look. Newt, under the nerves, was smiling a little. “I do,” she said.

Crowley leaned back in. “So anyway, Chastity walks up to Aldriel and says ‘glad I brought my library card, because I’m checking you out’.”

“That’s awful,” Aziraphale groaned. Marion and Anathema laughed. Newt’s smile broadened. “Truly horrible.”

“Innit, though?”

“Brandeen is definitely watching this with interest,” Marion added, still laughing.

“I think Tovi heard what might be the world’s worst pickup line and turned around, too.”

Aziraphale considered this. “Aldriel punches Chastity in the face.”

“Okay - what?” Newt stopped. “Uh, I, what? You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

Newt tapped the table. “Because I think technically you have to be lawful good and -”

Aziraphale corrected, “Actually, Aldriel took the Oath of the Ancients, therefore he is able to be neutral good.” He squared his shoulders. “This demon has sullied my purity, and I won’t have it. I punch her.”

Newt blinked, and then sighed. “Alright. Fine. Both of you roll initiative, I guess.”

The game rolled on from there. Luckily, Newt thought on his feet quickly enough to stop the barroom brawl between what would be the party’s two healers before either of them killed the other. Anathema reflected that it was actually quite good Crowley had started off with that, because it lightened the mood considerably and made everyone feel more comfortable with the game. Not that she would ever tell him that.

Gradually, Newt managed to coax Marion’s character into talking to the NPC he needed them to in order to get their quest, and they set out on a relatively straightforward mission to deliver a package to the neighboring town. Anathema quickly learned, however, that in Dungeons and Dragons, a straightforward quest usually leads to four hours’ worth of bickering, irrelevant tangents (“Aldriel wants to investigate the interesting rock formation you mentioned.” “But it’s on the other side of the woods -” “Yes?”), further attempts at pick-up lines, Crowley singing five absolutely terrible “songs” (discernable as songs only because the gameplay implied it, and a clear attempt at singing was made, without any actual success), Marion’s character also singing a song to her patron to try to gain an extra spell slot (she did get a point of inspiration, and Anathema rather suspected that it was because unlike Crowley, Marion was actually quite a nice singer), Anathema’s character getting attacked by a coyote for trying to follow Aldriel, an actual planned encounter with highway bandits, and, eventually, success at delivering the package, although it should be noted that this was only because Newt, having exhausted his reserves of patience, acceded that someone had probably remembered to pick the package back up after Tovi and Chastity threw it into a ditch to better loot the dead bodies of the bandits.

Later, Newt would tell her that all things considered, that was a very normal session, and it had gone well. She’d breathed a sigh of relief and then wondered what a chaotic session would look like. Probably best not to ask.

They had switched to wine halfway through, when the biscuits came out, and Marion was cradling her glass in both hands. “What fun, hm? We’ll have to do it again sometime. That is, if it’s alright with everyone.”

Newt shot Anathema a desperate look, and she shrugged. “I’d be in, but maybe not for at least a month. The holidays are coming up and everything, I’ll probably be visiting America.”

Marion nodded. “Oh yes, certainly. No, I definitely won’t have time until after the new year.”

“Yeah, definitely have to do it again.” Crowley elbowed Newt, who clutched his wineglass more tightly, in a protective stance. “Great idea, Newt.”

Anathema didn’t miss the subtext to Aziraphale’s question of “Do you think we’ll use the same characters again?”

Newt considered it. “I guess it’s up to you all. You’re still low enough in level that I can write a scenario either way, and we can do whatever everybody would prefer.”

“I’d like to play Brandeen some more, at least while I get comfortable with the game,” said Marion. She took a sip of wine, and then looked at her watch. “Oh, look how late it is! Pep was expecting me half an hour ago.” She downed the rest of the wine and looked outside. “Still miserable outside as well.” She stood and shook hands around the table while they said goodbyes, exchanged a hug and a kiss on each cheek with Anathema, and then waved, for good measure. “Lovely meeting you. You said you live in South Downs?”

Aziraphale nodded. “Right along the coast, yes.”

“Well, drive safely. And thank you both,” she said, turning to Anathema and Newt, “for the hospitality. It really was very lovely.”

“Let me get your coat.” Newt followed her to the door, leaving Anathema alone with the pair of supernatural entities, who were debating the quality of the wine Aziraphale had brought. When they heard Marion exchange her final goodbyes with Newt, and the front door closed, Aziraphale turned to Crowley.

“Really? A demon who was kicked out of town for being annoying? And where did you learn those dreadful pick-up lines?”

Crowley laughed. “Play what you know, angel. Anyway, not like you really mixed it up with the whole holy warrior bit. At least I was a bard.”

“Yes, we’ll address that later, possibly on the drive home.” He looked to Anathema, trying to be apologetic while simultaneously trying not to laugh. “I’m so sorry, Anathema, you really can’t take him anywhere.”

She chuckled. “You’re always welcome here. Both of you. If you want to stay, I was going to make spaghetti for Newt and I tonight, and there’s more than enough …” She trailed off, and looked to the kitchen. “There’s still half a bottle of wine in there.”

“We’d hate to impose,” said Aziraphale. “You’re certainly welcome to the wine. It’s the least we can do for the lovely afternoon.”

“Seriously, don’t worry about it.” She moved to the kitchen, picked up the wine, and topped both glasses off. The bottle did not feel any lighter afterwards. “Stay awhile, wait to see if the weather clears up. They way it’s been raining people’ll be hydroplaning and who knows what.”

“Half the fun of driving in the rain,” Crowley suggested, earning him a disapproving look from Aziraphale. He sighed. “Listen, you don’t have to invite me twice - the less I have to go out in this weather the better.”

“If you’re very sure, Anathema.”

“I am very sure.” She sat down on the couch and nursed her wine a little as Newt came back in. “They’re staying for dinner.”

“Oh. Okay.” He scooped his own glass up from the table before joining her on the couch. “Should I get it started then?”

“Not just yet.” She elbowed him in the side, gently. “So that was fun. How about you, dungeon master? Did you have fun?”

“I …” he thought about it. “Yeah, I did. I have a lot more respect for Martin, too. He was the dungeon master when I learned to play,” he added, for Crowley and Aziraphale’s benefit.

“Is it really called a dungeon master?” Crowley asked, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds kinky.” Anathema snorted.

“Or game master,” Newt said, hurriedly.

“Eh, slightly better. Not much.”

“Would you want to do it again?” Anathema asked. “Like, be in charge again? I’m sure it wouldn’t be as good but if you want a break, someone else could take the reins next time. We could trade it around, even.”

Newt waved a hand. “No, no I’ll do it again. I kind of have an idea for a longer story, if everyone is willing and able to do more than one session at a time.”

Aziraphale looked to Crowley. “We don’t have anywhere to be in the near future that can’t be re-scheduled. I’d like to hear the story out, as well.” He tilted his glass to Newt. “You ought to write a book, you know, you’re very good.”

“Oh. Oh, uh. Thanks,” Newt mumbled, suddenly studying his wine very closely indeed, a red flush overtaking his ears and cheeks. “That’s … that means a lot, coming from you.”

Crowley scoffed. “No it doesn’t, just because he reads every waking minute doesn’t negate that he’s a being of eternal love and light and goodwill and whatever. He’s always nice.” Newt blinked at the demon, who, at length, shrugged. “I’ve heard worse stories.”

“Crowley,” the angel admonished.

“Fine, I’ll go so far as to say you’re alright even, but you’re on thin ice, Pulsifer.” Newt blushed again - on the Crowley scale that was probably a solid 7/10 rating at least. The demon swallowed a gulp of wine. “Still, I’ll hear you out for another round. We’ll see.”

“It’ll need more work, first. I’ve only just got a rough idea.”

Anathema shrugged, and leaned into him. “You have at least a month. Probably more, the way scheduling always works. You can take your time.” She smiled. “And, you know, maybe a rough outline is okay, since you never know what everyone’s going to do.”

“That’s my motto,” said Crowley. “Set up the big picture and after that just wing it. Er, in a manner of speaking, anyway.”

Newt considered it. “I was thinking … for authenticity, it might help if some of the characters actually spoke another language? Is there really like, a real-life^ equivalent of Infernal?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Could you -”

Aziraphale was already shaking his head ‘no’ when Crowley answered. “Not unless you fancy bleeding out of all your orifices and throwing up maggots, no, I can’t.” He brightened up. “I do speak Russian though, is that different enough? 98% less chance of cursing you to eternal damnation.”

Newt nodded. “That’s fine.” His eyes narrowed. “Why only 98%?” Aziraphale was studying Crowley too, a faint smile on his lips.

“Yes, dear, that sounds like you have … experience.”

Crowley looked offended. “Not me personally, no. Not my style. Ages ago, though, Hastur -”

“Ah, Hastur. That explains it.”

“Right, it’s actually kind of a funny story, mostly because Hastur looked like an idiot at the end …”

And so it went, past the time Anathema decided to finally make the spaghetti and found a pot of water miraculously on the stove and boiling, next to a saucepan of what smelled like an absolutely amazing Bolognese sauce, past the meal itself and the subsequent cleanup, and well into the night. The wine bottle did eventually get lighter - eventually - after Newt fell asleep with his head on her shoulder. Aziraphale finished it off, while Crowley sobered up - she still wasn’t used to that - and they stood. “Don’t get up.” Aziraphale waved a hand in her direction as he collected the notebooks, dice, and biscuit plate. “We can find our way to the front door, my dear, I promise.” He wobbled a little. Crowley sighed.

“I can, anyway. Come on, angel.” He slid his arm around Azirphale’s waist, half supporting him and half guiding him, and spared a wave. “Thanks again. Text when you want to do it again.”

“We will.” She blinked, suddenly sleepy, the soft cotton-candy of sweet dreams induced by good red wine already drifting in at the edges of her thinking+. “Hey, sorry, uh, would you mind getting the lights on your way out?”

There was a click of a switch and darkness, followed the distinct sound of Aziraphale stumbling over the mat in the front hall and Crowley catching him. Then the front door, opening, closing, locking (she’d never given them they key, but then again, why bother?). She listened, or tried to stay awake to listen anyway, for the grumble of the Bentley as it pulled out into the night, but she was already asleep against Newt, her fingers laced through his.

* Actual psychic readings - Madame Tracy wished she had been as good as Anathema. Never mind that the bulk of Anathema’s clients were people who wanted to speak with their pets, rather than their relatives.

** Which Crowley and Aziraphale were still skirting, although neither of them would admit it. At least they were finally admitting they were ‘more than best friends’. “Probably even super best friends,” Crowley had told her about a year ago, as he passed her a fatty spliffer.

*** “What if they take it too seriously? What if there’s actual flaming swords again? What if I have to kill Crowley’s character and he banishes me to The Pit?” to which she had responded, “He’s not on speaking terms with Hell anymore, Newt, I doubt he would do much more than curse you or burn Dick Turpin up with Hellfire.” It was a bit mean, but the wailing it had prompted was choice entertainment.

^ Anathema had to consider the gravity of that statement give all they’ve learned in the past 2 years, as well as what it said about her and Newt that neither of them questioned it.

+ The hangover would not be terrible, either, she knew, which made it even better. Not that the wine was so good that you couldn’t get hungover off of it, but, well, she’d been drinking with the angel for a while now. She had in inkling of how it would go.

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #anathema device #newton pulsifer #dungeons and dragons #i wish i didn't enjoy fanfiction so much #good omens fanfiction

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shsldepressedlesbian · 5 years ago

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Jesus Christ please tell me mORE about these characters I only know three things about them but I’m invested

hahhshahha im glad people wanna hear about them,, ok here we go, character info dump:

like i mentioned in a previous ask, the characters were created using sets of nine images, and thus they went through a certain degree of changes, though not all of them

if anyone wants to see me make the fic,, then i just might do it-

heres funfacts about the characters, cause as i noted before, i lovv them all very much:

Yuuki Mori, Ultimate Wedding Planner

Likes: bubblegum, streamers

Dislikes: wooly sweaters, dodgeball

D.O.B: October 12

Height: 5'1"

- the protag girl,,

- for the most part, a very friendly and hyperactive gurl

- always carries around bubblegum with her

- her interesting in wedding planning stems from her grandmothers encouragement, as well as having many relatives, and thus shes attended a lot of weddings in her life

- neat freak

- surprisingly athletic

- social!! but shes a little judgemental of people

- would never intentionally insult anyone outloud

- incredibly persistent

- also has a very sharp memory and eye due to her job as a wedding planner, which helps with investigating

- avoids conflict if she can

- not hard to convince

- trans and bi, like all dangan protags are suppose to be

- smells like bubblegum flavored cake and lavender

Emica Abiko, Ultimate Student Council

Likes: blank paper, lavender

Dislikes: deadlines in general, decaf

D.O.B: May 25

Height: 5'5"

- the mom friend

- tries to be as friendly as possible but shes this close to snapping

- is surviving on pure will and caffeine

- orderly

- has a strong sense of responsibility and leadership

- her dad is actually the principal of the school, which is the whole reason why shes student president in the first place. because of this, she doesnt really believe she deserves a spot in the school

- ambivert

- 'takahashi PLEASE put that down-'

- smells like vanilla coffee and stress

Arata Abe, Ultimate Historian

Likes: globes, sunshine

Dislikes: tiny dogs, flat earthers

D.O.B: June 14

Height: 5'7"

- a classy man

- very curious

- and nosey

- writes everything down in his trusty notebook, which helps with investigations

- doesnt just study japanese history. hes interested in the past of almost all countries

- very neutral on almost everything, doesnt have many opinions of his own

- but one thing he does have a strong opinion on is hating hetalia (who doesnt?)

- dresses like a victorian

- acts like he hasnt had a social interaction with a human being in years

- smells like old books and cats

Mitsuo Nakashima, Ultimate ???

Likes: dark rooms, wifi

Dislikes: confusing websites, superstitions

D.O.B: December 25

Height: 5’6”

- has not slept in a week but its fine

- very insistent on keeping secrets

- not even his classmates know who he or his talent is

- chooses not to tell anyone his talent (for some reason)

- does not believe in luck. at all

- for a tired guy who has no sense of left or right, hes pretty cocky

- probably has a tragic backstory

- spends most time locked in a dark room

- will fall asleep in a random hallway

- it might be the fatigue and coffee talking, but hes surprisingly intelligent

- smells like dirty laundry and ramen

Asuka Ando, Ultimate Student Council Treasurer

Likes: jewelry, mythology

Dislikes: delinquents, air horns

D.O.B: January 11

Height: 5’8”

- that one blonde chick in every slasher

- very cocky because of her position

- convincing and manipulative

- also good with management as you would expect from a treasurer

- was a math whiz in middle school

- despite acting in control, shes very reliant on emica telling her what to do

- hides behind bigger people

- collector of jewelry

- smells like chokingly sweet perfume and bleach

Manabu Ueda, Ultimate Astrogeologist

Likes: tea, stargazing

Dislikes: broken glass, slime

D.O.B: October 25

Height: 5’8”

- a polite boi, admirable

- more or less on the quiet side, tho he can and does step in to say stuff, and he does enjoy conversation

- his talent is something he grew from his own ambitions, but rather, it was more of a family line thing. he still does enjoy astrogeology though, which is why he chose to continue it even when he got a chance to study something different

- as you would expect from the ultimate astrogeologist, he contains many facts about space hes willing to share

- compliments others pretty often if we’re being real here, overall more of an optimistic realist

- however, even then, hes more of a ‘act first ask questions later’ type of guy as well

- a bit on the vain side?? very proud of his looks

- is very attracted to women who can beat him up-

- smells like expensive perfume and moondust

Seiichi Miyamoto, Ultimate Slam Poet

Likes: ink, protests

Dislikes: alcohol, peer pressure

D.O.B: August 26

Height: 5’5”

- best boy

- despite having the public image of a very loud and passionate young man, in person hes a lot more quiet and polite

- very good with voice shifting

- pulls at his tie when hes nervous; because of this, its always loose around his neck

- was the rep of his class

- slam poetry is a form of venting for him

- has strong opinions

- cares more about others health then his own

- not shy, just very nervous

- smells like nature and scented markers

Tamotsu Fujimoto, Ultimate Tomb Guide

Likes: sand, the heat

Dislikes: slippery ice, pens

D.O.B: November 19

Height: 6’4”

- the dad friend

- has known masa since they were kids(they met in a hospital), and thus they are very close friends

- mature but also laid back

- gives good hugs

- muscular

- wasnt actually born in japan, but grew up in it for the most part

- his parents were archaeologists, and they traveled alot. he was always particularly interested in the history of egypt, rather than becoming an archaeologist like his parents originally wanted him to be

- strong sense of justice

- usually believes in redemption

- acts as a form of transportation for the others when their tired, especially masa and satoru

- smells like tropical drinks and stuffy places

Kamiko Yamasaki, Ultimate Tapestry Seamstress

Likes: luck charms, quiet

Dislikes: being the main subject of attention, jumpscares

D.O.B: March 13

Height: 5’3”

- babey

- grew up in a superstitious household

- believes that she has terrible luck and uses everything bad that has ever happened to her as proof

- because of her supposed bad luck, she spent a lot of time locked in her house, sewing tapestries as a way of keeping busy, before being invited to sailing integrity

- has a good eye and knowledge of fabrics

- has a whole collection of sunhats. sadly, she only brought two different ones for the cruise trip(not like she was expecting more than a weeks stay hhshshs)

- has a large family

- has many bandaids on her fingers due to accidentally pricking herself on sewing needles multiple times

- interested in folklore

- very apologetic

- has a low sense of self esteem

- because of her ‘bad luck’, she blames a lot of bad stuff on herself, even if it doesnt even involve her

- sensitive

- grows quickly attached to others

- likes to stay close to anything that she believes would bring her ‘good luck’

- smells like sunflowers and dirt

Kenta Inoue, Ultimate Parkourer

Likes: sneakers, tetris

Dislikes: being told what to do, stuck up people

D.O.B: February 17

Height: 6’3”

- angrey boy

- incredibly short tempered

- no one remembers seeing him ever smile

- healthy parent relationships? whats that??

- will stomp curb you

- easy to get flustered up, though he wouldnt admit it

- will not stop until hes defied gravity

- defining feature is his allstar sneakers

- smells like varying cologne and sexual frustration

Chieko Endo, Ultimate Chemist

Likes: friendly gambling, working out

Dislikes: romance stories, people coming up from behind her

D.O.B: January 2

Height: 6’0”

- the intelligent one

- serious and calm, keeps a clear head

- a true neutral

- has mastered the art of poker faces

- apathetic

- has a strong dislike of romantic things

- sharp minded

- surprisingly agile and athletic

- can recite the periodic table from the top of her head

- is always looking above the tip of her glasses

- no one: chieko: *anime glasses gleam*

- chieko, to seiichi: ‘ah, so your the twink’

- so edge, such cool

- smells like roses and melted wax

Masa Shibata, Ultimate Dream Interpreter

Likes: fiction, horoscopes

Dislikes: spiky rocks, flashlights

D.O.B: December 31

Height: 5’11”

- mythic bab

- tries to act all mysterious and wise but sometimes accidently slips and reveals she really is just a normal teenager who spends way too much time on tumblr

- has known tamotsu since they were kids(they met in a hospital), and thus they are very close friends

- actually spent a lot of time in the hospital as a kid

- very blunt

- not good with human emotions at ALL

- not good at picturing stuff, will draw and whatever ends up on the page will -genuinely either impress or surprise her

- a little lazy if you will

- very interested in horoscopes

- holds grudges

- tamotsu translates her weird way of speaking a lot

- knows like fifty ways to get to sleep immediately

- instead of saying ‘good morning’, she asks ‘how was your dreams?’ to people

- keeps a dream journal, not for herself, but for everyone else

- smells like clean warm laundry and sheep

Fumiko Ogawa, Ultimate Lucky Student (or Blackjack Player)

Likes: the color red, praise

Dislikes: trivia facts, strip poker

D.O.B: July 3

Height: 5’9”

- has more of a gambler aura rather then a lucky student aura

- very proud of herself

- soaks up praise and compliments like a sponge

- a family girl, especially looks up to her older brother

- an attention seeker

- knows how to get what she wants

- doesnt really like the title of ultimate lucky student which is why she goes by ultimate blackjack player

- is actually not even a fan of talent schools??

- dresses like a 1940s stage dancer

- smells like raspberries and cash

Kohaku Ono, Ultimate Murder Mystery Novelist

Likes: horror movies, plot twists

Dislikes: overdone tropes, being looked up to

D.O.B: May 9

Height: 6'3"

- a polite bab

- very honest

- handy in investigating due to their knowledge and imagination

- has very low self esteem

- considers themself a borderline 'villan', despite doing their hardest to be nice to everyone

- warns everyone about themself, but characters who were in the same class as them have just gotten use to it

- very uncomfortable with praise and being called a 'role model'

- helps others to their best ability

- compares many situations to varying books, including their own

- unintentionally ominous

- writes using a typewriter rather then a computer or laptop

- smells like peppermint and typewriter ink

Aika Kouki, Ultimate Vintage Collector

Likes: buttons, dial up phones

Dislikes: being ignored, boredom

D.O.B: August 10

Height: 5'5"

- would and will add 'chan' to the end of everyones names

- grew up in a family that was very about keeping things 'old fashioned'

- resents the term 'boomer'

- talks like a 2000s teen

- very energetic and cheerful

- uses old fashioned slang often

- 'thats wack, brosiki'

- expresses interest in being other people

- very praising of others, often talking how 'jealous' she is of them

- overall very positive

- she and yuuki have known each other since grade school, even though they arent paticularly super close friends

- watched a lot of sailor moon as a kid

- modern tech impresses her more then it should

- smells like 1950 perfume and the outdoors

Satoru Takahashi, Ultimate Marine Biologist

Likes: sea otters, the water

Dislikes: his height, fish nets

D.O.B: December 5

Height: 4'8"

- its the tiny boi

- would unironically threaten your kneecaps

- is very sad about not seeing any marine animals during their cruise

- is insecure about his height but wont admit it

- often asks taller, stronger people to carry him on their shoulders(kenta refuses, but tamotsu is fine with it)

- very bold

- says whatever comes to his mind

- it started out as a joke, but he probably has a tentacle kink-

- adventurous young lad

- usually very friendly, but not hesitant to call out what he feels is bullshit

- calls kenta, mitsuo, and chieko 'edgelords'

- spaces out a lot

- smells like salt water and wet fur

Usagi Shimizu, Ultimate Runaway/Explorer

Likes: the forest, music

Dislikes: closed in spaces, car lights

D.O.B: September 1

Height: 5'4"

- very quiet

- has had many foster parents

- technically, shes listed as the ultimate explorer in the academy, but everyone refers to her talent as 'ultimate runaway' due to her reputation

- shy, but can be loud if she wants to

- surprisingly smart when asked questions

- usually calm, but it isnt hard to get her riled up

- everyone expects her to be some sort of delinquent due to her history of running away from her many homes, but really shes basically the opposite

- usually goes with whatever everyone agrees to

- takes many pictures of nature, and posts them to social media

- blushy

- smells like bushes and granola bars

#cruise to despair

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farklelucas · 6 years ago

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all about the lesbian sea pirate

ahsjdkflg okay im gonna do the first section above the cut and the rest under

send me an oc and some numbers pls!! | here are my ocs!

Section 1 - About:

1. Briefly Describe your OC: Appearance, personality, role in a story, etc..

okay so!! hana is half-japanese, half-german, she’s got short/spiky black hair and fucking Huge brown eyes. she’s the protagonist of a thus-unwritten pirate love story and i fucking love her. she’s superbly socially awkward (doesn’t get customs like politeness or like asking before doing things asdjkfl), she’s a Romantic romantic, she loves sword-fighting, she was raised by her father (alongside three older half-brothers, though she was chosen as the heir to his ship which hmm pissed two of them off), she’s very much butch/tomboy, she loves adventure and sailing so fucking much, uhhh yeah her.

2. Briefly describe their backstory/childhood

like i said, she was raised by her dad, who she idolizes, along with her three brothers on the sea; she never knew her mother, because her father told her that she died giving birth to hana (or did she….? hm. maybe hana’s dad is just shitty?). she was always super excited to play and go on adventures and fight, especially with her three older brothers (only one of whom actually like. liked her.), and by the time she was old enough to hold a sword, her dad taught her how to. eventually, her dad became ill, and named hana, who was only 16, his successor. her two eldest brothers planned a mutiny to overthrow her, killing the other brother who protested. hana fought them but they escaped with half her treasure, promising to come back and kill her, and she’s spent the past six years seeking them out to defeat them.

3. Describe their family life and friends.

i mean i pretty much nailed her family, but she’s very close to all the crew. i’ll give you a quick rundown: there’s caspian, her first mate/quartermaster (grew up on the ship with her, an orphan who was stolen in one of the raids, searching out his lost family but is also a big time goof), dover, her “advisor”/sailing master (wise, lazy, arrogant, bitchy, basically her pseudo-father because her father was usually off being captain), darya, her gunner (slutty bisexual aromantic queen, runs the artillery AND the under deck gambling ring, always drunk, loyal to a fault especially to hana), and zarya (we’ll get to her later ;)) and the other lower-ranking crew members.

4. What is the world they come from like?

hmmm very mystical and mysterious, very ��pirates are bad and suck and we dont like them even though they’re not usually bad” but. you know. hana is still an outlaw of the land. there are mermaids and sirens and cracken and curses so it’s better to assume that if its magical it exists.

5. Are they original or exist in a certain fandom?

original!!

6. Are they an introvert or extrovert?

extroverted babey

7. Greatest fear?

being unable to sail but also, later on, (SPOILERS) being arrogant and greedy and malicious like her father

8. What’s their sense of humor like?

honestly just fucking. stupid. she probably likes puns and like dirty jokes.

9. Favorite pieces of fiction or genres they enjoy?

i dont think she can read???? but her third eldest brother bourne would usually tell her princess stories and she liked those

10. Favorite music genres?

folk ig

11. Describe their vision of a perfect spouse, if applicable.

a tall, beautiful, kindhearted woman, who sees past the pirate savagery and sees her heart beneath; a woman who can rule the sea alongside her and knows how to handle her and keep her in check. (looks at zarya meaningfully)

12. Largest regret?

not being able to save bourne

13. Something your OC would say?

my quote for her in her bio is “what am i without adventure?” but i also imagine her saying to zarya, “you are more celestial than the stars, my love, and twice as beautiful to behold.”

14. Whats their morality like?

technically lawful good but could be a roulette wheel depending on the day

15. Would they live in a city, rural area, or suburb?

oof none but if she had to probably rural

16. Which actor would you like to portray your OC? (Or a voice actor)

sjskdldldl my face claim is jen ruggirello

17. Sexuality? Gender Identity?

lesbian baby!!!!!

18. What inspired you to make this character?

honestly?? probably a lack of rep in romance and adventure novels. i just love her!!!

Section 2 - If…

1. If they existed in another decade, what would they wear? (Asker can choose what decade) (Bonus points if you draw them!)

hmmm ill pick… current day tbh, and i imagine lots of overalls and baggy sweaters!

2. If they were in a RPG, what would be their class?

i have to imagine somewhere between paladin and a fighter, im not sure which.

3. If they received a large amount of money no strings attached, what would they use it for?

i honestly think she would just. go into the nearest village and buy all the local hungry children bread. like she wouldn’t horde it or spend it on herself. she has everything she needs.

4. If they competed on a competitive TV show, how would they approach to winning? (the “mean” one, the one who makes friends, the one who’s there for fun)

hm… i honestly dont even think she would think about it like that dkdkflfl. probably the charming one, the leader, the adorkable one.

5. If they could change one thing about their past, what would it be?

i think she would choose to keep in contact with her mother. not necessarily live with her, because then she wouldnt have her first love which is the sea, but just like. talk to her. know her better. go see her every few months. write her from different ports about their adventures.

6. If you met them, what would they do?

i would honestly probably be so fucking charmed by her. shes got that way about her, a leadership quality you can’t shake, even if shes really incredibly awkward too.

7. If your character exists in another series’ world, what would they be doing/look like?

i kind of imagine her in harry potter as like. this half blood gryffindor who’s So Gryffindor it hurts. on the quidditch team, always screaming about house pride, everyone loves her. and then she goes and falls in love with this muggle born slytherin and shakes the whole school dkdkkrklr

Section 3 - Other:

1. What other OCs would they get along with?

oh… i think it’s kind of cheap to say jack, because they’re both pirates, but honestly i think they’d get on like a house on fire. other than that… definitely michael minkus, who would make an epic first mate, and lucy stilinksi-hale, who she would probably wanna smash.

2. What’s their singing voice like?

bad. comically bad. she tries to sing to zarya sometimes and zarya locks her out of their room.

3. Take a personality test as the character. Post results.

okay so ive already taken a couple for her in the past (ex: gryffindor, entj, the motivator, etc.) so im gonna take a completely benign one off buzzfeed and post the results. so if she were a song off of thank you next she would be “bad idea” skskkdkd

4. What would be their fighting style in a fighting game like Mortal Kombat, Super Smash Brothers, or Street Fighter?

to outsmart her opponent, think two moves ahead of theirs just like in real life. jokes on her no one else is ever thinking skdkkfkfl

5. What are some mannerisms/quirks?

putting her feet up on tables, walking into rooms without invitation, holing up in her cabin for days working, smirking instead of smiling, smoking, docking in random cities for the thrill of adventure, wearing her blouses nearly completely unbuttoned, just taking things and enforcing sharing bc. she’s always shared everything with everyone naturally and she doesnt know to ask djdkfkfk

6. Describe their favorite meal.

honestly she’ll eat anything but just like. a Nice leg of mutton and a glass of beer. that’s it. that’s the dream.

7. What do they do when they’re bored?

her favorite activity is to randomly attack caspian and have impromptu sword fights with him, but she also loves stargazing and telling stories to the town children.

8. How do they express love/affection for someone?

honestly she’s very. nuzzley. soft. like a little kitten. also waxes poetic. at least romantically. platonically, shes usually like a dad friend sjdkkrlr. like im talking “attaboy” and punches on the arm. pep talks. dad voice. the whole nine yards.

9. Most embarrassing thing that could/has happened to them?

honestly, she’s not easily embarrassed ever. i think she’s kind of just like meh over most things. the most embarrassing thing that could happen would be losing the respect of her crew. she would hate that so much.

10. Make a portrait sketch of them!

#nicole #hana #oc stuff #love her!!!! so much!!!!!!!#loveallthatjazz #what kind of woman doesnt have an ask #long post #go all the way to the bottom of this post to see a qt uwu #katie writes #wow i went off

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