#melody flores

[niennandil-me-writes]

Fragments of a Cybernetic Mind: Chapter 8 - Plausible Deniability

Summary Half a year has passed since the events of Christmas of 2064. The world is slowly adjusting to sentient ROMs. But Turing is distracted from their task as ROM-kind’s leader and ambassador by another obligation they carry. They want to deliver Leon Dekker’s last words to his daughter. But first, they’ll have to find her, which doesn’t prove easy. They ask their journalist friend for help, who seems less than thrilled.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 (final) Epilogue

cn: dehumanization, discussions of suicide

Melody Flores expects us at her villa with the small couch table laden with delicate pastries, cakes decorated with little marzipan flowers, and tea with milk. The doors to the garden are closed, air conditioning running on high power for the sake of Pat the polar bear. Coming inside after traveling through the hot streets of Neo-SF, it truly does feel like stepping from summer into winter.

Melody was very excited when we asked if we could come over. She seems happy to see Turing again, who she has asked all sorts of questions, like one would a child relative. She seems to take the aunt role she assigned herself very seriously.

I sit in one of the comfortable cushioned chairs, a plate in my hands and the robotic cat sleeping on my lap. Pat is eyeing me suspiciously, and I wonder if I took the last piece of his favorite cake. I take a sip of tea and consider how I can broach the topic we came here for.

"But oh, where are my manners," Melody says as she turns from Turing to me. “I’ve been talking to my favorite nephew/niece for an hour and completely ignored my other guest.”

“It’s alright,” I say politely. “You two have a lot of catching up to do.”

“But let me ask you, how is your writing coming along?”

I really wish people would find any other thing to ask me about. “It’s coming along fine.” Which, for once, isn’t a lie. Last week, I started on that chapter I’ve been putting off for ages, and for the first time in a month, I actually made progress. 

“I was wondering if you would let me read through it before it gets published,” Melody says while playing with a lock of white hair. “Just to make sure I’m getting a nice treatment by your text, after the help I provided.” She winks at me. The words are meant as a joke, but something about the way she says it catches me off guard.

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Turing grins. “After all, they’ll let me proofread the entire thing as well. Not that I know much about writing styles and narratives. My gifts are more in the visual arts than the written word.”

“And what gifts they are,” Melody chimes. “I do adore the painting you sent me for my birthday. I had Pat hang it up above my bed.”

Pat growls lazily.

“There is something we wanted to ask of you, Ms Flores,” I interject.

“Please, darling, call me Melody.”

“Alright, Melody. We wanted to ask you something regarding the combat android who worked for Dr Fairlight,” I say.

“Ask away, darling, though I don’t know if I will be of any help,” Melody says. “I do owe you my thanks for disposing of it.”

I notice the discomfort on Turing’s face screen and decide to get right to the point. “We are trying to find his family. His family before the brain transplant, that is. And since it was your company that conducted that transplant, we assume you have access to that information?”

Melody thinks for a moment. “I fear that won’t be possible.”

I falter. “But... his family signed a contract with your company to give consent to the procedure. Their contact info must be saved somewhere in your files, right?”

“Sadly, all that data got deleted when our servers malfunctioned some years after the international ban on BACs,” Melody explains. “There might still be a way to retrieve that information, but it would take weeks, if not months, to find it, not to speak of the work I would have to put into that. It would cost a small fortune.” She thinks again. “But how about we make a little deal. One that will be little effort on your part. I just want to look through your manuscript and read that flowery description of the help I was to the uncovering of the Big Blue project.”

“Wait a second...”

“It seems only fair,” Turing says. “After all, Aunt Melody did get us in contact with Vincent Mensa. And without him, we wouldn’t have been able to put the pieces of the puzzle together.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not giving up my journalistic integrity for you.” My whole body is tensing up. The cat wakes up and jumps off my lap. 

“Not even if I could find out the name and address of Wilson Dekker’s family?” she asks. 

A cold stemming from more than the air-conditioning runs through me. I look over at Turing. “I’ll consider your offer.”

“And since we are already discussing this,” Melody continues. “If you are planning to get in contact with the deceased android’s family, it seems like a good idea if you left out the part about his involvement, right? Spare them that connection to this whole ordeal.”

I stare at her. She just keeps twirling her hair, smiling, as if we both didn’t know what she’s asking. 

“Your connection, you mean, Ms Flores?”

“Please,” she laughs. “My company hasn’t been producing BACs for quite some time now.” She makes a throw-away gesture with her hand. “It was under the leadership of my mother that they were created, and as soon as I took over – “

“The use of BACs in the military was banned within the year,” I interrupt her. “You cannot take credit for stopping their production. You were already on the board when they were mass-produced.”

Melody Flores fixes me with a cold stare. “I always worked on demilitarizing Flower Cybernetics and turning our attention to medical applications of the tech instead. If I could, I would have done it sooner, but I did have to wait for my mother to move out of the picture. She ruled the company with an iron fist.”

“That is true,” Turing chimes in. “Aunt Melody is very well known in tech circles for the changes she made to the company as soon as she acquired it. I feel you are being a bit unfair here.”

I look down, embarrassed, but still agitated. “It doesn’t change the fact that your company made its profits from military tech for years, Ms Flores, and on combat androids in particular. You might not have personally done that, but your money - the money that paid for this house - came from the exploitation of economically disenfranchised people who couldn’t afford healthcare or student loans.”

A smile cracks the ice of Melody Flores’ face. “Is that something you assume or did you do your research?”

“I did.” I spent a lot of time on the meshnet these past days, looking up articles on this very topic. “There is a lot of fear on the mesh of combat androids, Ms Flores. Is that why you don’t want me to add my account? Is that why you had your company’s data destroyed? So any crimes connected to brain-controlled combat androids couldn’t definitively be traced to Flower Cybernetics?”

“Even if those accounts were true, I can hardly be held responsible for that.”

“But people will,” I say. “It’s still your company, and with the shares comes the responsibility.”

“Be that as it may, most references to rogue BACs committing crimes of any kind are nothing but rumors and exaggerations,” Flores continues. “As a journalist, you should know how to check your sources.”

“During my research I found countless articles from trustworthy sources on those ‘rogue BACs’ as you call them.” My hands are trembling, like they did last night when I read up on this. “Just for one example, right after the war, there was an android returning home and proceeding to kill his own husband with an axe – “

“Isolated exceptions blown out of proportion by the scandal-hungry media,” Flores responds.

“Was Leon Dekker an exception?” I ask.

“Leon Dekker was paid by Yannick Fairlight to murder anyone who stood in the way of his schemes,” she says. “Which is what you should be focusing on. It was him, not me, who ordered that monster to kill you. I feel you are forgetting that.”

“He didn’t kill for money, and we both know that.” I’ve risen from my seat, standing in front of Melody Flores. Behind me, Pat the ice bear grumbles, but I ignore him. “You thanked us for killing that monster your company created, Ms Flores. Did you know that he did as well? That he screamed out in joy when he was finally allowed to die?”

My hands are shaking, blood running cold. I stare at her. Something in her face clears up, she relaxes back in her chair. I want to throw something at her.

“I understand now where that anger comes from,” she says. “Though I still don’t think I deserve to have it taken out on me. You’re not angry at me for letting the killing machines I had no hand in creating run wild, are you? You are angry because you empathize with them. With him.”

I stare at her, and I realize she is right. I look over at Turing like I’m asking for help, but they have turned away, obviously uncomfortable with the whole situation, like a child watching family members argue. 

Before I can think of anything to say, she continues: “Well, you can’t have it both ways: If you see them as humans worthy of empathy, then they must also be responsible for their own decisions.”

I force out a dry laugh. “I’d like to see you make good decisions if your life had been made a cybernetic hell.” I sigh and turn to Turing.  “We’re leaving.”

“But what about – “ They seem close to tears, as much as a ROM can be, anyway.

I cut Turing off, turning to her again: “I’m not writing a propaganda piece for your company, Ms Flores. And I’m not signing that NDA you no doubt had your lawyers prepare the moment we asked to come over for tea.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she chuckles. “I had that thing written ages ago. I was about to contact you myself when you asked for this appointment. I thought if you were suddenly so eager to come by, I might have something that interests you enough to be a bargaining chip. I was wrong, and I accept that. Though my offer still stands.”

“We’ll find the information ourselves, thanks,” I say, taking Turing by the hand and leading them to the door. 

“Good luck on that.” She chuckles again. 

I remember Lexi’s words about Dekker’s records being heavily redacted. Now I know that wasn’t just Fairlight, or the military. We are going to need that luck.

[locitapurplepink]

Disney Princess Poll Results So Far 6

I have so much fun making disney princess polls with you guys. Here's the list of winner from each poll posts that I've made

31. Favorite swan theme dress ( Sofia vs Amber)

Amber's dress

32. Favorite Sofia's mermaid outfit ( Purple vs Pink)

Sofia's purple mermaid outfit

33. Favorite Disney underwater friend (Oona vs Marisa)

Marisa

34. Favorite movie ( Enchanted vs Disenchanted )

Enchanted

35. Favorite disney character (Melody vs Morgan)

Melody

36. Favorite disney princess solo song (Oona vs Isabel)

Isabel-I am grown up enough

Note : there are more ideas to come so get ready, guys...

[dearcopine]

going to inhale this song

[joyfulllittlething]

How would they react to you being a soft singer? [Like coraline songs] Strawhats

Not a request just a thought I had enjoy♤♡◇♧

Luffy

He'd be excited when Brook adds to your soft voice with a light voilin in the background

He'd absolutely ask you to sing lullabies

I feel like when your singing is the only times he'd be really quiet

Zoro

He'd like listening to your voice Lull him to his daily naps

Doesn't understand what you say half the time just knows it sounds nice

He doesn't like it when somthing Interrupts you

Sanji

This man loves listening to you while he cooks lightly swaying as he chops

Would make sure you always had a drink on stand by for your throat [Like the gentleman he is]

If he isn't cooking he like to sit at the bar and just look at you while you sing

Nami

She adores it she could listen to your voice all day

She likes sitting with you while you sing

She'll rest her head on your lap while you sing your enchanting melody

Robin

She'll listen with a smile while reading

She'd compliment you 110%

Gives the best kisses and forehead kisses after you finish a song

Brook

He'd 100% compose songs for you to sing so he can play in the background

Geeks out with you about music

Helps you train your voice if you so want

Franky

In tears everytime you grace him with you voice

Makes you special microphones that carry your voice further

Says everyone should be able to bless their ears with your suuuperrr voice.

Chopper

Does a silly little dance when you sing

Makes you some throat soothing drops for when your throat is hurting or so you can sing longer

Is your number one fan and will 100% support you when you sing

Jinbe

Would sway with you when you sing while smiling contently

Would never outright ask you too but would love when you sang him to sleep

Loves seeing you smile doing what you love

Ussop

Would brag that he's dating a siren of the sea with how beautiful you sing

He would definitely stumble trying to run and sit in front of you when you sing

He likes working on his projects while you sing to him

■

□

■

Make Requests! I hope you liked this sorry if it's a bit short

[mafleur]

𝒐𝒖𝒓 ͏𝖺𝗋𝗍 ͏ ͏𝗀𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋𝗒.

𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗂𝖼.⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁.⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗋𝖾.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ( 미술 박람회 )

𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝒊𝒗. ♥︎ the piano melody echoes in my heart, while the rain falls outside, creating a melancholy atmosphere.

마음,⠀⠀𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡.⠀⠀삶의 의미를 찾아 여러 나라를 항해하다 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 정원처럼 생명과 사랑이 가득한 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 빨간색

𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒄𝒕 is to withdraw one's feelings of attachment from a person, idea, or object, as in anticipation of a future loss.

súton ( 𝒏. ) twilight ／ the approach of 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 or the end of something.

✿ 汆 flores desabrocham em meus ossos, o musgo me abraça de cima a baixo, o sol e a lua me banham com luz dia e noite.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚 죽음. 🗝️ ♥︎ 당신이 존재했던 모든 아름다움이라는 비밀은 안전합니다. 나는 그것을 내 안에 가지고 다닐 것입니다 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐜̧𝐚̃𝐨.

tenebris ( a morte ) 𐫞𐫗ᰭ ／ ㅤem sua majestade sombria, mostra-nos que a beleza transcende a agonia.

𝓹. 시 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥 린 tudo que emerge de seus lábios é doce, mas até os venenos mais insanos podem ter o sabor envolvente do amor.

[sorrbet]

Thinking about modern band Au Laios. I feel that Laios compared to the others like Falin and Marcille who I think would be in their own possibly with other members like Izutsumi. He’d be something like idk more on the lines of Liana Flores or Mitski in a sense having more lullaby type of singing preferring not to join Flain and Marcille as they’re the types to deal with large groups instead staying to his own playing the synth making music on his own in his dump of an apartment he and Falin live in while she goes to college or something.

Chilchuck would probably be in a similar vain as a half foot being more sensitive to loud noise so he probably while working with Laios one day hears him singing a soft melody and joins him as he at one point also did music in an underground group playing the acoustic guitar and electric guitar.

[wilsons-three-legged-siamese]

another fic of mine woah 😩

fandom; house md

can be interpreted as non slah or slah between house/wilson

summery; wilson is dying, being taken care of a person. but wilson cant remember who they are.

word count; 1.3k

tw; major character death.

a/n: i dont have ao3 so it shall not be put up on there. if it is notify me, ill say if i have given permission as if someone asks i probably will say yes.

this was based on the song "rises the moon - liana flores"

rises the moon.

days seem sometimes as if they'll never end.

its august. the 20th if we're being exact. coming to the close of summer and the opening of autumn, usually being my favourite time of the year. cozy sweaters, warm socks and scarfs, the perfect weather. usually sunny with a nice breeze. well, i wish i could enjoy it. instead, im stuck in bed, my breathing laboured and my body shaking. though, this year, summer was my favourite.. june. i really enjoyed that, when i could walk without aid and just, enjoy life. ever since mid july, ive been deteriorating quicker than an abandoned building, which has been agonising. i want the pain to go away, please. it hurts..

but i dont want to die.

from the bedroom, i hear the singing voice again, a soothing melody. their voice smooth and deep. i sigh softly, it being a sort of comfort for me, knowing at least someone was there and i wasn't alone. their humming and muffled singing drowns out the continuous beeping of the heart monitor besides me. they had stolen the machine after faking being ill in a walk-in clinic, once the doctor had done to complain to the dean about them being an ass, they smuggled the monitor and brought it back. the good ol' days hm? that day was probably the most ive complained and laughed for a long, long time.

a mass than sat on the bed, the weight shifting slightly on the mattress. i ket out an involuntary groan, my back being slightly unsupported.

"hey, i made some broth for you.. its 1, and i think you should at least try and drink it for me," they murmured.

the bowl, of what i assume was broth, was set down on the small table besides me. soon enough, long, lanky arms were wrapped around my middle, gently pulling me up to sit up. wait.. what time did they say again.. 1 was it? only.. 1?

the sun digs its heels to taunt you.

the rim of the bowl was scarcely pressed to my lips, the bowl being slightly hot. i signal them to tip it a little so i can take a sip. and so i do. and holy shit..

thats fucking amazing.

the warm, soupy liquid runs down my throat, a sort of feeling i dont get that often, especially being warm. the way he flavours mix together is phenomenal, the spices and the subtle beef. its flavourful, but not enough to freak my taste buds out, which happens all too often now.

"is it okay?" they ask, their voice soft and gentle.

i hum with a slight nod.

but after sunlit days, one thing stays the same:

rises the moon.

days fade into a watercolour blur.

its been.. maybe a week? my sense of time is so off, it could be a week for a few days.. lets say its been a few days - to make me feel better. im now slipping in and out of consciousness, which is concerning in itself. i dont know how long im out for at a time. theyve been becoming more and more worried about me. i mean, there was always an elephant in the room, hell even when i was first diagnosed. but, the elephant has been growing larger and larger than before, making it hard to ignore. we have to adress it sometime.

but its hard to breathe.

then im awoken by a coughing fit.

it shakes my whole body, racking everything as i shut my eyes tight, desperately trying not to wake them up behind me. but, of course they woke up, they always do. i tried to savour the two, lanky but muscular arms around my abdomen, as they were warm and comforting, but soon, all i could feel was pain.

"are you okay?" they ask, their voice still a bit groggy from sleep.

i hum, my voice still hoarse even though i barely made a sound.

this just reminds me of them, i swear something to do with an infarction to the leg. but i cant quite remember.. or remember them.. their face is slightly recognisable, but not by a lot at all. my memorys been wracked up.. pisses me off, i wanna know whos caring for me. i wanna thank them, using their name, recogising their face.

memories swim up and haunt me.

"hmm.. mm!" i hum, trying to catch their attention.

they run over, quickly turning me on my side and holding the bucket to my mouth. i start to cry as i retch, vomiting harshly into the bucket, they rub my back gently, mumbling words of encouragement and reassurance softly to me. finally, i stop. glancing down at the small puddle of bile and saliva, i frown slightly.

look into the lake, shimmering like smoke.

i look into their eyes. my, coffee like brown into their, ocean like blue. scared and helpless meet concerned and determined. they run their skinny, pianist fingers through my frail hair. they always wanted to care for me, secretly.

rises the moon.

"close your weary eyes, i promise you that soon the autumn comes to darken faded summer skys." they pause for a moment. "breathe, breathe, breathe."

almost immediately after hearing that, i start to cry, just a full on breakdown. they quickly embrace me, wrapping their arms around my middle. i dig my face into theit shoulder, tears still rolling down my pastey cheeks. its nice.

oh to be hugged like this again.

days pull you down just like a sinking ship.

its been a day? maybe.. i dunno anymore. it might've been 2, 3, 4 a week, who knows - not me thats fot sure. it might be september now, i last remember it was august, that seems like yesterday. them, my carer, whatever, i dont know their name anymore. i dont know who they are, i cant see.. its all blurry and fuzzy, so is my memory. i cant remember the last time i ate..

floating is getting harder.

"im sorry.." they mumble, their voice snapping me out of my thoughts - though it was barely above a whisper.

their thin fingers run through my hair again, gently letting it fall between the gaps and repeating.

oh, i forgot to mention, i also cant speak.. or breathe for that matter. i think the tumor - or tumors more like - have begun to press against my trachea and esophagus, making his hard to both eat and breathe. wheezing has become a normal, daily routine.

considering my condition,

i have tonight,

and thats it.

because of my fate, i keep repeating a phrase i once said to a child as they went through chemo. they had no parents, i was the best thing they had..

but thread the water, child, and know that meanwhile: rises the moon.

days pull you up just like a daffodil.

its the next day, i think. its really hard to just think. the weezings gotten worse, i feel awful, like horrendous. its awful... maybe i am ready to die. i can just subtly feek them holding my fraile hand, stroking their thumb over my knuckles. only barely. im scared, terrified more like. i dont even know who they are, but im scared for them.. they'll miss me definitely. what will they do when im gone? i dont know..

uprooted from its garden.

once again, i feel consciousness slip from underneath me. which is normal, very. but this wasn't normal.. i could still hear.

"they'll tell you what you owe," they mumble. "but know even so, rises the moon."

i try to smile, a small twinge of my lips. but nothing happens. i try to tell them i love them, but again, nothing happens.

"you'll be visited by sleep. i promise that the autumn comes to steal away each dream you keep." they choke back a sob.

"breathe, breathe, breathe." houses voice sobs.

they're house.

but its too late to tell him i love him.

[talonabraxas]

Xochipilli : The Flower Prince Talon Abraxas

Xochipilli, alternatively recognized as the ‘Flower Prince,’ holds a prominent role in Aztec mythology. As the deity presiding over art, games, dance, flowers, and song, he represents a departure from the stern and often bloodthirsty nature of his divine counterparts. His name derives from the Nahuatl words xōchitl (“flower”) and pilli (interpreted as either “prince” or “child”), thus encapsulating the essence of “flower prince.” In contrast to his more severe peers, Xochipilli’s dominion extends to realms characterized by laughter, music, and the intoxicating pleasures inherent in the tapestry of life.

Physical Traits

Xochipilli is frequently portrayed as a youthful figure adorned in distinctive regalia. His headdress, crafted from feathers, graces his head, and he is often depicted donning a mask while enveloped in flowers sourced from psychotropic plants and hallucinogenic mushrooms. Notably, he wears a talisman called an oyohualli, a teardrop-shaped pendant fashioned from mother-of-pearl. The vibrant imagery continues with his face painted in a radiant yellow hue, symbolizing the golden sun and the vibrancy of life.

Around his neck, Xochipilli wears a necklace fashioned from shells and jade, symbolically representing both the earthly bounty and the abundance of aquatic realms. Atop his head, a feathered headdress takes center stage, adorned with bells that resonate with each movement, echoing the joyful melodies he is associated with. However, perhaps his most distinctive feature is a wide, mischievous grin, reflecting his playful nature and deep affinity for life’s pleasures.

The iconography surrounding Xochipilli accentuates his strong association with pleasure and euphoria. Depictions of the deity often showcase him with a joyous countenance, engaging in activities such as playing musical instruments or participating in dance. This visual narrative underscores his pivotal role as a patron of the arts and revelry, symbolizing the exuberant celebration of life’s myriad joys.

Other names

Beyond being known as the ‘Flower Prince,’ Xochipilli bears alternate titles that unveil distinct dimensions of his character. Referred to as Macuilxōchitl, signifying “Five-flower,” and Chicōmexōchitl, translating to “Seven-flower,” these names encapsulate varied aspects of his essence. Additionally, he is recognized as the ‘Príncipe de las Flores de Maíz,’ further enriching the tapestry of his identity.

Intriguingly, Chicomexōchitl, or “Seven-Flower,” spotlights Xochipilli’s patronage of artistic endeavors, specifically in the realms of writing and painting. Meanwhile, Macuilxōchitl, or “Five-Flower,” draws attention to his playful nature and association with games and festivities. Occasionally referred to as Tlalteotl, meaning “Earth Lord,” Xochipilli’s connection to the fertility and abundance of the natural world is underscored.

Each epithet harbors a unique revelation about the multifaceted God of Flowers, inviting exploration into the depth and richness of his domain. In certain instances, Xochipilli assumes a more abstract identity as “Axoqcoyotl,” denoting “The Lord of the Game,” signifying his sway over artistic and recreational pursuits. These alternative names contribute layers to his character, offering a nuanced portrayal that mirrors the diverse facets of his divine persona.

Powers and Abilities

Xochipilli’s influence extends far beyond the realm of brute force, manifesting in the enchantment he effortlessly weaves through his touch. Possessing the remarkable ability to kindle creativity, spark passion, and infuse hearts with unbridled joy, he governs the intoxicating realms of art, music, and dance. In his presence, mortals find themselves transported to dimensions of ecstatic bliss, captivated by the alluring magic he bestows.

Central to Xochipilli’s dominion is his unique connection to flowers and hallucinogenic plants, granting him the power to unlock concealed pathways of perception. In doing so, he reveals profound truths and inner landscapes, broadening the horizons of those touched by his divine influence. With a mischievous playfulness, Xochipilli possesses the ability to conjure laughter and dissolve tensions through lighthearted pranks. His true strength lies in the profound reminder he offers – that beauty and joy are inherent in every fleeting moment of life.

Revered as one of the Ahuiateteo, gods of excess, Xochipilli’s domain transcends mere mortal desires. He is intimately tied to dance, painting, creativity, and festivities, embodying the essence of indulgence. Xochipilli’s profound connection to the souls, fertility, and the abundance of nature symbolizes the intricate interdependence of life’s myriad facets. As a bestower of fertility, he oversees the procreation of new life and the flourishing growth of abundance, weaving a tapestry of vitality and interconnectedness within the fabric of existence.

[oddcryptidwrites]

International Alliance of Superhumans [A WIP by Athens]

Brigid crumpled the black mask in their hand, letting it catch fire as their anger flared. They knew it wouldn’t do anything. It was built to withstand their anger. They were built to withstand their own anger. “They lied to you like they lied to me.” Martin stepped forward cautiously, hands out, “…but we can make sure that they never lie to anyone again.”

General Information

Genre: Superhero fic, action POV: Third limited Setting: NYC, 2044, alternate earth where superhumans exist Content warnings: violence, injury, gore, death, family abuse (physical, verbal), alcohol (use)

synopsis, characters, and more below the cut!

Synopsis

Superhumans have existed as long as we have, normal people who suddenly develop seemingly magical powers overnight. That’s why the International Alliance of Superhumans was founded in 1945, to help control these superhumans to better humanity. Now, the Alliance’s ideals and control is falling apart, as the Underground and the Union threaten its weakening rule over the superhuman community.

Civilians

Brigid Roberts (they/them) :: 17 :: child of Nikki Roberts :: distrusting of others :: punch first ask questions later :: don’t quit til you drop dead-type attitude :: tends to stick their nose where it doesn’t belong :: would be in juvie if their grandfather didn’t pay off the administration of Westmoreland :: always wearing their black fingerless gloves

Martin García-Flores (he/him) :: 22 :: older brother of Elías :: born in the Dominican Republic but came to NYC when he was 13 :: workaholic who never stops running :: will take a beating and get back up every single time :: has 4 jobs on top of managing the Underground :: hasn’t cut his hair in 2 years please get him a haircut :: main job is at Hotshot, a cafe in Washington Heights

Elías García-Flores (he/him) :: 15 :: little brother of Martin :: actually very competent and smart (and a little conniving) :: Martin babies him too much :: suffers from multiple sclerosis :: knows his brother's identity but Martin doesn't know that :: massive crush on Madds, won’t tell her :: gamemaster for his d&d group

Melody "Mel" Ghazali (she/her) :: 17 :: childhood best friend of Brigid :: would be the valedictorian of her class if Brigid wasn’t tied GPA-wise :: very sweet :: plays piano and sings in choir :: all of Brigid's self restraint :: wants to help people :: doesn’t know Brigid=Fireball

Maddison "Madds" de Paola (she/her) :: 14 :: the definition of that weird girl in your class :: obsessed with physics and space :: forget not being the sharpest tool in the shed, Madds isn't even in the shed :: could kick everyone's asses academically but has no motivation to do her actual schoolwork

Owen Roberts (he/him) :: 70 :: father of Nikki :: wants the best for his family :: especially after the death of his son :: treats Brigid as another child of his :: smooth talker and good poker face

Andre Vicario (he/him) :: 26 :: RN at local children’s hospital :: resting bitch face :: seems to always know the answer to everything, which freaks everyone else out :: shows up at just the right time :: every single time :: frequent customer at Hotshot

Carolana "Ana" Vicario (she/her) :: 22 :: Andre's little sister :: very very sweet but there is not a single fucking braincell in her head :: works at a local metaphysical shop

Joaquinn "Quinn" Cheres (he/they) :: 22 :: deceased at 21 :: bff turned lover of Martin :: grew up in the Dominican Republic as well before coming to NYC at 13 :: has an uncontrollable attitude problem :: lashes out often at others but otherwise sweet

Nikolas "Nikki" Roberts (she/her) :: 39 :: deceased at 34 :: biological parent of Brigid :: absent parent :: Brigid loved her though :: literally just came out prior to dying, so several people refer to her with he/him pronouns

Valentia "Val" de Paola (they/she) :: 40 :: deceased at 37 :: brilliant Quantum Physicist :: mother of Madds :: obsessed with the concept of multiple dimensions :: never actually got her PhD because everyone though she was batshit crazy

Griffin Douglas (he/him) :: 61 :: close professional friend of Val's :: got her the job researching with Realitypoint

Superheroes

Meremimic (he/him) :: alter-ego to Owen Roberts :: Head Administrator of the International Alliance of Superhumans :: shapeshifter :: wire glasses mantle

Fireball (he/him) :: alter-ego to Brigid Roberts :: the new "Goldenson" of the Alliance :: pyrokinesis :: studying under Meremimic :: partner to Nightpsyche :: mortal enemy to Hueso Blanco :: killer of Àrbol Terror and Quantum Rift :: black eye-mask mantle :: beloved by the public

Nightpsyche (she/her) :: telekinesis :: studying under Meremimic :: partner to Fireball :: plague mask mantle :: goody-two shoes who follows all of IASH's rules :: doesn't play nice with the public

Goldenson (he/him) :: alter-ego to Nikki Roberts :: deceased :: pyrokinesis :: son of Meremimic/Owen :: former partner to Quantum Rift :: murdered by Quantum Rift* :: loved by the city :: everyone mourned his death

RedShield (he/him) :: vitakinesis (healing) :: works in Meremimic's office :: no public presence :: gives Fireball suspiciously relevant advice to his situation

Supervillains

Hueso Blanco (he/him) :: formerly HuesoBlanco :: alter-ego to Martin García-Flores :: radiokinesis (light/radiation manipulation) :: former partner to Àrbol Terror/Àrboltierra :: partner to Morpheus Nox :: mortal enemy to Fireball :: silver skull ring mantle :: current leader of the Underground :: previously member of the Santo Domingo branch of IASH before being relocated to NYC

Morpheus Nox (he/him) :: mysterious new supervillain on the block :: space-time manipulation :: seems to want to continue what Quantum Rift started :: has Quantum Rift's powers and mantle :: partner to Hueso Blanco :: black cloak mantle

Quantum Rift (he/him) :: formerly Quantumshift :: deceased :: space-time manipulation :: former leader of the Underground :: tried to open a black hole by ripping his cloak :: shoved through his own rift by Fireball :: black cloak mantle

Àrbol Terror (he/him) :: formerly Àrboltierra :: deceased :: former partner to Hueso Blanco :: previously part of the Santo Domingo branch before being relocated to NYC :: close ally to Quantum Rift :: brutally murdered by Fireball

Blood Ruby (she/her) :: deceased :: geokinesis :: founder of the Union :: went missing six months ago and presumed dead :: ruby earrings mantle

Squall Line (he/him) :: formerly Squalline:: deceased :: ex-Alliance supervillain :: atmokinesis :: sportscoat mantle (think like an on-air weatherman's jacket)

Worldbuilding

Superhumans

As the introduction says, superhumans have existed as long as humanity has existed. Most major religions have some sort of explanation for why superhumans exist, but in reality, no one knows. The population of superhumans seems to be correlated to the human population, but the true number of superhumans is unknown. It is also unknown how the superhumans are selected, as most develop powers between the ages of 7 and 13. There are several records of powers and mantles being passed down through a family, such as Goldenson and Fireball.

Powers and Mantles

Powers are what make superhumans Superhumans. They vary from superhuman to superhuman, and many common ones are duplicated (like pyrokinesis). The options for powers are essentially endless, with the only primary rule being that the powers don't actually modify the appearance of the superhuman (like wings, horns, skin, gills, or anything like that). Mantles are a little different. Each superhuman, hero or villain, has a wearable mantle, which is tied to their identity as a superhuman. When activated, the mantle provides a costume for the superhuman, which can be changed via simply deactivating and reactivating the mantle with the intention of their costume being changed. Mantles are passed down from superhuman to superhuman; when superhumans die, their mantles (and associated powers) are granted to a new superhuman. For example, Fireball inherited the mantle and powers of Goldenson after his death. Occasionally, new mantles and powers will emerge with the growing human population. The true nature of mantles are not well understood, although in the modern day, microchips and other technology have been added by IASH and the Underground.

Superhuman Names

While superhuman names used to be chosen by the superhumans themselves, nowadays the process is controlled by IASH. Names are given to Alliance-sanctioned superheroes by the Naming Committee, which also changes the superhuman names of supervillains who are expelled from IASH. Modern superhuman names generally are composed of two words; those without a space are IASH superheroes, and those with a space are supervillains.

The International Alliance of Superhumans

After the use of superhumans in combat during World War II, and the human rights violations which occurred via said use, the International Alliance of Superhumans was formed around the same time as the United Nations. While IASH is not part of the UN, they have been granted police-like functions in most states which are members to the UN. IASH, in function, is a superhuman police government which spans international borders, and controls the superhuman populace. All superhumans are subject to register with IASH or be labelled as a supervillain. Supervillains are constantly under surveillance and attack by Alliance-sanctioned superheroes, although sometimes the lesser-supervillains are kept around for PR purposes and to make IASH look better. IASH has branches in most party states in the world, most often in populated cities. Some states, like China, the US, and Russia have multiple branches within their borders, while smaller countries like the Dominican Republic or city-states like Singapore only have one. IASH's current Chief Administrator (in the NYC Headquarters) is the formerly Welsh-based superhero, Meremimic.

The Underground

The Underground, founded in 2020, was the first true alternative movement to IASH. It was founded by ex-Alliance supervillains who felt wronged by their expulsion from IASH. Generally, the Underground is considered to be a more violent movement, although they spread their fair share of propaganda. Quantum Shift was the de facto leader at one point, before the organization was taken over by his student, Hueso Blanco.

The Union

The Union is a new movement, founded only in 2048 by the late-Blood Ruby. Unlike the Underground, the Union was founded by a mix of superheroes and supervillains looking to reform IASH.

Wesmoreland Private Academy

Wesmoreland is a prestigious boarding school, housing 6-12th graders. Mel, Brigid, and Madds attend currently. Val and Nikki are alumni. Owen Roberts is a major donor to the school and the single reason why Brigid has not been expelled for their violent behavior.

Status

Plotting. Previous drafts have been scrapped for good.

Further Commentary

IASH is another one of my older WIPs, and was tied closely to an old (toxic) friend of mine. It has taken me a while to rework it to something I enjoy, but this is approaching that final product. Unlike NYTF, IASH focuses on bringing down the "government", rather than trying to fix it. (They do fix it in the end). I will be adding more to the characters soon! I just wanted to get this out for Archie to see :)

Tag List (let me know if you want to be +/-)

(I pulled most of these either from the old IASH tag list or from the call post) @thetruearchmagos @fraugustends @wordswrittenbynight @missaddledmiss @from-the-depths-into-your-soul @rayesworld @susurrus-mxfluffy @serotoninshift @starlit-skys @guessillcallitart @circa-specturgia @whimsyqueen @elijahrichardwrites @imslowlydisintegrating @eli-writes-sometimes @hannahholowach46

[sunskate]

Lauriault/Le Gac: looked like the veterans and did what they needed to do. though they had 2 extended lift deductions

whoa Neset/Markelov were strong in the free - it’s AG & Claire Wyndham - My Love Will Never Die and Tommee Profitt feat Fleurie - Gloria Regalie. spooky with fervor and a flair for the dramatic. they feel so single-minded and focused

the Browns - The Who - Baba O’Riley - they had more energy this morning, but in practice nobody ever skates the entire program- and it’s only July. this program has the potential to be SO exciting - it was really exciting this morning. still really good tonight. when they’re on, you do not notice that they’re small - the skating is powerful and deep and big, and so are they

Pate/Bye: Chaplin - they are polished in many ways. idk why this choice now - it feels cutesy and has the vocabulary you’d expect of a Chaplin program. it doesn’t feel like it gives them anything new to say, doesn’t stretch them, nor does it have pathos like Chaplin can have

Fabbri/Ayer: Jurnee Smolett-Bell - It’s a Man’s Man’s World, Brenna Whittaker - You Don’t Own Me. this program has the vibe of an old school show program to a torch song. but more difficult. there’s a beautiful move on the music change - can it be a Choreo Spin if it travels? he was having a convo with Shawn Rettstatt after the event

Flores/Desyatov: Poor Things soundtrack- the Portuguese Dance and O Quarto - omg- i didn’t get it til i saw the whole thing, but this is so perfectly quirky for them. free and seemingly spontaneous is a sweet spot for them i want to see this again

Bashynska/Beaumont: this program is better live but still an odd odd music choice. the choreo slide was much bigger this morning- that’s another interesting thing about seeing practice- how different it can be. i realized some of this program is meant to be funny - Nadiia has a lot of personality, but I don’t think it’s their fault if it’s not coming across- it feels like some of the ideas have been put on them, rather than created with them in mind. i always enjoy them, just wish the programs weren’t so hit and miss

Tkachenko/Kiliakov: Khachaturian- Adagio from Spartacus. first, they’re so young but so solid. they can hang with the seniors but are only 18/19. this piece is one of the most gorgeous big melodies ever- you want to see creamy gliding, deep edges and flow for days, and that’s not really the style at their school maybe? but this music doesn’t feel too big for them, which is a feat for such a young team

Larson/Kapran: Love Story. i find them confusing lol one moment they’re curving and flowing really nicely, then there’s a lot of two foot skating, and hitches in the flow. the judges liked them at this comp

Nosovitskys: Exogenesis - they can flow! why don’t they always skate like this??

that’s the top 10 in the FD - will be back

[1vidapoeticando]

Feche os olhos, e se imagine passeando em um lugar lindo, e com infinitas sensações você sente o aroma do lugar... Sente o sol te aquecer, sente a brisa tocar no seu rosto...Respira um ar puro...Sinta a melodia dos pássaros ao redor cantando pra você...O som que vem das águas de um rio, e em sequencia o som da queda da água da cachoeira...O som da folhas das árvores...Caminhando a diante, lindas flores e borboletas de um lindo jardim que o caminho leva até uma cabana...Você pode ouvir o som do latido de um cãozinho que vem ao seu encontro...Você sente... Um agradável aroma de comida feita no fogão a lenha....Na entrada dessa cabana som dos sinos tocam, anunciando sua chegada...A diante na frente dessa cabana uma pessoa que te observa e te convida a entrar....Você é o convidado especial...Entre seja bem vindo(a)... Não se demore a entrar, uma delíciosa refeição te preparei...Você se pergunta como cheguei até aqui, apenas fechei meus olhos por um instante...Não é ilusão, esse lugar é todo seu...Você tem que deixar vivenciar as melhores sensações da vida...Você nasceu pra vencer e ser feliz, não permita ninguém dizer o...Esse lugar é para você se renovar... E entender que não importa as suas dificuldades e frustrações, você é a cura e o remédio pra você mesmo, nunca pare de lutar...Se precisar chorar chore... Enxugue suas lágrimas e olhe pra você, seu maior e melhor amor é você mesmo... Se ame todos os dias...Isso me tem me dado forças todos os dias....

Cierra los ojos, e imagínate caminando en un lugar hermoso, y con infinitas sensaciones sientes el aroma del lugar... Siente el calor del sol, siente la brisa tocar tu rostro... Respira aire puro... Siente la melodía de los pájaros alrededor cantándote... El sonido que sale de las aguas de un río, y en secuencia el sonido del agua cayendo de la cascada... El sonido de las hojas de los árboles... Caminando adelante, hermosas flores y mariposas de un hermoso jardín que el camino conduce a una cabaña... Puedes escuchar el ladrido de un perro que viene a tu encuentro... Sientes... Un agradable aroma a comida cocinada en una estufa de leña....A la entrada de esta cabaña, el sonido de las campanas anunciando tu llegada...Frente a esta cabaña, una persona te observa y te invita a entrar....Tú eres el invitado especial ...Estate bien adentro viniendo... No tardes mucho en entrar, preparé una comida deliciosa para ti... Te preguntarás cómo llegué aquí, solo cerré los ojos por un momento... No es un ilusión, este lugar es todo tuyo... Tienes que dejarte experimentar las mejores sensaciones de la vida... Naciste para ganar y ser feliz, que nadie lo diga... Este lugar es para que te renueves ... Y entiende que no importan tus dificultades y frustraciones, tú eres la cura y la medicina para ti mismo, nunca dejes de luchar... Si necesitas llorar, llora... Sécate las lágrimas y mírate a ti mismo, tu mayor y el mejor amor eres tú mismo... Ámate a ti mismo todos los días... Esto me ha dado fuerza todos los días....

Close your eyes, and imagine yourself walking in a beautiful place, and with infinite sensations you feel the aroma of the place... Feel the sun warm you, feel the breeze touch your face... Breathe in pure air... Feel the melody of the birds around singing to you... The sound that comes from the waters of a river, and in sequence the sound of the water falling from the waterfall... The sound of the leaves of the trees... Walking forward, beautiful flowers and butterflies from a beautiful garden that the path leads to a cabin... You can hear the sound of a dog barking that comes to meet you... You feel... A pleasant aroma of food cooked on a wood stove ....At the entrance of this hut, the sound of bells ringing, announcing your arrival...In front of this hut, a person is watching you and inviting you to enter....You are the special guest...Be well inside coming... Don't take too long to enter, I prepared a delicious meal for you... You wonder how I got here, I just closed my eyes for a moment... It's not an illusion, this place is all yours... You have to let yourself experience the best sensations in life... You were born to win and be happy, don't let anyone say... This place is for you to renew yourself... And understand that your difficulties and frustrations don't matter , you are the cure and medicine for yourself, never stop fighting... If you need to cry, cry... Wipe your tears and look at yourself, your greatest and best love is yourself... Love yourself everyday ...This has given me strength every day....

Fonte: 1Vidapoeticando 🌺 🍃

Vive a vida!!!! 🥰

Vive la vida!!!! 🥰

Live life!!! 🥰

Love ❤ Amo❤️

[locitapurplepink]

Disney Princess/Fairies Poll Results so far 7

I have so much fun making disney princess polls with you guys. Here's the list of winner from each poll posts that I've made

37. Favorite Princess Amber's dress ( original vs update )

Amber's update dress

38. Favorite Princess Melody's dress ( Yellow vs Pink)

Melody's yellow dress

39. Favorite Princess Isabel's ballgown ( pink vs light yellow )

Isabel's light yellow crown princess ballgown

40. Princess Melody's look ( human vs mermaid )

Mermaid

41. Favorite disney inventor ( Isabel vs Tinkerbell )

Tinkerbell

42. Favorite Princess Isabel's dress ( original vs update )

Isabel's original dress

Note : there are more ideas to come so get ready guys.

[muniii]

Melody Flores

[qstarhalo]

❤︎ Starhalo - "Let's watch the night pass" ❤︎

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY @karoo-o !! Here's my @qsmp-secretvalentine 's to you: A playlist in which starhalo + kids stay out talking and watching the stars and night pass by (until the kids get sleepy)

I wanted to go with the idea of a family outing and I was going to do a picnic themed playlist where Pomme wanted to have a picnic and so they all went on one. However, while it would've a nice one, them staying out at night made more sense and I'm really glad that I stuck with that idea.

Tried to keep the songs have a somewhat calm melody/beat but ehh might have gotten carried away a tad ^^" But nonetheless, I hope you enjoy the songs and happy valentine's day!! <33

Undercut is the YouTube playlist + written out songs:

★ YouTube Link ★

★ Lover is a Day - Cuco

★ Space Song - Beach House

★ Show Me How - Men I Trust

★ 1989 - Delights

★ Everybody Wants To Rule The World - Tears For Fears

★ Flowers to the Moon - Tip Stevens

★ You Might Be Sleeping - Jakob, Clairo

★ Locos - León Larregui

★ Space Girl - Frances Forever

★ Loverboy - A-Wall

★ YKWIM? - Yot Club

★ Ta reine - Angèle

★ What Would I Do - Strawberry Guy

★ Kind of a Nice Time - Vansire

★ Cigarette Daydreams - Cage The Elephant

★ New Flesh - Current Joys

★ Apocalypse - Cigarettes After Sex

★ Freaks - Surf Curse

★ Swing Lynn - Harmless

★ 505 - Arctic Monkeys

★ Greek God - Conan Gray

★ Are You Bored Yet? - Wallows ft. Clairo

★ Cool With You - Her's

★ Let's Fall in Love for the Night (1964) - FINNEAS

★ Put Your Records On - Britt Momney

★ Escapism | Alternative Version - xUnreachablee

★ rises the moon - Liana Flores

★ Je te laisserai des mots - Patrick Watson

★ Ylang Ylang - FNJ, ((( O )))

★ Nostalgia - Joe Hisaishi

★ Fallen Down - Ricky Not Montgomery

★ Adagio - TwoSet Violin

★ Snowfall - øneheart x reindeski

[flan-tasma]

Regalos desde el corazón (Freminet x GN!Reader)

💖~ I hope I'm not wrong with the "receptacle" part, in spanish it's supposed to be called a chalice and when I looked up the name in english I got something like that, if I was wrong please let me know;;;;

Warning: Nope now💖 | Google Translate sponsors me (it's a lie) If I made any mistakes in the english translation, I would be happy to read your comments! | Content in spanish and english

Spanish:

A Freminet se le puede dificultar expresar su amor de manera física, si bien le gusta tomar tu mano por debajo de la mesa, o incluso tenerte a su lado cuando pasean por la corte de Fontaine, siempre tiene está molestia que lo golpea en momentos aleatórios y le recuerda que tiene que recordarte que te ama más que a nada en el mundo, y que debe ser claro con sus emociones, por lo que sus regalos están cargados de sentimientos que puede que no exprese correctamente hasta que los ves.

En su primer aniversario te regaló una caja musical en forma de caracola, por dentro tenía un compartimento en forma de corazón y de ambos lados estaban escritos tu nombre y el suyo sobre el metal, la melodía recordaba a una canción de cuna, tranquila y pacífica, y sobre la tapa de la caja de música tenía este grabado que decía 'Con amor, Freminet.'

En tu cumpleaños trajo consigo un ramo de flores mecánicas cuyos pétalos podías desprender y fácilmente para leer todos los mensajes que estaban escritos. Montones de formas de decir 'Te amo', 'Eres mi otra mitad' y 'Eres perfecta' estabas escritos con su caligrafía hermosa, y dichos pétalos se podían volver a pegar al cáliz con magnetismo. Cuando te lo regaló te prometió que si jugabas al 'Me ama, no me ama' siempre terminarías con la verdad de sus sentimientos gracias a los pétalos planeados para recordarte su amor.

Caracolas con tu nombre, de colores y formas hermosas, todas esas cosas que pueden hacerte recordarlo son sus regalos más valiosos, incluso cuando debe viajar por algún trabajo más pesado y no puede estar contigo se asegura de volver y acercarte a él para remediar el tiempo en que estuvieron lejos el uno del otro.

Los tesoros marinos de colores brillantes y texturas diversas, las piezas mecánicas con fríos engranajes y tornillos apretados, todos esos eran la manera en que Freminet te decía que te amaba cuando no podía decirlo de frente.

English:

Freminet may find it difficult to express his love physically. Although he likes to hold your hand under the table, or even have you by his side when you walk through Fontaine's court, he always has this annoyance that hits him at random moments and reminds him that he has to remind you that he loves you more than anything in the world, and that he must be clear with his emotions, so his gifts are loaded with feelings that he may not express properly until you see them.

On your first anniversary he gave you a musical box in the shape of a conch, inside it had a heart-shaped compartment and on both sides your name and his were written on the metal, the melody was reminiscent of a lullaby, calm and peaceful, and on the lid of the music box it had this engraving that said 'With love, Freminet.'

On your birthday he brought with him a bouquet of mechanical flowers whose petals you could detach and easily read all the messages that were written. Tons of ways to say 'I love you', 'You're my other half' and 'You're perfect' were written in his beautiful calligraphy, and said petals could be re-attached to the receptacle with magnetism. When he gave it to you he promised you that if you played 'He loves me, he loves me not' you would always end up with the truth of his feelings thanks to the petals designed to remind you of his love.

Shells with your name, colorful and beautiful shapes, all those things that can make you remember him are his most valuable gifts, even when he has to travel for some heavier work and can't be with you he makes sure to come back and approach him to remedy the time when you were away from each other.

The marine treasures of bright colors and diverse textures, the mechanical parts with cold gears and tight screws, all of these were Freminet's way of telling you that he loved you when he couldn't say it face to face.

[gabyeditsdetudoofc123]

Brawl stars characteres (edgar, chester, fang, buster, mortis and draco) reacting [reader] singing Ado musics

Port.

Ecos na alma

Edgar:

Era uma tarde cinzenta e Edgar estava sentado na parte mais alta do Starr Park, no telhado de um dos edifícios. Ele gostava da solidão e do silêncio que esse lugar lhe proporcionava. Enquanto observava a paisagem, ouviu uma melodia suave que vinha do chão abaixo.

Curioso, desceu silenciosamente e seguiu o som até encontrar você, sentado em um canto escondido, cantando uma música da Ado. Edgar ficou parado na sombra, ouvindo cada nota. Sua voz era calma e carregada de emoção, algo que tocou o coração dele de uma maneira que ele não esperava.

Quando você terminou, Edgar deu um passo à frente, seu rosto sério, mas os olhos mostrando uma rara suavidade.

"Você canta bem," ele disse simplesmente antes de desaparecer na escuridão.

Chester:

Chester estava praticando alguns truques de mágica em um dos becos do Starr Park quando ouviu sua voz. Ele parou imediatamente, intrigado pela melodia. Seguiu o som até encontrá-lo vindo de um velho carrossel.

Escondido atrás de um dos cavalos de madeira, Chester observou você cantar. Sua voz era tão hipnotizante quanto suas cartas mágicas. Quando você terminou, ele surgiu com um sorriso largo.

"Isso foi incrível! Você tem que se juntar ao meu show algum dia!" ele exclamou, seus olhos brilhando de entusiasmo.

Mortis:

Mortis vagava pelos jardins sombrios do Starr Park, sentindo-se mais melancólico do que o normal. A brisa fria da noite trazia consigo uma voz que soava como um consolo. Ele seguiu o som até encontrar você sentado em um banco, cantando uma balada triste da Ado.

Sua voz parecia entender a escuridão que Mortis sentia. Ele permaneceu nas sombras, ouvindo cada palavra. Quando a música terminou, ele saiu silenciosamente, deixando apenas um murmúrio de aprovação: "Você tem uma voz que toca a alma."

Buster:

Buster estava testando seu novo projetor em um canto isolado do parque quando a música o alcançou. A curiosidade o levou até você, onde viu você cantando sozinho, com os olhos fechados, totalmente imerso na canção.

Buster ficou parado, aplaudindo suavemente quando você terminou. "Você tem um talento incrível," ele disse com um sorriso gentil. "Gostaria de gravar isso um dia?"

Fang:

Fang estava praticando seus movimentos de kung fu perto da fonte quando ouviu sua voz. Ele parou seus treinos, intrigado pela melodia que ecoava pelo parque. Seguiu o som até encontrar você cantando sob uma árvore grande.

Sua voz era tão fluida e graciosa quanto seus próprios movimentos. Quando a música terminou, Fang aproximou-se, aplaudindo entusiasmado. "Essa foi uma performance de tirar o fôlego! Você deveria se apresentar mais vezes."

Draco:

Draco estava relaxando no jardim secreto do Starr Park, um lugar que poucos conheciam. Ele sempre foi atraído pela tranquilidade e pelas flores exóticas. De repente, a serenidade foi ainda mais realçada por sua voz, cantando uma doce canção da Ado.

Ele fechou os olhos e deixou-se levar pela melodia. Quando você terminou, Draco abriu os olhos e se aproximou de você com um sorriso sereno. "Sua voz é como a melodia das flores dançando ao vento," ele disse suavemente. "Continue a cantar, você tem um dom."

Eng.

Echoes in the Soul

Edgar:

It was a gray afternoon and Edgar was sitting at the highest point of Starr Park, on the roof of one of the buildings. He enjoyed the solitude and silence this place offered him. As he observed the landscape, he heard a soft melody coming from below.

Curious, he silently descended and followed the sound until he found you, sitting in a hidden corner, singing a song by Ado. Edgar stood in the shadow, listening to every note. Your voice was calm and laden with emotion, something that touched his heart in an unexpected way.

When you finished, Edgar stepped forward, his face serious but his eyes showing a rare softness.

"You sing well," he said simply before disappearing into the darkness.

Chester:

Chester was practicing some magic tricks in one of the alleys of Starr Park when he heard your voice. He stopped immediately, intrigued by the melody. He followed the sound until he found you near an old carousel.

Hidden behind one of the wooden horses, Chester watched you sing. Your voice was as mesmerizing as his magical cards. When you finished, he emerged with a wide grin.

"That was amazing! You have to join my show someday!" he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Mortis:

Mortis wandered through the shadowy gardens of Starr Park, feeling more melancholic than usual. The cool night breeze carried with it a voice that sounded like comfort. He followed the sound until he found you sitting on a bench, singing a sad ballad by Ado.

Your voice seemed to understand the darkness Mortis felt. He remained in the shadows, listening to every word. When the song ended, he silently left, leaving only a murmured approval: "You have a voice that touches the soul."

Buster:

Buster was testing his new projector in an isolated corner of the park when the music reached him. Curiosity led him to you, where he saw you singing alone, eyes closed, fully immersed in the song.

Buster stood there, clapping softly when you finished. "You have an amazing talent," he said with a gentle smile. "Would you like to record that one day?"

Fang:

Fang was practicing his kung fu moves near the fountain when he heard your voice. He stopped his training, intrigued by the melody echoing through the park. He followed the sound until he found you singing under a large tree.

Your voice was as fluid and graceful as his own movements. When the song ended, Fang approached, clapping enthusiastically. "That was a breathtaking performance! You should perform more often."

Draco:

Draco was relaxing in the secret garden of Starr Park, a place few knew about. He was always drawn to the tranquility and exotic flowers. Suddenly, the serenity was further enhanced by your voice, singing a sweet song by Ado.

He closed his eyes and let himself be carried away by the melody. When you finished, Draco opened his eyes and approached you with a serene smile. "Your voice is like the melody of flowers dancing in the wind," he said softly. "Keep singing, you have a gift."