#not sure what the implications of that being a normal fish would be

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DAY TWENTY-THREE Emmet appreciation month (June 2024)

[fishing]

[awkness]

No Man Is An Island (Part 2)

(Paternal Platonic Yandere oc & Injured Teenage Genderneutral Reader)

(Part 1)

After discovering the flare gun the Henry kept hidden and the confrontation that comes after, you become more determined to leave the island. But Henry becomes more determined to make you stay

Content warning: forced confinement, delusional thinking, briefly mentioned death, general yandere stuff. This one's pretty mild tbh

Word count: 5.7k

Authors note: okay. I know this has taken forever to put out after I said I would and tbh I have no excuse. I just suck at keeping a decent writing schedule lol. This is going to the finale for the series because plot wise, this is the best stopping point. However, if anyone has any suggestions for little drabbles or oneshots I would be okay with writing them. Henry is a fun little critter to write for

You stare down at the flare gun in your hands, trying desperately to grapple with the implications of it existing in Henry's room

How long did he have this here? Why didn't he tell anyone he found it? Why didn't he use it last night when the plane was flying over the island?

While you scramble for answers, you hear a commotion coming from the entrance of the cave. You dully realize that Henry and his fishing group had come back

Adrenaline kicks in, and you shove the flare gun back in its bag and tuck it into its hiding place. You don't know why you're so afraid, but there is something in you that doesn't want Henry to catch you with it

You're making your way to the cave entrance when Henry spots you, walking up to you and telling you about what they've caught: clams, crabs, and whatever else could be foraged

Under normal circumstances, you would be happily talking with him, excited about the successful fishing trip and grateful you didn't have to eat sea cucumbers again. But this time, you were nodding along distractedly, letting Henry carry the conversation as your mind stayed preoccupied with the flare gun that rested a few feet away

He noticed how distracted you were, and he became concerned, asking if you were okay, or if you were starting to get sick, as you seemed pale. He had become much more vigilant over your health since you blacked out after hitting your head a few weeks ago

You reassured him that everything was fine and that you were only hungry. It seemed to have convinced him, and he happily walked you down to the small cooking fire just outside of the cave where everyone else was gathered

As you sat around the fire eating, you found yourself unable to listen to the conversations happening around you, absorbed in your own thoughts about the flare gun and everything its existence implied

Your first thought was to tell the others, let them know that Henry had kept something so vital hidden away from the group because... you couldn't fathom why. Or maybe you could, you just couldn't bear the thought

But that was a serious accusation to makend, especially against Henry, who everyone looked up to not only as a leader but as a means of survival. If you were being honest, you're pretty sure the entire group would have died long ago without him, and everyone knew it. They practically worshipped the ground he walked on, and no one dared to question his word. Their faith in him was unshakable. Why would they believe he kept something so important from them?

Besides, even in the best case scenario where everyone believed you, what could they do? Even though a couple of the people have managed to pick up on his hunting and fishing skills, they weren't at the point where they could sustain the group on their hunts alone. Henry was still pulling in about half the group's food. Everyone was dependent on him, especially you

Despondent, you resolved to keep knowledge of the flare gun to yourself. Instead, when Henry left tomorrow to go hunting again, you would take the flare gun and hide it somewhere only you knew, so that the next time a plane or boat passed by, you would stand a chance to get off the island

As you were deep in thought, you failed to notice the way Henry kept glancing your way, a suspicious look in his eyes

Later that night, when you were getting ready for bed, doubt and anxiety clouded your mind. What if he had a good reason for keeping the flare gun hidden this entire time? What if you were making a mistake in trying to take it from him?

Logically, you knew there was no good reason to keep the flare gun a secret, but your mind couldn't fully accept it. Henry had been nothing but kind to you since the moment you crashed here, a safe, stable presence you could depend on without fault. Even with physical proof and the weird conversation you had the night your group saw the plane, you still couldn't believe he would do this

You wanted to confront him about it, but your more rational side held you back. Still, youu still wanted to ask him something, anything, just to know if you were making the right decision

So you blurted out the first thing you thought of

"If you were home right now, what would you do?"

He looked up briefly from where he was fixing the palm leaves on his makeshift bed, a slightly bewildered look on his face.

"Home?"

"Yeah. If you were magically transported back home right now, what would you do?"

He gave a small chuckle as an easygoing smile spread on his face.

"Kid, this is my home."

Your heart rate spiked at his words and you shifted in your seat.

"Okay, fine. If you were taken back to the mainland, what would you do?"

"I'd do everything I could to get back."

A brief moment elapsed as the weight of his words sunk in.

"And you? What would you do if you were back there?"

His words were casual, but there was something hopeful and searching in his eyes.

You spoke honestly.

"I would find my family, and I would have them take me home."

He gave you a slight smile and a nod, but it was all wrong. Even in the dim light, you could see that it was tight and sour, like he was fighting to keep it on his face

You didn't bother speaking after that, and neither did he. You simply went to bed. As you lay awake on your own pile of crushed bamboo and palm leaves in the dark, listening to the snores of your fellow survivors and the buzzing of a million insects both in and out of your cave, any doubt about what you needed to do was gone. You were going to take the flare gun and rebuild the signal fire on the coast, even if you had to do it by yourself

When morning came, your nerves were calm, making it easier to play along with your normal morning routine. Wake up at sunrise, gather water so you could bathe, and then wave goodbye to Henry and the rest of his hunting group as they went to get breakfast.

As soon as they disappeared into the trees, you went back into the cave to grab the flare gun

You found the bag right where you left it, but something was off. It didn't feel right. You opened the bag to find a moderately sized rock inside. No flare gun in sight

Shakily, you put the rock inside and tucked it back into its hiding spot. Only one thought rattled inside your head: he knew

You stand there for the longest time, shock keeping you rooted to the spot before you got a hold of yourself. With little choice left, you grabbed the flint and steel that Henry kept in his side of the cave and hurried out as fast as your makeshift crutches could carry you

As you passed the cave entrance, you barely took notice of the person tending to the cooking fire, Jessica, you think, until she called your name

You turned and she began to ask you about where you were going and why you looked so distressed

This was... odd. You knew this girl or, to be more precise, knew of her. With everyone living so close together, of course you had talked to her before, but it was never over anything meaningful. She had certainly never asked where you were going or expressed concern for you before. Hell, it took her a few weeks to even learn your name!

You told her you were headed for the beach, and that seemed to make her nervous. She stammered out something about how the weather would turn bad soon, and that you should stay inside of the cave. You looked up, and the sky was clear. Not a cloud in sight. You then stared back at her nervous face for a moment, not a word exchanged between you two, before heading towards the beach

She quickly got up and followed you, saying something about how she had wanted to go on a walk anyway

As you made the trip, you gathered whatever dry wood you could find, making Jessica carry it for you

When you made it to the edge of the beach, you gathered up the wood and began striking the flint and steel, trying to get a flame to catch. Jessica stood off to the side, shifting in place while eyeing the jungle, neither offering help nor discouragement

After a few minutes, a small flame caught, and you gently blew on it to get it to grow, until it was able to survive on its own. Slowly, you began feeding it dried twigs and sticks

Jessica eventually decided to sit next to you, watching the flame for a while before asking you why you built one so far away from the caves

You explained that you wanted a signal fire on the beach so passing ships and planes could see you. Something sad and conflicted crossed her face as she tried to tell you it had been nearly half a year, and that no one was coming. You cut her off and told her that as long as you were alive, there was hope of leaving. She didn't say anything else, and you didn't either

The sun crawled across the sky, and the temperatures rose with it. Jessica tried to get you to head back to the caves to get food or at least some water, but you refused. You may be thirsty, hungry, and miserable from the humidity and the exertion it took to walk out here with a broken leg, but the thought of returning made your blood run cold. Something inside of you said that if you made the choice to go back, then it was all over. You would never be able to leave the island

By mid-afternoon, Jessica left, mumbling something about going to get water. You didn't acknowledge her, almost certain she wasn't coming back

When you heard the sound of footsteps half an hour later, you thought she had actually returned. Surprised, you looked up to greet her, only to see Henry smiling, a jug of water in his hand and a couple of skewered fish in the other

You reluctantly accepted the food and water, and the both of you sat in silence while you ate

The sun was starting to set by the time Henry tried asking you about the fire. You didn't respond. He kept pressing the issue, then tried switching to different subjects, asking about your leg, how you were feeling, anything and everything to get you to talk. Eventually, you interrupted him

"Where's the flare gun?"

That got him to shut up. For a moment, he said nothing, staring into the fire like it could give him the answer. Finally, he spoke.

"... For a while, there, I thought I was being paranoid when I moved it. That I read the situation wrong. But then Jessica came back and told me where you were, and I realized I never doubted my decision, I just didn't want to be right. I was afraid of having this talk. "

"Where is it?"

"Bottom of the ocean."

Your heart plummeted to your stomach, but Henry pressed on.

"I know you're not gonna believe me, kid, I don't expect you to. It still sounds crazy to me, but it's true."

"After... the accident, I was lost. All I had ever wanted was to be a dad, and it was taken from me. I spent years trying to find myself again. I sold everything; my car, my house, and anything I couldn't carry in my pack and traveled. First, it was just across the US, roughing it in whatever place I'd end up, then backpacking my way across Europe, trying to find some kind of revelation that could make sense of what happened, but I never found it. I was on my way to Australia when our plane crashed, and I thought it was a punishment. That after failing to protect my family and running away from it all, that this is what I deserve, to die on an island in the middle of nowhere with no one to grieve me."

He began to smile, but it was tight, like he was fighting to keep it down.

"But then I saw you, the spitting image of my baby all grown up. And then we found the cave, and the fresh water, and I realized this wasn't a punishment. This is my reward. After all the pain and the suffering, I finally have what I want. I can be whole again."

"What about all the other people? They don't deserve to be stuck here!"

He shrugged, his smile never wavering.

"Collateral, I suppose. They don't matter much."

"What about me? I had a family already and I loved them, and they loved me! I didn't deserve to be taken away from them."

"I know it seems like they loved you and that you were happy, but I promise, you weren't. It wasn't real. The island wouldn't have brought you here if it was. You're meant to be here, just as much as me. It might take a while, but you'll realize it eventually. You'll grow to love it more than you ever loved your old home."

You looked at him, his smile almost ghoulish in the waning light of the sunset. You tried to reconcile this man with the same man you saw the first day of the crash, his calm, comforting demeanor of him talking you through those horrible events of the first day, and it clashed with the deranged image before you. It made no sense. How long had he been like this? Was it the effects of the island, or was he always like this? Unable to make up your mind, you say the first thing that pops in your head

"You're fucking crazy."

His smile didn't waver. He merely nodded at your words.

"I had a feeling this was how it was going to go."

He clapped his hands on his legs as he pushed himself up and walked towards you.

"But it'll all turn out fine. There's plenty of time for you to come around."

With that, he kicked sand on your fire until it fizzled out. You tried to stop him, but it was gone in only a matter of seconds

The most disturbing thing about the island that you had never been able to adjust to wasn't the bugs or isolation, but the dark. Every night, after the sunset, you were practically blind, unable to make out anything in front of you. And on moonless nights like tonight? Complete and utter darkness. Unless you had a torch with you, it made navigating the island impossible

You yelled at him, asking him why he would extinguish the only light you had. How would you get back to the cave? He waved off your concerns like they didn't matter

Suddenly you felt a pair of arms lift you up, and your first instinct was to struggle against it, but you stopped yourself. Even now, you knew you couldn't make it back on your own. So you clung to him, letting Henry carry you back to the cave

As he walked, you noticed no hesitancy in his movements. No bumping into bushes or trees, no feet getting caught in roots or holes, absolutely nothing. And you knew that he was just as blind as you were out here. It was like he knew the island like the back of his hand

Jessica was at the cave entrance, tending to the fire like she had this morning. She gave you a wave and a small, apologetic smile, but you didn't return it

He took you to your bed and wished you a good night before he returned to his own

It took you hours to fall asleep, and when you finally did, it was troubled, full of half-remembered nightmares and fear. When you woke up, it was well past dawn, and Henry was already gone

You sat up and tried to reach for your crutches, only to realize they weren't anywhere near you. Panic and confusion flooded your mind until you remembered what happened last night. You didn't walk back here, Henry carried you, leaving your crutches behind. Distantly, you wondered if he did that on purpose

You sat there for a while, trying to wrap your mind around your mobility problem when a voice called out to you. It was Jessica, carrying your crutches

After she gave them to you, she started to explain that yesterday, Henry had expressed worry over your mental state, telling her that the fall you took might have been more serious than he previously thought, and that he's only catching on to it now. He had asked her to watch you and make sure you didn't leave the cave

She wasn't sure what to make of it. Though she didn't believe there was something wrong with you, she also didn't know you that well, and who was she to question Henry? And, according to her, she had always been a pushover, so she agreed

But then you were leaving, and she couldn't find it in herself to make any serious effort to stop you, so she followed you instead. Watching you navigate your way with your broken leg, and your determination in starting the fire, your reasoning for it all, it spoke to her. Maybe Henry and the rest of the survivors were resigned to stay, but she still wanted to go home, too

A spark of hope lit in your chest. For the first time since learning about Henry's betrayal, you didn't feel alone

Hesitantly, you told her that Henry had put out the fire when he brought you back. She seemed shocked, but not disbelieving, commenting that he seemed to enjoy living on the island a little too much for her comfort. If only she knew the full story

You considered telling her, but you didn't want to sound crazy and lose the only ally you had. So, you simply nodded, and together you formed a plan

The both of you would go down to the shore and pick a spot that Henry wouldn't suspect. Then at night, one of you would go down and start and maintain the fire throughout the night

Unfortunately, Henry had figured out what was happening rather quickly. One night, he followed you down to the beach, only revealing himself when you started the fire

You expected him to put it out and carry you back to the cave, but instead, he sat down next to you and apologized for kicking out your fire the other day. You didn't think he was sincere for a second, but you nodded at him anyway. He took that as a signal to start talking, ang he eventaully started telling stories, and not just any stories, but the corny kind you tell around a campfire while roasting hot dogs and marshmallows to try and scare each other. All overdone spooks and muffled laughs and good cheer. The non-serious attitude he had made you uneasy, but you didn't know what to do, other than let him continue

The next time you came down, he walked with you, and you saw that between your shifts, he had made two elevated cots made of bamboo, cordage, and palm leaves next to the firepit

He seemed proud of himself, going over to them and telling you how they were made, where he had learned how to make them, and other bits of information you didn't bother listening to, too caught up in your own thoughts to care

Seeing these cots finally made you realize why you disliked him telling you those campfire stories the night before: it meant that he didn't care about you trying to get rescued, because he genuinely didn't believe it was going to happen. That this was all useless, and that you would eventually fizzle out and stop trying to contact the outside world. That this would all amount to nothing more than memories of camping and bonding with the man who was convinced he was meant to be your father

Mechanically, you went about lighting the fire and carefully tending to it like you had every other night. Henry watched you work, a passive look on his face. He complimented how fast you put it together, and how much better you've gotten at it since you started. You couldn't hide your grimace

Two months had passed since you lit the first beach fire, and emotionally, you were worn out

It wasn't how humid and hot it was sleeping outside of the caves, or how much the night shifts threw off your circadian rhythm, or how isolating it was to spend most of your waking time maintaining the fire. (though all of these did suck) What really did you in was Henry's company

Despite everything that he had done, he still acted like the same Henry you knew. Patient, soft-spoken, slightly socially awkward, with a penchant for terrible dad jokes. And above all, he was caring. It didn't matter how much you bristled at him trying to care for a cut palm, or how often you brushed off his concerns over your worsening sleep, or rebuked what seemed like honest sympathy in your worst moments when you were all but convinced that help wouldn't arrive, he would still find ways to talk you into letting him help

And when he finally did... it felt nice. Of course, you also felt anger and a deep sense of shame, but none of those could drown out the relief of having someone take care of you. You had missed your parents so much, and even though you knew he wasn't a substitute for them, the attention and concern from him felt so similar. You often felt a pang of sadness when you thought about it. In another life, he would have been a good dad

Then, there were those nights when you were so worn down that you couldn't help but give in and talk to him. In those moments, it felt like nothing bad had happened between you two. Henry wasn't a sad, delusional man trying desperately to fill the hole in his heart, and you weren't a castaway kept prisoner by him

In your mind, you could imagine that you and your parents went on a camping trip with Uncle Henry, a close family friend. They were off gathering supplies from the car while you and Henry tended to the fire, him teaching you about wilderness survival and stories of his trips abroad to pass the time while waiting for them to come back

You wondered, when you finally got rescued, if that has to be a fantasy. Maybe when you got back, you could urge him to seek help, and perhaps, he could get better. Introduce him to your family, invite him over for Sunday dinners with your other aunts, uncles, and cousins. Let him know that he doesn't have to be alone or suffer in his delusions. That he can still have a family without having to keep it trapped, that you can be free and loved

By the end of the second month, you were on the edge, wondering how much longer you could continue doing this. Jessica was worn out as well, and you could see the conviction slowly leave her eyes, day after day. You wondered when she would finally come up to you and tell you that she was done

Tonight, you were alone, slowly feeding the flame dry sticks and grass, staring aimlessly into the horizon

You barely noticed it at first, it blending into the night sky like a wallflower. But then it got a little closer, a little brighter, and your eyes refocused, fixated on it. A light in the distant, black horizon creeping closer

Adrenaline pumped through your body, lighting your chest aflame as you raced into the edge of the jungle and started gathering more wood to pile on the signal fire. You ignored the bites from mosquitos and cuts and bumps from the trees and plants around you. Your pain didn't matter, not like the fire did

You began feeding the fire as much wood as it could take without smothering it, eyes rapidly moving back and forth from the light to the flame

As the light grew closer, and closer, your heart beat faster and faster, threatening to burst out of your chest. You were almost lightheaded with joy, unable to think straight. The moment you began to make out the faint outline of a ship heading your way, you started screaming and waving your hands like a lunatic, not caring if they were still too far away to hear you. You couldn't stop yourself

A few minutes later, rustling could be heard behind you, and then a burst of noise, cheers and screams tearing through the night. You turned to find that a few survivors had come out of the cave to see what you were yelling about, Henry included

The group was ecstatic, yelling and waving and crying in joy, but Henry stayed back, stock still, staring at the boat with the same subdued face of panic that a person seeing an oncoming tsunami would have. Full of despair and fear over what was to come, but knowing you were useless to prevent it from happening

It dampened your delirious excitement for a brief moment, and you walked up to him, touching his shoulder to get his attention. His eyes snapped down to yours, alarmed at the sudden touch. You gave him a small smile and tried to reassure him

"I know you didn't want this to happen, but this is a good thing, I promise."

There was no response, only wild, fearful eyes. You could only hope it brought him some kind of comfort

The rest of the group made it to the beach and began yelling and cheering as well, and you decided to join them, finding Jessica in the crowd. She all but jumped on you, hugging you close as she cried

Some way off the coast, the ship, a commercial fishing vessel, came to a stop and a smaller boat was lowered into the water, a lone man naviagting his way to shore

When he finally made it to land and the excitement was overwhelming. Everyone welcomed him with an enormous amount of joy before he could even speak a word. One survivor even ran up and flung themself on him, kissing him on the cheek, to the fisherman's amusement and shock

It took a few minutes for everyone to calm down long enough for the man to speak, informing the group that they could only bring over a few people at a time. To your surprise, Henry asked to be a part of the first group taken to the ship. After everything that he had done for them, no one in the group questioned it, easily allowing him the spot. You were also part of that first trip, considering you were injured. There was a medic on board, and they wanted to have a look at your leg. A few more people were placed on the small boat, and then it was back on the sea, heading towards the main ship

You gave a brief wave to Jessica as the before the boat sped off, and she waved back, eyes still watery. For the first time since you crashed, you thought you would be okay

As the ship grew closer, you spared a glance at Henry, who hadn't taken his eyes off it the entire way there. His face was fixed, eyes glazed, like he was lost in thought, completely immersed in his mind. You let him be. You knew how tough this was for him, and you were happy that he was finally accepting his this

Everyone was pulled on board, and the ship's crew became preoccupied with taking care of the survivors, with you being taken to see the ship's medic. You easily lost track of Henry in the confusion

You were taken to a room, and inside a middle-aged, graying man with a worn-down face and a warm smile greeted you. He looked over your leg and commented that it looked nearly fully healed, and that you must of been well taken care of. Wistfully, you agreed

He tells you that you're all set to leave, and points you in the direction of where all the other survivors were being kept

In the short walk between rooms, you let your mind drift, thinking about all the things you'll do when you finally make it home, and how wonderful it will be to finally have a real shower, sleep on a real bed, and finally not eat food with seasoning again. You were completely lost in your daydreams. Perhaps this is why you didn't hear anyone sneaking up behind you

One moment, you were walking down the hall, the next a hand clamped over your mouth, and another secured itself around your torso, dragging you into the nearest room

Cloth was stuffed in your mouth, and you were easily wrestled down to the floor, limbs pinned down as your attacker hogtied them together

You tried to fight, but it was useless, the figure easily outclassing you in height and weight. But you tried to anyway, survival instincts already kicked into overdrive

In your frantic struggles, you finally caught a glimpse of who your attacker was and stopped moving

It was Henry

He locked eyes with you, and for a moment, no one moved. He only stared, his face grim and regretful, mouth pressed into a thin line

Shock finally wore off, and you took this opportunity to headbutt him in his nose

He easily dodged your attack, and then finished binding your limbs. With practiced movements, he dragged you over to a closet and placed you inside, disturbingly gentle in the way he handled you

He gave you a look before muttering a quiet apology and closing the door

You immediately started squirming on the floor like a wild animal, screams trying so hard to leave your mouth, only for it to be muffled by your gag

No amount of pulling or wiggling could get you free of your restraints, the knots were too tight, the rope too strong

You resorted to kicking against the door, hoping beyond hope that someone would hear you and come to your rescue

Minutes passed, and though you slowed down, you didn't stop, despite how tired and heavy your legs grew. You couldn't stop. You were almost home. What was Henry doing?

Finally, the door opened, and for a moment, you were overtaken with joy, only to see that it was Henry again

You pushed yourself as far away from him as you could, but there was no point. You couldn't get away from him. He picked you up and carried you out of the room, rapidly making his way to the deck, towards the same tiny lifeboat you had been rescued with

He lowered you into the boat, and next to you were boxes of food and medical supplies that weren't there before, before getting on the boat himself and starting the boat's motor, making his way back to the island

The fight was burnt out of you now, body sore from the exertion and emotional rollercoaster of the past hour. You could only lie down and try and think of another way out

Quickly, you realized the futility of what Henry was doing. Okay, he had managed to get you and him back to the island, but so what? People were going to notice that you and Henry were missing. Couple that with the missing lifeboat, and it would become pretty clear what had happened. The fisherman may not be able to reach you without the boat, but they knew where you were. They would go back to the mainland, inform people of where you were, and rescue would come again. Henry had only bought himself time, but he still lost. You were going to get off this island. You were going to be okay-

A skull-shatteringly loud explosion and a blinding light came from behind the lifeboat, drowning out your thoughts. Shockwaves were sent from the explosion that caused waves, rocking the tiny lifeboat and pushing it even closer to the island

You tried to prop yourself up to see over the walls of the boat, to show yourself that what you thought happened didn't happen at all. But it was only after the boat came ashore and Henry pulled you out and gently placed you on the sand did you manage to finally get a look

Out in the horizon, in the dim twilight of the early morning, the sinking wreckage of the ship you had just been on only minutes before was up in flame. There was no movement other than the floating debris, no sound other than your muffled cries

You could only stare, watching the fire get smaller as it sunk into the sea

"You know I had to do it, right?"

You glance back to Henry, and saw the worried look on his face. Desperate, almost pleading. It aged him more than a million days on this island ever could.

"I didn't have a choice. They were taking us away. I couldn't let that happen."

He kept staring at you like he was looking for something. Forgiveness? Reassurance? Even if you did want to offer those to him, you couldn't. Your mouth was gagged, and your hands were tied. All you could do was watch him fall apart

"I couldn't go back. There's nothing out there waiting for me but pain and loneliness. Do you know what's it's like to be so alone? To not have a purpose? It would of killed me. I can't-"

He placed his face in his hands, took a deep, shaky breath, and released it. He gripped the side of his face as he slowly fell to his knees on the sand, eyes wide and far away as you continued to cry into your gag and stare

"I had to. I didn't have a choice. They would of taken you away. I had to, I had to, I had to..."

[sleepythegh0st]

Who Each Hatsune Miku: COLORFUL STAGE! Character Would Main in Mario Kart

Because it did so well on my Instagram

Ichika is the first of many who discovered that her main from 8 was cut from World. She used to use the female Villager. At first she wasn't sure what to do... that was until she saw Pokey, the literal cactus. She's not worried anymore.

Saki has been a Toadette girl her whole life and doesn't plan on stopping. She matches with Tsukasa =]

Honami was another victim of her main being cut, as she used to use Isabelle. She joined the Cow Crew pretty quickly though.

Shiho used to main Dry Bones. When she saw Nabbit's reveal however, she decided there was no turning back.

Minori uses Daisy, her favourite princess. She's always loved her because in her mind, they look alike. You know what they say, "What little girl doesn't dream of being a princess?"

Haruka used to use Kamek because he looked the closest to a penguin. Needless to say, the inclusion of an actual penguin in World is a dream come true for her.

Airi used to be a Cat Peach truther. She's hoping to find out that she's still there in costume form, but until then, she's settling for normal Peach.

Shizuku also has a favourite princess. You'll likely never see a day she doesn't use Rosalina.

Kohane, being a fan of cute little guys, is loving the new roster for World. She was very quick to abandon Tanuki Mario when she saw Monty Mole.

An is a big fan of Pauline. Need I explain why?

Akito is the resident Dry Bowser fan who is not happy to see he was cut, although you'll never see him admit it. He claims to not care, and is apparently perfectly fine with using normal Bowser in his absence, but secretly, he's hoping to see Dry Bowser return as a costume.

Toya has loved Yoshi since he was little. He was always partial to one of the blue variants, and he is very intrigued by the implication that all colors come with their own costume now.

Tsukasa has always, and will always use Toad, as mentioned before. The day Saki gives up Toadette is the day Tsukasa gives up Toad.

Emu used to use Bowser Jr. She was a big fan of the Koopalings. However, as soon as her eyes met Para-Biddybud, she fell in love. She almost doesn't want to play Mario Kart until she can use it she's so excited.

Nene was devastated at the loss of Link. She thought it would be impossible to choose a new main... because now she had to choose between two fish. Ultimately she chose Cheep Cheep because she thought it was cuter.

Rui used to use Pink Gold Peach largely because Nene complained about her inclusion all the time. He isn't particularly bothered about losing her, because he still has King Boo, his real favourite.

Kanade specifically liked the white Shy Guy. She isn't bothered by the colors being costume specific now, as she really only played for the music anyway.

Mafuyu used to use regular old Mario simply because she didn't care. For some reason she's keen on trying the Snowman...

Ena and Airi used to match, as when Airi would use Cat Peach, Ena would use normal Peach. When they found out Cat Peach was being removed, Ena decided to sacrifice her main and look for a new one because they did not want to use the same character. She thought it would be an impossible task, but so far, Swoop has caught her eye.

Mizuki uses Birdo. All of you know why, I'm sure.

[clockwayswrites]

This is why Moku and I are dangerous to each other:

clockways — Today at 2:01 AM

OKAY Danny/Tim where Danny is either ghost king or working for Clockwork or playing Reaper or something showing up to talk to Tim like "MY DUDE, you have got to stop killing so many people, even if it's in the name of good, esp when they're surrounded by rancid ectoplasm"

And this is now the Bats learn about Tim's LOA kill count

Mokulule — Today at 2:12 AM

Heheheh oh yesss

Does Danny show up in the middle of like a supposedly secure location in the middle of a mission?

Like “dude please, I do not need the assassin influx, you have any idea of the trouble you caused killing so many at once?”

Mokulule — Today at 2:19 AM

I’m kinda imagining these new ghosts still following Ra��s Al Ghul fanatically unless Danny can somehow get them rehabilitated and imagine if they found their way to the living world?! Do you want that madman to have a ghost army?

clockways — Today at 2:19 AM

I think a mission or right in the middle of the cave, yeah

and totally, like the pit waters have a Not Good effect on the ghosts so they're even more off than normal I think

Mokulule — Today at 2:22 AM

Okay but I am liking the implication here that Tim has been having this ongoing crusade against Ra’s in the background of everything where he keeps blowing up LOA bases and somehow managing to keep it secret

Here B thought Ra’s was his nemesis, turns out attention had shifted to Tim years ago

clockways — Today at 2:25 AM

Yes, Tim is 100% the Detective now and Ra's keeps being a creepy obsessed mo-fo and Tim just keeps finding ways to blow shit up. if it started at 17 could say Tim is 20, 21 now so they've been at it three years or so

Mokulule — Today at 2:26 AM

And like Danny has had enough, there’s so many of them they have their own realm in the realms and are stirring up trouble trying to find ways back into the living world

clockways — Today at 2:27 AM

Yeeeees They're basically segregated into a specific area of the realms and are still causing shit

Mokulule — Today at 2:28 AM

Maybe they even have their own pseudo pit from gathering rancid ectoplasm and it’s messing up the ecosystem and they’re hurting the blobs that would otherwise be cleaning that shit up

And the pseudo pit is definitely not helping their mental stability

Just trash assassin baby ghosts

clockways — Today at 2:29 AM

LOL Blob ghost sucker fish! yes xD

Mokulule — Today at 2:29 AM

They need rehabilitation and a bath and like it’s really not helping that Tim keeps sending more

clockways — Today at 2:30 AM

Every time Danny starts to get a handle on it BAM more assassins and more bad juice

And then Danny has to ramp up the blob ghost breeding again

Mokulule — Today at 2:31 AM

Yeah and he can only handle a couple at a time and he also has to make sure they don’t go back once he’s gotten them out and it’s just a mess

clockways — Today at 2:31 AM

OKAY OKAY WAIT. Danny makes an appointment with Tim as Wayne CEO

Shows up in his human guise with Tim as just Tim which sets up all sorts of alarms

Mokulule — Today at 2:32 AM

Ahahahaha yesss this is like a corporate problem 😂

clockways — Today at 2:32 AM

How is this normal seeming dude associated with the LOA?? What does he know about Tim??? Who is he???

Dany is just :) Look at me, using the proper channels!

Mokulule — Today at 2:32 AM

Danny is trying to go about this the right way official like

🤝

clockways — Today at 2:32 AM

🤝

Mokulule — Today at 2:33 AM

😂 everyone is very suspicious of Danny Fenton

clockways — Today at 2:34 AM

It doesn't help that he has officially been missing in the living realm since he graduated high sch9ool

(someone ((lancer)) finally noticed and reported him)

Mokulule — Today at 2:34 AM

Oh yeah even more suspicious for potential LOA connection

The fact that it was an old teacher and not his parents reporting him missing despite having graduated high school is also concerning

clockways — Today at 2:37 AM

mmmmy hum just all these red flags and it's very frustrating for the whole batfam.

Mokulule — Today at 2:38 AM

And like the guy looks like Danny Fenton, but is he really? He’s somehow very careful about not leaving prints and DNA where he goes, they’ve not been able to get any surefire confirmation this is indeed Danny Fenton

clockways — Today at 2:38 AM

AND THEN there is a gala that Ra's also shows up to... as does Danny. Just... to keep an eye on things. (He's worried about ghost assassins.)

But Tim sees Danny out of the corner of his eye and !!!

(Danny just went intangible through the wall, he's totally not on the guest list)

Mokulule — Today at 2:40 AM

Oh yes, he’s dressed up well enough, he’s had to learn that as a king and fits in just fine

clockways — Today at 2:42 AM

Tim can't help but recognize that Danny is handsome.

Mokulule — Today at 2:43 AM

Tim thinking he’s got two enemies at the gala now - has Tim told the other bats about Danny or is he hiding that? Cause then Tim might think the others have Ra’s handled so he has to handle Danny- and yeah okay he is very handsome, now that he’s not busy internally freaking out over what he knows (which he was at the first meeting)

clockways — Today at 2:45 AM

Depends how much the Bats know about Ra's interest in Tim. If they're aware at all, he's told them I think since Danny know is a threat to them all. 🤔

But I do still see him handling Danny either way since Danny hasn't met the family- keep things separate until there is no doubt.

Mokulule — Today at 2:46 AM

Okay but Clock, has Danny in his attempt at going through proper channels and requesting a meeting completely forgotten to mention the word ghost since he thought that was implied when he said the dead assassins were a problem for him?

clockways — Today at 2:47 AM

100%

He is still a disaster at explaining things

And look Tim is damn cute, Danny was a little flustered.

Mokulule — Today at 2:48 AM

So when Tim asks him what he’s doing there at the gala and he tells him that he’s keeping an eye out for assassins - Tim maybe takes that as a threat - like Tim thinks they’re playing 5D mental chess here, but Danny is a disaster and is not even playing chess

clockways — Today at 2:49 AM

!! OH Added bonus, Danny's etiquette training is all be like Dorathea and Pandora and etc, so he has a rather unusual speach pattern in King Mode which makes him seem that maybe common english isn't his first language but if he is Danny Fenton that doesn't track....

Mokulule — Today at 2:50 AM

Oh yesss good

clockways — Today at 2:50 AM

They have to end up on the dance floor, of course.

Mokulule — Today at 2:50 AM

Of course

Obligatory

clockways — Today at 2:51 AM

Danny is just all :) I'm putting my training to use! This is going so well!

Tim >:| What is this man playing at...

Mokulule — Today at 2:51 AM

Yes XD

clockways — Today at 2:52 AM

Ra's takes an instant hatred to Danny because he is Taking Tim's Attention!

Mokulule — Today at 2:52 AM

Eventual reveal is going to be hilarious

clockways — Today at 2:52 AM

Which makes Tim think that Ra's and Danny are old enemies

Mokulule — Today at 2:52 AM

Oh yess hahaha Ra’s now trying to have Danny killed

Now Danny is having to deal with both living and dead assassins he is not amused, but if he gets them away from Ra’s in the living world that will help some problems down the line. Just every assassin Ra’s sends disappears and no bodies turn up

clockways — Today at 2:55 AM

It's driving both Tim and Ra's mad

Things maybe come to a head when some of the ghost assassins try to go after Tim and Phantom shows up?

Mokulule — Today at 2:57 AM

XD Does Tim realize this is Danny or does he now think there’s another player?

Are they aware of Phantom as a ghost hero?

clockways — Today at 2:59 AM

HUM so I kinda want to say Tim does put 2 + 2 together- at least at some point. Maybe just because Phantom's new outfit mirrors what his formal clothing had. Not like perfectly but there's a lot of parallels in color and things

Maybe not till he's safe and- if they know of Phantom- they're back somewhere secure

Tim just holding an ice pack to his head jolting up and pointing a finger at Phantom "You're Danny!!!"

Phantom: Uh, yeah??? Of course I am?

-

And then @mokulule got distracted by fic and I went to sleep cause it was 3am. But my can we go from 'random statement' to 60% of a fic outline in no time. (Not it.)

[cryptidcorners]

Hi! Could I request literally any kind of story with protective Mike (from the FNAF movie). It really doesn't matter in what sort of context it is, I just want some protectiveness. Thank you so much in advance!

~ Mike Schmidt x Reader ~

= Title: Sheild

= Character: Mike Schmidt

= Media: Movie!Five Nights At Freddie's

= Prompt: N/A

= Description: During a coffee break, Mike notices you look more worried than normal. In reality, a former friend of yours is on the same floor as you, and the troubles you faced with them drive you away from Mike. It isn't until they finally approach and you see a different side of him.

= Request: "Hi! Could I request literally any kind of story with protective Mike (from the FNAF movie). It really doesn't matter in what sort of context it is, I just want some protectiveness. Thank you so much in advance!"

= Tags: Fluff ! Small Angst? Mall Setting, Protective Mike, Sweet Talk, Platonic (with Slight Romantic Implications? It's up for you to decide !), Affection, Cute Ending + Reader is !GN

= Warnings: Slight Stalking? (Reader has a Former Friend who approaches them (!GN)), Some Tension + Anxiety/Worry + No Spoilers, Really!

"Is something wrong?" Mike's curious tone had fished you out of your softened paralysis. In a flash, your eyes flicked upwards. You had forgotten where you were due to your gaze being on someone else. "What? Oh, sorry." Your palms sunk around the design of your coffee cup, and with its heat bleeding around your fingertips, you promptly pulled away.

"Sorry," you echoed. "I dozed off."

Even the busy foreground of the mall couldn't hook your mind. You weren't trying to be rude, or ignore Mike on purpose, but you couldn't stop thinking about them. Your lips twisted into a frown.

"Everything okay?" His face softened with concern. Even with that, you still looked around as if you were dazed. That's when he connected the dogs and reluctantly spilled a: "Is somebody bothering you?" Mike's throat strengthened. He didn't even have a set response but his shoulders were already peaking.

"Maybe," you sighed. Your warm hand fell to your cheek. His face fell and you quickly brushed it off. "It's nothing, don't worry about it."

Mike was getting antsy in his seat. "You can tell me who they are. I'll tell them to go, I mean, I am a guard. It's what I do, you know?" As if to showcase his title, he sat up, expressing his "security" symbol running across his light uniform. That brought you some ease. Sort of.

Then you felt his hand on yours, grasping it protectively. "Please? Tell me who it is." Mike asked, "I don't want you to feel this way." Would it be wrong to tell him? The character orbiting in your mind had not hurt you per say, but you had history. It hurt too much to see them.

You sighed and gave him a reassuring grin. Your eyes were still on Mike, "It's okay, I know I'll be fine with you here."

Mike pulled away shyly. He could defend you easily, but he still had to make sure he knew. Before you could speak after a sorry sip of your coffee, a dreadful buzz crawled out of Mike's radio. Rapid, low-quality chatter. Mike looked like a lost animal, and hesitated to leave. But, he had a duty. "Damnit, I gotta go. I'll see you later?"

"Right, right. Bye," you awkwardly waved. You felt ridiculous. You were so focused on somebody you used to know while having a brief coffee date with your friend. It was hard to ever grab a seat with Michael, and you managed to mess it up.

Your disappointed expression rested on your face with a soft groan. Stupid.

"Hey there." A familiar voice made you feel like a fish out of water. Your attention flew upwards. You shuttered, "Hey?"

Internally, you were panicking. The same person you were shivering over was now looming over your shoulder. They must have waited until Mike had left. Damnit.

You were trying to pull away from their conversation. You both had left on bad terms, and it felt uncomfortable how sweet they were. There was nothing kind about them at all. And you knew it.

"I should really go," you finally declared. You attempted to pull out of your seat, but a sudden force stopped you. They grabbed your arm.

"But it's only been a few minutes, come on."

"I really want to stay, but I need to go." You said nervously. They didn't budge.

Anxiety began to grow, and your mouth was sewed shut. You completely drowned away everything they were saying until you heard a vicious: "Get off!" from Mike.

He gripped their shoulder and pulled them aside. Mike sucked his teeth and swore under his breath, "They want you to leave. So, fuck off."

"I don't think you understand, sir. We know each other." They protested.

Mike's gaze grew into something stormy, "Leave. Or I'm calling the rest of security." As soon as your follower squirmed out of his grip, Mike walked over and shielded you away. They apologized, making up a silly excuse as to why they were holding on to you. Mike didn't buy it and snapped again. You were left alone, drowning in relief.

"Are you okay? Look at me." Mike quickly discarded his hard expression, his eyes were already calm with longing. "They didn't hurt you right? I'll find them, I have good memory, I-" he was holding you. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"it's okay. It's okay. Mike, I'm fine." You answered. "You protected me, and that's all I can ask for."

He was still worried, so he felt the need to pull you aside, talking to another floor just in case. Mike released a heavy exhale, forbidding himself to let go of your hand. "I can give you a ride home,"

"You don't have to."

"I can pay for a ride,"

"Mike."

"You can stay near me too, I don't-"

"Michael." Your tone hardened. Mike's attention veered towards you once again. "You don't need to worry." Your were hands softly wrapped around his, "I'll be okay as long as you're here."

"Okay." Mike's demeanor relaxed at the sight of you. "Just . . . tell me when someone is wrong. I don't want you to get hurt."

"You got it." It felt strangely intimate. You had never been so close with him. You did have a habit of shielding away your hardships, but now, it felt wrong to hold it away. Especially from Mike. "It won't happen ever again."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

[sighed-the-snake]

I am listening to I'm Afraid of Americans by David Bowie, and one of the lyrics gave me an idea:

God is an American.

And so is Warlock.

In Good Omens, there are the three boys: Adam, Warlock, And Greasy Johnson.

Crowley and Aziraphale think they are raising the antichrist, but there has been a switcheroo: The antichrist is with a normal family, Warlock is raised under occult influences, and Greasy is the spare who grows up having a normal life alongside Adam.

There is some evidence that Greasy Johnson is the Messiah. (thanks to @thesherrinfordfacility for the great meta!)

But, I started thinking about the ways Neil and Terry subvert our expectations, and God's sense of humor in Good Omens, and a thought struck me:

What if Warlock is the Messiah?

Think about it. Greasy Johnson is connected to fish, like Jesus, sure. But also like a red herring. His purpose in the story is to be a bit of a mystery, a distraction from what's staring us in the face.

What if Aziraphale and Crowley were raising exactly the correct child who needed their influence? It just wasn't the antichrist. It was the Messiah.

Kindle page 62:

Warlock now found himself being educated by two tutors. Mr. Harrison taught him about Attila the Hun, Vlad Drakul, and the Darkness Intrinsicate in the Human Spirit. He tried to teach Warlock how to make rabble-rousing political speeches to sway the hearts and minds of multitudes.

Mr. Cortese taught him about Florence Nightingale,* Abraham Lincoln, and the appreciation of art. He tried to teach him about free will, self-denial, and Doing unto Others as You Would Wish Them to Do to You.

Warlock was exposed at a young age to the pain and darkness in human hearts. He was taught by a demon who's very good at temptation (according to Aziraphale) how to sway the hearts and minds of humanity with his words.

He's taught by an angel about compassion, thinking for himself, and doing the right thing.

These are vital lessons if you're going to be the savior of mankind who needs to convince billions of humans to listen to you.

Names have power in this story. Adam Young is named after the very first human and ends up on the side of humanity.

Harriet Dowling looked at her baby and said, yep, this kid looks like a traitor.

Warlock has not yet lived up to his name. What institution is branding him a traitor? Who is he betraying? What oath is he breaking? What responsibility is he refusing?

Could it be that Heaven shows up to tell him he's Jesus reborn and he has a destiny and Warlock firmly gives them a double-dose of middle fingers?

If Adam the Antichrist is a sweet kid so influenced by humanity that he goes against his nature to save them, is Warlock the Messiah going to be such an insufferable rich kid bratty politician's child that he'll refuse to pass judgement on a single soul because no one tells him what to do? Is he going to use his influence to harness humanity against Heaven and Hell? He's already had a demon for a nanny and grew up with an angel in his garden; he's not afraid of occult forces. Occult forces wiped his bum and told him to love slugs.

Some fun implications here. Jesus being American feels very Terry.

[neonmetro]

KALYPTOOOOGSGDHEHSJDHRJSJFJYRHDJD

Wow.....kalypto......what a woma- *Gets hit by ongoing traffic*

Hey guys, so I know a lot of these characters make me look insane but I promise I am very normal ( totally ). It's just that......kalypto is just kalypto okay.....

THEY MAKE ME WANT TO DO BACKFLIPS WHAT. they are so awesome......I would say I would like to know so much more about them, but I'm not sure if you gave additional info, LMAO

I would, however, like to give Uly appreciation 💕💕💕💕 I know I don't talk about this guy often, but it's just so awesome, man. I'm gonna give it headpats, trust 🥰🥰🥰

ANYWAYS, now that I got that tiny rant out the way.....HAVE A GOOD DAY *winks and throws a rose at you

- paris anon

HEH... yeah... kalypto does that to people... smiles and winks

I CAN'T REMEMBER IF I DID GIVE ADDITIONAL INFO EITHER. but here's a basic run down

the founding is more like a mafia family than a biological family, but even then the direct children between members of the founding are considered highly. unless you fuck up your proof of value. i'm thinking both circe and kalypto failed these tests because they were just considered not special enough (mind you, still talented on normal people standards, but below average for the founding.) and so were exiled to aeaea and ogygia respectively. they're still apart of the founding so they deserve nothing less than luxury, but just distant members as not to draw too much embarrassment to the main family.

circe was able to brute force her way through learning magic through desperation and becoming a magical girl on her own, but kalypto remained powerless. the only power that they Do Have, is specifically tied to ogygia (at least that's what they think).

they have no idea whether or not their power is limited to just ogygia, they did try leaving the island at one point and traveled around the nearby islands and met circe at one point outside of the founding's gaze and had a good time for awhile. they got to socialize, they got to drink and feast, but they started seeing signs of aging, scars, wearing and tearing at their skin. all their life they didn't have to worry about the implications of being mortal, they were a lesser deity and was a failure in that regard, but at least they weren't mortal. all the worst, people were after their head for their careless nature apparently breaking a few local laws. so! they decided to retire from fishing and go running back home to ogygia.

in ogygia, they're able to stay young forever. all their scars and wrinkles disappear, and they look barely a year older than ulysses despite being much older than him. and all life on ogygia remains as it were, growing what it needs to, cycling through some brief change, but ultimately remaining the same.

they haven't had human contact in quite some time, so frankly it was a miracle for them that someone washed up their shores just for them! just for them only, it's only proof of their status, and they can be happy together in a state of constant.

and honestly? ulysses shared that sentiment, and that's why it worked for awhile. it literally took a deus ex machina for him to regain the willpower to move on and not be entirely halted in his own self growth (ofc he did this for the most self sabotaging reasons but the point is he does have the willpower to move on he just needs to break his bad habits.)

i do think after ulysses left kalypto just is. in a constant state of wallowing. they really miss it. to the point of becoming suicidal. but also it isn't worth stopping the cycle and hurting themselves. it isn't a good time for them :/

they do genuinely wish for the best for ulysses, hell even penelope, but what they believe is that they're the best ulysses can do now. they're as good as they get without being a straight up god, and ulysses shouldn't be chasing after a woman who couldn't even compare to kalypto. (kalypto is. incredibly insecure, even if they don't think they are. they constantly compare how much better they are against penelope and even circe and they don't realize how alone they are)

some notes for them...

i really like their flowers in their hair though... originally they had such a diff design all bc i was afraid to make them blonde?????? (brother ulysses is blonde idk what the problem here was) but also the color palette was giving me difficulty... but making them a orange was a good choice. imo

originally they were supposed to be a doctor-like character, but if anything they're more of a nurse than a doctor... the glasses were to give them more interest bc originally they didn't have the flowers? but now i just think they're charming so they get to keep them...

i do want to redesign their outfit again so ... back in the designing trenches i go

for some reason i really associate them with the sun even though they're a child of atlas not helios….????? but whatever close enough go my titan children.

obv i'm taking my own liberties w/ kalypto, i really do think they're interesting and i wish there was more done with them (i have to specify kalypto did not sa uly in novaturi)

[katyspersonal]

I am doing something awful

OKAY SO yeah, Dark Souls 1 doesn't use typical color sliders for character creation, so these colors are brought from just zooming screenshots in very much! Black names are canon, grey are "easy to conclude" ones, blue ones are those I had to use my imagination for! This is just a self-reference that I will probably keep editting anyways. I tried to focus on DS1 characters specifically but some characters only introduced in DS2 and DS3 were too hard to exclude for lore reasons!

Some notes:

- Nito is (was) a Grey Giant, we know he is a Giant from his size, his coffin's size and place in the Tomb of the Giants, but proportions match Grey Giants in my opinion! Would also make sense if he was one of the "latest" ones since he evolved enough to be the first to die! Ariamis is a Grey Giant too!

- Like I said, I need to know for sure whether the screenshot I found for Ciaran is legit or fanmade, so just put a pin on that. Same for Darkmoon Soldiers who waded Sen's Fortress only to join Gwyndolin's forces; they seem to have appearances but I never saw screenshot of their mug and hair, nor I know whether they just use placeholder data! Just need to wait for a good look!

- Where coloration is halved I used the 'before'(above) and 'after'(below) colorations as some characters changed significantly from their "real" look! With some characters I forgot tho

- Chester is from Yharnam, he has profound beasthood mutation and strangely yellow and red eye same as what his mask reflects (normally BB beasts have either yellow or red eyes)

- Andre's heterochromia is based off this closeup:

- Nito's (EX) wife, Fina and Flann are same 'type' of Gods who have much weirder features compared to very average 'just large human' Gods! So Nito's Wife, Goddess of Water, has fish scales and horns rather than hair, Fina's skin is literally golden with estus flask liquid-like "blood" showing through transparent spots in some places and literal flowers for eyes and Flann has feathers (you know, like phoenix)!

- I feel like despite there being two Knight Lady NPCs in Forest Guardians, it is safer to assume this is just one character! They are absolutely identical in all except for their idle pose, they both do not respawn, but Japanese book only refers to one character Americus! No other Guardian repeats, but everyone is referred to except for this "second" Knight, but if they were twins or so, would not the second one be mention too....? So I decided it is one character, that is """doubled""" only to make your playing more painful and not out of lore implication!

- I decided that Velka's white hands were not glowed hands but just her skin! Although Gods are creatures of Light, she is associated with the Dark, and I think that is not a natural feature but something she assumed! What was natural though, is being 'night' light (moon and stars) rather than 'day' light (sun and fire)! Ironically, just like Gwyndolin, considering he later does the function in Anore Londo that she used to do!

- I assumed that Pinwheel and other acolytes of Nito have blue skin, like Fenito and Leydia Witches (and Navlaan I guess, that fits since real one was a Necromancer)! Caitha is also literally his daughter, so there is that too.

[rainbowolfe]

Discovery: Laplace

"Below these waves lurk some of the hardest to catch beasts that ever lived, and I've been trying for years."

I highlight beast because that is their word for "human" or "person". If the Fisherman was talking about non-sentient animals, he'd use the term "critter".

I suspect he's talking about the beast as much as he's talking about the talisman. The Octopus is someone intended for non-mortals. The Crab is a gambler the Fisherman cheated (hooked). He thought they were wealthier/more valuable than they actually were (a whale). The Lobster is good. Very good. As promised. And the ever-elusive squid is wonderful, but of no use to him.

The Octopus sounds like it's describing Mystic Seller, ngl. But I digress. What I know for sure though, is that the crab is Laplace. The great gambler. Aka, the greatest of gamblers.

"Sharp claw, strong shell" "A wee nipper".

Is Laplace a literal crab? Maybe. If he didn't start life as a crab, he certainly ended his life as one. A penny-pincher, grumpy, and kinda mean. Also a bottomfeeder.

The first line feels like it's referencing Kudaai's Fingernail (Vicious claw, wickedly sharp), which happens to be inside a giant fish (a great beastie). That oozes ichor from it's mouth. There would be the implication that Laplace is who took this from Kudaai, but also that Laplace lost his "shell", which made him wicked.

Shell here could be referring to mental state. Someone who hasn't 'come out of their shell' yet, for one reason or another. Someone who hides or his a homebody. Or it's referring to his home/place of origin. A place known for it's strength, being (seemingly) impenetrable, etc.

However, if he is a beast with a literal shell, it would make him a candidate for what the Godly Gauntlets are made out of. (The last remnant of divine armor, long lost). Or he was known for wearing it lol

The second line is suggesting that Laplace is a small (in stature) child who serves as a helper (usually for a merchant). Perhaps not a minor, but an Infant God. If he's meant to connect to a merchant of note, it means he was a helper of either Clauneck, Kudaai, Chemach, or Mystic Seller. His associated colors is light blue, his eye (or Crown) color is orange and red.

Orange and red is a very notable color combo. More theories and notes on that here, here, and here.

While there is a crab enemy, it's actually, weirdly, shaped like the squid. They both have arrow/mushroom/penis shaped heads. So. That means something for the squid, we'll leave whatever it is for another time.

The crab is shaped like the scorpion enemy. Which is less a "scorpion", and more an ear wig or something else deeper into the Arthopoda Class. These things are made in the image of Hauras, which actually is a fucked up scorpion. And Hauras himself is (re)made in a former God's image. Which seems to be Laplace, associating the deity with Silk Cradle and Shamura.

oh no I haven't actually written about this before. Basically, its a worse version of the Demon Summoner. Some sort of ritual is being performed that makes them all big and icky and full of ichor. Instead of turning back to normal once they're no longer possessed, their physical form is permanently changed. The OniPress comic shows this in more detail. It's sort of like being sacrificed, but you come back as something else.

The mythological demon Hauras (also spelled Flauros) is a liar and trickster by nature, but when contained within a magic triangle, he will give true answers about everything. The past, future, himself, creation itself, even other fallen angels like himself. He has 20 squads of demons under him. Coincidentally, his Blessed Relic is a 20-sided die. 👀

You may have heard of something called "Laplace's Demon". A theoretical entity pondered by French philosopher Pierre-Simon Laplace. I'm simplifying it greatly, so check out the link for the full text.

The present is the result of the past and the cause of the future. There is an intellect that knows of all forces that set nature in motion and knows of where all things that created Nature. If this intellect is also capable of analyzing that information, it can know the designs of all—from the biggest planets to the tiniest atoms. This intellect would therefore know everything. The future and the past would be no different from the present it lives in.

Laplace never calls it a demon, that's a name the intellect was given by others later on. Probably because the ability to know the future is something associated with the demons and spirits summoned by necromancers.

So Laplace's Dice (and his coin) are that demon. Which means the 'demon' is embodied in Clauneck—who credits this knowledge to the Fates. And funnily, the above theory is something that Clauneck explicitly believes.

"Does fate grow as the flowers do, or is it built by mortal hand?" "In the shaping of all things did the First distill all there was, will be known into mortal symbol for mortal understanding. Everlasting is my duty, Keeper of these gifts, to stand at the juncture of Fate and Chance; for in the final breath of the final First it was decreed that we shall endure 'til the sun's final setting, when the cards show only darkness for eternity and beyond."

While shaping the world (all things), the First Gods extracted the information of the past (all there was) and the present (all there will be) into symbols that mortals could understand. The cards. Clauneck's also telling us his domain. He's the God of Luck, the intersection of what's possible and what's been willed by an outside power. Usually the Fates, but other Gods are apart of it too.

Didn't think I'd take a detour into a theory about Clauneck, but here we are. Onto what we know for sure about Laplace:

He has two relics, a die and a coin. The former has Blessed and Damned variants.

Laplace's Dice - Worn on each side, roll with care. 50% chance to heal a heart or to gain a Spirit Heart.

Damned Laplace's Dice - Let the river of chance flow smooth. 50% chance to gain a Diseased Heart or deal damage to all enemies.

Blessed Laplace's Dice - What did the great gambler lose? 50% chance to become invincible for 10 sec. or to gain a Blue Heart.

Laplace's Coin - Payment to ferry the dead. [Corrupted Relic] 50% chance to spawn an undead Follower or to summon an enemy.

His iconography includes dice, the six die faces, Follower and Cultist skulls, chance, and polychrome effects. Despite his association with the six-sided die, the odds on his relics are always 50-50. Though, if you combine all the possibilities (of just the dice) you get six options total—one for each face. And four other Gods with shared abilities.

Shamura, Ala, Clauneck, the Anchorite, and the user of the Vampiric Weapons (or Hathor, if they're different). If you include the Coin (which I suspect is the reason why the odds are always 50-50), that adds Kallamar and maybe Warracka's Slave depending on some semantics.

Which totals either 8 or 9 when you include Laplace. Which is the amount of tentacles on Laplace's coin (8) or the amount of "rays" on certain variations of the Sun symbol (9).

But the coin and the dice are different. Like they're related, but they're different points in history. The Coin represents the corruption of Laplace. The dice is the normal remnants of his powers. The Coin might not even belong to Laplace Relic-wise. As in, his Coin; not his Relic. Many of these things are lost items, after all. (Just cause you lost something doesn't mean its not yours anymore)

The imagery on his dice suggest he was a God of Death, or otherwise a God of the Underworld. The golden "body" paired with three eyes is something seen on skulls that resemble Narinder's. So if not signifying he's a Death God, it signifies ancestry. It also suggests he has a cracked skull and is missing an eye. Maybe two eyes, the "scar" on three is different from the "scar" on one. Oh, and his eyes are pink (salmon, rlly) and orange. (Though when Damned and Blessed, his eye color is red).

Since each die face seems to correlate to an ability (and God), Blessed Laplace had 20 abilities/Gods at his disposal. That is pretty blessed. I also suspect this and other yellow relics are, well, yellow, is because the former deity they're attached to was burned to death. Or presently is burning in some way.

Phew. So, that's Laplace. A likely candidate for the Fleece of the Hobbled Heels. (Roll with care.) As for the other three...

The Lobster "For the wealthy or well-behaved." "A big nipper."

Like Laplace, they would've served as a helper for a merchant. Instead this time, they're a big 'child'. So a notably large Infant God who associates themselves with those that are either wealthy or obedient. They're known for being "very good", whatever that means. Their eye/Crown color is magenta, but they're associated with blue.

The Squid "A kraken in miniature." "It has eight wiggling tendrils."

Wonderful, but useless. And elusive to boot. They're a small copy (or offspring) of someone else. Either Turua, the Fungus God and sinker of ships, or the Octopus below. I don't think this is Kallamar, but certainly has something to do with the tentacle he has in Purgatory. I... don't know what the eight tendrils are referencing. Their eye/Crown color is cyan and their associated color is dark blue.

The Octopus "This creature almost seems intelligent..." "It has eight wiggling legs."

These eight legs, however, are definitely referencing the many-legged creature wrapped in web. If not that one, then the pirate with many legs spoken about in Midas' Cave. Useful/desirable to immortal beings, and no one else. They're uncharacteristically smart. More accurately, they're something that seems to be sentient when others of their species are not. The funky eyes would suggest they're maybe a demon or a cat or some other sort of predator. Their eye/Crown color is green and they're associated with yellow.

And that's it! I have no strong leads on who these three could be, so no long essay for them. I'll just keep a tab on them, I guess.

[thehill-rpg]

Episode 2: Whispers on The Hill Part: 1/??

The quiet shuffle of bare feet on the gravel courtyard fills the air, accompanied by the faint squeak of a rusty pool gate reluctantly opening. With a pair of composed steps, a slender figure, tall yet delicate, makes her way towards an ageing pool chair. As she reclines on its worn surface, the chair emits a soft groan of protest, bearing witness to both its own well-worn years and the age of its current resting place: Palm’s Motor Hotel. Donning a pair of Ray Bans, she settles in, clad in a casual ensemble of a Washington Nationals' tank top and a worn pair of denim short shorts. In her hand, she opens a well-read copy of Cosmo, its pages gently fluttering in the breeze. Tucked between them is a torn clipping from yesterday’s issue of The Hill, resting over an article titled ‘The Secret to Finding Your Soulmate: Date Your Alter Ego.’ A good article, offering the kind of advice you could only get out of a drunk best friend, yet not the one currently capturing her attention.

Chelsea Dalton reclines beside a pool that seems questionably operational (was that the smell of an impending bacteria infection?), her gaze fixed on the familiar words. She reads it again, for what feels like the hundredth time, each word etched into her memory. She knows every line by heart. It’s beautiful.

It’s also months of dedication, collaboration, and hopefully, justice. Sure, it’s a departure from her usual flair, and while, yes, she’d normally sell her soul for this kind of traffic on her blog, she knew there was no way her posting this story would get it the attention it deserved. Hence, her email to Violet Shard, almost three months ago. She’d been hesitant at first. Sure, she was a fan, but this was something that needed to be handled with care. She was too close to her own source. She couldn’t risk being named. However, Violet had assured her of anonymity and a series of follow-ups that wouldn’t brush any pertinent details under the proverbial rug of Washington D.C. political justice. That's why she had agreed, and why she now found herself just outside the District, technically in Maryland, waiting for said blonde journalist. 

Where was she?

As she waited for Violet’s late arrival (had her trusty Saab finally coughed its last puff of exhaust?), she let her thoughts drift over to Gray, and the party she would have been at if the news she’d just leaked to The Hill, hadn’t implicated his father. She’d probably have been in some uncomfortable sundress right now, watching as Gray loosened a tie, only for his mother to promptly tighten it again, while she discreetly passed another crab puff to Mac. Of course, she hated every second of it, but even without her mom’s urging, she hadn’t missed one since she’d moved in next door to his family at six. What could she say? She had a thing for fish paste covered Hors d'Oeuvres. And tortured artists… She’d let the last one remain unsaid, stubbornly resisting even her subconscious attempts to divert her down that worn-out, oh so familiar road. Not today, Bucko! 

Just as she was attempting to shift her focus, fate intervened with the unceremonious thud of a bottle of sunscreen hitting her thigh, yanking her back to the realm of the living—or, more accurately, a realm that didn't revolve around pining over her best-friend of twenty-seven years. “Slip, slop, slap…” She glared over her glasses at a man holding a faded beach towel and a copy of The Hill. 

While quick judgments were usually her forte, she decided to withhold hers until he extended his hands to offer assistance. She leaned towards labelling him as the "concerned dad" type rather than a creepy motel lifer. "Uh, thanks, but— Is that the latest copy of The Hill?" She hadn’t been able to pick up a copy before she’d left her house in order to get here in time and she was keen to see how Violet had followed up. “Sure, kiddo. It’s yours.” She dropped her guard, leaning over to take the paper from his outstretched hand, “Are you moving in?” She’d have answered if the headline story hadn’t caught her attention. Violet Shard, facing charges of defamation and harassment, for her latest story on Congressman Whitman and Harris. “Uh, sorry, do you mind if I–” She was already up, picking up her copy of cosmo and hurrying out of the pool area and back towards her day room and her burner. FUCK. Voicemail. “Violet, call me. I— What can I do?” 

Well, she knew one thing she could do…  

She hastily opened her laptop, disregarding the unread emails clamouring for her attention with their requests for her usual freelance work. Instead, she navigated to her blog and swiftly crafted a new post.

Ms. Whisper here, emerging from the shadows with a scoop hotter than the Capitol's political inferno. It appears our esteemed journalist, Violet Shard, finds herself in the clutches of controversy. But this isn't your run-of-the-mill scandal, my darlings—oh no, it's a tale of truth-telling and the ruthless consequences that follow. Violet dared to shine a light on the dark dealings of Congressman Whitlock and Harris, revealing their insidious involvement in the war-torn realm of Matamba. Yet, instead of accolades, she's met with handcuffs and accusations of defamation and harassment. But fear not, dear readers, for Ms. Whisper is always on the case, ready to peel back the layers of deception and hold the powerful to account. In this cutthroat world of political intrigue, even the bravest truth-seekers like Violet Shard aren't safe from the claws of injustice. So, keep your ears to the ground and your eyes peeled, because when it comes to unravelling the truth, there's no hiding from the relentless pursuit of Ms. Whisper. #StandWithViolet

Her phone buzzed—an SOS. She shot a text back that she’d be there soon. Though even with her foot planted to the floor of her beemer she knew she’d never break an hour. Hastily rummaging through her overnight bag, she retrieved a somewhat acceptable dress (she didn’t own many); though the party might've been cancelled, she was certain Gray's mom wouldn't want the reminder. Hastily, she made her way over to the shower, and tried her best to find the password to get the hot water working longer than two seconds.

She did her best to keep her hair from getting wet, as she washed her nervous sweat from under her armpits. Chelsea hadn't seen this coming without a fight, but nabbing a journalist? This wasn't just a hiccup; it was the kind of move that had First Amendment lawyers rubbing their hands with glee.

She gave up trying to tune the shower into submission and let the cold water run down her back, as she wracked her brain for a way to assist Violet beyond mere page views. Nothing. Nothing.

When it came down to taking action, what good was being Ms. Whisper if all she had in her arsenal were a sharp tongue and a quick wit? That certainly didn't grant innocent journalists a Get Out of Jail Free card, did it?

After a quick drying session (as evidenced by her dress clinging to her back and making it a challenge to slide down over her thighs), Chelsea grappled with her wayward curls, victims of the fierce heat akin to the Battle of Waterloo. With her belongings in tow, she checked out of the motel, conceding that, for the time being, there was little she could do for Violet. As for Gray, a sense of obligation stirred within her to mitigate the unintended turmoil she had caused him. Nonetheless, she refrained from assuming full culpability, acknowledging that the root of this mess lay primarily with his father. All she’d done was overhear a phone call, sneak into his office at night, and make a few dozen or so copies of a report that she only wished now had more than just Congressman Harris’ name to it.

Pulling up to Gray’s house, adjacent to her own, Chelsea switched off the ignition and discreetly covered her overnight bag with one of Mac’s car seat covers in the backseat before stepping out and making her way inside. The atmosphere was sullen, with white chairs being shuffled in and out from the patio to a van parked out front. From a distance, Chelsea observed Nora overseeing the operation with an overflowing wine glass in hand. She couldn't shake the feeling of responsibility for the sombre mood, knowing she had played a part in it, at least partially.

Following the faint strumming of a bass, Chelsea ascended the stairs, purposefully bypassing Mr. Whitlock’s study. She had been instructed to call him Brody, but it just didn't sit right with her. Instead, she made her way down to Gray’s room at the end of the second floor. Her fingers brushed against the wooden door as she announced herself before slipping inside.

"So, on a scale from six-pack therapy to a spa retreat in the German highlands, how concerned should I be about you?" She offered a tentative smile. However, the instant she caught the strains of "Darn The Dream" by Ron Carter, being plucked, she realised she was entering yodelling territory.

[burning-sol]

u know whats. way ive treated gillion gender and sex in past not too hot. vibe checked self, not a good look.

current status: referring to tritons as explicitly intersex (i hope that term is okay, please correct me if not) as i should have from the beginning because that's what i meant. triton sex is a pretty mixed bag but based on multiple factors, you have "males" and "females" but a majority of tritons whose sex will shift in minor or major ways over the course of their life. ive never drawn too wide a variety of tritons (because there aren't that many as of now) but i do plan to make different family trees of triton be quite unique from each other, so that'd probably imply there's definitely inconsistencies across the board even considering what is normal for tritons. so gillion being an oddball could still exist but all in a very relative to stuff around him kind of way.

anyhow, gillion falls under the category of "this fish keeps changing sex everytime you look away from him for 2 seconds" btw. id probably make it function like ranma 1/2 for no other reason than i think its hilarious. put the fish in cold water for girl mode, put him in hot water for boy mode. i still agree that gillion WOULD refer to himself as genderfluid, but only IF the subject matter got brought up, because the standards of sex and gender are evidently very different between the undersea and oversea. i struggle to imagine that the triton language would have clear terms for girls and boys when that's not something that is important to the culture, so even binary pronouns are beyond the typical scope. gillion sort of just got assigned he/him and it stuck for him, and im sure there's some darker implications there relating to how he was raised and what he has internalised from being exposed to the oversea (gender is very complex for gillion tidestrider).

anyways, another important note is that edyn is a girl who likes being girl and is referred to by girl. she went to the oversea and was like "wow!! this girl mode thing is great!!!" so now she's a girl. always. and i have yet to decide on the gender for the old man but i just know he probably changed pronouns every other day. just looks at em. does that look like someone who won't walk up to you and say "my pronouns are now bubbles" like no fucking way, don't be ridiculous.

so yeah sorry for being ignorant and stuff, i hope these adjustments are clear and appropriate. if not, you can just kill me instantly. i was going to just quietly change stuff but i knew that was just me trying to avoid the shame(tm), and that its probably better im open about when im wrong to be some sort of good example.

[apocalypsewriters]

Not My Magical Destiny part 4

Intro <<previous (part 3) next (part 5)>>

Eager as always, Gabe gets a brilliant idea: bring Kodi along for a typical adventure. Nothing will go wrong, right? How will Kodi cope? Surely they'll be fine. Won't they?

Closing the register on a customer’s order, I heard my phone ring. Fishing it out of my pocket, a chill ran down my spine when I saw it was Gabe. His contact photo smiled at me from the summer after our senior year, wearing an unfortunate tan in the shape of aviator sunglasses. I looked around the bakery. The corners of the walls were still black with smoke since I couldn’t reach them to clean and the owner couldn’t afford to replace them. The tables were refurbished and largely empty of patrons. Once I determined there was no one needing my attention, I picked up. 

“I need your help.” Gabe’s voice was tinny over the line, something I wasn’t used to hearing. We never called each other – it started as a point of nervousness when we first got phones and continued out of principle. I was good at answering the phone now, at least, after helping my dad at his therapy office and taking orders at the bakery.

My heart raced at the implications. I hoped the distortion over the phone would disguise my voice shaking. “What with?”

“The thing” – Gabe hesitated – “I am not allowed to talk about where people can listen in on.”

If my heart was cantering before, it was galloping now. I could barely deal with the attack on the bakery last month, so the thought of being directly involved, of being asked to be part of the living nightmare that was Gabe’s life nearly paralyzed me. I stammered out, “Are you sure I’m the right person for this job?”

“You can hang back!” said Gabe, rushing to reassure me. “I’ll tell you more about the… situation when you get out here.”

“I’m working!”

“Please? For me?”

Gabriel never gave up when he made a plan. And I never bailed on him.

“Fine. I’ll be out in ten.”

“Great! Thank you, Kodi.” It was worth agreeing just to hear the relief in his voice. “Meet us at the edge of town.” He hung up.

“Well that wasn’t ominous or creepy at all,” I muttered to myself.

It didn’t take long to take stock of the shop. I took the generous ten minutes I had given myself to straighten the display of cookie cats, ferret eclairs, and paw-shaped tarts. A sickly sweet stickiness always lingered on my hands whenever I did this, so I normally saved it for the end of the day. Still, no one was as meticulous as I was at Purebread Pastries, so if I was calling my shift in early I had to do it now.

Satisfied with my work, I called out, “Hey, boss? I have a family emergency. Can I go?”

Years of reliable work and covering shifts made the answer easy. With the boss’s approval, I hung up my apron. I ran my thumb over Gabe’s embroidery. It was naive and pointless to wish for that time when it was simpler, safer. It didn’t stop me from wanting a magic-free world.

As I walked to the meeting place, I pondered Gabriel’s words. He wouldn’t put me in danger he couldn’t protect me from. Staying in that world couldn’t have changed him too much from the boy I had grown up with, could it? We had chosen names together, had discovered ourselves together, laughed, cried, screamed together. The boy I knew wasn’t lost, right?

Doubt grew in my mind when I passed the last row of houses. The bags under Gabe’s eyes were dark and prominent, worse than I had ever seen before, and I had helped him through a week without sleep. Despite this, there was a fire in his eyes, vengeful and fierce. It scared me. He had recovered the bulk he had when he reappeared in the bakery what felt like a lifetime ago. Standing tall, his stance was stiff and fragile, filling out a plain grey shirt I had never seen before. A chill ran down my spine, though no wind stirred the sparse trees.

It didn’t help that Envy hovered by his shoulder, resentful and brooding. She had cleaned up since the last time I’d seen her, which made sense. Her faded green sweater vest had holes worn through it, but at least there were no scorch marks this time. She was gripping her biceps, arms crossed, and tapping her fingers impatiently. 

As soon as Gabe caught sight of me, his shoulders released from where they had tensed around his ears. 

“Kodi!” he called. The flannel he wore around his waist, my flannel, flapped as he skipped towards me. He gathered me in a two-second hug. “Thank you, thank you, for coming. I knew you would.”

“Pri- Gabriel. The plan?” prompted Envy. She already looked sick of our affection. 

“Right!” Gabe said, steamrolling ahead as usual. He shoved a handful of throwing stars into my hands. Their reflectiveness blinded me. “Take these.”

“What am I supposed to do with them?” I asked, looking at them closer while holding them like they’d bite me. If they had been used before, they had been cleaned well. 

“You play ultimate frisbee.”

“Played. It’s been a year. I can’t afford to anymore, remember?”

“Still,” Gabe insisted. “You’re equipped, so let’s move!”

As always, I followed Gabriel. “You still haven’t explained anything,” I said, stumbling on a crack in the ground. 

Envy tried to shepherd me through an arch formed by two trees off of the path, but I stood firm. Oblivious and headstrong, Gabe was striding ahead.

“Gabriel,” I said. I still knew the tone to make him stop in his tracks – in that he hadn’t changed. “Tell me what is going on or I’m leaving. I love you, but this is getting to be too much.”

The eagerness in Gabe’s expression crumbled a little. He fiddled with the zippers littering his jacket as he answered, “There’s information we need from one of Diligence’s stashes. The others are too busy with their duties to help, and we need someone to watch our flank as Envy and I break in. We’re supposed to be diplomatic but we already know what Diligence’s answer will be and we don’t have time to waste.”

I could already feel my resolve weakening. “Okay. This won’t be as… intense as the battle you took to the bakery, will it? Because I won’t be able to handle it.”

Gabe shook his head vigorously, safety pin earrings jingling. He was quick to affirm, saying, “Nope! Envy and I are professionals at this, so you shouldn’t have to step in. It’ll be over before you know it. We just need a little bit of backup for Envy’s peace of mind.”

Going off of Envy’s expression, he should not have said that in front of me. Envy’s glare could have melted steel. Her hands twitched irritably where they rested on daggers at her belt.

“So I won’t have to use these?” I asked, barely wiggling the throwing stars.

“I promise you won’t have to do anything but hold them,” said Gabe, tugging me forward. “They’re for my peace of mind.”

Finally satisfied, at least for the time being, I stepped through the trees. Gabe’s hand holding mine was the only thing that stayed consistent, warm and solid. I almost fell as the world shifted under my feet. The air was nauseatingly fresh, cool in the shade of evergreens. My stomach lurched as I tried to find my bearings again.

I watched Gabe’s shoulders drop and set firm; he seemed more comfortable out here, more driven. His steps made no noise as he led me towards the gate he sought to get through. It was situated in a clearing with two figures at the entrance. They were dressed from head to toe in silver plate mail and each held an erect spear. There was no movement as the world seemed to hold its breath.

Realizing we were missing one of our party, I scanned the area for Envy and nearly jumped out of my skin. She had made it around to the other side of the glade and was raising her hands. Light danced between them in a web, growing and strengthening in brightness. Spiderlike, she struck. Her net flew through the air and wrapped around one of the guards. They let out a wheeze and flew backward with the momentum of Envy’s pull. The other guard snapped forward into a defensive stance. Gabe took this as his signal to move. 

He pushed me behind a tree, which I was grateful for. Flitting forward, a purple orb of light gathered in his open hand. He lobbed it towards the second guard. It landed on their face and their hands immediately went to where their eyes were. Or at least, where I hoped they were. 

The battle was almost beautiful in its choreography. Envy incapacitated their opponents, encasing them in woven light and pulling them out of commission. Not a single cast came close to hitting Gabe. He struck with the purple blades I had seen in the bakery. He aimed for gaps in the armor; while not every strike was successful, each one knocked the fighters off balance. I called out as a desperate foot snaked out to try and trip Gabe. The guards barely stood a chance. Even as a routine patrol of two others joined the fray, at my shout Envy and Gabe took them out systematically, easily. One of them landed a lucky hit on Gabe, nicking his forearm with one of the shattered spears. They only had time to let out a single cry. 

The battle was over in two minutes. Gabe looked alive, catching his breath and looking over at me, puppy-like. I smiled my approval, weakly. Practically bouncing from my reaction, Gabe joined Envy in dragging the bodies aside. My insides writhed a little at the carnage, no matter how brief it was. They had just returned to pick up a second guard when the knot in my stomach dropped.

The guard’s shout had alerted someone beyond the gates. They were approaching, armor blinding, from around the corner. Raising their spear to strike, aiming for Gabriel, I knew he wouldn’t have time to react to my warning. Instinctively, I drew a throwing star. Though I was rusty having not handled a frisbee in high stakes for a year, the star felt familiar in my hand. I had never thrown at a person without the intent for them to catch it. I aimed high just in case my muscle memory had faded.

The throwing star soared across the clearing. It was lightning fast, faster than any frisbee I had thrown. It flashed in the sun, glinting directly into my eyes. I swore I could see the air fracturing in its path. It hit before the guard’s arm reached its apex. 

It landed in their neck.

The clearing, the world, went silent. Blackness encroached on my vision. It crept in from the edges and pulsed in the center. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t hear anything but my thundering heart. My breathing quickened.

Vaguely, I was aware of Gabriel springing to his feet at the sound of the guard collapsing. My head swam from a lack of oxygen, a lack of explanation for what had just happened, for what I had just done. I felt the ground beneath me vibrate a little with Gabe’s approach.

I lost my tentative grip on the world before he reached me.

Intro <<previous (part 3) next (part 5)>>

[uncontrollablesphere]

Here’s a post I forgot about in my drafts for two years on Blame! coelacanth semantics. Keep in mind I haven’t read blame since then so I’m not sure how accurate some of the details are

vvvvvvvv

Follow up to my coelacanth metaphor post: some literal implications of Dhomochevsky having a pet coelacanth

I’m not super sure about the reliability of using it as a time marker, just because the coelacanth is so mysterious, but so are Dhomo and Iko. When those two are first created as provisional safeguards, the fish is already there, flopping on the floor. At the time Blame! was written, coelacanths were thought to live for around 50 years, which is kind of a lot for fish, but not so much for humans (and especially not for safeguards). But coelacanths aren’t born five feet long. That coelacanth is already adult size.

Unless the coelacanth is some kind of silicone coelacanth (silicanth?), this would limit Dhomo and Iko’s careers as provisional safeguards to less than 50 years (or 100, if we take into account modern coelacanth research that Nihei didn’t have access to). The reason I’m kind of iffy about this is just that the coelacanth’s existence this high above “ground level” (when we don’t even know the state of the oceans, and coelacanths usually live far below surface level) is super suspect, and I can’t rule out that it’s not a normal fish.

Who put it there? Did it belong to a former resident of the unofficial stratum and the silicone life attack(s) destroyed its tank, where Dhomo and Iko just happened to get deployed? Was it created along with them for some reason? Coelacanth safeguard?

I had some other thoughts about what it might represent but they flew out of my head as I was typing this. Like other than the individual lifespan of coelacanths, we know that they have existed for about 400 million years. It’s really interesting that this is one of the few nonhuman animals we see in blame. Iirc, we only see bugs, a dog, and a coelacanth. Bugs are known for being resilient and thriving in urban environments*, while dogs have evolved alongside humans and will continue to as long as we value them as companions and/or working partners.

But coelacanths don’t really make sense in this environment at all. They’re naturally found in deep underwater caves, and are poorly suited to living in tanks (growing up to 6 and a half feet). In a megastructure that reaches so high up as to consume neighboring planets, it seems like maintaining a tank for just one coelacanth would be a huge challenge, just in terms of filling it with water, let alone a tank with multiple coelacanths in order to have them breed and keep the species going. (I assume people in upper strata collect rainwater, as pumping water from ground level or below doesn’t seem feasible. And even if they do pump water from below…all for some fish?)

It would be one thing if coelacanths were farmed as a food source, but that’s not really feasible either, as coelacanths take a really long time to reach sexual maturity, have 5 year long gestation periods, and are difficult for people to digest.

Humans have been around a long time in the Blame! universe…Noise adds at least 3000 years to our current 300,000. But in evolutionary time, that’s still infinitesimally small. That’s nothing to the coelacanth’s 400 million. When you juxtapose a living fossil with a relatively young species such as humans, there’s a couple different directions that could take

*I now know this is literally not true, applies to SOME bugs only, many bugs are in fact declining due to habitat loss from urban sprawl + monoculture farmland. Anyways

[juicywritinghoard]

Setting Prompts

A. Something about this place screams “probably not haunted but don’t stick around to find out”. 

B. Thank you for taking me to the aquarium for my birthday. I am gonna be a freak in the gift shop about it.

C. Nothing at this carnival is going to cheer me up so don’t even try. Except…

D. You cannot keep making secret agent music with your mouth if you don’t want to get us arrested. I can fill golf course holes with cement without you.

E. Admittedly this was a bad place for a picnic, but on the other hand, I’m having a great time and no regrets. 

F. Oh god, oh Jesus, what is that?? Oh, just a bunny. OH NO OH HELP WHAT IS THAT-

G. This real estate is giving mad Hansel and Gretel vibes rn and I will lick the walls if no one stops me?

H. Okay, while they do actual serious errands, our goal is to find a collection of objects under fifty dollars that will definitely, absolutely implicate us in a premeditated murder. And…break!

I. Nothing says “let’s get ice cream” like baseball sized hail. 

J. If you don’t want to get in trouble for playing hide and seek in the fancy department store, you gotta hide better, duh.

K. I’m sorry I spilled nacho cheese in the jewelry store. It might happen again.

L. I’m having a crisis in the craft store. Again.

M. No, I’m not going to sell you this fish. Please leave the store.

N. So it was just supposed to be a little funny ha-ha joke but we put [counts on fingers] like quadruple the appropriate amount of bubble bath in the fountain…

O. I refuse to have some kind of epiphany about this divine experience. I did not ask to be awake at dawn and I would not be awake at dawn if I had a choice about it.

P. So you know how you were like, no way is it possible to fill a pool with Jello? Well,

Q. No, sorry, I’ve been banned from the candy store. Yep. And the bookstore. Uhuh. I’m really sorry, I have also been banned from-

R. Call back later, I’m spending my life savings in the arcade. No, I promise I’m being so normal about it. This has nothing to do with my child enemy. No, no, I promise!

S. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with a little dumpster diving. Just be less stupid about it maybe?

T. I’m afraid of heights, is the problem? Which I was not aware of until I got up here. 

U. Oh man, I want to join their backyard barbeque so bad. Do you think I can pass for a cousin? Surely they don’t know all their cousins. Look at all the fun they’re having, oh man… 

V. I didn’t expect the world to end in the coffee shop, but here I am…

W. You keep asking why I’m wet and not how was the sea? Was the sea fun? Did you meet a mermaid and join a mermaid party and almost drown? No, I don’t want to talk about it now.

X. Admittedly my coworkers don’t suck, it’s just the job that’s cuckoo banana-nut-muffins bonkers insane. 

Y. Why do I feel like this place is so fancy, they’re gonna hand me a receipt for the air I breathed while I was here? 

Z. Hurry up and figure things out, before I get fired from a second morgue. Please?

[orchestrated-haunting]

Some College AU Headcannons

Diarmuid Ua Duibhne

A cultural anthropology major with a focus on what the knight archetype implies, and how its changes depending on the cultural implications.

Wore a face mask pre COVID-19 to cover his mole, and thanks to the pandemic it became more normalized for him to so.

He goes to parties if he knows one of his friends will be present, often playing drinking games with Fionn and Cu.

Flirts with his friends quite to the point outside observers can’t tell if it was platonic or romantic.

Cu Chuclainn

As irritating as it can be at times he enjoys being in veterinary school.

He fosters dogs and has had several foster fails. One of them being a small white fluffy dog that is a little bit crusty, (causing his friends to make jokes of him being a rich white mom who owns a yacht).

Tried taking his pals on fishing trips but the only one who would come after a few trips is Fionn.

Iskander

The big man enjoys his maps, so naturally he became a geography major who minored in classics.

He’s a part of the wresting team and his friends joke about burying their faces into his tiddies saying things such as “normalize friend group homoerotism”.

Iskander got very into strategy games, and his not so guilty pleasure game is the Fire Emblem series.

Waver

A freshmen history major who is very out of his element.

Ended up getting adopted by Iskander because he ended up accidently bumping into him checking his phone.

He’s honestly terrified of Iskander’s friends but he keeps getting dragged into their hangouts. He eventually develops a soft spot for all of them, and cried when some of them graduated.

Identifies as a part of the LGBTQ+ community but isn’t sure how to label it, whether in regards to gender or sexuality.

[system-of-a-feather]

I’m still thinking about Moon Knight Episode 5 cause it really hit home and like... really got me thinking on a few things that have just been circling in my head trying to be digested but really struggling since I don’t have much access to a lot of our actual childhood shit, but I think one of the things that really got my brain stuck is that I think I really really resonate with Steven (and by think, I obviously do, innocent fictive host and shit) and I think a large part of Episode 5 really had me hearing Marc and like... having that be shit I really never heard properly from my system and probably needed to hear but never got to because admitting a lot of that would put the whole “point” of me in jeopardy if I wasn’t so much ready to deal with the implications and meta knowledge.

With recent trauma processing and system work, we’ve - or rather I guess I since I’m sure a large number of other parts already knew this- realized we are not a system of functional parts with a few hurting, disordered, and messed up parts, but that we are a very disordered, very hurt, very fucked up and messed up parts, with like.... two functioning parts. And I don’t mean functioning as in “are actually worth anything” but as in “is relatively good at integrating into society, looking only moderately mentally ill, having a life, having goals, and being decent at living and having enough positive affect and vision to keep a healthy positive ending in mind.”

Save for me and Lucille - and maybe Eva and Ray but they’re on the fence - no one else in this system really has much room for positive affect and interactions with the real world. Everyone else is considerably jaded about the world, stuck in trauma-mindset, jaded about themselves, and/or has abandoned “reality / the world” to live internally because they have given up on existence. 

And you know “that’s the whole point of you” is really rough to think about until you really do kind of think about how literally, it is a very large and important purpose to have. Sure you aren’t killing monsters and dealing with the “hard reality” of the abuse, but you are sitting out there protecting a sense of hope, future, happiness and humanity so that when survival is over, you can actually have a chance of living again. Being able to remain “innocent” and unmarred by the trauma and reality of what has happened, has allowed us to maintain a drive to still be alive and to value ourselves and others in the world despite all that we have gone through.

I’m a dumb idiot that doesn’t know half of the reality of what we’ve been through, but I’m also one of the only ones here who can see the world without the blood-tainted lenses that trauma has given everyone else and actually give the system something to work for and an idealistic image of what could be. I am not rooted in “our reality” and “our truth” but I am rooted closer to what the world actually is and believing a lot more that things can and should be better for us because what happened to us was an unfortunate unlucky situation that we didn’t deserve, and that there is a chance that our luck could turn around and we could be like others.

Since Moon Knight started, I’ve been of the theory and idea that Steven exists and acts as the life Marc wishes he could have and could lead - having a normal job (even if its a shitty minimum wage) and to build relationships and to have the joy be coming home to a handicapped fish - and I still stand by it. That’s a life Marc can’t make for himself because of his PTSD symptoms and his self hate and his overall fear and hypervigilance, but Steven - Steven who managed to remain primarily unaware of the trauma that has happened is still capable to lead that life for them.

Steven could start and build a happier life that they always wanted because he isn’t aware of their bleeding and damage. He can get help, create something they need to get them somewhere better, by just not knowing how badly hurt they are.

There’s a massive strength, and a massive importance in being an “innocent fluff ball” and still having goodness and hope despite horrible things having happened. Steven’s not an uwu baby, he’s just a guy living as “a guy” when his life and history has dictated that he should be “broken”.

Anyways, I’m just rambling and arguably (probably) projecting, but this episode has lived rent free in my head on repeat for like 50-60 hours and I have thoughts.