#or because their talents lean towards more niche areas

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 64 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Violet was not pleased by Team Adult’s discussion about Courtney, and Katya tried to grit her teeth and smile through her anxiety.

This Chapter: Katya continues to fake it, Tati rescues Courtney from Team Adult, Bianca makes nice, and Violet finds joy with an old friend.

***

“Katya! How are you, girl?” asked Alexis, giving her a tight hug that smelled like sweet florals.

Even though Katya had barely worked in Fame’s office, the entirety of the Galactica staff absolutely loved her, the crew always welcoming her back with open arms ever since the first time Trixie brought her back, everyone delighted to see her.

“Hi! I’m good, how are you?” Katya replied, touching the ruffles of her dark red skirt, doing her best to keep the smile on her face. “Love this dress.”

Alexis looked at her for a long moment before tilting her head and lowering her voice, asking, “Are you okay?”

Katya bit back a sarcastic reply. After all, Alexis couldn’t have guessed that she was about the 40th person tonight to ask her that question. Katya was trying her best, she really was, but simply maintaining her sanity all week had been hard enough.

She just didn’t have the energy to be her usual effervescent self, and she knew it.

“I’m fine, just a little tired,” Katya shrugged, the words an absolute lie since she honestly felt exhausted. “You know, this time of year the six year olds are a bit out of control. Christmas cheer and all.”

Alexis laughed, patting her on the arm. “Well, bless you for taking care of the little monsters.”

When Alexis left a few minutes later, Katya felt a familiar arm wrap around her shoulders. “You know, if you want to leave early, we can.”

“That’s okay, sugar butt.” Katya turned around, placing a kiss on Trixie’s cheek, her fiancé wearing a sparkly silver tuxedo. “I know it’s important for you to bond with your team.”

“Yeah, but it’s even more important that you’re okay,” Trixie told her softly, holding her against his side, his voice low and full of concern.

“Have I told you today that you’re my favorite?”

“No…”

Katya wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him flush against her, Trixie immediately responding to her dominance. “How about this...you go chat up whoever you need to, and I’ll go prepare a sampling of every dessert they have...then we can meet back at that table in 10 minutes for a taste test?”

“Oh, you’re so on, baby.”

He gave her an enthusiastic high-five before scampering away, Katya smiling at his jaunty little walk. She’d been feeling so guilty for days now, wondering if she’d ever be enough for him. If she couldn’t handle kids, would he still be happy? She supposed there was no way to truly know for sure, and that thought plagued her like no other.

“Hey Katya. Are you okay?”

Katya closed her eyes, taking a brief moment to center herself before forcing a sunny smile and turning towards April’s voice.

***

The Galactica party was a lot more fun than Tati expected, everyone so much sweeter than she had hoped. She had bumped into Violet, the two of them actually talking this time, and Ivy had said hello to her earlier, Tatianna still beyond grateful for how kind the redhead had been to her at the holiday show. And then of course, there was the lovely Max, who had taken some photos for Tati’s portfolio after they’d met in September.

“Hi Max!” she exclaimed, greeting him with a bright smile. “It’s great to see you again!”

“Tatianna, hello!” Max said, gesturing for her to stop and pose in front of a big glittering Christmas tree, snapping a few shots of her, laughing as she hammed it up, giving him her best poses. “Well done.”

“I feel so honored to be in front of your camera again,” Tati said.

“Not for the last time, I hope.”

“Oh god, me too. I honestly can’t thank you enough for that session we had.”

“So they were useful then?” Max asked.

“You’re kidding, right?” Tatianna didn’t want to say that the simple photos Max had taken of her in his studio were a million times better than the meager gigs her agency had booked for her. It had been so much fun to shoot with him, Max guiding her with his calm voice and clear vision, the results speaking for himself even though Tatianna had just been doing what he asked. “They’re the best photos in my portfolio, hands down.”

“I know it’s tough when you’re starting out,” Max said, “But I’m sure you’ll find your niche; you’re very talented.”

“Thanks,” Tati said, hoping it wasn’t just something people said. It felt like she’d spent months pounding the pavement with little to show for it. Thank god for Courtney for getting her in with Galactica, because the holiday show had been her first major job for a real label, and she had her fingers crossed about walking for them during fashion week, hoping she’d done enough to prove herself.

She glanced towards Courtney once again, standing with Bianca and Miss Fame and what looked like a whole group of their high-roller friends, including the supermodel, Raven, who Tati still couldn’t believe she’d worked with. (Not that they’d exchanged two words, but even being in the same backstage area as her had been exciting.)

Tati knew that she should probably go over and say hi, but you couldn’t pay her to interrupt that group. Although from the look on Courtney’s face, she might have welcomed the interruption--poor girl looked stressed, clinging to Bianca’s hand for dear life.

Max followed her gaze, chuckling to himself. “Courtney’s new girlfriend is certainly a good person to know.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve met her before and I don’t think I left a very big impression. Although to be fair, she was real busy eye-fucking Courtney the whole time.”

Max laughed some more at that and said, “That sounds about accurate.”

Finally, Courtney glanced back in Tati’s direction, her eyes lighting up when she saw her. She leaned in, murmuring something into Bianca’s ear, then came bounding towards Tati, a relieved expression on her face.

“Augh, you look so fucking pretty!” Tati squealed, pulling Courtney in for a tight hug.

“Look who’s talking, golden goddess!” Courtney cried, taking her whole ensemble in, then turning to Max to add, “Hi Max, how are you?”

“I’m well, thanks,” Max said, picking up his camera again and snapping a shot of the two of them, Courtney on her tiptoes. “I should probably leave you ladies to catch up. Have a lovely evening.”

“Bye!”

“I love these shoes!” Tati said, spinning Courtney around.

“Thank you, they’re Bianca’s,” Courtney said, beaming up at her.

“So...how’s that all going? Are you having fun?”

“Tonight?” Courtney asked, smile fading, the look on her face betraying exactly how much fun she was not having. “Tonight’s been...interesting. I mean she’s amazing. And walking the red carpet together was just the most exciting moment of my whole life.”

“Aww…” Tati grinned, then asked, “...but?”

“But...her friends are...not quite in favor of it. I think they think she could do better.”

“Fuck them! You’re a goddamn catch.”

“Thank you,” Courtney giggled, then waved to someone excitedly. “Oh! There’s Alaska! She’s the best, she’s in charge of the makeup department and she told me they’re gonna be casting the next campaign in January. Let’s go say hi!”

“I love you…” Tati said, letting Courtney pull her over to a striking blonde woman in a blue gown with sky-high heels and even higher hair.

Tati stood up straight, hoping to make a good impression, but their exchange with Alaska was quickly cut short when a swarm of people flocked over to hammer Courtney with questions about her scandalous date.

“Are you guys actually a couple?”

“Is Miss Fame mad?”

“How long has it been going on?”

“Are the rumors true?”

Courtney laughed, taking the questions in stride and giving very diplomatic answers along with a few knowing winks, finally able to loosen up and have fun.

***

Shangela loved the annual Christmas party. Sure, it was a pain to put together, Fame’s attention to detail and demand for perfection almost impossible to keep up with, and yet, they managed it every single year, the result always worth it.

“Mmh!” Rita moaned, her eyes closed. “God, this gelato is magnificent!” The HR director was dressed in a sparkly blue suit, her hair twisted in a tight updo.

“Do you two want a room?” Jaida raised an eyebrow, her arms crossed, her white nails tapping against her brown skin. She was dressed in glittery royal purple, and looked like a million bucks.

“Do not be jealous of those of us who have chosen comfort over beauty,” Rita smiled, her accent coming out. “You might be skinny, but I, I have gelato.”

Shangela snorted, Jaida hitting Rita’s shoulder and leaning in for a taste.

“Guys!” Shangela looked out on the dance floor, Kiara standing there with her arms over her head decked out in sparkling gold, Laganja next to her in gorgeous yellow. “Get on out here!”

“Come on!” Laganja cupped her mouth, “or are you scared you can’t shake it?!”

“Ugh!” Shangela gasped, holding a hand to her chest. “Girl you did not just say that to my face! Move aside!”

***

Bianca loved her friends, but she knew how intense and judgmental they could be, and so she was glad to see Courtney finally having fun on the dance floor with Tati. She smiled slightly to herself, watching as Courtney twirled and laughed--the lowkey shade she’d gracefully endured earlier seemingly forgotten.

She turned back to the group, catching Fame’s eye and giving her what she hoped was her most charming smile. Fame narrowed her eyes slightly, lips pursed, and Bianca sidled up to her, putting an arm around her waist.

“So on a scale of 1 to 10...how mad are you?” Bianca asked softly.

“A 7.” Fame’s voice was cold, but she didn’t push on Bianca’s arms, didn’t try to wiggle out of her embrace.

“I’ll take that,” Bianca laughed, a moment of relief fluttering in her chest.

“You know I hate being blindsided,” Fame told her.

“I know, I know...but be honest. If I’d called you and told you that I was bringing her, what would you have said?”

“I’d have said the same thing I told you a month ago.” Fame looked at her, her blue-gray eyes filled with annoyance. “Absolutely not. Stay away from my staff, and for damn sure don’t bring them anywhere near a red carpet.”

“Exactly.”

Fame rolled her eyes, shaking her head at Bianca, but not making any move to get away from her gasp. She was definitely peeved, and wanted Bianca to know, but they’d be okay. And Bianca had no doubt that once her friends realized that her relationship with Courtney was serious--and even better, than it was making her so absolutely happy--they’d all get on board.

Bianca leaned in and pressed a kiss to Fame’s cheek, then inquired, “Still a 7?”

Fame gave her some side eye before admitting, “Maybe a six and a half.”

“Hey, progress!” Bianca said, clinking their glasses together, Fame not pulling away which Bianca took as another win. “That’s barely more than usual.”

“If you ever,” Fame pointed at Bianca, champagne twirling around in her glass, “pull something like this again,” Fame’s voice was firm and hard, a warning tone in it that left no room for arguments. “I might not be so forgiving.”

“So you’re saying don’t propose at your Spring runway show?” Bianca asked, a mischievous grin deepening her dimples.

“Bianca, that’s not funny,” Fame sighed, exasperation radiating from her and Bianca laughed, hugging her tight. “If I thought you’d still be together in February, you’d be on very thin ice right now.”

“Good one, blondie,” Bianca said. Given the circumstances, she decided it was better to let her have that one.

***

Courtney had never liked her coworkers more than tonight, on the dance floor. She was so used to seeing everyone in their serious, professional modes, but getting tipsy and a bit silly with them was a much-needed reprieve.

However, as much fun as it was, her eyes kept getting pulled towards Bianca, and her dimples, and the hand that was wrapped around her glass that Courtney wished was wrapped around her thigh. At one point, she glanced over to find Bianca gazing back at her, tingles rushing up her spine as their eyes met.

She smiled slowly, giving her best hair toss and bedroom eyes, hips moving in a slow, lazy circle. Then, for good measure, just to really hammer the message home, she took her fingers and slid them slowly up her thigh, lifting her skirt ever so slightly.

Bianca’s expression barely changed, but Courtney was watching closely enough to detect the slight quirk of her eyebrow, the smile tugging on her lips. She also saw Bianca’s eyes flick over to the exit, then back to her, and gave the faintest nod of agreement.

“Tati? Would you hate me if I took off?”

“What?” Tati yelled over the music, laughing as Bob took her hand and spun her in a circle. “No, go get laid, girl. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

And with one last air kiss, Courtney headed for the door, nearly skipping towards the exit.

Bianca took longer than her to extricate herself from her friend group, and by the time she made it out to the lobby, Courtney was already waiting, posed, leaning against a table covered in poinsettias.

Bianca threw open the door, striding towards her quickly, taking her face into her hands and kissing her hungrily. When she pulled away, she was already breathing hard, one hand wrapped around Courtney’s waist, the other tangled in her hair.

“Did you have fun in there?”

“It was alright,” Bianca murmured, lips trailing down her jaw. “Fuck, why didn’t I get a hotel room for us?”

“Um, because you live four blocks away?” Courtney ventured as her eyes fell closed.

“Four long, endless blocks,” Bianca moaned softly, fingers gripping her waist tighter.

“Come on…” Courtney giggled, pushing off from the table and heading for the door. “Let’s get out of here.”

***

“Uh!” Pearl’s eyes widened as she swallowed, an explosion of deliciousness in her mouth. She reached down, stabbing another piece of the passion fruit mousse on her fork. She had spotted Violet sitting by herself, her friend clearly not having a good time, so Pearl had done what any great bro would do, which was kidnap her, the two of them now tucked away in the darkest corner she could find.

“Try this one Vivi!”

“What?” Violet looked at her like she was crazy, a raspberry tart on her half of the plate and Pearl couldn’t help but laugh. Their legs were intertwined, the seat they had taken not nearly big enough for two adults. Pearl had grabbed them a plate of the teeny tiny desserts that had been put out, the treats resting on Pearl’s thigh and Violet’s skirt.

“Come on,” Pearl grinned, raising the fork, “Here comes the airplane.”

“You’re insane,” Violet laughed, the frown of her beautiful face completely gone.

“Open wide!” Pearl moved the fork forward, making an airplane noise, Violet hitting her hand to get it away from her face.

“Pearl!” Violet cried, outrage in her voice, even though she was still laughing, their plate almost toppling over, Pearl popping the bite in her own mouth.

“I’ll get you next time.” Pearl wiggled her brows, swallowing the mousse down.

“Please,” Violet sounded exasperated, but she was adorable when she was upset, Pearl knowing few things that were more fun than ruffling Violet’s feathers. Pearl was just about to go for Violet’s raspberry tart, stealing it a surefire way to get into another play fight, when she saw light coming out of Violet’s clutch.

“Umh, Vivi?” Pearl pointed to the ground, “Your bag is glowing.”

“Shit!” Violet’s eyes widened, and she lunged for her clutch, nearly tipping over the plate as she fished her phone out.

***

“Fuck!” Courtney exclaimed, Bianca all but hurling her onto the bed, her dress tossed to the floor the second they’d stepped off the elevator.

Courtney was already on edge from the ride home, Bianca driving her absolutely nuts in the backseat of the town car, sucking wet kisses into her neck, toying with the little decorative buttons on the front of her panties. She sprawled on the bed, legs danging over the side, looking up wild-eyed at Bianca standing above her, tugging her down by the skirt.

“Please, B...”

“Please what, angel?” Bianca asked, flashing her a wicked smirk as she slowly knelt down between her legs.

“I...I…”

“I love these practical undies,” Bianca said, fingers trailing over the edge of Courtney’s gray, boy-cut panties. She dipped her head, teeth pulling at the little buttons, the pressure against Courtney’s clit even better than it had been in the car, immediately making her grasp the covers in her fists.

“I love seeing you all wet like this, baby.” Bianca nuzzled into the front of her panties, then began to kiss down her thigh.

“So wet,” Courtney echoed, thrusting her hips up, begging, “Take them off, please.”

Bianca pressed one more kiss to her inner thigh, then began to slide her panties down. She let go of the covers, hands going to her tits, playing with her nipples to release some of the pressure building up in her abdomen.

“In a hurry?” Bianca teased, lips ghosting over her.

“I need…”

“What do you need, angel? Tell me,” Bianca urged, nibbling gently on her thigh, mouth moving higher. “Tell me.”

“You tongue…” she whined, not caring how needy and strung-out she must have seemed.

“Uh huh...where?” Bianca licked her, so gently she thought she might scream, right at the crease of her thigh.

Courtney let out an impatient, strangled moan, pinching her nipples hard, hips rolling faster now. She could feel Bianca’s hot breath against her, and all she wanted was that mouth, that tongue, but words were failing her. The only thing she could manage was a gasping litany of, “Please please please please…”

It seemed to work, though, Bianca swirling a tongue over her, finally, strong hands holding her shaking legs apart. Her body responded fully to every generous touch, arching up, whimpers turning soon to full-throated moans.

***

“You know,” Sutan reached out, closing the cab door, Violet’s crutches against his chest as the car pulled out, juggling everything while tipsy a huge pain. “I can’t wait for these,” Sutan moved his arm, the crutches clacking, “to be obsolete.”

It had taken forever to find Violet, her phone going to voicemail the first three times he had tried it, and while he wasn’t proud of it, it had taken a few deep breaths not to panic.

Apparently, the vibration on it had died months ago, the fact that he had a 23 year old girlfriend who actually had the sound turned on on her phone in her everyday life deeply bizarre.

“I’m sorry that me getting around is such a huge inconvenience for you.” Violet was leaning back into the seat, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “I’ll tell my broken bones to hurry up.”

Sutan realised how stupid he had just been, Violet’s struggle so much grater than the hassle he felt.

“Sorry.” He went for an apologetic smile, hoping it was clear on his face that he meant it. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Mmh?” Violet looked over at him, and Sutan put her crutches down against the window, hoping that they’d stay in place.

“Yes mmh.” He moved closer, their driver ignoring them completely as his hand touched Violet’s knee, his arm sneaking around the back seat, boxing her in. “Can you forgive me?”

“Hmm,” Violet hummed, the sweet lavender scent that had become synonymous with her filling his nose, the prettiest blush dusted over her cheeks. “I’ll consider it.”

“Good,” Sutan grinned, “because I am very, very, very sorry.”

“Oh god,” Violet rolled her eyes, a chuckle leaving her. “You absolute idiot.” She reached out, putting her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss, their lips touching as Sutan pressed her against the car door, their trip home a lot more interesting now.

***

“Go go go go!” Alaska laughed, clapping her hands together as Kandy and Ivy slammed back shots. Most of the non-staff guests had left by then, staying once the cameras had disappeared not that interesting. It was, of course, the best part of the night, as the lights went down and the bass turned up.

“Yeees!” Alaska cheered as Ivy finished the 5th shot and slammed the glass down seconds before Kandy.

“Everybody!” Shangela grabbed Ivy’s hand, “We have a winner!” She thrusted it into the air, making everyone laugh, and Alaska felt like she was flying high.

She grabbed her vodka soda, looking around the room, only just spotting Kim Chi who was bent over  a couch, drawing a moustache with lipstick on Amy who had passed out. As their boss, Alaska had a fleeting concern, wondering if she should intervene, but then shrugged, realizing how hilarious it was, and turned back to Shangela to take another shot.

[looselucy]

The Only Living Boy in New York

June 14th – Harry’s POV I awoke from a restless sleep, my eyes uneasily meeting another murky morning in New York, my entire body burdened with a brazen ache. It was clear that misery loved company from the way that it clung at my side, dug its claws into my skin. I was exhausted.

In recent months, I’d gotten into the habit of instinctively turning to gage of the other side of the bed, and even though I’d been in New York for almost three weeks, and I hadn’t shared a bed with her for over a month, I still hadn’t managed to break the habit of turning to see Alfie every single morning. Coming to my senses and finding my bed empty didn’t seem to be getting any easier. Already exasperated, I turned again and reached for my phone which lay on top of my bedside cabinet to check the time, disappointed to have once again stirred at such an early hour. “For fuck sake.” I huffed, craving more sleep. I had to literally drag myself out of bed and into my bathroom, my eyes barely open as I leaned and turned on the taps to fill up the bath, leaving the water running and heading to the living area of my apartment, coffee feeling essential. I wasn’t sure why I’d ever thought that being in New York would make anything better, because it never had. All I’d known for sure was that I wanted to get out of Rosebury, start afresh, try to put that phase of my life behind me, and New York felt like the only real option I had, somewhere with enough distance but somewhere I was familiar with. I’d really thought that I would feel better once I was there, once I was settled. I didn’t. As I filled up the kettle with water, a loud buzzing noise interrupted me, someone ringing my buzzer from the street downstairs. I frowned at the idea of company, not just because I didn’t desire it but because of its unfamiliarity. I headed towards the door, pressed the button to speak between systems. “Hello?” I groaned. “It’s Liam, buzz me in.” I did as I was told, not saying another word before I pressed the button to open the door and allow him into the building where I lived. Liam was my agent. He’d been my agent for years. Liam spoke directly with galleries and clients and buyers and he was the reason my art had done as well as it had. He was alarmingly good at his job, meaning the work of a young boy just out of university had been seen as something truly special. I so easily could have been dismissed at such a young age with such little experience, but Liam had managed to make my name for me, make sure I could live a life that was far more than comfortable. When I so easily could have been shunned, Liam made it so that I was respected. I had a lot to thank him for. It took him some time to reach me due to the fact that I lived on the top floor of my building, overlooking Central Park, a few doors down from the studio I had for my art; somewhere to feel creative and somewhere I’d open up and use as a public gallery, occasionally. I’d told Liam I was back in New York around a week earlier, but he lived in the UK most of the time. I’d known it wouldn’t have been too long before he showed up, got me back into painting and selling. It was inevitable. I made us both a coffee and turned off the running water for my bath, and by the time he got there and knocked on my door, I actually felt quite good about seeing him again. It was nice to see someone I knew, a face that felt friendly and welcomed. It had been too long. “Morning!” He greeted cheerily when I opened the door. “You’re up early.” “I had an early flight. Slept all the way here. How’s things?” “Uh… Fine, yeah. Everything’s fine.” He looked as composed and well-dressed as he always did when I saw him. I’d never seen him wearing anything other than a suit; always different, always perfectly fitted and pristine. It didn’t make sense to me that he’d just gotten off an eight-hour flight, but Liam had this certain quality about him, this poise, something that assisted with his selling techniques. He was always professional. “Sure?” “Yeah. Yeah, fine. I uh- I made you a coffee. How are you?” “I’m good, cheers. Glad to see you. Glad to have you back in New York.” “Mm.” I tried my best to sound even slightly enthusiastic, but it didn’t play. I wasn’t happy there. And I was beginning to worry that I wouldn’t ever feel happy anywhere. “To be honest, I wasn’t expecting you to move back here.” “No?” I grumbled after taking a hefty sip. “No, I mean… The last time I spoke to you properly, you seemed really settled. Happy. You were in the countryside somewhere, right?” “Yeah. Up North, a place called Rosebury.” “What changed? I mean that was… a couple of months ago?” I didn’t know what to say. I liked Liam, and he’d been in my life for a long time, but we weren’t close. We were barely friends, really. He didn’t feel like someone I could share with, not that sharing ever came easily for me. I couldn’t begin to explain how my feelings had altered since I’d spoken to him on the phone that day, mere hours before my brother broke into my home. “It was… It was just time to move on.” I sighed, not willing to discuss it. “Since you’re here… we should talk work. M’gunna start painting again, sell some new stuff.” “And the Blood Sun?” He asked. I went quiet for a while, staring at him as I thought about that painting, thought about what I wanted, how it made me feel. “I… I wanna focus on new stuff right now. I can’t even think about the Blood Sun at the minute, because… The thing is, I don’t wanna paint with blood anymore.” The look on his face after I’d said that was proof that our relationship, however friendly, was strictly business. He seemed shocked, maybe even disappointed by me saying I no longer wanted to paint with blood. It was my niche, it was what had gotten people so interested in my work, a large reasoning behind why my stuff sold for as much as it did. Liam was thinking business, and me not using blood had the potential to drive down prices, which meant he earnt less. As understandable as it was, I couldn’t help but wish for more. I thought about Alfie, how she had only cared about me, my health, what using blood was doing to me and how vital it was that I stopped, found a different way of expressing my feelings through my art. She didn’t look at it as an expression, she saw it as me hurting myself and nothing more. I’d finally started to see it the same way. “Right. Okay… Shit.” He sat himself down on the stool beside him. “Are you sure? It’s a major selling point.” “One that involves… self-harm, to put it bluntly. I don’t wanna do it anymore. I can’t.” “Okay, yeah. Well… I mean, since you’ve had a break, maybe we present it as like… a new era.” He spoke his thoughts as they came to his head. “Maybe… think of something new. A new style. A new addition. Something almost to… replace the blood, y’know?” “Right. Okay, yeah.” “Different styles, different techniques. A new method. Let’s keep people interested, that’s the main thing.” “Agreed. M’glad you… get it. M’glad you understand.” “As long as you can think up something new. You got any ideas?” “Uh… Not really. I dunno, I guess I’ve… not been in that much of a creative headspace recently.” When I’d moved to Rosebury, I’d made a purposeful and conscious decision not to paint, pulling myself out of that mindset in order to save my sanity, hoping to heal. Despite a minor setback when I’d gone to New York at the end of February, the only other time I’d allowed myself to paint was when I was with Alfie, which was carefree, fun, something I didn’t really need to think about. She helped to make something that once made me miserable into something that felt good, for the first time in years. It was hard to feel creative without immediately linking that with pain. It was hard to think about Alfie without immediately linking her with pain. “Well, that’s one of the reasons I’m here, actually.” He got back to his feet, walking around the kitchen counter and approaching me, routing through his pocket. “Y’know James Caine?” “Uh… I dunno, I don’t think so.” “He’s an artist, he lives locally. Recently moved here from Manchester. He’s good. He’s talented. I work with him and he wants to meet you.” He handed me over a rather tattered piece of paper with an address scribbled onto it, my brows low as I took it from his hand before looking back up to him. “Why?” “Because you’re Harry fucking Styles.” He leered. “He likes your stuff. He wants to talk art, work, what it’s like here, how to build his name up. He’s having a party tonight, and he asked me if I could get you to go.” “M'not really… in a party mood.” “I wouldn’t expect anything too wild. Bunch’a creative types, artists, sellers, y’know.” “Mm.” If anything, that put me off even more. When I’d last been in New York fulltime, my whole life seemed to centre around events like that and I’d always hated them. There was such a lack of honesty in those rooms and within those people, too many pretences and false personalities that people created as though they thought it would suit their career, forcing who they thought they should be. People were pretentious and arrogant and self-obsessed, and it was always something I’d hated about my job and the little quirks that accompanied it. “You should go. I think it’d be good for you. Get talking about art with some interesting people, you’ll think up something for your new work in no time, I promise.” “Fine.” I sighed despondently, placing the paper down on the counter. “I probably won’t stay, but I’ll go for a while. See if it helps.” “Good choice. Right, I’ll see you there then! I’ve gotta go, I’m meeting some people. Gotta cram in as much work as possible whilst I’m here.” “How long are you here for?” I asked as I approached my sofa, resting against the back of it and folding my arms. “Couple of weeks, then back to London.” “Well… I’ll try and think something up before you go.” “Nice one.” He nodded. “Alright, I’ll see you tonight.” He was seconds away from leaving, opening the door before I managed to spit out my question, nervous and ridden with fear. “Do you know any therapists?” I rushed, speaking so quickly that what I’d said was unclear to him. “What?” He turned around to face me. “Do you… Do you know of any therapists?” I paced myself, my throat feeling swollen, almost choking over the words. “You wanna see a therapist?” He asked. “Yeah. I think… Yeah. I-I thought I remembered you saying you once saw someone, but-” “I did, but not here. It was back in the UK, a long time ago. I saw a woman called Dr Jackson for… almost two years.” “Did it help?” Whenever the mere thought of therapy had introduced itself to my mind before, I’d completely shunned it. I’d been dubious about how talking was supposed to help in some way, it hadn’t made sense to me. Talking had never felt like any sort of solution, but somehow, over time, Alfie had changed that. She encouraged me, supported me, helped me to articulate times of my life that I hadn’t been able to communicate efficiently, things I had never really spoken about. She made me realise that talking really did have the power to help, the power to change things in a positive way. I didn’t want my past to keep holding me back in the way it was. She’d helped me more than I could even begin to understand, but it hadn’t been enough. I could tell by my recent actions and feelings that it wasn’t enough. I knew something wasn’t right, and I so badly wanted to fix it in any way I could. “She really helped me, yeah. She was amazing.” Liam said. I wanted that. Needed it. As wonderful as she’d been, Alfie was not a therapist. There was only so much she could do. There was only so much I had allowed her to do. My emotions had been undistinguishable for quite some time, not at all limited to but largely surrounding how I was feeling about Alfie. I missed her so much. I was sure I’d done the right thing, but it didn’t make it any easier. I was just so sure that in the long run, I wouldn’t be any good for her. I didn’t want her to love me, because I was completely convinced that I was a bad omen, that I’d ruin it and hurt her and it would break the two of us more than it already had. I was not in the right position to give her everything she deserved. I wasn’t the right person to do that, no matter how much I wanted to be. Trying to explain that to her didn’t really feel like an option, because she’d have fought it. She would have fought for me and us and it would have hurt so much more than it already did. Being without her was killing me but it had to be that way. Jack was right. It was better to get out, save myself from as much pain as I possibly could. So once again, I’d chosen against talking, because I couldn’t. It was like my body was physically fighting any attempt I could make to tell her exactly how I was feeling. Instead of talking, explaining myself, I’d been blunt and hurtful and I’d lied, because I thought it would be easier for her. In a way, I wanted to give her a reason to hate me, to be angry and frustrated, anything to stop her from loving me. Anything to make it easier for her. We weren’t right for each other. Or at least, I wasn’t right for her. She had brought so much light into my life that I’d began to fear the dark, dread how things would be without her, and I was right to. I couldn’t stand the thought of her just waking up one day and realising she’d be better off without me. I felt too vulnerable. No one I’d ever cared for that much had stayed in my life. How could I expect her to be any different? I put the power back into my own hands thinking that would help, but the longer we were apart, it seemed my theory wasn’t panning out. I had no idea what might help me to heal, but seeing a therapist felt like a good place to start. “I’m sure there’ll be a lot of good therapists here.” Liam continued, covering my contemplative silence. “Just look around. Don’t think that… the highest price means the best therapy, because it doesn’t. You can sit across from some people and realise instantly that they see you as a job. Find someone who cares. Find someone who honestly wants to help, not someone who sees you as work. Yeah?” “Thanks.” “Don’t mention it. See you tonight.” “Yeah.” With a smile, he finally left my apartment, leaving me on my own with my thoughts once again. I practically downed the rest of my coffee before heading back through my bedroom and into the bathroom, filling up the bath the rest of the way before undressing, testing the waters, messing with my phone to play music through the speakers I had installed around the flat, and then finally climbing in. I became accustom to the heat quickly, steam rising around me as I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath in before submerging myself completely, imagining myself in the lake just outside of Rosebury. The sound of The Only Living Boy in New York playing became distant, unclear, somewhere between soothing and utterly unbearable. I listened to it on repeat for the next hour.

“You’re Harry Styles, right?” A little dazed, I looked up, gaging the boy ahead of me. I knew it would only be so long before my solitude was spoilt, but I suppose it was to be expected at such an event. The party had been even more agonising than I’d predicted. James, the boy who was hosting, was new to the area and relatively new to the scene that came with his career, and not only was he milking it, but he was putting on a show, building a character before my eyes. I’d met him briefly when I first arrived, but hoped to speak to him a little more before the nights end, advise him to stay true to himself, not to get lost in all the bullshit and be who what he thought others believed he should be. If he really wanted to talk to me about work, that would be the only honest advice I could give. I’d been there a few hours, only really sticking around to be polite and possibly hoping for a bit of inspiration, but that would have been difficult given I hadn’t even bothered to talk to anyone. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that someone had approached me. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s me.” I sat upwards on the sofa, changing my poise to speak to him properly. “Shit, I’m a huge fan. So good to meet you.” He offered his hand, and I took it. “My name’s Zayn.” “Nice to meet you.” I managed to smile, sort of comforted by his familiar accent, his demeaner. “You an artist?” “Graphic design.” He told me, sitting down beside me on the sofa. “I work on a lot of book covers, posters, advertisement, that sorta thing.” “Nice. You live here?” “I do. And what about you? I’d heard you lived here, but then according to the grapevine, you haven’t been around for a while.” “No, I uh… I moved back to the UK for a while.” “So that’s why your gallery hasn’t been open? I’ve been dying to see your stuff in person.” “M'gunna open again soon. M’just trying to… gather my bearings a bit. Get used to all… this again.” I huffed, gesturing vaguely to the room. He chuckled in a way that suggested he knew exactly what I meant and agreed entirely. “You don’t sound overly impressed.” “Am I that obvious?” I turned my head to him, smiled. “I get it. I feel the same way. I’ve known James for years, and the first thing he spoke about with me tonight was how much his latest piece went for. His new apartment. How fake he thinks everyone else is.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s mad how quickly people change.” I sat forward, still with my eyes on him, a huge smile on my face. I liked him instantly. “What was your name again?” “Zayn.” He answered. “Genuinely, it’s good to meet you. It’s good to talk with someone who… I dunno. I feel like we’re on the same page. I don’t get that often. Not here, anyway.” Just as we were about to really get talking, a rather large group of people approached us, some of them heading towards him, others coming up to me, tearing us away from our talk. There was a mix of people, some that I’d met a few times before, others completely new faces. Zayn got to his feet to greet them properly, whereas I basically retracted back into the chair, overwhelmed by their company, anxious and claustrophobic. They all sort of spoke around me, through me, at me. There wasn’t even really a conversation to join in with, it was all just noise. One of the many things I’d loved about being in Rosebury was the sense of community and family there. When people asked of your wellbeing, they actually cared to know the answer. They were kind, considerate, down to earth, genuine. I understood why my mother had always been so fond of it there, so drawn to that place. I cleared my throat, looking up to the people around me and spotting a girl who was staring right at me, my mind taking the few seconds to place her. And then she smirked, and I knew. She pushed through the crowd, drawing herself closer to me even though I’d dropped eye contact as quickly as I could, desperate not to talk to her. “Hi, Harry.” She leered as she got to me. “Y’alright?” I grumbled. “It’s been a long time. Too long.” She was someone I used to sleep with before I moved to Rosebury in August the year before, our companionship so casual and empty that I hadn’t even bothered to tell her I was moving away. I hadn’t seen her since, and I was glad of it because I knew exactly what she’d be like. She took her place beside me, immediately putting her fingers in my hair, her touch unwelcomed and cold. I really didn’t want to see her. She was so abrasively forward, unashamedly attempting to rekindle a flame that had barely existed between us in the first place. I knew I’d see her eventually, but I’d been absolutely dreading it. I didn’t look directly at her, my jaw tight as I cringed over her touch. “Please tell me it’s true you’ve moved back here.” She leaned close to me, whispering in my ear. “Unfortunately, that’s true.” I seethed, tilting my head the other way, but it didn’t stop her. “I don’t think it’s unfortunate. I think we should pick up where we left off.” My stomach was literally churning with every word, every sultry touch she inflicted upon my body. All I could think of was Alfie. All I could think about was how different it might feel if she was the one running her fingers through my hair, whispering in my ear, how it would feel to have her body that close to mine. I craved to once again experience the feelings I used to get when I was with her, how it felt to hold her, be held by her. But I knew that even if I was with her then, it wouldn’t be the same, not after everything. The day before I’d left, when she came to my place, touching her and being around her just seemed to fucking hurt more than anything else, like I was grasping hold of a memory, or a concept of something and someone I wanted so badly but didn’t deserve. Every overwhelming sensation that used to burst through my body when we touched was gone. Those butterflies she used to create, those beautiful butterflies had stopped fluttering, as though someone reached right into my gut and ripped them out one by one. I would have still taken the agony of Alfie’s touch any day over the way I felt then. “I don’t think so.” I answered bleakly. “C’mon, Harry, I’ve missed you.” She pouted. “We were good together.” “We weren’t together.” “You know what I mean.” She shrugged. “Do you need me to elaborate? Remind you of some specifics…” She trailed her hand to my chest, reaching through the gap at the top of shirt to feel at my skin. I closed my eyes, my nostrils flaring as I tried to keep myself together. “No. I don’t-” “I know you hate nights alone. Let me keep you company.” I turned my head to look at her, be sure that she could see the unyielding look in my eyes, that she would have no doubt at all that I was being entirely truthful about my intentions, how adamant I was that I’d rather be on my own than ever have her in my bed again. But she didn’t even give the chance to speak before she rapidly leaned into me, put her lips on mine. My eyes gripped shut as though I was fighting physical pain, but for a second, I kissed her back. It was a mere moment, a blip of time and thoughtlessness, but I kissed her back. Maybe to test the waters. Maybe because of my hopeless need to feel something, anything. But it was only for a second. Then I pulled away, taming myself as much as possible before I spoke, making sure that I didn’t yell even though that was exactly what I wanted to do. “Don’t ever fucking touch me again.” I wheezed. Whatever that kiss had made me feel, it wasn’t something to be desired. I had to admit to myself that I wasn’t in right frame of mind to be with anyone, even if it was without feeling or meaning. My kiss still belonged to someone else.

June 15th It was 4 AM when my phone rang. That was the first thing I did; check the time. With my eyes barely open and my head blaring, I looked to see the hour before I looked to see who was calling me, worried that I may have overslept and wasted most of my day. But it was early, too early. I didn’t even look at my phone, I just picked it up, not fully conscious as I attempted to answer it, hoping it would be a brief exchange with whoever was trying to get in touch with me at such a ridiculous hour. “Hello?” I just about spoke. “Shit. I didn’t think about the time difference, shit. Sorry.” I recognised Louis’ voice, my eyes opening. “Louis?” I began to sit myself up. “Yeah, sorry, I should’ve waited. I didn’t even think. I just…” “What? What is it?” I rubbed my eyes. “Is everything alright?” “I… I think you need to come home, mate.” My exhale was a heavy one. I think I’d sort of been expecting one of them to call in an attempt to coax me back there. They hadn’t been happy when I’d told them I was leaving. They’d wanted me to stay, for me to be happy, and I’d left them all without giving them more of a chance to talk things through with me. I purposefully avoided them after I’d broken the news, and I knew they’d have much more to say. They really did care about me. That’s why I thought he’d called. “I can’t, Louis. I-” “No, you need to. I know how much you fucking care about her, and she won’t call you herself, so-” “Wait, what? Is it Alfie?” I whipped my head up, suddenly wide awake. “Are you talking about Alfie? Is she alright?” He took a few seconds, his heart so heavy I could literally hear its burden over the phone. And then he told me. “Alfie’s mum died.”

[out-of-this-dimension]

Please tell me more about this hypothetical Starfox RPG

OH I AM SO GLAD YOU SENT THIS.  I was actually prepping a post with some ideas but then I got sidetracked and was like “Ehhh idk if anyone would wanna hear this anyways” but thank you, this validates me and my wild ideas.

So, the hypothetical Star Fox RPG I’ve been thinking about is turn based, a la Final Fantasy X and Bravely Default style with the main cast being on-foot for basically all of the game.  I know RPG has become a broad term but, imo, RPG will almost always mean turn based combat... idk if it’s just because of my first real RPG being Super Mario RPG for the SNES or what (that statement makes me feel old) but, yeah, the style I’m envisioning is more along the lines of true turn based with you navigating as the main character in an overworld with various zones that you can explore in-depth.

Anyways, I’m toying presently with the idea that various characters have various talents/strengths.  Kind of thinking about doing a branching class system or something akin to the older GBA Fire Emblem games where you could experiment with various party compositions in various playthroughs or maybe a skill tree but... maybe I’m getting ahead of myself.

Like Bravely Default, your entire party of four would be in each fight, with a game over happening when your entire team is wiped.  Characters would have unique specializations.  For instance, Fox would be generally good with guns and melee and be a bit of an all-arounder.  Krystal would have magic abilities she could use to cut through certain enemy armor.  Slippy would be decked out in heavy combat gear (perhaps one of his own inventions?) and be able to debuff enemies.  Falco would be a ranged unit, preferring the backline with a heavy emphasis on critting opponents.  

ROB64 and Peppy would serve as support.  ROB could be phoned and have supplies dropped in.  These are general supplies like healing items and such, with more impactful items being found planetside in various shops encountered along the way.  

Familiar faces could show up as NPCs.  Bill, Fara, Katt, etc.  Minigames abound could happen-- maybe even a racing minigame as a nod to that one ending in Command.  

Star Wolf would appear as a secondary, minor antagonist, competing against Star Fox on a mission and occasionally stepping in to interfere with them. I think it’d be kind of nice if there was a segment where Fox had to team with Star Wolf.  Maybe even unlock Wolf, Panther, and Leon as characters you could swap in for Slippy, Krystal, and Falco-- having the ones left behind chill in a hub area.  Think the campfire from Dragon Age: Origins, if you’ve ever played that.

Back on the subject of classes, I think what I’m envisioning is each character comes with a class for themselves but they have various options they can become.  For instance, Fox starts off as a “Mercenary” which is just... his base class with his melee and ranged attacks.  Later on he gets the option to promote to two different classes.  I’m not feeling super creative atm but we’ll call these promotions “Mercenary Leader” and “Lylatian Warrior” or something along those lines.  Mercenary Leader grants abilities where Fox can call down the Great Fox to provide support or even call on the Great Fox to laser some enemies.  Lylatian Warrior would give him extra attacks that maybe have additional effects like slow an opponent so their turn is slightly delayed or maybe apply a damage over time effect.  This would help them branch out of their niche roles and let them be a bit more flexible in combat as well as give players the options of choice as to what they have in their party depending on their personal preference.  

I could probably scream about class specializations for hours but I’m not entirely sure people want a novel about my out-there RPG game idea. 

As for a story?  I don’t really have one except I see it happening around the same time as Assault.  I’m leaning towards “Star Fox gets sent to x planet and has to save it from some evil figure and by doing so, they have to explore the planet and help various groups out to eventually achieve their goal”. Generic but I know if I get too involved with the storytelling... well, it’ll turn into yet another fic idea and I JUST CANNOT HAVE THAT RN lmao 

Safe to say I’d probably invent a completely new villain for it.  I don’t even think I’d use Andrew or Pigma, but maybe grant them each some form of cameo. Star Fox has a great cast but they need a bit more diversity than the same 4 people causing problems lol

[shadlay]

My unnecessary Naruto House Sorting Essay

**Naruto Rookie 9- HP Sorting Hat

**

A dissertation by Shadlay

Part 1- Sorting

“The decision of the Sorting Hat is generally considered to be final, although its decision can be influenced somewhat by the desires of the wearer.  “

“Very rarely a “Hatstall” occurs in which the Sorting Hat takes a long time to decide where to place a student.  “

Sorting the rookie nine from Naruto is sometimes a divisive topic among niche fans, With debate from many angles for each member.

The four houses from the Harry Potter series (Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw) each represent a set of qualities or traits found in first year student. Although at the beginning of the Naruto series, the Rookie Nine are all 12 years old, this is the point in time I will make my judgements on.

This is an important note. By being both their earliest age in story for both HP and Naruto, it is before any character from either story have had much of a chance to reveal their true characteristics.

I will be taking backstories into account where applicable for each character. Although, obviously adapted into the English setting of HP. Only characters with distinct friendships will know each other before meeting (let’s say everyone interacts briefly on the Hogwarts Express)

So Shikamaru and Chouji, Ino and Sakura along with their crush on Sasuke, and Hinata and her crush on Naruto.

Now onto each houses qualities. Direct from the Harry Potter wiki.

Gryffindor- “The Gryffindor house emphasises the traits of courage as well as "daring, nerve, and chivalry," and thus its members are generally regarded as brave, though sometimes to the point of recklessness. “

Though, during the HP series, several negative traits are also shown in Gryffindor characters. Arrogance, and self righteousness.

Ravenclaw- “Ravenclaw House prizes learning, wisdom, wit, and intellect in its members.[4] Thus, many Ravenclaws tend to be academically motivated and talented students. “

“They also pride themselves on being original in their ideas, and methods. It's not unusual to find Ravenclaw students practising especially different types of magic that other houses might shun. “

“Often hard-working and diligent, as often is the case with intellectuals with a predisposition for academics, some of the pupils sorted under the blue-bronzed eagle are known to be inclined to dismiss certain social expectations for the sake of satisfying their own intellectual curiosity. “

“not all Ravenclaws were motivated by academic prowess – the inherent expectations of certain academic prowess that comes with being sorted into it as well as the often somewhat natural ability of its members to gain popularity among their peers”

**Hufflepuff- ** “Students belonging to this house are known to be hard-working, friendly, loyal, honest and rather impartial. It may be that due to their values, Hufflepuffs are not as competitive as the other houses, and are more modest about their accomplishments. “

“Students in Hufflepuff are known to value everyone and treat them as equal. “

“Hufflepuff is the most inclusive among the four houses; valuing hard work, dedication, patience, loyalty, and fair play rather than a particular aptitude in its students. “

S****lytherin- “Slytherins tend to be ambitious, shrewd, cunning, strong leaders, and achievement-oriented. They also have highly developed senses of self-preservation. “

“the qualities which Salazar valued in the students he had chosen included cleverness, resourcefulness, determination, and "a certain disregard for the rules."

While there is some overlap in house qualities, we can make clear distinctions in each houses characteristics.

Ok, let’s get into the fun part.

Part 2- The Rookie Nine’s Placement

Naruto Uzumaki- Gryffindor

Sakura Haruno- Ravenclaw

Sasuke Uchiha- Slytherin

Ino Yamanaka- Slytherin

Shikamaru Nara- Hufflepuff

Chouji Akimichi- Hufflepuff

Hinata Hyuuga- Gryffindor

Kiba Inuzuka- Gryffindor

Shino Aburame- Ravenclaw

Part 3- My Justification

Naruto Uzumaki.

Wow, putting the main character in Gryffindor is real original right? Well, twelve year old Naruto fits in their just right. I’ve seen arguments for Slytherin and Hufflepuff, but here’s why I disagree.

Naruto is an extremely outgoing character, quickly able to form bonds and his main goal is to be acknowledged by everyone. He grew up isolated and unloved, and is desperate for any form of recognition, even playing pranks and causing a messes to gain the attention of others.

So Naruto is not the humble stereotype we give to Hufflepuffs, not to mention his competitive personality, as shown through his interactions with Kiba and Sasuke.

Now why not Slytherin? Twelve year old Naruto is ambitious, seeking his dream of being Hokage, resourceful, in his scrappy fighting style and has a cunning streak. But these actions can also be viewed as brave and reckless.

He’s pretty close between Gryffindor and Slytherin, even to the degree I’d argue he’d be a Hatstall, like Harry himself.

Butttttt, something that will be important throughout this list, is in fact, alphabetical order. People are sorted alphabetically. So our R9 would go in this order.

Aburame Shino

Akimichi Chouji

Haruno Sakura

Hyuuga Hinata

Inuzuka Kiba

Nara Shikamaru

Uchiha Sasuke

Uzumaki Naruto   <-----

Yamanaka Ino

Sasuke goes right before Naruto in this case! Sasuke who is a Slytherin, whom Naruto would certainly already have a grudge against. Their rivalry is the main focus of the Naruto series, so yes, I believe it would affect their sorting.

Naruto’s reaction to the offer of Slytherin? NO THANK YOU!

**Sakura Haruno **

Ah Sakura, the passionate young woman of Naruto. At twelve, she was boy obsessed, studious, and naive to others problems.

Obviously the book smartness of Sakura is an instant hint towards her Ravenclaw nature. Sakura was the only Genin in the written tests of the Chuunin exams to be able to pass through her sheer knowledge.

Early Sakura also lacks the bravery she develops of the course of the series, often floundering in battle and faltering when tough choices need to be made. Her development over the series shows a brave and strong woman grow from this fragile girl, however, I don’t believe that’s something the Sorting Hat would take into account. This is genesis Sakura.

Sakura is a seeker of knowledge through and through. When she realsied she was no help on the battlefield, rather than throw herself into the same training as her peers, she sought out Tsunade and became a medical ninja.

“They also pride themselves on being original in their ideas, and methods. It's not unusual to find Ravenclaw students practising especially different types of magic that other houses might shun. “

Since Sakura would go before both Ino and Sasuke, their placement does not affect her.

Sasuke Uchiha

Ah Sasuke, motivated by his ambition and lust for revenge, even from the age of twelve.

He is a seeker of power, views others as lesser to himself, and those who he sees as stronger, he seeks to surpass. He rejects the help of others, even when their interactions can make him happy.

Sasuke seeks to restore his family (clan), but this obviously does not mean physically restoring them. He seeks to restore the honour that Itachi took from them in his massacre (which I guess in this setting would mean a whole lot of Avada Kedava)

But that is just his motivations? What about his qualities?

They can could be easily spread between the houses.

Hard work? Sasuke trains more than any other member of the R9, and even tailors his diet to build the strongest form he can.

Seeking Knowledge? Sasuke would jump to learn anything that could give him an advantage over everyone else.

Daring and Nerve? He ran straight at Kakashi during their first bell test, aiming to fight him as an equal, when Kakashi was years better than him. Sasuke also initially takes on the leadership role when Kakashi is not present early in the series.

Overall, all Sasuke seeks in early Naruto is power. He wants to be stronger, and why wouldn’t the reputation of Slytherin offer such power? His goals are short sighted, but learning Dark Arts through his more questionable peers ( because lets face it, there’s always someone dodgy in Slytherin) would be the quickest way for him to avenge his family.

Ino Yamanaka

Ino, the confident, the bold, the loyal. So why Slytherin? It’s not ultimately the evil house, so we’re really working on Ino’s traits here. We’re really working with process of elimination here.

Gryffindor and Slytherin share a lot of traits, especially when applied to Ino, but there’s a few things that I’ll get to that lean her more towards the snake side.

She’s not the studious type like Sakura, choosing to cheat of the girl in question than even begin to tackle the written test, and although she seeks to learn medical jutsu later on, it’s done in the name of becoming stronger, but rather to help others and to not let Sakura overtake her.

Her loyalty is also one of her stronger traits, but when it comes to others, she takes on a more submissive supporting role, rather than the fierce defence other’s would say is loyalty. She is kind at heart, and treasures her friends.  

But you know a key event before the series? Sakura dumps her as a friend.

Ino is hurt and prickly after this, choosing to seek the attention of Sasuke, perhaps more so as a rival to Sakura rather than any clear feelings towards the boy.

Ino’s fighting style also reflects a Slytherin nature, as she often makes moves that are considered out of the box for a person such as herself. When she cannot physically best Sakura in their fight she chooses to chop off her hair and run her jutsu through it in a very resourceful move, especially considering the flat and open area.  

In her team she is the first character to take on a leadership role (followed later by Shikamaru and then Chouji). Being considered bossy by her team, she makes bold and expressive manoeuvres against the Sound trio in their brief scuffle.  

But ultimately it comes down to one thing. Ino is sorted last.

The last ‘fuck you’ to Sakura is getting sorted into the same house as Sasuke.

Shikamaru Nara

If there’s anyone I’ve spent hours thinking about, it’s Shikamaru. He’s in my opinion the hardest member of the R9 to place in a house due to both his character and lack of character. The lazy boy who wants to do as little as possible is tough to nail down if you think to hard on it.

As a twelve year old, at a glance, he just wants it easy. Not really a trait that fits in any of the house. But the Sorting Hat can look deeper, and see who he truly is inside (something I’m sure he’d find troublesome). He wants to live an unremarkable life, he has a deep devotion to his friends (in this case, just Chouji for now), a strong moral compass and a sharp, but hidden mind.

So initially, a lot of people would say Ravenclaw. You don’t get smart by just sitting around right?

Well, Shikamaru explicitly admits he doesn’t like to seek out new things. During the pursuit of the Sound Four, he mentions “his dad forced him to read” a book on trap ninjutsu.  Even in later life, he holds to this, as shown in Shikamaru Hiden.

“If you said he wanted to be one of those ninja who practiced vigorously to improve their ninjutsu, you’d be wrong. He certainly never thought about studying medical ninjutsu and becoming a specialist in the vanguard back-up, either. If you said he wanted to be someone with a high rank in encryption or in medical surgery, you’d be wrong too.”

Shikamaru’s intelligence comes from his instinct. To quote Asuma, during their fight with Hidan:

“Shikamaru has a brilliant, swift analytical prowess that lets him see the next 200 moves, and the instinct to pick the right one”

Ok, what about Gryffindor or Slytherin? He’s clever, resourceful, chivalrous and has a strong nerve. But you know what?

Shikamaru doesn’t value that part of himself. He calls himself a coward. He’d rather play possum than get in a dangerous fight. He refuses to hit women, but bonks their heads into walls and jokes about punching Tayuya when she changes form.

It’s not until he’s accepted the responsibility of being a Chuunin that he starts embracing these traits. The Sorting Hat can’t see the future, it knows they are there, but the same can be said of everyone.

So what does he value? Chouji. Chouji and Shikamaru are very loyal to each other, both willing to risk their life for the other, with the utmost confidence in the other. It doesn’t matter if he’s fat or ‘weak’ like others say, he is his best friend.

Chouji is before Shikamaru in the ceremony. Shikamaru wants to be in the same house as Chouji.

The hat sees traits in all the houses, but ultimately, Shikamaru gets to influence its choice.

He picks the easiest one.

Chouji Akimichi

Ahh the sweet Chouji. The kind, the caring. Strengths not considered strong by a teenage boy, but valued by everyone else. He has a short temper when his weight or Shikamaru is insulted, but is otherwise a mild and gentle boy.

Chouji is distinct in Naruto to be one of the last characters to truly realise their power. What he lacked in confidence, he made up for with his bonds.

So Chouji is a textbook Hufflepuff, all you’d need to tell him is that the dormitories are next to the kitchens and he’s in.

We’re talking about the boy who nearly killed (by taking the red pill and crushing Jiroubo in one blow) himself because someone called his friend ‘ a shadow loving depressing moron.”

**Hinata Hyuuga **

Hinata is a bit of an oddball. Soft spoken, shy, polite to a fault. She dislikes confrontation altogether.

She’s also noted to be a very supportive person, tending to her teammates and Naruto, being inspired by them. She works hard to overcome her flaws and doesn’t give up in the face of adversity.

So why did I pick Gryffindor? Why not Hufflepuff?

Because of her first real establishing moment. Her fight with Neji. Someone she knew she could never win against. She cried when he belittles her, but in the end she gives her all in that losing battle. Her heart got damaged, and even during the battle her arms was covered in spots from her chakra being sealed off.

If that’s not bravery, I don’t know what is.

Hinata is also bold enough to choose not the path her family dictates for her, but the one she made, of following Naruto.

Hinata doesn’t get sorted before Naruto, but the Sorting Hat sees what she’s willing to do for her dreams.

**Inuzuka Kiba **

Kiba, poor Kiba. One of the least developed members, second only to the last person on this list.

With so little to go on, Kiba is a boastful, impulsive and proud young man. He’s fiercely loyal to initially Akamaru, and later on his friends. He’s considered a ‘problem child’ by his mentors, takes charge of his team right off the bat and feels threatened by Shino’s advice, claiming he’s trying to take charge.

Kiba is also pretty chummy, finding it easy to get along with people he likes, like Hinata, and later on Naruto. He gets frustrated when Naruto overtakes him, but still views himself as a worthy rival.

Kiba is such a wild, fierce and impulsive character, its hard to see him in any other house.

Shino Aburame

Shino has always been a bit of an outsider, even among his friends. Even with his teammates he holds himself at arms length and keeps his personal problems to himself. He also holds grudges like no other.

Side character for life, his goals, dreams and personality beyond what is shown is hard to grasp. Heck, his Infinite Tsukiyomi dream was to discover a new breed of giant insect.

Shino embodies the side of Ravenclaw that represents eccentricity. He gets called ‘creepy’, refuses to show more than his calm persona to others and he’s nitpicky when it comes to others.

I chose to put him in Ravenclaw, simply because no other house seems to embrace his quirky nature. I believe the hat would sort him there so he could grow in a house that has other members with such personality, where he’d be free to grow and learn in an environment free of judgement.

Conclusion

Well, that was a few hours well wasted!

Although I think I’ve made some strong arguments, I’d love to hear your feedback in the comments. It’s such a divisive subject with many interpretations.

Heck if you have anything to say at all on the subject I’d love to hear it.

Thank You for reading :D

[jancys-blue-bayou]

Smutty fic where Jancy is in college and Jonathan has a shitty professor who treats him like he's a kid and he comes home so frustrated and Nancy has to help him relax

A/N: Thanks for the prompt!

Also on Ao3

He’s in a bit of a mood, she can tell as soon as he walks into the apartment. After all these years together she can read him pretty good, just like he can her. Even before she lays eyes on him she knows he’s frustrated and a little angry. It’s enough just to hear him close the front door with a bit more force than normal, hear him kick off his scuffed Converse and even the way he takes his jacket off and hangs it on the rack. It’s all done more forcefully than normal. It’s not like he’s slamming things but he’s usually so soft and gentle in the way he carries himself that the slightest change is noticeable to her. When he walks into the living room she can see how drained he looks. The corners of his mouth briefly turn upward as he first lays his eyes on her where she’s lounging on the couch in just her panties and his red flannel shirt which is so comfortable.

“Hey,” he mumbles.

“Hey,” she mirrors, sitting up. “What’s up? Long day? Bad day?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, shuffling over to the couch and dropping down next to her in it, leaning back into the cushions. “How was your day?”

“Good. Better now, I missed you,” she answers. She reaches out and plays with the hair at the back of his neck.

“Ugh, I missed you so much,” he groans, shutting his eyes briefly and relaxing into her touch.

“So what happened?” She prods.

“Nothing. Just… I hate Mr. Bradshaw so much…”

“He’s the one you have for art history right?”

“Yeah. He’s such a stuffy snob. And he thinks I’m dumb. Treats me like a kid it feels like.”

“How?”

“He doesn’t think photography is ‘real art’ or whatever. The class is on modernism and post-modernism but all he talks about is paintings and a few installations, like Duchamp or whatever, but he’s not said one word about photography at all, in any of the lectures. Or well, just in relation to 'real art’, like how the invention of photography made painters shift away from realistic portraits to other stuff but he hasn’t said a word about photography as art. So I finally had to raise my hand and just ask what he thought of the importance of photographers in modern art, since he doesn’t mention them. And he just chuckled at me and said that since there’s not enough time to go through the entirety of modern art he’s focusing on the important bits that’s influenced it the most. So I raised my hand again and said that photography is important in art and that it’s weird to not include it at all. And he just rolled his eyes and said he’d rather focus on the really influential artists and not some little niche… so I said art photography isn’t some little niche, that it’s important. And he laughed again and asked if anyone could name an artist, not a journalist or documentarian, using photography as his mode of expression, and no one said anything since everyone’s scared of him and he got this self-satisfied smirk when no one said anything so I just named a couple like Sally Mann and Anne Leibowitz and he kept smirking and when I mentioned Robert Mapplethorpe he laughed out loud and said he personally wouldn’t count 'some queer porn’ as art and then he said that he knows that I 'likes to run around with my little camera’ which apparently is 'a fine hobby’ but it doesn’t mean photography is 'real art’ or at least not influential enough to warrant being discussed on the course and that he himself prefers to go to MoMA to look at art 'rather than the pages of Rolling Stone or some seedy back alley locale in Queens which young Mr. Byers maybe prefers’. And everyone stared at me then and he moved on to drone on more about Picasso or whatever. So he thinks I’m an idiot and had to make me look like one or a creep or whatever and ugh, this sucks. Plus he’s going to grade me later!”

She listens intently to Jonathan’s stream-of-consciousness, growing more and more incensed the more she hears.

“Well, he’s the idiot not you,” she starts.

He shrugs and looks away so she turns his head towards her, making him look at her.

“Seriously, what an ass! Where does the crummy old geezer live? I just wanna talk to him…”

Jonathan gives her a small smirk in response.

“Upper West Side or something probably,” he rolls his eyes.

“Bet. Seriously I wanna smack him for speaking to you like that. And you were totally right! Of course photography is art, and if you don’t include it in your class on modern art your class sucks! And he’s ignorant, he can shut up about his MoMA stuff, we go to MoMA too! But we go both there and to the place in Queens and I for one thought Mapplethorpe’s exhibit was way cooler than what we saw at MoMA.”

“Me too. But just… ugh. He treats me like an idiot and I sure feel like one when he talks down to me like that…” Jonathan mutters and lols his head back into the back cushions, closing his eyes.

“Well you’re not,” she says. He doesn’t respond. She resolves to climbing into his lap. He opens his eyes when he feels her bare thighs straddle him. She locks her arms around his neck. His automatically go to her sides. “You’re not,” she insists and kisses him.

She’s determined to rid him of this mood, of the bad, wildly incorrect thought that he’s an idiot. She really wants to give that jackass a piece of her mind but most of all she wants to remind Jonathan of how awesome he is and make him feel better.

“You’re a genius,” she tells him before kissing him again. “You would do a better job of teaching that class yourself. You know more about art than he does since you don’t exclude a whole mode like he does. You’re super smart. You got into Tisch and you’re crushing it. And your GPA was as good as mine and that means you’re super smart because you said I’m super smart so.” Another kiss. She really can’t get enough of the feel of his lips against hers. “And talented. You make art. And it’s amazing. You’re so good, you see things no one else sees and you capture it perfectly.”

Another kiss.

“And you’re brave. You fight monsters with me. You save the world with me. You’ll stare down any danger to protect me, Will, your mom. You’re brave all the time, you dare to speak up for yourself, like today. Not everyone does that.”

Kiss.

“You’re strong. So strong. You’d carry the whole world on your shoulders for us if we asked. You endured Lonnie, you took it all from him to shield Will, to protect him. You’ve always taken care of Will, and your mom. And you take care of me, you do everything for me.”

Kiss.

“You’re kind. You’re the best person in the world ever. You take care of us so good and you make us so happy. Just being with you makes me the happiest person in the world. You’re so good, so kind, to everyone who deserves it. I know you haven’t believed me when I’ve told you this in the past but I’m serious when I say that my friends are jealous of me because I have you. They see how you are, how you treat me and they want that too. Really, they’ve literally told me. When Andrea whined about how hard it is to find someone I said it couldn’t be that bad and she said it was easy for me to say because I already had the perfect guy locked up. And Erica, Josie and Lori all said that what they want in a guy is basically you. Polly thinks I got the last good man in the world. Seriously, have you noticed how many sucky guys there are out there in the world? And how you are the complete opposite of them all? You are a catch, Jonathan. You’re the best and I’m never letting you slip away and I love you more and more each day and-”

He kisses her, deeper than the short sweet kisses she kept pressing to his lips. It takes her breath away. That’s amazing too, how he’s still able to take her breath away with just a kiss. But it’s never just a kiss with Jonathan. It’s everything.

“I love you,” he murmurs against her lips when they finally break apart for air.

“You’re also the best kisser in the world. Granted I haven’t kissed many but I can’t imagine someone else beating this,” she says when she’s regained her breath and presses her lips to his again. He eagerly responds. She slips her tongue in between his lips and he meets it with his and it makes her heart speed up as always.

“And you’re beautiful,” she murmurs between kisses, stroking her thumb across his cheek as they continue making out.

She slips her tongue in his mouth again and grinds against him a little. He moans into her mouth. She can feel his stiffness pressing againt her thigh. Feeling him pressing against her, hearing him moan and knowing it’s all because of her, she loves that. And it really turns her on, feeling him against her. She grinds more and is rewarded with more soft moans.

“And you’re fucking hot,” she whispers in his ear.

“You…” he starts but is sidetracked when she grinds against him yet again. After another moan has escaped his lips he finishes his sentence. “…are.”

His hands roam up the front of the flannel shirt she’s wearing. He glances up at her for confirmation, she excitedly nods and he starts unbuttoning her shirt. When it falls open, revealing her nude breasts right away since she didn’t have a bra on underneath his eyes bulge out.

“Oops,” she jokes.

She shrugs the shirt off completely. He pulls her in closer to him and buries his face against her chest. She’s very happy to push herself up towards him, cradling his head and stroking his hair as he kisses her left boob. When he gently suckles her nipple it is she who moans loudly. She’s very sensitive in this area and he knows just how to treat her, to make her feel good, to absolutely drive her wild. He plays with his lips and tongue over her breasts until both her nipples point out hard, and not for a cold room, and her panties have gotten a wetness she wonders if he can feel through his jeans. Jeans, why is he still wearing those? Time to rid him of them. She tugs on his sweater, pulling it over his head. She lets out a pleased, giddy noise at the sight of his naked torso and runs her hands over his broad shoulders and chest.

When she slides out of his lap down to the floor he lets out a tiny noise of displeasure as her body gets off of his. When she while on her knees unbuttons his fly though his mouth forms into an O. She can’t get over the fact that he still gets that look every time she goes down on him, even after all these years and the countless times she’s done it. She tugs on his jeans and he’s quick to lift himself up slightly so she can pull them and his underwear fully off. His cock glistens with precum and she wets her lips.

She takes his hard cock in one hand and his soft hand in the other. They often hold hands during sex, it’s just intimate and nice. She especially loves to do it when she’s blowing him. To feel how his grip of her hand tightens when she puts her lips to the tip and takes him in her mouth. He gasps and his fingers loosens and then tightens over hers as she sucks down on him. She looks up at him and sees him staring down at her in awe. His other hand reaches out and tucks some loose strands of hair behind her ear, a sweet gesture. He keeps the hand in her hair, playing a little with it while she sucks his cock.

“Nance,” he moans after a few minutes and gently tugs her hand upwards, to him. “I can’t take much more,” he gets out. She slowly pulls back, letting her lips run up the length of his cock until it pops out of her mouth. She smiles at him, she knew.

Still holding his hand she gets up off her knees, assisted by him. Standing up she swiftly pulls her wet panties off with her other hand. With a smirk she shoves them into his hand.

“This is because of you,” she informs him in a low, husky voice. He blushes.

When she straddles him again he quickly tosses her panties aside and puts a hand on each of her hips while she holds onto his shoulders with one hand and steers his cock to her pussy with the other. Slowly, gently she sinks down. Their separate moans merges into one and the same it feels like, sounds like. She starts to ride him.

With her arms around his shoulders she leans in close again, wanting to be as close to him as she possibly can. He cups her butt with one hand, putting the other to her back to hold her close. He buries his face in her chest again. When he takes her nipple between his lips again while she continues to ride him she makes a falsetto noise she feels it’s best they ignore. Or maybe not as it seems to spur him on further as he suckles the nipple.

“Fuck, Jonathan, I love you so fucking much,” she mumbles, running her fingers through his hair while he keeps playing with her nipple and she keeps riding his cock.

It’s just perfection, it’s bliss, being with him. She wants to always be this close to him. Always be in his arms, in his lap. Moaning in tandem with him as they together climb higher and higher and higher until they reach a plateau where all is right with the world because the whole entire world is just them, only them and they are together like this.

They cum together like a damn dirty Beatles song. Her pussy squeezing around his cock, squeezing every last drop out of him. She remains in his lap after as they pant together, clinging to each other.

“You’re the best,” she eventually gets out.

He cups her cheek and gives her a sweet kiss.

“You are.”

[tothewaterhq]

VEGA NERO // SCORE OF 10

The Gamemakers were confused. They had called her name. For all they knew she was in the room. But Vega Nero had disappeared from sight.

Suddenly, a knife flew from above their heads, and a cloud of black and brown dust formed in the air. But besides the cloud, nothing. No sounds, no movements.

Several minutes of silence, curiosity. Then, suddenly, on the opposite end of the training center, a cloud of blue and green erupting with a surprise. But the tribute was still nowhere to be found, even after that dust had settled.

Once again, waiting. Silence. Tension. She’d set up the final bags of powder at the beginning, and they watched those bags and waited in anticipation to see where the last knife would come from. Searched the room with their eyes to find the tribute. But a clanging sound gave way from a random corner of the training center, and they all whipped their heads to see what had caused it, to see if she had stumbled in the middle of this training session. Given herself away on accident. But still nothing but a pile of fallen metal arrows. And, immediately after that sound had adequately distracted them, pink and yellow clouds erupted into the air.

Of course she’d had her skills showcase practiced for months. It was a performance, more or less. How entertaining could she make a presentation of her talents be? Buildup, climax, finale. All the elements of a good story, a good dance, a good performance.

Vega entered the room, moving a practice dummy immediately into the center. In clear sight. She then walked over to the camouflage area, pulling out bags of powdered paint and natural materials, leaving the large bags of brown and black powder at the table and taking four other bags. Blue and green she left in a second location, and pink and yellow she left in a third before making her way to weaponry. Her eyes glazed over the various blades and swords, ignoring the larger pieces before selecting a small, particularly sharp dagger and strapping it to her upper arm. Then a sleeve of throwing knives, strapped to her waist. That was all she needed. That, and clearance towards any station she needed within the training center.

Because the Gamemakers sat on a raised platform above the rest of the arena, they lost sight of Vega when she walked to the wall underneath their viewing area.

They expected her to walk away again in a few seconds’ time, or to throw something from under the wall, but when she hadn’t emerged after a small while, one peered over the platform to discover that she was no longer there. Vanished.

In truth, Vega had decided now was the time to break out her acrobatic training. Keeping her breath slow and quiet, she had grabbed onto ridges in the wall and begun climbing them, making her way up and around the niche in which the Gamemakers sat and observed the tributes. She continued going, high enough so she was over the top of them, standing on a ledge not three inches wide above the ceiling of the Gamemakers’ observation deck. In just the right spot to get a clear shot at the camouflage station, and the bags of powdered paint and natural material that sat there.

The Gamemakers jumped when a knife came flying out not from under their platform, but above it, slicing through the bags of brown and black powder and causing the material to fly up into the air, creating a small cloud.

Now was the time for Vega to take advantage of her small size. Quickly, she maneuvered again around the Gamemakers’ niche and leapt quietly onto the floor, through the cloud so none of the other people in the room could see her. She let herself be coated in black and brown and hid again behind the climbing net, where it would have been difficult to see her even through the holes in the net.

Silence. Let the tension build. Let the Gamemakers get comfortable again. Stay out of sight.

And then another knife flew, not from above their viewing platform as the first one had and as they were expecting, but from behind the climbing station. This one breaking open the bags of blue and green and the rotation of the knife letting those powders form another cloud over the center.

Vega darted through again, letting these colors coat her skin and ducking and jumping through small spaces to stay hidden until she made it to the survival station, letting the blue and green hide her among the environmental setup.

Again, silence. The cloud settled. She was still nowhere to be seen, hiding in a synthetic setup of shrubs near a collection of tent-making materials. The Gamemakers had not seen her in person since she disappeared below the wall. Vega could wait again and set off those last bags that were sitting there, waiting for her while the Gamemakers tried to figure out where she would be coming from. But that was predictable now. They were clearly watching those bags, waiting for the knife to coming flying out to form the last clouds.

No. Vega turned towards the archery setup, getting a good look at the rack of delicately arranged arrows with the bow sitting nicely underneath them. They were metal. These would make a nice loud sound.

The third knife went straight towards the arrows, causing all of them to bang into each other and coming clanging down onto the ground in a loud ruckus. The Gamemakers whipped their heads over to see if she had stumbled into the station, and as soon as they did, she turned her body towards the final bags, and let the fourth throwing knife fly.

As soon as the pink and yellow dust clouds formed in the air, Vega slipped her way behind the practice dummy, pulling out the sharp knife and slicing its head off. She left the blade embedded in the dummy’s chest cavity while the dust fell to the floor.

Finally, the Gamemakers saw her. Standing, leaning against the dummy with its head under her arm like a soccer ball, coated in layers of colored dust and paint, Vega Nero was spotted for the first time since her setup, finally appearing through the vanishing cloud of dust. Silent and deadly.

She gave the Gamemakers a smile and tossed the head to a Peacekeeper before skipping out of the room, smiling and confident as always.

[royal-writer]

Fear of Falling

As good as you make me feel I wanna make you feel better Better than your fairy tales Better than your best dreams You're more than everything I need You're all I ever wanted All I ever wanted

This is a terrible plan. She chewed on her lower lip, light golden brown eyes darting from one teammate to the next. Splitting up? Nothing about that sounded good. She was used to the numbers; the certainty of backup and readily available allies with different niches and talents. It didn’t matter how ‘equally’ they tried to spread the castors to the armor clad fighters of the group, it still didn’t feel… right.

Because she cared. She worried. They were her friends. They were… family.

And you didn’t split up family. It felt like leaving people behind. It left a hollow in your chest; radiating into your soul like echoes off a canyon wall. It felt like you were already handing them off to another fate. You wouldn’t be there to grasp their hands. You couldn’t be there to protect them.

Her eyes moved to Abernathy, eyebrows drawn together with concern. He clapped a hand gently to her shoulder with a heartfelt smile.

“We have the Earrings of Whisper. We’ll be in touch,” he assured her, seeing the reluctance in her face. “You’ve nothing to fear.”

Nothing to fear, he said. Nothing to fear. How could he say that? He couldn’t possibly see the fear reflected from the depths of her being. The terror. The worry. The concern. Fearing the loneliness; the lifestyle she lived with before this. Alone. Isolated. Scared. Yes, she was afraid; deeply afraid for them all. They were obnoxious and at times overbearing, but they were still her allies. What if someone got hurt? Lost? No. No she would not allow herself to think of the worst alternative, it made her throat tighten and churned the acid in her stomach into turmoil.

She couldn’t lose them, too. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

As the Paladin stepped aside, leaving her staring after him blankly, Lord Amon squeezed by him. He wore a gentle, sympathetic smile. It was hazy outlined expression; the focus of her gaze on the retreating elder man instead with his back to her. The ruffled strands of black hair casting shadows across the nobleman’s face, and obscuring his dark eyes.

She ran her tongue over her lips nervously.

“Essätha-”

“You had all better come back,”she hoarsely whispered towards Abernathy’s behind. Her hands wrung. She could not meet the Briarton Lord’s gaze.

She didn’t react as a rough hand brushed her face. She didn’t respond as it moved to pause; stopping to cradle the side of her face.

He leaned in. Lips grazed her cheek. Hardly worth of being called a kiss, it was so faint and delicate. The scraggle of his beard brushing her jawline. A warm dizziness overcame her. She lost her breath; the smell of rose water and musky earth trapped in her nose and burning her lungs. The inky depths of his gaze momentarily meeting hers as she searched his face with her jaw hanging and mouth parted.

“Stay safe.” Amon’s voice was grating. Coarser than his hands; filled with his own shock.

He stepped away; the swish of his cloak dragging against the ground briefly. It reset his reaction to breathe, and as she did his cologne fogged her mind. She saw a halo of light around him; cast perfectly by the angle of the sun’s rays. It was enough to take her breath away all over again.

“Come back,” she murmured. It didn’t carry, thankfully. He was too far gone; right behind Adela and Penimra. Too far from her hands. Unworthy hands to touch someone so beloved and endearing.

Her lungs expanded once more. Inhaling. Exhaling.

“Come back to me.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sulhadur and Abernathy clasped hands before her. Relieved expressions in their eyes. Pri’cha seemed just as eager to greet their fellow companions; grasping hands with all four of their appendages at once in greeting. The only part of her team that seemed calm and unaffected by the reunion was Rava; who although pleased to see everyone, hung back to offer encouraging words and a nice handshake or wave here and there.

She watched. Inspecting them all as they walked around. Surveying for wounds among her pack.

The silhouette of Lord Amon’s shadow fell in her direction. As she turns towards it, her eyes captured the lopsided grin he offered her. A tussle about his hair like it had been ruffled recently by hand or breeze. His approach much like a lion; prideful, steady, confident.

Her heartbeat skipped and sputtered.

“Are you okay?” Relief. Relief in his voice but intent. A knowing. Masks were easy to display. Injuries could be far worse than simply upon the flesh. The worst kind of wounds were embedded in your spirit. They ate at your identity.

Wordlessly her mouth worked. She tried to find the ability to speak, but nothing came.

He was striking. Elegant and suave with just enough ruggedness to make your insides quiver and melt. It was easy to be attracted to his sharp good looks. It wasn’t so easy to fall for the man, when he held up a wall between himself and who he really was. A shroud of mystery. But once you got inside; once he let down those barriers and allowed himself to show in all his colors, there was no denial or struggle.

All his quirks and his charm; his ludicrous sense of humor and lighthearted teasing oh gods, he made it too easy. He was layers of the atmosphere. Storms and sunny skies, the frosty snow and the twilight filled with starshine. Ever-changing into something new. No two experiences quite alike. No two moods quite the same.

Amon raised an eyebrow at her. Confusion was written into the concern on his face.

It was a stupid, selfish impulse. He was just close enough.

Grabbing the collar of his jerkin in his hands, she tugged him forward while inclining in on her tiptoes. The nobleman went wide-eyed as her lips formed to his. Firm at first then yielding; her lips moving against his.

He grunted deep in his throat with alarm.

Idiot. She’d misinterpreted the previous kiss. It was friendly and a bit awkward but she’d thought… Or maybe she’d just hoped…

Letting go of the garment, she settled back on the flats of her shoes. Amon gaped at her like a fish out of water, with splotches of red dispersed randomly over his features.

She was a damn fool.

Color flushed her face. She moved to step back, brushing loose tresses of her locks out of her face while turning away. Stupid. She swallowed thickly. Oh gods, what had she done. What did she expect? For him to kiss her back? He must think she was insane. What the hell was going to happen now? Would he leave? Put her down gently or stomp this into the dirt before it was too late? Or was it already too late? Fuck, if only she hadn’t-

“Essie.”

Conflicting emotions riddled his tone. Astonishment, being the key factor. And her mind dared to think… want.

“Look at me.”

It was a plea, not a command.

She barely turned her face towards him; stomach in fearful knots and lashes low.

He held her face suddenly but carefully, and planted his lips on hers.

Every nerve in her body responded. She could feel the tingles shoot through her like an electrical current. Heat pooled into her bloodstream. Magma moving just beneath the surface. Every inch of her was saturated with him; his aroma, his eyelashes skimming her face as they closed, his palms cupping her cheeks with care. The whisper of his beard tickled her skin. She was wrapped in security and patience. Snuggled in respect and compassion. It was an innocent kiss. No passionate craze, no wild illusions, no rush. Soft, unbelievably tender, and giving. Intimate.

She moved with him, letting him dictate the details. Synchronizing to his cues; sinking deeper and deeper into the feelings and craving she’d been swallowing for months. This was better than any dream. He tasted better than any fantasy; midnight skies and a strong drink that left you drunk and craving more.

Amon tore himself away first, gasping. Her pulse was thunder in her ears, drowning out the quiet murmurs of her friends standing around. Some of them were staring, slack-jawed, and others appeared amused or gleeful to see the pair of them close.

Their eyes locked, and began to move over each other. His nostrils flared as he panted for air. The pad of his thumbs rubbed against her cheeks rhythmically. It was almost enough to make her purr. Desire began to creep up from the gutter to loom over like a predator. And she could see the very same rise beginning to mirror in the way the nobleman looked at her. He didn’t have to say a single word. It crackled in the air around them; almost a pliable sensation.

Where the hell did they go from here?

And what did this attraction mean for their friendship going forward?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A moan tumbled out of her as Amon anchored her back to the door, raising her thigh to encourage her to wrap a leg around his waist. The angle was utterly too perfect. His erection even beneath the layers of his clothes ground against her undergarments. It was erotic as it was maddening. So close but still so far; furthering her arousal against her damp heat.

Gods how many times had she imagined just this sort of scenario? Those callused hands groping beneath her shirt as he pushed it up, his mouth leaving steamy hot kisses against her throat. She had to fumble with all his damn garb meanwhile; but the reward was worth it. When her fingernails scrapped his abdomen, he growled her name low and husky close to her ear.

The anticipation was overwhelming. She’d already seen him shirtless plenty of times, but this time she could roam with her hands and not just her eyes. And there was some other areas her whirlwind of dark libidinous thoughts couldn’t help but draw up with fascinated intrigue. An entirely new region to explore and admire.

His name exit her in a broken sigh as a hand finally weaseled up enough of her rumbled shirt to find her breast. The sweep of his thumb over her budded nipple left her keening for more, swallowing the anxious lump forming in her throat.

She didn’t know what to feel. Torn between the chemistry; the longing, the hunger that wanted to romp in the sack, and the connected emotional depth. Their relationship already was too valuable to her. What if this was all he wanted?

Could she just… accept that idea? Nevermind her feelings?

Teeth glazed over her pulse point and her breath faltered further. The rumble of his laughter vibrated from his chest into hers as he pressed closer. The heat of his torso and curls of his chest hair against her own made goosebumps rise on her arms.

What if this wasn’t enough for him? What if she wasn’t enough?

Her anxiety finally found its way to her voicebox, and she squeaked before uttering a high-pitched and frightful: “S-Stop.”

Her chest rose and fell. Amon frozen; a statue pressed into her curves so wonderfully that their every contour was fused. His mouth, just against the swell of her breast, slowly retracted as dropped her leg so her foot touched the ground.

“Alright.” Deep. Still gravely with sensuality. “Alright.”

There was a flicker of reluctance in his expression as he pulled away respectfully. They were both too disheveled and too close to nudity for it to be appear a formal situation, yet despite the tension in the air, it appeared so. Amon stood poised and dignified, his hands to himself as he looked into her eyes. His presence was all calm and understanding. No implication in his body language or gaze otherwise said he was trying to sway whatever she said next.

Pressing her lips together, they formed a hard white line. She relaxed her expression after a moment, glancing away.

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

Silence. The nobleman opened his mouth to speak, but she was ahead of him.

“I can’t just-” she struggled, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I like you. A lot. And I appreciate you, m’lord, more than I can put into words. But as much as I want to, I can’t… risk my feelings. I can’t just settle for a one-night fling. You mean more to me than that.”

While trying to collect her next words, Amon made a soft scoffing noise at her. She dared to glance up to him, pursing her lips together worringly.

“You don’t think I have feelings for you, Essätha?” he crooned softly. The roughness of his hands found her hips, and she exhaled deeply with surprise. It wasn’t sensual, it was comforting as he pulled her in closer in a sincere embrace.

“I…” Her mouth worked stupidly. She fumbled, swallowing while trying to grasp at something to say.

“I’m not looking for a one-night stand,” he concluded. He was too close. She was falling into the depths of his eyes. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to resurface.

She didn’t really want to.

“You’re not?” she strangled to say.

He shook his head slowly, gaze smoldering.

Her mouth opened, closed, and opened again to rasp: “You like me?”

The sound that escaped him was a choked sort of laughter that came out like someone fighting for their dying breath. Her face turned even more red in reaction.

“Has it not been obvious, melitse?”

“Has mine?” she taunted back, leaning into the circumference of his body once more.

The grin he offered in reply was sheepish. It went well with the flushed color on his cheeks.

“I didn’t want to assume…”

She pitied the discomfort in his voice. The weariness. The concern. Truly, she understood all too well. Fearful of being wrong; even more scared that revealing the depth of her feelings would send him packing. Losing a friend she trusted so dearly made her heart ache just to consider.

Alleviated, she pressed a chaste, affectionate kiss lightly upon his mouth.

“Well now, you don’t need to consider, because I’m right here,” she mused in a sultry voice. Her hands ghosted over his chest, reveling in the way he shivered against her barely-there touch. She flashed him a grin of lewd implications. “And although you are very handsome, m’lord, I quite like the charming, witty, dependable, kind, intelligent man I’ve come to know. It’ll be fun to see what creative ideas you might be hiding.”

Amon’s pupils blew at the implication. He inhaled raggedly, dragging her in to mold against her chest as her rear moved to lean back against the door.

“I believe I have a fair imagination,” he vowed thickly, his mouth moving against hers as he spoke.

She grinned, running her tongue against the seams of his lips.

“Perfect.”

[aion-rsa]

The Secrets of Marvel’s Eternals

https://ift.tt/2Z6GLNH

This article contains Eternals spoilers.

It’s not hard, when a Captain America or an Iron Man movie hits, for Marvel to have a comic on shelves that new fans can be pointed toward as an accessible way to get to know the characters. The same can’t be said for The Eternals. In a lot of ways, Jack Kirby’s most bizarre creations – god-like beings, created by the all-powerful Celestials to do battle with the deformed, wild Deviants – have endured despite their relative scarcity. The sum total of what can be reasonably called Eternals stories only runs to about 50 issues. So the task of centering them ahead of their big movie debut in November is both a blessing and a curse, even with an all-star cast and an Oscar-winning director at the helm. 

Enter Kieron Gillen.

Gillen is a Marvel veteran and no stranger to the company’s cultural juggernaut side. Counted among his greatest hits are a long run with Kid Loki in Journey into Mystery, a thematic touchstone for the MCU’s biggest television show to date. And he authored what is likely going to be an important comic to the MCU going forward in Young Avengers. When he’s not creating the source material for potential future blockbusters, Gillen is fairly skilled at playing with mythology: his creator-owned book for Image Comics, The Wicked + The Divine (co-created with his Young Avengers collaborators, Jamie McKelvie and Matt Wilson) mashed-up pantheons from around the world with pop music culture, and was a smash success. So Gillen was a natural choice to set on the weirdness of Eternals. 

For this new series, Gillen finds himself teamed with a pack of superstars on his Eternals relaunch – Esad Ribic, one of the most talented and epic line artists who’s ever worked in comics; Eisner winner Wilson on colors; and beloved star letterer Clayton Cowles lettering and doing the data page design work. We had a chance to chat with Gillen about his approach to the concept and what he’s got coming next.

Den of Geek: Late period Kirby stuff is pretty dense and odd, and generally tough to follow up on. I know Eternals is something that’s only spottily been touched through the course of Marvel history since he did it and usually to great effect. What was your first principle coming into this to make sure that you weren’t flattening the Eternals concept into just another superhero book, and at the same time, keeping it friendly to new readers who might have had limited exposure?

Kieron Gillen: My actual approach is very much the opposite, in terms of trying to flatten it into a cape book, because I think when they flatten into a cape book, they lose any point of existing. The Marvel Universe is such a busy place…a lot of the niches are filled.It’s like, if you were at DC, you couldn’t, for example, make a new hero, who is the paragon of all that’s good and everyone in America really likes him, because that’s Superman’s job. In any of these highly populated universes, you’ve got to look at, “Okay, how can I make them different? How can I find something that’s really just them?” So my approach is much more into drilling down to what makes them weird, what makes them different for audiences. And also things that have been implicit in the concept, I can perhaps put a spin on and make it even moreso.

One of the core things originally that I looked at is how when Kirby originally created Eternals, it wasn’t really for the Marvel Universe. They were folded in, and the work done by generations of creators there has been really interesting. But they sit differently in a universe where there’s actually gods, because their entire thing was they are people who have been mistaken for gods, and were actually aliens. There’s very much riffing on the 1970s Chariot of the Gods-ness of it all. Except of course, if you’ve got a universe where you’ve actually got gods, that starts to fray at the edges.

So what was a niche in the Marvel Universe that isn’t filled by the gods? I ended up with the idea that, if you actually look at it, even in the original Kirby stories, they’re people who’ve been mistaken for gods. In reality, they are a species of eternal unchanging immortal beings who have been created by actual space gods (the Celestials that are the gods  in this metaphor) in eternal battle with these demon-like creatures [Deviants]. 

I picked up some of the stuff that Neil Gaiman added to the concept, in terms of their immortality. Eternal is a very different word. You talk to certain theologians, there’s a debate whether angels have free will. Humans probably do. I’m not a theologian so don’t trust me on this, but the idea of whether angels have free will is a much more interesting question in lots of different ways. So I leaned into the idea that Eternals are angels. They’ve got this job and their job is to protect us, or at least the Earth, from demons. I pushed them into those elements, so all that stuff is very much let’s make them more weird. 

My broad theory is with DC characters the problem is the world. They are beautiful and perfect people who are facing a world that is corrupt. So Batman’s life is fine and then his parents were killed. Wonder Woman is sent as an ambassador to this warlike species of man. I think Wonder Woman is an interesting one to compare to because the closest Marvel character is really Thor. Thor is somebody who was sent to Earth because he was an arrogant shit [laughs]. To save the world, yes, but he is also the problem. So for me, the heart of Marvel characters, even though they try to save the world, they’re also the problem.

And for me, the Eternals didn’t really have that, and that’s why I’ve led to this idea that there’s this awful secret that when they die, they have to take a life to carry on living. And that’s, at least, one reason why Ikaris had to be my lead. Because Ikaris is such a good guy and the idea of, “Wait, when I do stuff, it’s not just my life I’m risking.” I know it’s not something [he’s] going to move past easily. He’s clearly going to be guilty, dealing with this for a very long time and there’s the relationship with the family and all that kind of element. And that seemed to be really interesting, especially because, and this goes into other areas with more Eternals, is that I always wanted them to be a society.

A lot of the Eternals don’t care. They’re ambivalent about this and in some ways they’re the bad gods. The idea of the Eternals includes people with very different ideas and yes, their job is to protect the Earth, but that doesn’t necessarily mean protecting humans. 

I’m fascinated by the comparison to angels because where they’re left at the end of issue six is very much a Paradise Lost situation where, not only are they fallen, but they’ve decided to cast themselves down. That brings Thanos in conceptually too. What was the most mentally complicated part to integrating Thanos into this new Eternals mythology for you? Because he’s more an external force of nature in the broader history of the Marvel Universe than he is really tightly aligned with Eternals history. But now with the Deviant stuff and the fallen Eternals, he feels much more integral to the concept than he used to.

When you think about Eternals, we’ve got the original Kirby stuff and then the generations of creators that have tried to integrate them in different ways into the Marvel Universe. It’s notable that some of the best stuff in Eternals has become everyone’s stuff, like the Celestials. But the Celestials are such a great fit. They’re one of the best visuals in all of Marvel. So many different people have touched on this connection between the Eternals and Thanos, [but] not much has ever really been done with it.

One of the aims for Eternals was to take continuity and turn it into mythology. So I was looking at all that 40 years of comics and trying to work out okay, let’s pretend they were all made by one person and it was all one big fabric. The creation of Thanos in my mind was always planned all along, and this is a fundamental sin of the Eternal people. It wasn’t that they had a kid who turned out bad. Kirby’s original idea was 100 Eternals, 100 Deviants, then only the Deviants breed. 

So there’s only ever been 100 in this weird static family unit, but what happened with Titan? What were all the schisms for? Where did Thanos come from? Thanos was really an attempt to extend the Eternal line, which went very badly wrong. You mentioned Paradise Lost, but I just got the Titanos Schism, which is an event in the history anyway, but I built up to being the equivalent of, I don’t know, one of those stories in Lord of the Rings, set 500 years earlier that’s in the appendix.

This is actually some of the stuff we cover in [The Eternals: Thanos Rising,] the Dustin Weaver special we’re doing. We talk about the background of all this. They argued whether they should actually have true Eternal children. They split. A’Lars AKA Mentor, met up with Sui-San on Titan. They work out a way to have Thanos (which is what the special is about) and hooray, they can breed. And then “oh no, this is what happens when we breed.” Thanos is really the worst case scenario.

But the other interesting thing is, of course, Thanos gets to meet his other family. The idea there’s a whole extended family he’s interacted with very little, which is really interesting to me. In the first arc,  I’ve written him as Frankenstein or the Phantom of the Opera. He’s just the Alien. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s regarded as a force of nature. 

I do this a lot in my books. People always say, I don’t really like villains. As much as I enjoy Thanos chewing the scenery and talking about poetry and death, I write them as people with powerful needs. The question becomes what will they do to get them? The answer, of course, [for] people like Thanos, is almost everything. But what’s always interesting for me is what won’t they do as well? If you can emotionally connect to all the characters, even the ones you hate, even the ones you want to lose, that’s when stuff becomes interesting for me. 

Read more

Movies

Marvel’s Eternals Will Reveal Why The Eternals Didn’t Interfere in Infinity War

By Alec Bojalad

Movies

Marvel’s Eternals Trailer Breakdown: Who Are The New Characters of the MCU?

By Mike Cecchini

Which Eternal was your hook when you first started thinking about the book? Who was your path into the world and did it change as you went deeper into it? Who do you hope readers attach to from your story as they head to theaters to see the movie?

Originally Ikaris and Sprite were the two, and I made them the point of view characters for two reasons. One, Ikaris is the most straight shooting character, therefore he was the person who would most be hurt by the twist. He’s the classic hero, so let’s put him through the grinder. And Sprite, of course, had been outside the story, so she’s useful because she doesn’t know stuff. 

I’ve got a version of Sersi who is a kind of depressed party girl. She’s been an amazing party girl figure. She’s always been enormous fun and I love that. I just wanted to do the alone on the dance floor kind of vibe, where there’s a certain sadness because she’d been doing hedonism for so long, what’s it covering up. Sersi around Eternals is a little bit different from her around humans. I think Sersi is, in some ways, the most complicated and messiest of the characters. I hope she’s the one I think we’re most attached to.

It’s a very different take on Gilgamesh. My biggest regret of the first arc is I couldn’t find space to use Makkari or Ajak, so I’m very glad that I got to do the specials. 

That’s kind of what Kirby did. One of the interesting things about Eternals in the original run is that it’s cut off early while he’s still introducing stuff. It’s not like it reached the midpoint. You’ve still got new characters coming in.  All the way through he’ll throw a random issue in with a different Eternal. It’s very free flowing. 

There’s nobody in comics right now that does grand spectacle like Esad and Matt together. Did having them attached on art change how you approached the scale of the story? 

I must admit I think I knew Esad was on the book before I started writing anything seriously. So leisurely it was, you know those amazing deep focus panels Esad does when you’ve got a city and something in the distance. I always think about that bit in Thor with Jason [Aaron], where you have the enormous dead giant in the background [note: Thor: God of Thunder (2012) #3 page 9]. I remember that and the moment, oh no, no, we’re going to have a lot of deep focus shots. I’m always looking for chances to do that with Esad because why wouldn’t you? [laughs] Obviously, I know Matt really well, having gone through all manner of growing with him, so I know how adaptable and how amazingly he responds to different characters, or different artists rather.

His colors for Dustin Weaver are really amazing in the Thanos Rising special. The fact it’s a story set earlier in the timeline he’s doing a modern take on old ‘70s coloring. It’s really psychedelic and pop, but the whole thing is clearly a modern comic, but at the same time, clearly lifting notes. But with Esad, it’s always how can I do something that allows Esad to actually provide the scale of things? Because it’s a very chatty book, but I’ve got to find interesting ways to make things chatty, interesting things. It doesn’t just have to be a battle scene. Even just an establishing shot is a thing of beauty. 

There’s these six Eternal cities I’ve codified. And the idea of, okay, when we go to those cities, it’s going to be the magical moments. In the same way, when we introduce New York in the first issue, that’s also a magical moment because it’s New York. In many ways, especially to a British person, New York is as magical a city as Olympia. There’s that kind of thrill.

Do the data pages help you get out of your own way or get out of Esad’s way on the art a little bit more?

A little bit. They’re a useful compression device.. At least part of the appeal of Eternals is its scope. Esad makes it really big visually, also big in the ideas of what we’re describing. There’s entire cast members and there’s political systems and there’s those groups who hate each other or like each other and I’m bearing all that in mind when writing it. And the data pages are a really good way of doing it.

Jonathan Hickman’s been doing it forever. I remember. When his Nightly News dropped, it was fascinating, but I’ve been really glad he’s managed to open up a bit of space in the mainstream for people to do that. Because it’s the thing I said I want to be a bit careful around this. I said, I always use a lot of text stuff in my indie work and there’s bits of all manner of text stuff I did before. I think it’s much more notable with Jon because Jon’s the designer so he can just do his own. With me, it was always a case of my interest in text and image and things you can do with that were limited by the fact that the resource I could have.

But what I was trying to is not just do what the X-books have done as well. [This] is the first time [Clayton Crain]’s done design internally and he’s doing amazing work, but it’s also stuff like the spread in issue three where we’ve got all those names. I literally programmed my own Deviant name generator. This generated 1,200 names on that page that Clayton laid out. We’re still working out how we’re going to release that online.  

What are you most excited for people to see in the second arc of the book?

The first arc’s been all about remaking the Eternals, as in here we are, we’ve got a new status quo, more heroes are dealing with the fact that there is a corruption at the heart of their system. Can they change it? Can we change this unchanging system? That’s the tragedy of their heroism to me. 

The second arc, I’m trying to do that to the Deviants. Not as radically because I don’t think the Deviants need it as much. What are the Deviants for? What are they like? If the Deviants were our lead characters, we would be absolutely petrified of the Eternals and now they’re living here. So we get to really meet the Deviants, we get to understand their life and their tragedy.

There’s an enormous battle. That’s something to look forward to. There’s romance and sadness, and there’s also really cool guest stars in the background, which I don’t want to talk about, but it’s important for me to ground this in the Marvel Universe. But also this is a world of humans. It’s not just weird Eternals falling around their fortresses. If an issue doesn’t have humans in it, I feel a bit off because for me that’s another thing about Marvel. Part of the fun of Spider-Man was always that I could look to my left and imagine Spider-Man flying past me, so trying to keep the element, the world outside your window, while still doing something with the scale of what we’re doing, that’s the trick. So I’m hoping that comes across in the next arc.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Eternals: Thanos Rises #1 is on sale on Wednesday, September 15th in local comics shops and online. Eternals: Celestia, the story featuring Makkari and Ajak, hits shops and the web in October, and Marvel’s Eternals is in theaters the following month. 

The post The Secrets of Marvel’s Eternals appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3Ej4GcR

[lilgreenfox]

D&D 5e Homebrew Kitsune

Hi! I know it’s been a little bit since I last posted something here (it’s been a busy week), but to make up for it I’m finally posting my first bit of writing!

What I have for you today is a write-up for a playable Kitsune race in D&D5e, inspired heavily by the Pathfinder Kitsune.

DISCLAIMER: This race is completely untested! DMs, allow play at your own risk, and feel free to allow/ban any features as you see fit. Also, if you utilize this please lemme know how it goes!~

Additionally, I don’t describe them as Kitsune in the writing itself, instead referring to them as Voxen (Vortex Isles). This is because in me and @captainmista’s homebrew DnD realm Kitsune are a variant race off of Voxen, a wolf-based humanoid player race. For all intensive purposes, though, you may call them Kitsune in your own games. Feedback is appreciated. Thanks!

Not unlike their kin from Kaiken, the vulpine Voxen of the Vortex Isles are cunning individuals who use their natural talents in charisma and trickery to get their way. Though they are an incredibly rare sight, they can be spotted on all four corners of the Big Stretch as they seek out arcane power, riches, or whatever other treasures they may seek. Though they have a nose for trouble and an attitude to match, few can deny the fox variant of Voxen’s charm and inherent magical abilities.

Physical Features

Like Kaiken’s Voxen, the fox Voxen have furred, padded hands and long ears. Unlike the Kaiken variant, however, the claws of a fox Voxen are retractable. Combine that with a means of hiding their ears and tail(s), and one could easily mask themselves as human without any magic. While the range in appearance can vary, most fox Voxen also tend to have shorter, more manageable fur than a wolf’s, easily groomed if time is taken throughout the day.

The oddest feature of a Vortex Voxen that differentiates it from its lupine relatives is the arcane potential that is reflected by their tails. As a Voxen grows there are certain “checkpoints” in its life that cause its tails to magically split, multiplying as they become more accomplished. What exactly causes this is unknown, but is attributed to the race’s constant hunger for its personal goals. The more tails a Voxen grows, the more powerful they become, being able to cast spells even if they’ve never touched an arcane tome in their life. It’s rumored that if a Voxen can manage to obtain a total of 9 tails they become immortal, but no case has ever been properly recorded.

The sclera of a fox Voxen changes as they age. Children and young adults' eyes are hardly different from a human’s, with the only noticeable different being the odd iris color variations and of course occasionally slit pupils. As they age and their tails begin to split, the sclera starts to tinge the color of the iris, and when the fox reaches it’s “maximum potential” the sclera blends into the iris completely to form fully one-colored eyes.

Fur color and ear size varies based on the physical build of the fox. Shorter breeds (around 4’-5’) tend to have larger ears and lighter colored fur, usually white or tan. As the size increases (5’-6’), the hue darkens to oranges and browns. The largest of the breed cap out about about 6’6” and can be as dark as midnight, with black or navy-blue fur. The patterns in a fox Voxen’s fur vary based on the individual, but usually they have “caps” or “mittens” on their tails, hands and ears that are a significantly lighter/darker shade than the rest of their fur. Spots on the fur and skin are also common, though they’re often mistaken as freckles or vitiligo.

Culture

Vulpine Voxen don’t have much of their own culture- unlike the wolves of Kaiken they don’t have established territories or even villages. Instead, they stay with their guardians in small families until they find out their heart’s ambition. Once it’s been discovered they set out, either on their own or with the support of their family or party of friends. They pursue their goal, often referenced as their “Ambition”, until either they die or are completely incapable of pursuing it further. When a Voxen is incapable of pursuing their Ambition further, they typically settle down wherever they were stopped. Usually they do so believing that someday they may be able to continue their pursuit.

Children of Vortex Isle Voxen are similar to Tieflings in that when one parent is Voxen, the child always comes out 100% Voxen. The only manipulable traits of the non-Voxen parent, if any, usually is the height and therefore the color pattern of the child. A Voxen’s Ambition is also heavily based on the aspirations of their parents, whomever’s is stronger. The kits are born in sets of 2-6, with closed eyes, folded-over ears, and single, nearly hairless tail. Their growth directly correlates with the pressure to grow up in whatever community they’ve been placed in, capping at as early as 16 in stressful or war-torn territories. Their personalities, like Plantfolk, meld to match said community as well.

In whichever lands they grow in, Voxen are known to be passionate perfectionists in whatever crafts they apply themselves to. They’re excellent performers, being especially sensitive to pitch and tune thanks to their large, perky ears. They also can be seen enjoying craftmaking that requires a quick and dexterous hand, such as jewelry and glassblowing. On top of that, many Voxen are born gifted with arcane skill, pursuing magical power as their personal Ambition.

Playing a Voxen

Vortex Isle Voxen are so rare that it’s hard to really pin a stereotype to them. But like their lupine kin, they have a penchant for getting into trouble for their shenanigans. Luckily for them their wit and natural charm help them squeeze out of sticky situations. These Voxen are also very adaptable, allowing them to squeeze into any niche that a potential party of allies may require. As a Vortex Isle Voxen, you believe your future is yours for the taking, as long as you’ve got the willpower to continue chasing it.

Ability Score Increase You get a plus 2 to Charisma and a plus 1 to Dexterity Age Vortex Isle Voxen reach maturity at around 18-20 years of age. With a single tail, they live for up to 60 years- but for each extra tail they manage to obtain, their life expectancy doubles. It’s speculated that a nine-tailed Voxen is functionally immortal, with how long they can live. Alignment Fox Voxen lean towards the chaotic side, driven by the primal arcane urges that allow them to sprout more tails. Size Though there are very few Voxen in existence at a time, their sizes have a great range. They can be anywhere between 4’-6’6” in height, with weights that vary with their body types. Language You speak Common and Voxen, along with one third spoken language related to your travels or upbringing. Speed You’ve got quick feet and can move at 35 ft/round. Darkvision You have darkvision, which allows you to see up to 60 ft around you even in complete darkness. This vision allows you to see things in that radius but only in black and white. Retractable Claws You are born with a set of slim but dangerous claws that can be retracted to look like normal, albeit sharp fingernails. It’s a free action to sheathe or extend your claws. In combat you are proficient with them, and on a hit they deal 1d4 and have the Finesse property. In addition, if you are proficient in Sleight of Hand you can use them to pick locks, though they do not provide any bonuses to the check itself. Fox Form While fox Voxen don’t have the same bonuses to senses or the counter-charm ability as their wolf brethren, they have the unique ability to shift into the form of a fox. While they appear to be a completely normal fox when transformed, those proficient in magic can detect their true form using a Perception check (competing with a DC equal to the fox’s Charisma modifier + their Proficiency modifier + 10). Your particular fox form is based solely upon your height, listed below. (Note: These are the “default” settings for deciding form. If you’d like to be a different height than the forms assigned, go ahead! Rules were meant to be broken)

The abilities you obtain while in Fox Form, which you only have in Fox Form, are listed below:

All forms have the Pounce Ability, with a DC equal to 8 + Proficiency mod + Dex mod

Pounce: If the fox moves at least 20 ft. straight toward a creature and then hits it with a claw attack on the same turn, that target must succeed on a Strength saving throw or be knocked prone. If the target is prone, the fox can make one bite attack against it as a bonus action.

All forms use the base stats for a Cat, except for these changes:

Intelligence of 4

Wisdom of 14

No climb speed

d6 hit die

Claw attack deals 1d4 + Dex mod damage, and can be used as if they were a weapon with Finesse

4′11″ and under: Fennec Fox Form

You have a Burrow speed of 15 ft, which increases to 30 ft in sand

Keen Hearing: You have advantage on Wisdom (Perception) checks based on sound

5′-6′: Arctic Fox Form

You have advantage on Stealth checks when outside

You have either a Summer (brown) or Winter (white) coat

The Summer coat gives you resistance to fire damage

The Winter coat gives you resistance to cold damage

6′1″+: Red Fox Form

Your size is Small instead of Tiny, and your Dexterity is 16.

You have proficiency in Survival, and advantage on Survival checks done in urban areas.

When in Fox Form, the items on your person meld into yourself and become inaccessible till you transform back. The rules on your transformation are the same as a Druid’s Wild Shape ability. However, some things are different- you can speak the same languages you do in humanoid form, and you can transform into this form as many times as you’d like per day, though it costs a full round action rather than a bonus. In addition, you must be able to concentrate on holding the Fox Form while in it. You automatically lose concentration on any concentration-based spells you’re casting in humanoid form, and if anything were to overly distract from your concentration (ie, being knocked prone, taking damage, getting drunk/laughing too hard, or becoming incapacitated) you must make a Constitution saving throw with a DC determined by the DM based on the distracting force, or be forced back into humanoid form.

Vulpine Ambition The ultimate way a Vortex Isle Voxen shows it’s true power is through the usage and display of their tails, which are earned by making progress in their personal Vulpine Ambition. This Ambition must be a broad goal that can be segmented into proper milestones. For example, a Voxen Bard may have their Ambition be “to become famous, a household name that everyone recognizes”. Proper milestones are up to DM discretion, but it’s advisable to pace them so that the player can obtain their 5th tail at about 12th level, and their 9th tail around level 18-20. Each milestone should have a requirement that’s far better than the previous one.

Continuing the bard example:

Their second tail could be earned by performing at a nice restaurant,

Their third by drawing a crowd in a fairly large town,

Their fourth being asked for an autograph in a town they’ve never visited before,

Their fifth performing for a duke or other noble,

Their sixth by being offered great sums of money by multiple people to the point where they have to turn down very wealthy individuals,

Their seventh by playing for and impressing a king or likewise ultimate ruler

Their eighth by abruptly ending a great battle or war with their music, and

Their ninth and final tail by appeasing an almighty force such as an ancient dragon or a god, stopping them from causing an apocalypse.

These milestones can be set by the DM, or simply rewarded whenever the player does something especially incredible. Lastly, all Voxen grow at a different pace, and so earning multiple tails while the same level, not learning any for a long time, or even not earning all tails by the end of the story are all fine and natural.

When a tail is obtained, the Voxen obtains a spell-like ability that is usable twice per day, per tail. They are born with their first tail and obtain more as they complete their Ambitions.

Dancing Lights

Disguise Self

Charm Person

Nyustul’s Magic Aura

Suggestion

Mirror Image

Greater Invisibility

Confusion

Dominate Person

Your caster level for these spells is equal to your hit dice, and your spellcasting modifier and DCs are based on your Charisma.

-----

I know the abilities of the race are pretty complex, but they were the best I could do to mirror the power level and flexibility of the Pathfinder Kitsune. I do hope you enjoyed reading this, and if you have criticism or wish to utilize this race just let me know. Thanks!

-Christian Byrnes, aka Lilgreenfox

[firethatgrewsolow]

Tiny Dancer - Part Two

**Hey guys, here’s part two of three (or maybe more, who knows lol) - hope you like it!  Thanks for following along.**

As the night wore on, the girls came and went, but Robert couldn’t keep his eyes from drifting over the small privacy wall to the niche next door.  Dani was swaying to the rhythm of the music, the guitarist draped across the sofa in front of her.  He lit a cigarette, declining the offer of another private dance as he studied the lines of her back. She wasn’t like the others, and he’d seen plenty over the course of the past year.  Such a sweet, innocent face.  She seemed out of place, but her moves belied any lack of experience.  Fucking Pagey.  The singer knew better than to make a fuss, though.  He tried to shake it off as she spun around, their gazes colliding.  The faint smile she gave him made his heart skip a beat, and he looked away, fumbling with his glass.

It was getting late, and her Mr. Page had yet to make a move, seemingly content with sharing drinks and light conversation.  Dani turned, thrusting her head back to allow her hair to tickle the top her backside as it grazed his lap.  Her rhythm hitched as hands enveloped her hips, tugging her down.  Ahh, here we go.

“Darling, I think I’ve got a much better locale for this.  My hotel suite, perhaps?” Jimmy purred, his lips curling up.  

Danielle stilled, at a loss for words.  She’d gotten requests for this type of thing before but never from people like this.  It was one thing to fool around in the confines of a VIP room but quite another to … take it somewhere else.  Besides, it wasn’t the guitarist’s suite she wanted to be in.

Robert observed them through the corner of his eye.  She was on Jimmy’s lap, his hand around her hip.  Whispering something in her ear, he trailed it along her side and around her breast, which was nothing short of perfection.  Jesus Christ, her nipples were so fucking hard.  Bloody hell, so am I.  He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Fully aware of his band mate’s inspection, Jimmy drew Dani closer.  “Maybe you should dance for Robert, love.  Just once.  He appears to feel a little, um, left out.”  The guitarist leaned up, calling out to his friend, “Don’t look so forlorn, Percy, come join us … she’s has a delightful talent.”

Robert’s gaze snapped to the band leader, and he slowly stood and ambled over, hoping against hope that his bloody erection would go unnoticed.  He reclined on the sofa opposite them, laying his jacket over his lap as the slinky opening of Back Door Man sounded through the club.  

Oh, The Doors, how quaint.  But good for our intents and purposes, I suppose.  Jimmy gave Dani a gentle nudge, swatting her backside.  “Well, go on … dance for him, Danielle.”  

Dani took a step toward the singer, sensing a thread of tension between the men.  

“Isn’t she magnificent, Percy?” Jimmy drawled, amused by his friend’s obvious arousal … and complete discomfort by the state.

Keeping his coat firmly intact, Robert swallowed as she moved between his legs.  She’d taken off everything except her heels, rocking her body to the sultry beat of the song.  She was magnificent.

“Do that thing I like, love. You know, where you … yes, that’s it.” Jimmy smiled, admiring the vignette.

Twisting around, Dani arched her back, gradually bending over, her hands encasing her ankles.  She spotted the guitarist in her peripheral vision, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.  He’s enjoying this … he’s enjoying toying with us.

“Splendid, yes, Robert?  Quite the vantage.”  

With a heavy sigh, the singer pursed his lips, letting his eyes roam where they wanted.  Goddamn.  He wasn’t sure what kind of game Pagey was playing, but at that point, it didn’t matter.  Christ, he was hard as a rock, and she looked so soft … so bloody sweet.  He gritted his teeth, forcing his eyes away.

Relishing the frustration etched on Robert’s face, Jimmy stood, his fingers winding around Dani’s silk wrap.  “Now, turn back around, love, and say goodnight.  It’s time to go.”  

Time to go?  Danielle’s heart began to pound.  With him?  Things were moving fast, too fast.  And with the wrong person entirely.

“What the fuck, mate!”  

Bonzo’s voice rang out, along with a shrill scream.  As another cry pierced the air, Dani craned her neck to survey the scene.  Bedlam.  Several members of the crew had taken some girls on their shoulders, clearly roaring drunk.  It was a mass of naked limbs and stumbling men, bumping into furniture and each other.  Two of the bouncers flew into the room trying to untangle the mess, only to be pushed around by a couple of the entourage.  Oh, no … there’s Mick.  A huge man she didn’t recognize came racing up to Jimmy with a pace that she never would have imagined possible.

“Get out of here, Jim!  You too, Percy.  Get to the cars.  I’ll see to Bonzo.”

“It appears the time is now.”  Jimmy took her arm, following Peter down the steps of the VIP section.

Passing the entry to the dressing area, Dani hesitated, pulling her wrap from his hand.  “Wait, no … I can’t just leave!”

Jimmy expelled an exasperated breath.  “Whyever not?”  At her silence, he cocked his head impatiently.  “My dear, you have approximately five seconds.  Because I am leaving, and as much as I’d love for you to join me, I’m not waiting.”

Donning her cover, Dani took in the madness on the floor.  Serge had rushed in, his head wildly swinging back and forth as he roved over the carnage.  His eyes found hers, and he lurched forward, saying something she couldn’t make out, spittle flying from his lips.  In an instant, Mick appeared, wrapping his arm across the man’s shoulders.  As he wrangled him away, the guard turned in her direction, mouthing one word.  “Go.”

She stole another peek at Robert.  You’re probably out of a job, anyway.  “My things … I’ve got to get my stuff.”

“We’ll be in the car.  Richard will fetch you.  Let’s go, Percy.”

Falling in step behind Jimmy as Danielle pushed through the felt covered doors, Robert found himself lagging, finally stopping altogether.  He watched his friend disappear and whirled around.  This was his chance, and he was taking it.  With a quick look behind him, he slipped through the same doors the dancer had taken.  The stark lighting was startling, and he stilled, letting his vision adjust.  Hearing the clang of a locker, he crept slowly toward it.

Dani caught the figure of a man as she tightened the belt of her coat.  “Robert!  What are you doing back here?”

“I wanted to, ah … make sure you’re okay.”  The singer tentatively padded closer.  “Maybe see if you needed … any help.”  There would be hell to pay, but it didn’t matter.  He took another step.  “Do you?  Need any help, that is?”  He began to smile, and she did, too, their real communication unspoken.

Danielle peered into his eyes, so kind and hopeful … and maybe a little randy, she thought with a tiny shiver.  Grabbing her bag, she threw it over her shoulder.  “Let’s go out the back way.”

Robert beamed as she reached for his hand.  Jimmy may have wanted her, but she wanted him.  

Stalking through the club for the third time, Richard lit a cigarette.  Pagey wasn’t going to be happy.  Why can’t he just find another fucking bird.  But he knew … it was Jimmy’s show, and it was his job to make sure the band leader was kept satisfied.  Which Jim won’t be tonight.  He prepared himself for slaughter as he trudged back to the car.

“Well?” the guitarist snapped as Cole dropped into the seat next to him.

“I can’t find her.  She’s just not in there, mate.”

Jimmy drummed his fingers against the leather, weighing the options.  The idea that she wouldn’t want to come back with him was simply preposterous.  Wait a minute … where’s Robert?  “Is Percy in one of the other cars?”

Fuckin’ hell.  Richard blew out a long stream of smoke.  “Nope.”

Seething inside, the guitarist slowly nodded.  “I see.”  Let them find their own way back.  He tapped the driver, signaling him to leave.

A lamp was on when they entered the suite, lighting it up enough for Dani to look around.  It was small, a junior suite, really, but very nice, certainly nicer than any she’d ever stayed in.  Robert poured them some wine, and she headed to the bathroom to pull herself together.  She could hear the radio turn on as she touched up her makeup, running her fingers through her hair.  This will have to do.  She turned to the door, doing her best to quell her nerves as she sorted out the events of the evening.  My God, what a night.  And the real one was just beginning.  The shiver came back with a vengeance.

Robert stood up as she stepped out of the bath.  She was in the pretty chiffon he remembered from the hall and tall, fitted suede boots that came slightly over the knee.  So lovely.  She draped her coat and bag across a chair as he handed her the wine, leading her to the sofa.  “You are … just a picture.”

“Thank you.”  Danielle fidgeted at the singer’s scrutiny, trying her best to conjure conversation.  What’s wrong with you, girl?  You’re where you want to be.

She’s nervous, Robert mused as he drained his glass.  She wasn’t nervous thirty minutes ago. “Are you going to be in trouble?”    

“Probably,” Dani conceded, fiddling with her goblet.  “If I even still have a job.  Are you?”

Robert snickered, reaching for the bottle.  “Yeah, most likely.  But it’s worth it.”  His smile waned as he traced her features.  It was like two different people.  Ballet or burlesque?  Which one is she really?  Maybe a little of both.   “Why do you do it?  Why do you dance there?”

With a snort, Danielle shook her head.  “The money, of course.”

“Well, yeah, but … what I mean to say is why aren’t you with a … what do you call it?  A troupe?”

“It’s not that easy.  I’ve been trying, you know.”

Robert nodded silently.  He knew a little about being a struggling artist but not much, as the success of Zeppelin and been almost immediate.  “I’m sorry, it’s not that I think it’s bad that you work there … it’s just, you really do dance beautifully.”  

“That’s very sweet.  Sometimes I think with my shape, I’m better off at the club.  They don’t really like ballerinas with, um, particular assets,” she said with a smirk.

“I happen to very much like your … assets.”

They shared a quiet laugh, and she sipped her wine.  “I do have an audition coming up … in a couple of days, actually, and with a pretty big company.  I figure if I’m that good, I’ll stand out.  Kind of like you guys did at the festival in July.  I saw you at the Fillmore, too … twice,” she added as his face filled with pride.  “And now you’re going to play at the Boston Garden.  It’s incredible.”

“You’ve been to that many shows?  Really?”

Dani was taken aback by the uncertainty in his voice.  “Do you … do you know how good you are?  Don’t you realize it?”

Robert shrugged sheepishly.  “Yeah, we know it’s pretty good … but sometimes the critics … they’re tough on us.  You know what it’s like on stage, right?  You know how you give it everything you’ve got and … well, in any case, good luck with the audition.”  He held up his glass for a toast.  “Break a leg, right?”

Dani was surprised by his candor.  And insecurity.  It seemed mind boggling to her.  In just over a year they’d gone from nothing to what was obviously going to be the next big thing.  She tipped her goblet against his and downed her wine.  “Let’s hope I don’t actually break a leg,” she teased, savoring the pleasant buzz in her tummy.  “So, what do you want to do?”

He set down his glass, taking the empty one from her hand.  “What do you want to do?”

Butterflies exploded as their eyes met.  “I don’t know.”  Yes, you damn sure do.  

“I have an idea,” Robert whispered, gliding his thumb under her chin.  He leaned in, suddenly flinching at the pounding on the door.  Goddamnit, Bonzo!

“Open up, Planty!  We know you’re in there!  And with that bird, too.  Jimmy’s bloody pissed off!  I think he’s gonna put a spell on ya!  You’re fucked, mate!”

He and Dani exchanged looks, both trying to stifle their giggle.  Placing a finger against his lips, he slunk toward the door, wincing as the drummer kicked it.  He knew full well that if he didn’t respond, his friend would just tear it down.  Hell, he might do it anyway as he’d certainly done it before.  Robert mustered his best sleepy voice.  “Go away … I was in bed.”

The drummer barked a thunderous laugh.  “I bet you were … and with that little girl, yeah?  Pagey told me I could break down the door if I wanted.  And maybe I do!”

He kicked it again, and Robert jumped back.  Christ.  “Fuck off, Bonzo!  I’m sleeping … gotta save my voice.”  Hearing some mumbling, he placed his ear on the panel.  It was Jimmy.  Shit.

“Do give my regards to Danielle, Robert.  We’ll talk in the morning.”

Talk in the morning.  The singer clenched his jaw, sucking in a breath.  That doesn’t sound great.  As he listened to them make their way down the hall, he grinned, turning to Dani.  “I guess we are in trouble.”

“Better make the most of it,” she shot back coyly.  “You were telling me you had an idea?”

“Yeah, I do.”  Robert settled next to her, nibbling his lip as he eyed the lines of her dress.  “But first … will you, ah … will you dance for me again?”

The words were quiet, almost bashful, the antithesis of the lion-like man that prowled the stage.  Dani could barely wrap her head around it.  One thing was the same, though, the charisma, the magnetism.  She wanted him badly, more than anyone ever in her life.  As the sexy riff of Honky Tonk Women filled the room, she brought her hands to the sides of his face.  “Shall I keep my boots on?”  

“How’d you guess?”

“Just a hunch,” she replied with a soft smile.  “I know a little about what boys like.”

She stood, Robert’s gaze moving lazily over her frame.  That, you most certainly do.

[endenogatai]

In 2020, Warsaw’s startup ecosystem is ‘a place to observe carefully’

If you listed the trends that have captured the attention of 20 Warsaw-focused investors who replied to our recent surveys, automation/AI, enterprise SaaS, cleantech, health, remote work and the sharing economy would top the list. These VCs said they are seeking opportunities in the “digital twin” space, proptech and expanded blockchain tokenization inside industries.

Investors in Central and Eastern Europe are generally looking for the same things as VCs based elsewhere: startups that have a unique value proposition, capital efficiency, motivated teams, post-revenue and a well-defined market niche.

Out of the cohort we interviewed, several told us that COVID-19 had not yet substantially transformed how they do business. As Michał Papuga, a partner at Flashpoint VC put it, “the situation since March hasn’t changed a lot, but we went from extreme panic to extreme bullishness. Neither of these is good and I would recommend to stick to the long-term goals and not to be pressured.”

Said Pawel Lipkowski of RBL_VC, “Warsaw is at its pivotal point — think Berlin in the ‘90s. It’s a place to observe carefully.”

Here’s who we interviewed for part one:

Bryony Cooper, managing partner, Arkley Brinc VC

Anna Wnuk-Błażejczyk, investor relations manager, Experior.vc

Rafał Roszak, investment director, YouNick Mint

Michal Mroczkowski, partner, Market One Capital

Marcus Erken, partner, Sunfish Partners

Borys Musielak, partner, SMOK Ventures

Mathias Åsberg, partner, Nextgrid

Kuba Dudek, SpeedUp Venture Capital Group

Marcin Laczynski, partner, Next Road Ventures

Michał Rokosz, partner, Inovo Venture Partners

For the conclusion, we spoke to the following investors:

Karol Szubstarski, partner, OTB Ventures

Michał Papuga, partner, Flashpoint VC

Michal Bachmacz, partner, Aper Ventures

Pawel Lipkowski, partner, RBL_VC

Tomasz Golinski, partner, CofounderZone

Szymon Janiak, partner, Czysta3.vc

Bogy Skowronski, partner, Mitefcee.org

Boris Kocot, partner, AIP Seed

Bartosz Lipnicki, partner, Alfabeat

Radek Czyrko, partner, THC Pathfinder VC

Karol Szubstarski, partner, OTB Ventures

What trends are you most excited about investing in, generally? Gradual shift of enterprises toward increased use of automation and AI, that enables dramatic improvement of efficiency, cost reduction and transfer of enterprise resources from tedious, repeatable and mundane tasks to more exciting, value added opportunities.

What’s your latest, most exciting investment? One of the most exciting opportunities is ICEYE. The company is a leader and first mover in synthetic-aperture radar (SAR) technology for microsatellites. It is building and operating its own commercial constellation of SAR microsatellites capable of providing satellite imagery regardless of the cloud cover, weather conditions and time of the day and night (comparable resolution to traditional SAR satellites with 100x lower cost factor), which is disrupting the multibillion dollar satellite imagery market.

Are there startups that you wish you would see in the industry but don’t? What are some overlooked opportunities right now? I would love to see more startups in the digital twin space; technology that enables creation of an exact digital replica/copy of something in physical space — a product, process or even the whole ecosystem. This kind of solution enables experiments and [the implementation of] changes that otherwise could be extremely costly or risky – it can provide immense value added for customers.

What are you looking for in your next investment, in general? A company with unique value proposition to its customers, deep tech component that provides competitive edge over other players in the market and a founder with global vision and focus on execution of that vision.

Which areas are either oversaturated or would be too hard to compete in at this point for a new startup? What other types of products/services are you wary or concerned about? No market/sector is too saturated and has no room for innovation. Some markets seem to be more challenging than others due to immense competitive landscape (e.g., food delivery, language-learning apps) but still can be the subject of disruption due to a unique value proposition of a new entrant.

How much are you focused on investing in your local ecosystem versus other startup hubs (or everywhere) in general? More than 50%? Less? OTB is focused on opportunities with links to Central Eastern European talent (with no bias toward any hub in the region), meaning companies that leverage local engineering/entrepreneurial talent in order to build world-class products to compete globally (usually HQ outside CEE).

Which industries in your city and region seem well-positioned to thrive, or not, long term? What are companies you are excited about (your portfolio or not), which founders? CEE region is recognized for its sizable and highly skilled talent pool in the fields of engineering and software development. The region is well-positioned to build up solutions that leverage deep, unique tech regardless of vertical (especially B2B). Historically, the region was especially strong in AI/ML, voice/speech/NLP technologies, cybersecurity, data analytics, etc.

How should investors in other cities think about the overall investment climate and opportunities in your city? CEE (including Poland and Warsaw) has always been recognized as an exceptionally strong region in terms of engineering/IT talent. Inherent risk aversion of entrepreneurs has driven, for a number of years, a more “copycat”/local market approach, while holding back more ambitious, deep tech opportunities. In recent years we are witnessing a paradigm shift with a new generation of entrepreneurs tackling problems with unique, deep tech solutions, putting emphasis on global expansion, neglecting shallow local markets. As such, the quality of deals has been steadily growing and currently reflects top quality on global scale, especially on tech level. CEE market demonstrates also a growing number of startups (in total), which is mostly driven by an abundance of early-stage capital and success stories in the region (e.g., DataRobot, Bolt, UiPath) that are successfully evangelizing entrepreneurship among corporates/engineers.

Do you expect to see a surge in more founders coming from geographies outside major cities in the years to come, with startup hubs losing people due to the pandemic and lingering concerns, plus the attraction of remote work? I believe that local hubs will hold their dominant position in the ecosystem. The remote/digital workforce will grow in numbers but proximity to capital, human resources and markets still will remain the prevalent force in shaping local startup communities.

Which industry segments that you invest in look weaker or more exposed to potential shifts in consumer and business behavior because of COVID-19? What are the opportunities startups may be able to tap into during these unprecedented times? OTB invests in general in companies with clearly defined technological advantage, making quantifiable and near-term difference to their customers (usually in the B2B sector), which is a value-add regardless of the market cycle. The economic downturn works generally in favor of technological solutions enabling enterprise clients to increase efficiency, cut costs, bring optimization and replace manual labour with automation — and the vast majority of OTB portfolio fits that description. As such, the majority of the OTB portfolio has not been heavily impacted by the COVID pandemic.

How has COVID-19 impacted your investment strategy? What are the biggest worries of the founders in your portfolio? What is your advice to startups in your portfolio right now? The COVID pandemic has not impacted our investment strategy in any way. OTB still pursues unique tech opportunities that can provide its customers with immediate value added. This kind of approach provides a relatively high level of resilience against economic downturns (obviously, sales cycles are extending but in general sales pipeline/prospects/retention remains intact). Liquidity in portfolio is always the number one concern in uncertain, challenging times. Lean approach needs to be reintroduced, companies need to preserve cash and keep optimizing — that’s the only way to get through the crisis.

Are you seeing “green shoots” regarding revenue growth, retention or other momentum in your portfolio as they adapt to the pandemic? A good example in our portfolio is Segron, a provider of an automated testing platform for applications, databases and enterprise network infrastructure. Software development, deployment and maintenance in enterprise IT ecosystem requires continuous and rigorous testing protocols and as such a lot of manual heavy lifting with highly skilled engineering talent being involved (which can be used in a more productive way elsewhere). The COVID pandemic has kept engineers home (with no ability for remote testing) while driving demand for digital services (and as such demand for a reliable IT ecosystem). The Segron automated framework enables full automation of enterprise testing leading to increased efficiency, cutting operating costs and giving enterprise customers peace of mind and a good night’s sleep regarding their IT infrastructure in the challenging economic environment.

What is a moment that has given you hope in the last month or so? This can be professional, personal or a mix of the two. I remain impressed by the unshakeable determination of multiple founders and their teams to overcome all the challenges of the unfavorable economic ecosystem.

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8204425 https://ift.tt/3kpzZHR via IFTTT

[ecotone99]

VICE GRIP [HR]

The weathered brass door handle rattled as Roger entered the building of his studio. His fingertips stung as they brushed against the solid wood of the door. They were red, the skin around his nails torn and raw. The nails themselves stubby and jagged.

It was an impressive brick building with arched entryways and high ceilings located in the southwest of Montreal overlooking the Lachine Canal. An old building, repurposed over and over again. Built some point during the industrial revolution to service the railroad that ran along the canal all the way through centre-ville. Roger didn’t know. He didn’t care to know. Now (much like the many other buildings like it) it was an environment where lots of young ambitious professionals gathered to house their start-ups and niche enterprises. All Roger knew was that he liked the view, it inspired him, and he couldn’t work unless he was inspired.

He envied the work ethic of other commercial artists, the ones who could work whether they felt like it or not. Although he tried throughout his career, that wasn’t how he was wired. Roger would have been destined to fail if it hadn’t been for that sizeable mass of natural talent burrowed in some corner of his wiry frame. Talent, however, makes people lazy.

Insecurities like these weren’t the concerns occupying Roger’s thoughts. He was preoccupied with the large white capsule he was thumbing in the pocket of his tattered MEC jacket from the late nineties. His sister, Gen, had given it to him that morning. The capsule was given to her by a friend from her work-out classes. An addiction specialist, Cooper. When Gen had mentioned in passing her brother’s compulsion for biting his nails, the stocky, enthusiastic young woman immediately perked up like a dog reacting to the TV being turned on, before slipping back into her professional persona and prodding for details.

“When did this start?” “Does he bite them all the time?” “How has it affected his day-to day life?”

Gen was reluctant to talk in depth, she felt it wasn’t her place to discuss her brother’s personal struggles without his knowledge, especially something he was self-conscious about like this. However Cooper wouldn’t back down in her interrogation. She didn’t appear the type who couldn’t take a hint, and Gen’s ultimate submission was made more inevitable by the fact that she was the type who could be easily pushed around by people like Cooper. It didn’t take many more questions before Gen was willing to talk about her brother in detail, despite being confused at Cooper’s interest in an addiction as dull and commonplace as nail-biting.

Gen had explained the pill to Roger as nothing short of a miracle drug, which understandably made him more skeptical than he already was. He didn’t feel he was the kind of gullible Dr. Oz viewer that would normally fall for a scam like this, but he was frustrated. He’d tried meditation, therapy, and any and all home-remedy a nosy acquaintance or co-worker had annoyingly suggested to him in the past, but this was his first time trying something so “medical”, as he simply put it.

Roger’s studio was exactly like the one he had envisioned since his early interest in becoming a successful artist. High ceilings with the walls adjacent to the large windows decorated with dozens of prints, and a few original pieces, from the rock-star artists of his childhood. Burne Hogarth, Barry Windsor Smith, Drew Struzan. The exposed brickwork made it more hip. As did the ancient brown pipes that ran along the ceiling off into other rooms, like veins, somehow still pumping, barely keeping this old building going. Roger kept his studio relatively presentable at all times, though his organizational skills rarely exceeded making separate piles of related work for his different projects. With his large-windowed wall facing south, he was sure to get a fairly steady natural light throughout the day, a feature he looked for specifically due to his frustration with the way most artificial lights reflected on his paintings.

Roger felt his heart rate speed up as his subconscious noted that it was almost time to take the pill. He had decided on today to begin his treatment. He was starting a work marathon. Two days of straight painting, stopping briefly every eight hours or so to scarf down some instant-noodles and burn through an old Twilight Zone episode or two. He had been hired to design a mural for a new nearby business. An organic food store very aware of people’s hostility towards fancy new establishments raising the price of rent, and desperately trying to gain favour by having a local artist spice-up one of their bare walls with some scribble that represented the neighbourhood.

If you had asked Roger he would describe his feeling as anxious, but he was scared. It was 8:58 am on a Saturday morning. In two minutes he would take this drug and over the next 48 hours it would work in the back of his mind, chipping away at his negative impulses. Ideally it would be totally unnoticeable, but he was scared anyway.

As he expected, the pill went down hard with his lukewarm coffee. He had never managed to force down even an ibuprofen without a sip of water, and this was about four times the size. Roger sat down at his drafting table. For some reason he anticipated an instantaneous signal that the drug was doing its thing, lightheadedness, slightly blurred vision. But the only notable sensation was his heartbeat reverting back to its usual canter as relief set in. He let out an amused sigh, almost laughing at himself. However the disappointing realization now crept into his mind that it will most likely do nothing and he will come out of this weekend unchanged. Roger picked up his pencil and began sketching away, as the thought of the intimidatingly large pill drifted farther away until it was gone.

Roger had been working for two hours when he realized he had the remaining bite-able area of his unoccupied thumb-nail currently lodged under his left canine. His bottom teeth scraping, mining away at it, trying to get the last few thin strips of nail before it became too painful to continue. He pulled away quickly, taking one final piece with him, revealing a thin line of sensitive pink flesh as blood began to fill it in. He stuck the tip of his thumb in his mouth. A familiar brief feeling of regret swept over him. Always the same thought when he bites too much.

“Jesus Christ, this has been going on for too long now. I’m an adult, I can’t be having my fingers constantly in my mouth, I feel like a seven year old.”

But the sudden moment of self-discipline felt forced. He knew that in probably no more than an hour he would find himself back in his usual one-handed state. Anyway, Gen had told him that for the best effect he should bite as he does usually, and just let the drug work for itself. Roger didn’t really have a choice either way. The temptation was too good, and he enjoyed the pain.

It was 5pm. Roger hadn’t eaten anything since he’d stuffed a cold bagel down his throat that morning on his way out the door. His hunger was beginning to distract him. Giving in to the expanding hollowness in his stomach, he strode over to his backpack leaning against one of his filing cabinets. After digging around for a few seconds through long forgotten receipts and scrapped sketches he retrieved one of the instant noodle bowls he had packed.

The aroma of long-preserved powdered seasoning filled the room as Roger brought his paper bowl from the kettle plugged into the north facing wall to his side table. All in-progress works had been moved far away as to make sure no stray drops of the rust-coloured broth found its way to the middle of some shirtless, iron-helmeted hero’s pale chest.

Roger started up an episode of The Twilight Zone while he waited the standard five minutes for the noodles to be cool enough to not leave the feeling of lightly seared, wrinkly skin on the roof of his mouth. Impatient, he dove in prematurely. The taste was comforting and depressing. It reminded him of the days spent in the corner of his one-bedroom apartment, sat at his desk, trying to emulate the emotions he was struck with when he looked over the cover of Conan the Usurper or the Book of Paradox. It also reminded him that every obsession he ever had in his life always managed to outshine his interest in learning to cook. These thoughts weren’t quite what they usually were though, it was as if he was looking at them through a viewfinder in which he couldn’t quite get the right focus. Because today his lunch tasted different. It was the first sign that the drug was beginning to affect him. Some side effect he figured he hadn’t been told about (he cared little about the consequences of the drug other than its effect on his nail-biting, and didn’t think to question about possible additional results). The taste of the noodles made Roger feel sick, he managed to suck down a third of it before leaving the rest in the sink. At least now he knew this pill was doing something, if that meant not eating for the next two days, so be it.

The work was beginning to turn out. The sketch phase neared completion and Roger had surprised himself. For once he was completely happy with what he'd done so far. It’s a well known curse among all artists to not be able to enjoy one’s own work, a curse that every artist thinks they’ll overcome. Always striving to look down at a finished piece and feel the same satisfaction and wonder they have when admiring the works of their heroes. All the while knowing in the back of their mind that the closest they’ll ever come is an unsure: Well, it’s definitely my best work yet. Roger generally didn’t make it that far and usually settled for: Well, shit’s good enough. He hadn’t come to that feeling of frustrated indifference yet. He had managed to work out a composition he was fairly proud of on his first try. Huh. If I keep up this pace I may even finish by early afternoon tomorrow.

Roger hadn’t done any thumbnail sketches for his piece, yet it was far more impressive than his usual first attempts. It featured an idyllic version of the neighbourhood’s main street, winding diagonally through the page, branching off to present images of statues, fountains and other landmarks beautifully rendered and incredibly accurate in detail. He was recreating the real-life locations with photographic accuracy despite not using any reference images, he hadn’t even taken his eyes off of the page since his lunch break two hours before and they were beginning to become strained and irritated.

It was almost 10pm when Roger heard a clattering from behind him. He’d been going for almost ten hours straight, and he was working faster than ever before. His eyes looked and felt as if somebody had been rubbing salt in them and they had been completely drained of any fluid, and he was sweating all over his board. For the past couple hours he looked like a statue, completely still except for his right hand making the most subtle of strokes, working on details nobody would ever notice. But his hand had just then become still as well. He was staring into the eyes of an old man he had been working on, holding his breath and tensing every muscle he could. He was more afraid than he’d been in years. The kind of terror that consumes you when you wake up in the middle of the night from a dream so horrific you can’t bring yourself to even speak of it, and you convince yourself that any slight movement will surely bring you notice from the entity that dwelled in it, so you remain still, eyes wide, and sweat-soaked until dawn comes or pure exhaustion sends you back to sleep. This is how Roger felt as he listened to the clattering coming from the back of the room. It was the kind of noise your joints start to make as you get older, a chaotic orchestra of snaps and hollow pops. It continued for about fifteen seconds before the silences between each noise began getting longer until it faded completely. For another three minutes Roger stood hunched over his desk the same way he’d been all day, unmoving. He was still staring into the old man’s eyes, but instead of the dream-like joy that appeared in them before, all Roger saw was pure fear. He straightened himself and stepped a pace backwards from his drawing board to look at the full painting.

It was mesmerizing. There was a golden glow that shone through the composition, not overpowering, but a glow that enhanced every element of the painting and made it seem so real that Roger felt as if he could fall into his art board that very moment. The warmth, nostalgia, and overwhelming sense of welcoming was the exact feeling Roger strived for. It was a feeling he previously thought could not possibly be transmitted. It lived in the deepest crevices of a person’s mind, like your first memory, obscured by thousands of filters that made it seem more like an amazing dream than an event that really occurred (that is, if your first memory is at all positive). Roger completely forgot about the noise that so terrified him a few minutes before, he was too impressed with himself to worry about anything else. Except for that old man’s eyes, that still bore the same look of fear when he glanced over them again. Well, there’s no such thing as a perfect work of art Roger thought to himself as he went back to work, taking only subconscious notice of the figure now occupying the corner of his vision, still as a statue with eyes blacker than anything you could conceive.

It was 2am and the pain in Roger’s hands was unimaginable. They were so tense it felt as if somebody had crushed them in some industrial press. They appeared completely fine, however, and though Roger had been biting the nails on both of his hands continuously for the past three hours or so, they appeared to be in the same shape they were in that morning. Roger questioned whether he had even been biting them at all. Yes, his nails had been in his mouth, and yes, he felt his teeth scraping against them, he even thought he remembered tearing off a few solid pieces and crushing them to a fine dust under his molars. But the evidence staring him in the face proved otherwise. This moment of discovery would have been more sweet had it not been for the severe aching and stinging sensations he felt in his hands, and the realisation that he could no longer get a solid grip on his paintbrush. It had been approximately the seventh time Roger was reaching down to retrieve it off the floor in the past ten minutes. Each time it proved more difficult to pick up than the last. Not only had Roger’s manual motor ability significantly decreased, but it now felt to him like his paintbrush was coated in a thin lubricant. He turned it clumsily around until he’d oriented an entirely new grip that he figured solid enough to keep it in his hand for longer than a few minutes at a time. It made it much harder to pull off the finer details in the piece, but after a few frustrated sighs and grunts, Roger continued without paying it any mind. After all, he was almost done.

The following four hours had felt like a dream, not quite a nightmare, but something in between. The dream you wake up from the next morning feeling a strange sadness and confusion. Roger could no longer feel his hands gripping his brush, and each movement he made felt like the product of a jumble of mismatched gears, chugging along. His eyes felt like they were being held wide by some medical instruments, and his mind was racing. His thoughts flew by like cars heading the opposite way down the highway, a hundred at a time, only allowing him to register each one for a nanosecond before moving on to the next. The page had come alive. The main street was spilling out onto the floor and the statues and fountains were rising up from his board like scale models. The people inhabiting the painting were walking through and off the page, going about their business window shopping or walking their dogs before cycling back around in a loop. The hardest part of creating a work of art is knowing when to stop, but Roger had no problem deciding he was done. He knew each part was done when it came to life, it started with a couple birds fluttering from the gutter of a florist shop to perch in a tree, then a kid on a scooter making a left turn at the main intersection. Now the entire page was pulsing and breathing, more real than the neighbourhood itself.

Roger leaned back in his chair and let his arms drop to his side as if there were two fifty pound weights tied to his wrists, his brush rolled under his desk leaving a trail of muddy-green gouache behind it. His heartbeat began to slow down and he watched the red hot glow of the sunrise spread across the sky like a drop of blood settling in a glass of water. He felt warm sunlight on his chest and relief. The last twenty-one hours since taking his pill had been a nightmare, one he felt he could only escape by finishing his work; and now it was over.

Gen made her way up the warped, creaky steps to Roger’s studio clutching a steaming Tim Hortons bag in one hand and a coffee in the other. She didn’t usually check up on her brother like this, but she felt semi-responsible for him (being his drug dealer of sorts) and sufficiently worried. She’d been reluctant to give the drug to him in the first place, and the brief run-down she gave him of how it was meant to work had perhaps been lacking. Cooper had not even explained it to Gen that clearly, but she remembered being told of the psychoactive ingredients in the drug, a microscopic amount, but supposedly enough to essentially scare the patient out of their addiction. Gen tucked the Tim Hortons bag under her arm and fished the spare key out of her coat pocket. Despite her worry she knew what she would find behind the door, a sleeping (or at the very least sleep deprived) Roger at his desk with his work barely past its sketch phase. Gen closed her eyes in mock-anticipation, opened the door, and felt hot coffee splash her shins as the Tim Hortons cup fell onto the hardwood.

She did find Roger behind the door, and he was sleep deprived, but the accuracy of her expectations ended there. Roger sat slumped behind his desk with his arms to his side, watching the sunrise, a dark red syrup was dripping from all edges of his desk and chair into a growing puddle on the floor. Gen stood still in the door frame as Roger turned his head towards her; a blissful smile on his face.

“Gen, this drug is crazy. I don’t know how it worked, I’ve been biting all night but look at my nails!” Roger displayed his hands like a new fiancee showing off her ring. Gen’s face remained emotionless as she stared. His hands were dyed a blotchy reddish-brown. The flesh on each of his fingers had been stripped away with all the precision of an angry grizzly. All that remained down to the second knuckle were dented bones and a few strips of pulsing red muscle tissue. Gen stared on, still emotionless except for her wide eyes that began glazing over with tears of horror and confusion. It didn’t take her long to figure out what had happened, what the drug had done to her brother’s state of mind, and despite the dire circumstances she couldn’t help but realize the morbid humour of the situation. That in the strangest way, her brother had been cured.

Gen inched towards Roger with her hands held out in front of her, shaking.

“We have to go, Roger” she managed to squeeze out of her tensed throat

“Why? What’s wrong? Look at what I’ve done!” Gen looked down onto the drawing board. Whatever work Roger had done before the drug took hold of him was now covered in layer upon layer of dried paint and blood. Now it appeared a hellscape; deeply saturated, swirling clouds of brown, and red, populated by hundreds of ghostly figures, staring back at Gen with eyes blacker than anything you could conceive.

submitted by /u/xuaevsed [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2oBGD6y

[emma-cmm-year3]

Final Major Project - Research - Target Audience Questionnaire

Because I still don’t know exactly what topic I am leaning towards for my final major project within the music genre, I thought it would be best to create a questionnaire with multiple questions, in order to find out what the target audience want. I kept the questions quite open to allow people to think about their responses instead of just saying yes or no. This will help me develop my ideas and take on board people’s opinions before I outline my concept.

This is an important part of my research and UX Design, as there is no point in creating something which the user will not like or need. I used Survey Monkey to easily send out links and gain responses from my questionnaire, and sent this to friends, family and shared it on social media. It didn’t matter who responded at this stage, as the target audience is fairly open, as long as they visit city centres or travel and are interested in music! 10 people responded: 

Music Technology in The City (For App Concepts)

1. How do you usually find out about upcoming concerts?

Here I wanted to find out how people find out about gigs. Most said social media, and a few said online and by email. I asked this so that I could maybe think of a more engaging way of finding out about concerts - bigger announcements such as a limited number of tickets only being available by scanning an augmented reality poster or something fun to engage people! 

2. Have you ever missed a concert you wanted to go to because you weren't made aware of it in time?

Here I was thinking more of the smaller gigs which aren’t as well advertised, and then sell out before people get the chance to get tickets. This question was in relation to the idea of creating an app which notified fans of a gig once they had listened to the artist a certain number of times, finding out before they follow them on social media etc. The results proved that this idea would work quite well!

3. Would you ever attend a concert on your own?

I was quite surprised that half of the respondents said they would go to a gig on their own, I presumed it would be a lot less. Still, it is a substantial amount of people who would be missing out. This is where my ‘meet new people with the same music taste’ idea could potentially come into play. 

4. How do you usually purchase tickets for gigs?

All people either purchase tickets on their mobiles or laptop via the internet, which I asked to see if people actually like using their phones to make transactions so that I could maybe incorporate this into my app. 

5. Would you be open to discovering gigs by small, unknown bands?

All people were open to discovering gigs and events regarding small, unknown bands, which is great as this is the main aim for my app ideas at the minute, bringing Manchester to life even more. 

6. Would you be more likely to go to a concert alone if you could chat to others going beforehand?

Most people said that they’d be more likely to purchase a ticket alone if they knew that they could chat to others going beforehand. It is understandable that some people won’t want to meet people they don’t know online, but having most people say yes was a great outcome. I can come up with many ideas for how people listening to the same song, or going to the same gig could get chatting! 

7. Would you be interested in making new friends with the same music taste as you?

Not necessarily to go to a gig with, like the last question, but most people said they’d like to be friends with new people with the same music taste as them. Dating sites and social media only attract you to appearance instead of personality, so it would be cool if I could create something which abolished the aesthetic side of things and helped people to meet based on personality alone. 

8. Do you ever stop to watch buskers in Manchester?

Instead of gigs, I now moved onto asking about buskers. Everyone said they have stopped or do stop to watch them, showing that they have some interest in their talent, enough to draw their attention to stop in their tracks. I thought this was interesting, and would be nice to allow people not in city centres, or from different cities to experience this too. 

9. Do you ever donate money to buskers? (and if no, why not?)

Another busking question I asked is if people donate money, but what I really wanted to know is if not, why not. The people who answered no commented “It is awkward walking up to them in front of crowds”, and “I don’t carry change”. This would be a great opportunity to create a feature for digital tipping, helping the busker having to carry less change, and allowing people to donate if they don’t have physical money. 

10. Please mention any issues you have when it comes to the technology related to music and gigs, or any ideas which may benefit you and others.

“Smaller bands aren't usually advertised at all.”

“I find out smaller bands are playing gigs too late when it's sold out due to the lack of advertising or notifications. It would be nice if Apple Music told you about an upcoming gig in your area after you listen to one artist a few times.”

“Something where you can see last minute events where theres tickets available, so it maybe lists them based on price or location.”

“Booking fees are a rip off.”

“Always a struggle to buy tickets for major artists - i.e. they sell out too quickly”

“Not knowing early enough that an artist is playing local to where I live. Advance notification and maybe a pre gig indicator of applicants so that additional nights for the area could be added.”

“There isn't enough publicity for unknown or niche artists other than social media and youtube!”

“It would be nice to receive some kind of reward or discounts after using a ticket website or visiting a specific venue so many times.”

Link to my survey: https://www.surveymonkey.co.uk/r/6GKW9TF

I can now go on to use this feedback, as well as some of my ‘how might we’ questions to begin drafting my initial app concepts by using the crazy 8 method, which has worked well for me when generating app designs in the past.