#para: the friendship you cave

[vanoincidence]

The Friendship You Cave || Van & Cass

TIMING: current. SETTING: cass's cave. PARTIES:  @magmahearts & @vanoincidence SUMMARY: cass invites van to her cave! CONTENT WARNINGS: none!

Van slid in through the small opening with Cass’s guidance. It took her longer than she would have liked for her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, but once they did, her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Cass’s home. She hadn’t exactly believed her friend when she told her that she lived in a cave, but standing in it now, it was hard to ignore. She looked over at Cass who had her back turned to her. There was some light streaming in above them that aided Van as she ventured further in, gaze sweeping across the sleeping bag and the boxes of comics. 

“This is so…” She didn’t know what it was, but cool came to mind first, despite the mild concern she had for her friend and the fact that she was sleeping in a cave. Especially this close to the abnormality, even if she didn’t exactly believe in all the terrorizing details people spread about it. Van glanced at Cass with a smile. “Cool. It’s like a video game, seriously.” She dropped into a crouch next to one of the boxes of comics, not touching them, but looking. She knew how serious some people could take their collectibles and she didn’t want to upset her friend. “You seriously live in here?” It was nice, being able to focus on something other than all the shit that’d been dredged up around her. Here, she didn’t have to think about the way she melted everything in her path. Here, she could be Cass’s friend and stare in wonder at her home. 

—

There weren’t many people Cass had intentionally shown the cave to. People had stumbled upon it, sure, and there were a very select few that she’d shown the inside intentionally, but the number was very small. Van seemed like a good person to add to the limited list, though. She was a good friend, and she hadn’t said it was weird or made fun of Cass when she’d told her she lived in a cave. She seemed to think it was pretty cool, actually; Cass liked that. She liked Van. Their friendship may have been born in tragedy, but it didn’t stay there. That was a good thing.

There was a hint of anxiety clinging to her as Van looked around, though, a quiet feeling that had her holding her breath and waiting to see how the sentence might end. When Van settled on cool as a descriptor and compared it to a video game, a bright smile spread across the oread’s face. She looked ecstatic, practically bouncing as she nodded her head. “I do, yeah!” She held her arms out, as if introducing the space. “It’s huge. Way bigger than a house or an apartment. And there are different caverns and stuff, like rooms! I have a bedroom, a living room. There’s one I call the kitchen. There’s not, like, a microwave, but it’s colder in there so I can put drinks in there and they won’t get hot. And there’s a stream that runs through it if you go deep enough!” She crouched down next to Van by the comics, scooting the box towards her. “You can look at them if you want. I have a bunch.”

—

Between Nora and Cass, Van wasn’t sure whose living conditions were more like a product of fanfiction. Even though she had offered either of them a place to stay since she had an entire house, Nora only came over to shower every once and awhile, and Cass would drop in to stay sometimes. That was enough for Van, because at least she could offer something. The house felt too big for her, and it was emptier now than it had been, especially with her grandmother gone. 

“Yeah, it’s a lot bigger than my place!” Her house was big, but not really, not if you actually looked at it. Maybe it was big to her because she had it to herself. The cave was wider, more spacious– less suffocating, somehow, despite the rocks. Van’s eyes widened slightly as Cass explained she had multiple rooms. “Wait, really?” She tried to look down one way, and then another, but struggled in the dim lighting. “It’s like having an outside cooler thing.” She nodded as if in some kind of approval. “Do you have really good blankets or something? How do you stay warm?” She wondered what Cass would do come winter time. Had she experienced a Maine winter? Van looked back down at the box of comics as Cass prompted her forth. She smiled slightly and began to flick through them, gasping slightly as she pulled out a cover with Black Cat on it. “I think she was my gay awakening, seriously.” That, and a handful of other women both in comics and video games.

—

It felt like praise, even if it wasn’t. That was the thing about growing up the way Cass had, at existing as an unloved thing; anything someone said to you that wasn’t outright negative felt like a compliment. Van said Cass’s cave was bigger than her house, and that wasn’t necessarily her saying that she admired it or envied it, but that was how the oread’s mind interpreted the words. Her grin grew even wider, and she had to remind herself to keep her glamour up, to not let her joy burn through and make her face light up in a more literal sense of the word. 

“Yeah!” She nodded, watching Van look down the ‘hall.’ It didn’t occur to Cass that her friend would be unable to see in the dark; Cass’s own eyes were just as sharp in the darkness of her cave as they were in the brightness of the sun. “It is! I could keep anything in there, and it would stay cold. I haven’t tried it with ice cream, though. That might be the exception. It’s not that cold in there.” Blankets? Cass shook her head. “No,” she said, before realizing that maybe she should have said something else. The magma in her veins warmed her pretty well, but most people didn’t have that. “I, um… I run hot, I guess? I don’t get cold very easily.” Not a lie. Definitely not a lie. She watched Van flick through the books, brightening when she found one of the old Spider-Man comics with Black Cat on the cover. “Oh, no way! She’s one of my favorites. Spider-Man totally doesn’t deserve her.”

—

“Yeah, and warm ice cream isn’t that good.” She scrunched her nose, thinking about how many times she’d fallen asleep with a tub of ice cream out while waiting for it to thaw. Van arched an inquisitive brow as Cass explained she ran hot, but decided to accept her explanation. She wasn’t sure how warm Cass ran, or if it’d be enough in the winter time, but maybe she’d be okay during the summer. Instead of asking more questions, Van dropped it. 

“He really doesn’t.” Van rocked back so that she was seated firmly on the ground. It was cold and hard beneath her and she started to wonder if Cass was actually comfortable here, or if she felt like she had nowhere else to go. Even though she had explained what happened to her parents, Cass hadn’t said too much about her own support system. Maybe they were kindred souls in that way– not only had death brought them together, but the fact that they’d both faced a form of abandonment, too. Van hadn’t explained what happened with her grandma, but she hadn’t felt the need to. “I really wanted to be her when I grew up.” She pressed her index finger against the cover and flipped through the pages before looking over to Cass. “But I guess I’m more like…” Her eyebrows pulled together, “Cindy Moon.” That made sense. The anxiety was there. She put the comic back and turned, her shorts scraping against the floor of the cave as she faced Cass. “Do you want to do anything?” 

—

“Definitely not,” Cass agreed. In all honesty, she hadn’t had a lot of ice cream prior to coming to Wicked’s Rest. Leila and Metzli were both fond enough of buying it for her here, but it wasn’t something she’d often gotten for herself in her life before the town. After all, it wasn’t feasible to store it anywhere when you lived on the streets, and a single-serving of ice cream wasn’t the smartest use of the limited funds she’d managed to gather through pickpocketing her way across the country. The few times she’d gotten it had been for the novelty of it, because she’d seen it on TV or in movies. She wasn’t even sure she’d ever had warm ice cream, but Van said it was bad and Cass would say anything if it meant Van might want to hang out with her more. 

Van settled into a seating position, and Cass quickly followed suit. The hardness of the cave floor went unnoticed by the oread; where Van had soft human skin that might protest the rocks and the dirt, Cass was made of stone. The glamour covering it was little more than a mask she could slip on and off as needed. It didn’t feel the way human skin felt. Sometimes, she wished it did. Leaning in to look over the familiar pages, she nodded her head. “Honestly? I kind of think Cindy’s cooler. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Felicia’s badass. But Cindy’s story is… unique. You know? And good. And relatable, in some ways. Plus, Cindy makes Pokemon references. That’s cool.” She flicked through the covers herself, humming. “We could just sit here and read comics, if you wanted. Or I could show you farther back in the cave? We could go to the stream.”

—

Van closed the comic she held and placed it gently back into the box. She looked up at Cass, a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “You think so?” Maybe Cindy wasn’t all anxiety and a broken heart, she could be other things, too. And Van liked to make references towards pop culture, maybe just not pokemon. It reminded her of her dad too much. “I guess you’re right.” She grabbed the edge of the box and peered back into it, but didn’t bother moving the other comics aside. Instead, she stared at the cover of the issue she’d just put back into it and chewed on her bottom lip. 

She wanted to be cool. Like Nora, or like Cass. She didn’t think she could be, though. Van couldn’t imagine giving up such comforts as a bed for the sake of doing whatever she wanted. Or her computer, for that matter. The thought was petrifying– to leave her home, despite it not feeling like a home at all. Cass’s voice broke through the onslaught of thoughts and she looked up at her, smile faltering slightly. “Wait, there’s a stream? That’s so cool!” Van pressed her hand against Cass’s knee as she got to her feet, dusting her butt off with her hands. She held out a hand to her friend, feeling like a kid more than she had in months. It reminded her of the night she and Teagan had watched movies. “Do you um..” She pulled out her phone and shook her head, “never mind, I’ve got a flashlight on here. How do you even see? Do you use like, a candle? That would be cool, but maybe a little dangerous.” Would it be? Probably, considering the abnormality sometimes gave off weird fumes.

—

“Yeah. Definitely.” Cass nodded her head adamantly, and the lack of nausea tugging at her gut meant she wasn’t lying. She liked Black Cat just fine, but there was something special about Silk. The time lost, the loneliness, the way she related to the world… It was a lot easier for Cass to understand than Felicia’s flirtatious back and forth with Spider-Man, even if Black Cat’s thievery was a little easier to grasp. 

She watched the way Van stared at the comics, marveling at the familiar uncertainty on the other girl’s face. It was so strange to think that Van, of all people, might feel uncertain. She seemed so effortlessly cool to Cass, like the kind of person everyone ought to want to hang out with. She had a house and a job, and people talked to her. She always seemed so sure of herself online, too. And she was funny. Cass admired her, really. She thought she might be better if she were a little more like Van, but maybe it could be enough to just be like someone Van liked. She grinned as her friend held a hand out to her, taking it and letting Van help her to her feet. “Oh,” she said, a little embarrassed at the fact that she’d forgotten that humans’ eyes didn’t quite work like oreads’. “Um, I think your eyes just kind of… adjust after a while. When you’re down here enough. You know? But I light candles sometimes.” It wasn’t a lie, though the candles she lit were more for atmosphere than they were for seeing. “I don’t think it’s dangerous or anything? There’s not a lot in here to catch fire as long as I make sure to light them far away from my stuff.”

—

Van’s gaze wandered the nature-created ceiling, admiring how the slabs of rock vaulted against one another to create an almost perfect shape. She made sure to keep the flashlight on her phone from hitting Cass directly in the eyes. “I’m really clumsy, even if my eyes do adjust.” She let out a small laugh as she pointed the light towards the floor. This was so much easier than being worried about the things other people said. About what that boy in the common had said, or about the whispers that followed her and Nora away from the coffee shop. This was nice. Cass was nice. She liked Cass, and as much as she hated what had happened and how traumatizing it was, she was glad that Cass was there with them, not because she had wanted something terrible to happen to her, but because… well, just because. 

It felt a little selfish, and Van knew she should have wanted the opposite– to take the risk of not knowing Cass at all for the sake of not having murdered someone, or being attacked for that matter, but she couldn’t bring herself to think that way. “Good point.” She bit her lip and motioned for Cass to go first, not really sure what direction she should head in. 

—

“I can make sure you don’t fall.” She offered Van her arm, and she wondered if there was more she could do. She’d made rockslides in the caves before, whether by accident or intentionally, but she didn’t think the opposite was entirely possible. She wished it were. She wished she could make the terrain easier to trek, wished she could make the ground a little more even so Van wouldn’t trip. She wished she could make her world easier for other people to live in. Maybe then, more people would stay.

But Van was here now, rough terrain and all. She was pointing her flashlight at the floor, she was talking as they walked. They had this terrible thing binding them together, this awful secret and this restrictive promise to keep it, but Cass didn’t think she’d trade it. She knew that was selfish. Someone died because she and her friends killed them. Someone’s body was rotting at the bottom of a pit, and she was showing Van to the stream. She was talking about ice cream, she was giggling, she was light. She thought she should feel bad about that, thought she should feel more guilty about not feeling guilty. But it was hard to, in moments like this. In moments like this, she just felt… okay. She didn’t want to know what it said about her.

Offering Van a smile, she moved towards the stream. She walked slower than she would have had she been alone, made sure to look back. “It’s not too far,” she promised. “Really just a little ways. And worth the walk. It’s so cool.”

—

Van grabbed onto Cass’s arm without further prodding from her friend, knowing that her feet would be untrustworthy over the unfamiliar terrain. 

She followed Cass’s steps, careful and unsure at first, but eventually finding the confidence to keep up with her friend’s pace, even if it was probably slowed down for her. Van nodded at Cass’s reassurance that it wasn’t too far from where they currently were. The light from the entrance of the cave eventually dimmed, and Van found herself blinking to keep up with the descent into darkness. She scanned the flashlight over each rock she stepped over, somewhat afraid that she might take her friend down with her. 

She could hear the stream before she could see it and she tugged on Cass’s arm. “I can hear it! That’s so cool!” Van wasn’t usually one for outdoors, and maybe it showed, but this was Cass’s home, as weird as it was, and she wanted to be respectful and excited. For a moment, she could pretend to be a girl wandering Wicked’s Rest in search of adventure, not escape. She flashed her phone in the direction she thought the stream was, but a wall became illuminated instead. Maybe it was the echoes? “Do you sing in here a lot? I bet it carries over crazy good.” 

—

There was trust in the way Van took Cass’s arm, and the oread wasn’t entirely sure how to react to that. She felt warm inside in a way she usually didn’t, smiling in a way that was largely hidden by the darkness of the cave. Carefully, she led Van through the cave, slow at first and then a little faster when her friend seemed to gain confidence. It got darker the further they went, though Cass hardly seemed to notice. Her steps were just as confident far from the sunlight streaming into the cave as they had been at the front near the entrance, and she guided Van carefully around the rougher parts of the terrain.

As they got closer, the sounds of the stream began to cut through the silence, and Cass grinned at Van’s obvious excitement. “Right? Just wait ‘till you see it! It’s really neat.” The stream was around a bend, not close enough to be seen just yet. But the sound? That carried for a while. “Oh, I don’t really sing. But that’s a pretty good idea, actually! Maybe we should have a karaoke night in here one day? I bet that would be really fun.”

—

Van hadn’t realized it until after holding onto Cass’s arm for a little while, but she did run a lot warmer than normal. She didn’t say anything about it, just kept her grip on her friend so that she wouldn’t tumble and possibly bust open her knee. She realized then, that this was how horror movies started. Going into a place they had no business of exploring– alone, for that matter. But Cass lived here, and she said she knew the cave, so Van had to trust her on that. As anxious as she would, she tried her best to push it down. 

“Karaoke night in a cave?” She thought about cartoons and how loud sounds could potentially cause a cave in. “Maybe.” Van followed Cass like a lost puppy, fingers digging slightly into the fabric of her shirt as they rounded the corner. Her eyes lit up as she saw the stream, bubbling and fast, like out of a movie. “That’s so cool!” Surrounding the stream were small plants, like nothing that Van had ever seen before. “Are those glowing?” She turned to look at Cass, eyes widening slightly as she pulled her friend forward, stopping just at the edge, feet firmly planted on the rocky surface beneath her. “I can’t believe you live here.” That, of course, was for a few reasons. She still couldn’t wrap her head around how somebody could live in a cave alone, especially in Wicked’s Rest (even if she didn’t believe the town’s demented lore). “Thanks for showing me this, it’s gnarly.” 

—

The idea of a karaoke night in the cave with her friends, now that it had cemented itself in Cass’s mind, seemed like the greatest plan she’d ever come up with. She could imagine them all so clearly — Nora, who would probably pick the weirdest song she could think of, Van, who could bring the guitar Cass had seen in her living room, Thea, who might be a little apprehensive at first but could open up as they went on, Ren, who probably wouldn’t understand it but might try for them anyway. Maybe Ariadne would want to come, too, and Wynne. She’d never had friends to invite to a night out before; the idea of doing so now was more intoxicating than the fear that they might not accept her living situation or the territorial nature that came with being a nymph. “We could do snacks,” she said, hoping this might sell Van on the idea. Van liked snacks.

As they moved around the bend, the stream came into view and Van’s excitement became palpable. It was impossible for Cass not to feel the same, the quiet thrill of providing a cool experience to her friend warming her body. “Yeah!” She confirmed, letting Van pull her towards the water. “It’s, like, the best place to live. I come down here a lot.” She bathed in the stream sometimes, though she didn’t say as much to Van for fear that the other girl might find it strange or gross. “Oh, you don’t have to thank me. I wanted to show you. I think it’s cool, and I think you’re cool, so I thought it would be good to show you.”

—

Cass seemed excited by the throwaway comment and Van tried her best to dispel the possibilities of a cave-in. Maybe Cass knew something about the cave that she didn’t. But would that make sense? She wasn’t so sure, but thinking about it too in depth only make things more confusing. Van nodded instead, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “Snacks sound good, too. Gotta make sure we get ones that don’t make it hard to sing, though. So no cheese.” Disappointment colored her tone and she dropped into a crouch just beside Cass, careful not to get close to the water. The stream wasn’t huge but there was no telling where it led to. 

“You think I’m cool?” An involuntary laugh left Van as she peered down at the rushing water, only illuminated by the surrounding plants and mushrooms. Or, at least, that’s what she thought they were. Van wondered if Cass had planted them, or if they were plastic. She had said she used candles, maybe these were like those. As much as she wanted to reach out and touch them, she refrained. It took immense self control, but she didn’t want to upset Cass by moving her things around. “I don’t think I’m cool, but I do think you’re cool.” It felt weird, navigating friendship. Most of her relationships had been online, and though the mark on her stomach was a stark reminder of why she and Cass stood in next to the stream in the first place, Van felt somewhat responsible for the longevity of hers and Cass’s friendship. They had to work for it, the both of them. That meant something. “Most people just think I’m weird.” That was opening a can of worms on its own, so she quickly amended, “because I play a lot of video games. Obviously.” 

—

“Does cheese make it hard to sing?” Cass had never had that problem before but, then again, Cass had also never actually tried to sing immediately after eating cheese. Maybe it was a universal experience she’d missed out on, one of those silly human things she’d never known she was supposed to try. There were so many of those and, often times, she didn’t realize it until someone brought up the fact that she’d missed it. Most of her understanding of humanity came from the media she consumed, and there was so much they didn’t focus on. Who knew high school involved watching educational videos and reading from textbooks? On TV, it was all prom and house parties.

Adamantly, Cass nodded in response to Van’s question. The disbelief in her friend’s tone was a little sad, because it was so unearned. Of course she thought Van was cool — who wouldn’t? “You’re, like, one of the coolest people I know,” she replied, wholly honest. “Really? You think I’m cool?” The thought was exhilarating. She’d never considered herself ‘cool’ by any stretch of the imagination, but if Van thought so? Maybe it wasn’t so far-fetched. And she didn’t think Van was lying about thinking this way; after all, she was here, wasn’t she? In Cass’s cave, letting Cass lead her around. There was trust here. Companionship. She’d never really had that before. “I don’t think it’s weird to play video games. I like video games.” Granted, she’d only ever gotten the chance to play video games a time or two, but… she did enjoy them. “Maybe we could play some together sometime. You’ll be better than me, but that’s okay.”

—

“Yeah, because of lactose intolerance.” That’s what she thought it was, or maybe it was something else. It made sense to her, because every time she had cheese, she had to clear her throat a lot, but it never mattered to her. “There are non-cheesy snacks, but we can totally have cheese for when we’re done singing.” Van thought about Thea and how she said she got gassy. “Never mind, maybe. Only fake cheese.” 

Van wondered what she had done to obtain either Ren or Cass’s respect. Most people would turn their nose up at her. With Thea and Nora, it made a little more sense. She and Thea were a lot alike, and she had known things about Nora before she was Nora from WIcked’s Rest, even if it hadn’t been well. There was something about knowing somebody before you murdered together that made it easier, she guessed. Even if it was weird to think about, and the details on her meeting with Nora in New York was a little fuzzy. But Cass thought she was cool, and Van found herself puffing her chest out. “Yeah, I think you’re cool.” Maybe it’d be easier to think of herself in Cass’s shoes. If Cass said people thought she was weird and that she didn’t think she was cool, Van would be confused, too. “We can definitely do that! I play a lot of single player games, but I have a few we can play together.” She tapped her fingers against the cave’s floor before side-stepping to turn around, looking up at Cass while still crouched. “We can play card games again, too.” 

—

“Oh.” That made more sense. Cass knew about lactose intolerance — she’d seen it mentioned on TV. She didn’t really know what happened when a lactose intolerant person ate cheese, only that they really wanted to but weren’t allowed. “They make fake cheese? I didn’t know that. We can totally have fake cheese.” Where did you buy fake cheese? Or, more likely, where did you steal fake cheese? She made a note to find out.

When she’d broken into that supermarket looking for something to eat, she’d never imagined what she’d come out with. It was half horrible and, selfishly, half exhilarating. Debbie was dead, and that was never going to be anything resembling okay. They’d killed a girl their own age and left her to rot in a pit, and that was so, so hard to come to terms with. But look at what she’d gotten out of it! She wished she could change the circumstances of their first meeting, but she’d never wish she didn’t know Van. Not with the way she smiled, not with how she trusted Cass to lead her through the cave. This was good. And maybe this was allowed to be good. Maybe it was okay to be okay with it. “I could just watch you play, too,” she offered. “I like that, too. I like it when the games have stories, when it feels like a movie. I think it’s cool.” And the idea of playing card games again, the same way they had the last time she’d visited Van’s house? “That would be great! I had a lot of fun with that the first time.”

—

“Yeah, for vegans and stuff.” Van could never be a vegan. She respected them, as long as they weren’t dumb, but she wasn’t sure she could follow that lifestyle. “Sometimes I guess it’d taste real, but most of the time it tastes bad.” She scrunched her nose. “I haven’t had it in awhile, but it hasn’t ever been good. Maybe they’ve invented some new kinds that taste like real cheese. Then we can eat that and sing no problem.” Even if she had to constantly clear her throat, she would still sing, it’d just be annoying. She wasn’t sure why she was carrying on the conversation about cheese. 

As much as Van wanted to take Cass up on the offer to just watch her play games, she knew she should be fair. She’d been told that not sharing her things was a symptom of being an only child, and while she didn’t think that Cass had any siblings to speak of, it was probably nicer to offer anyway. “We can take turns,” Van decided with finality. She nodded as if to make the wordless pact. “The games that feel like movies are a lot of fun, yeah, it’s nice to get immersed in the story and stuff.” She brushed her hands off on her sides as she got to her feet. “I wonder if anyone else has better board games. I looked after we hung out that one time and most of the pieces in mine are missing.” There were notes, too, from her parents, or her grandma– on the notepads that the games provided. Mostly numbers, or little doodles here and there. They were painful to look at, so she had thrown them out. “I’m sure we can figure out something.” 

—

“Right.” Vegans were different than vegetarians, weren’t they? Cass knew, on some level, that the two weren’t identical… but she didn’t know exactly how. And she was a little embarrassed to ask, because most people would have known it, right? Most people understood things like that. She didn’t think Van knew that she wasn’t human, and she didn’t really want her to find out. Van liked her now. She didn’t want that to change. “Maybe we should do, like, a taste test! Get all the different kinds we can find and rank them to see which is the best.” That would be a fun group activity, wouldn’t it? The whole lot of them bickering about their tastes, but laughing while they did it. Cass could just see it in her mind.

Taking turns sounded nice, she decided, like Van was thinking of her entertainment alongside her own. Cass didn’t think many people had done that for her throughout her life. At best, she was usually an afterthought. It was so different with Van, who made a point to make things work for her, and it was hard not to grin. “Okay,” she agreed, “we can take turns.” She looked into the stream, content in the brief quiet before Van continued. “I bet Thea has some,” she replied thoughtfully. She doubted Nora or Ren did, and she didn’t have any herself. But she could always get some. “I could get some,” she spoke the thought aloud, “if we know which ones we want. Monopoly might be fun?” She’d heard those games lasted a long time, which was part of why she’d suggested it. She wanted to hang out with her friends for as long as they’d allow it.

—

“Oh wait, that would be fun…” Van’s mind wandered with the possibilities. Of different chips, drinks, and assorted snacks. She wondered if she should make the trek to Portland to go to the local grocer there and get the snacks her mom would give her when she was a kid. She couldn’t ever find them in Wicked’s Rest. Cass and the rest of them would probably like that. “Do you think we’d be able to bring it all over here?” She didn’t want to trash Cass’s cave, but the thought of having a mass cleaning after a party in it reminded Van a little too much about the grocery store and Debbie’s body. 

Van nodded absentmindedly, gaze following Cass’s to the stream. “Yeah, she probably does, doesn’t she?” She would need to make a note to ask her, even if the last time she’d seen her she had been covered in blood. “Monopoly?” She shook her head, “no that one is really boring and you have to do math and ugh– I count so much money at work already.” Not really, but she had always hated monopoly. “What about something like Ticket to Ride?” It wasn’t that popular of a game among people who didn’t usually play boardgames, but it was a fun one regardless, and it didn’t take that much time to play. “We can figure it out, we don’t need to think about it right now.” She patted Cass’s arm, doing her best to not focus on how warm she was. The urge to ask if she had a fever rose, but she pushed it back, remembering that her friend had just explained she ran warm. “The stream is really cool, is there other stuff here, too?” 

—

“As long as we clean the trash up after.” As much as Cass longed to have friends in her cave keeping her company, she couldn’t stand the thought of litter on the floor. The very concept of it made her feel a little nauseous. Even if she wasn’t very good at it, she was still a nymph, and this cave was still her domain. Letting anyone mess it up was something that went against her very nature. But she knew that her friends wouldn’t do that. She trusted them so much more than the nymphs back in her aos si would have ever allowed, believed in them with so much more readiness than most fae thought humans deserving of. They’d clean up their trash if she asked them to.They’d understand the importance even if they didn’t understand the details.

Nodding, she thought of Ariadne. Van knew her, too, she’d said. “We can invite Aria, too. I know she’ll have some.” Ariadne, despite being a mare, was the most human person Cass knew. If anyone would have board games lying around, it would be her. “Oh, is it? I’ve never played before, but if you say it’s boring, I’m probably not missing much. I haven’t heard of Ticket to Ride, though. What is it?” Quite frankly, Cass would agree to any game Van wanted to play so long as it meant she’d be allowed to play it with her. She had no backbone, someone told her once; she’d never known if it was supposed to be an insult or not. “Yeah, we can always decide later,” she agreed, a thrill of excitement running through her because that meant there would be a later. More hangouts, more time spent together. “There’s a lot of stuff in here. There are some openings that go up into the mines, little tunnels to other caves… some of it’s kind of hard to get around in, though. You’d probably want to come back another time with, like, different shoes or something.” She’d never let Van get hurt or lost in the caves, but there were some things that she was worried might freak her friend out. Bones, supernatural plants and animals, bits of the mineral abnormality crawling up the walls. It was best to go slow with these things, wasn’t it? She didn’t want to scare Van off.

—

“Oh, yeah! We’d definitely clean, and if anyone said they didn’t want to, then…” Van dragged her finger against her neck and stuck her tongue out of her mouth, tilting her head to the side. It was maybe a little too literal, considering what happened to Debbie, so she straightened up slightly. “But we’ll definitely clean, don’t worry about that.” She might not have been very good about cleaning up her own house, but that was because she was the only one there. Well, used to be there. Now, Nora came over for showers and Cass came over to watch movies, and at some point Ren would help her with her garden. She’d need to keep it clean, she realized, so that her friends didn’t get grossed out.

“Aria?” It took her a moment, but Van nodded. “Oh! Right, yeah.” She was a little uneasy about inviting people who didn’t know about Debbie, because what if somebody let something slip? What would happen then? The thought made her sick, especially because Ariadne always seemed like a good person, the kind of person who might tell on them if something like murder came to pass. “That would be fun.” She tried to keep her expression neutral, but it faltered slightly. “It’s a game about trains! You want to go from one part to the other. It’s kind of like a kid's game, the rules are super simple, but it’s fun.” She was just glad that Cass seemed to not care much about monopoly now. Those weren’t important right now, though, and Van wanted to focus on the present. Between the rush of the stream, the glowing mushrooms and Cass’s smile, she wanted to see more. It was a little funny, she thought. For some reason she had thought she’d be more afraid, being this deep in a cave system. “To the mines?” Her eyes widened slightly and she shook her head. “I’d rather stay away from those, if that’s okay.” She’d heard way too many stories, and after the rumbling she’d heard on the beach, she wasn’t sure if they were very safe. She looked down at her shoes and frowned. Her converse were a little busted, but they were reliable. “Yeah, you’re probably right. This is still really cool.” She motioned back to the stream. How many more times would she say that stupid word? 

—

Cass giggled a little at Van’s display. Van was funny, she’d learned. Online and in person, she always seemed to know the best thing to say to lift the heavy weight off Cass’s chest, always seemed to understand what the nymph needed to hear. Van told her not to worry, and Cass found that she wasn’t. The very idea of worrying when Van told her not to seemed silly, seemed stupid. If Van said everyone would clean, everyone would clean. Cass had no doubt about it.

She furrowed her brow at Van’s response, sensing something there, though she wasn’t sure what. Weren’t Van and Ariadne friends? Hadn’t Van said they’d known each other for ages now? Surely she wouldn’t be upset by the idea of Aria joining their ‘party,’ right? Maybe she was worried about the Debbie of it all, though Cass knew she didn’t have to be. With the promise in play, none of them could spill their secret. Cass thought about telling Van as much, but she held back. If Van didn’t know she’d been bound, Cass didn’t really want to tell her. She still remembered how angry Metzli had been when they realized she’d bound them. She didn’t want to repeat that with Van or with Nora or with anyone. “Trains? That sounds fun. You’ll probably have to teach me how to play.” And Ren, because Cass highly doubted that the other nymph had ever played a board game before. Quickly, she nodded her head. “Yeah, it’s best to stay away from there.” Even Cass had only been in the mines a handful of times, and if it was dangerous for an oread… She’d like to make sure Van stayed far, far away. She grinned as Van said again that the stream was cool, nodding her head. “You know, um, if you wanted, we could get in the stream. It’s not very deep, but you can wade in it.”

—

Even with the anxiety surrounding inviting people who didn’t know about what happened in the grocery store, Van had to believe that Cass would ever only do things with good intentions. It wasn’t like she wanted to get caught, either. Because if she did get caught, then things would end badly for all of them. Van chewed on her bottom lip as Cass expressed interest in Ticket to Ride. There were other games, too, but she’d been told to never play Catan with people ever again, mostly because she got too competitive. “That’s okay! I don’t know if the others will know how to play either.” She smiled softly at Cass before sticking her thumbs into the front pockets of her shorts. 

“I don’t really like cold cramped spaces.” She paused, “but this is totally different. It’s wide open, and there’s this cool stream, and things kind of echo.” Van smiled at Cass, her eyes widening slightly as she offered a dip in the stream. She looked over at the rushing water, uncertainty pulling over her like a blanket. “In the stream?” Van echoed back her friend’s words, gaze wandering over the bubbling water and glowing plant life.” What if something bad happened when they got in? What if something melted like it had been? She didn’t want to be responsible for ruining Cass’s home, but it did look fun, and Cass had told her it wasn’t dangerous. But she didn’t think she could, not right now, not with everything that had been happening. “That’s okay. Maybe another time. Maybe we can just hang out?” 

[findswoman]

WIP Whenever

Tagged by the lovely @lasatfat, who also created the image. Thank you so much! 😊 Here is an excerpt from what I’m working on now—the tale of an unlikely friendship between a puffer pig and a knobby white ice spider:

“Oh blast, oh blast,” he said to himself. “Oh blast, this is it for me. I’m never going to find the aurodium stash, I’ll never get out of this cold, cramped cave ever again, and I’ll probably be eaten alive by that… thing over there. I wish I’d at least made it back to Nar Shaddaa; even if Azmorigan’s going to turn me into bacon, I’d at least be able to move around and breathe! Er… Help!” he yelled at the top of his voice. “Help! Someone! HELP!” He paused and hazarded another glance at the large spider. To his absolute surprise, it was still staring at him motionlessly and had not made a single move to eat him. Instead, the gleam in its dark red eyes now seemed… quizzical? Puzzled? And then, to Whilbs’s even greater surprise, the spider spoke. “What’s wrong?” it asked. “What are you doing?” “I’m… I’m stuck! I can’t move!” Whilbs left it at that, not feeling that this was the time or place to get into the mechanics of dropping adrenaline levels causing deflation.  “Well, why didn’t you say so?” replied the spider, waving a leg expressively. “Here, would it help if I gave you a push?” “Um, okay…” Not what he’d expected by any means, but he wasn’t about to refuse. Especially since it was starting to get stuffy.  The creature lifted two of its front legs. Whilbs couldn’t stifle a shudder as it placed them on his shoulders, directly above where his forelegs dangled.  “All right,” the spider said. “One, two, and… three!”

Tagging @runrundoyourstuff @para-cera-therium @rktho @badger-writes @daughterofluthien @kanerallels @pretchatta and anyone else who sees this who would like to share an excerpt from a WIP!

[omgkatherine01]

Electrical: Chapter 13 - Clefairy and the Moon Stone

Ash, Misty, Brock and I were resting before heading off again. I was looking at the map to see we were close to a mountain called 'Mt. Moon'. "Huh," I hummed. "What is it, Emma?" Misty asked.

"Well, in the map it says we sitting close by a mountain called 'Mt. Moon'. Where have I heard about it?" I asked, looking at my Pikachu. "Pika," My yellow friend said. "I've heard about it too," Ash said. "Mt. Moon. It sounds so romantic," Misty said.

Brock chuckled, "Now I remember where I heard about it too. People say that a huge meteor crashed into the mountain back in prehistoric times."

"A meteor?" Ash asked. "Is it really true?" Misty asked. "The meteor is call the Moon Stone," Brock said.

"Now that's romantic," Misty said. I smiled and shook my head. "Can we go there?" She asked. "W--no way, we have to go to the next town," Ash said. "Aw, come on Ash. The Gym isn't gonna go anywhere, it will be there when we get there. Why not go and see this?" I asked.

Misty wrapped her arm around my shoulder, "Exactly. Now, let's go!" She pulled me up with her. "Oh, come on," Ash whined.

...................

We all hiking towards Mt. Moon. "Whoa, look at it," Misty said, pointing at the mountain. We all stopping walking when we heard a scream. "Look, over there," Ash said before we all ran toward the base of Mt. Moon to see a man being attacked by a group of Zubat.

"Zubat," I said. "They attacking that guy," Misty said as Ash pulled out his Dexter.

Zubat, blind Pokémon with supersonic powers. Zubat live in caves and hate to fly outside in daylight.

Ash looked at the Zubat, "Not those Zubat," he said. "No time for jokes," I pointed out. "Pikachu, Thunder Shock." My Pikachu jumped off my head, attacking the group of Zubat with Thunder Shock. The Zubat all flew inside the cave and we all ran toward the guy. "Are you okay?" Ash asked.

The guy stood up, smiling, "Wow, you guys are the greatest!" He placed his hands on my shoulders, "I'm talking super-fantabulistic! I mean two thumbs up, way up, the best rescue I've ever had!"

"Uh, you're welcome," I said. "I'm so moooved, such friendship I thought I'd never see... when the Zubat began attacking me!" the guy said, "I thought I was done for when who should arrive? Two heroes thanks to whom I'm alive!"

"He certainly doesn't look like the poetic type," Misty noted. "Did I mention how grateful I am?" the guy asked me, clutching my wrists in his hands. "Uh..." I trailed off. Thankfully, Ash cut in, "Why were the Zubat attacking you, mister?"

"Huhhh," the guy gasped and looked at Ash angrily, "Never call me mister! My name's Seymour... Seymour the Scientist! Knowledge, research, I'm Seymour the Scientist!"

Me and my friends looked at Seymour in surprise and confusion, exchanging a look.

Seymour lead us inside the cave to show us there were number of lights hooked up deep into the cave, lighting it all up. Apparently this wasn't a good thing, as all the lights set up in the normally pitch-black cave is throwing off all the Pokémon's natural senses, timing and rhythm.

"Look here, these Paras planting their mushrooms everywhere," Seymour said. "And the hot lights are drying up these Sandshrew."

Paras were pulling the mushrooms off of their backs and planting them in the ground far too early and the Sandshrew was splayed out on the floor

"Pika," Ash's Pikachu said sadly. My Pikachu nodded, "Pikachu."

"This is why I'm here," Seymour said, "I'm patrolled to protect Mt. Moon from troublemakers attacking against this cave."

"Troublemakers? Why attack a cave?" Misty asked. "I'm afraid it's because of the Moon Stone," Seymour answered. "The Moon Stone?" Ash repeated.

"Exactly," Seymour said, then rhyme horribly with hand clutched to his chest, "The Moon Stone is an awesome boulder, a million years old or even older! Deep in these caves the meteor hides! Though no explorer has found the place, of the legendary rock from space." He hold up a piece of rock, examining it, "We've studied it's fragments for many an hour, and discovered it increases a Pokémon's power. And that is why the attackers are here, they've come to take the Moonstone, or so I fear!"

"The Moon Stone?" Ash repeated. "Ever since I was a little boy, I've believe Pokémon came to Earth from Outer Space," Seymour said. "From Outer Space?" Me and my friends repeated. Seymour nodded, "Yes. And where, you asking, is the spacecraft that brought them to Earth? In this cave. It's the Moon Stone."

Misty gave a small chuckle, "It's sure is an original theory." I sighed, "Very original."

"But don't you see?" Seymour asked excitedly, "It's means the Moon Stone belongs to the Pokémon. We, humans must not take it from them." Suddenly he fixed his horrific gaze on me, which made me back away. Seymour leaped up to me and grabbed me by the hands, bending low, "You agree with me, don't you?"

I nodded nervously, "Yeah." Luckily for me, a rotund, pink Pokémon bounced happily past us, holding a small piece of shiny rock in its chubby little paws. "Clefairy! Clefairy!" it sang happily as it almost seems to float through the air.

"That looks like... a Clefairy," Brock said. Misty smiled, "It's so cute," She said and Ash pulled out his Dexter.

Clefairy, this impish Pokémon, is friendly and peaceful, it is believed to live inside, Mount Moon, although very few have ever been seen, by humans.

Ash pulled out his Poké ball in excitement, "I gotta catch it." Seymour grabbed Ash's arm, "You can't." Clefairy happily bounced away out of sight. Ash looked to where it was sadly before looking at Seymour. "Sorry, but it's best if you just let it stay here. I hope you understand."

Ash looked at him for a moment before glancing over at me. I nodded and he looked back at Seymour with a small smile and nodded, "Sure, Seymour. I understand."

"Clefairy," We all heard Clefairy's cry and quickly rushed to where the Clefairy had headed. "Don't be scared of Meowth," We heard a voice. We ran closer to see Clefairy and Meowth from Team Rocket.

"Meowth?" I asked. Meowth looked at me and my friends, "What are you doing here?" Ash looked at him angrily, "Looking for troublemakers like you."

Both mine and Ash's Pikachu ran to Clefairy and calmed it down. "So, Team Rocket was causing all the trouble around here," Ash said before adding sarcastically, "What a surprise."

"We've got to stop them before they start any more trouble," Brock said.

"Trouble?"

"Make that double."

We saw Jessie and James walking to stand at either side of Meowth. "Oh come on," I muttered.

"To protect the world from devastation."

"To unite all peoples within our nation."

"To denounce the evils of truth and love."

"To extend our reach to the stars above."

"Jessie."

"James."

"Team Rocket blast off at the speed of light."

"Surrender now or prepare to fight."

"Meowth, that's right!"

"They sure are show-offs," Seymour said. "Don't you guys ever get tired of saying the same things over and over?" Ash asked. "You're just jealous, boy," Jessie said. "Because we won't let you join us," James added. "I would never join up with you!" Ash yelled. "You put the lights in this cave," Brock realized. "It's your fault the Pokémon who live here are so confused!"

"What a shame," Jessie said, clearly not care less. "How are we ever going to forgive ourselves," James said, not caring either. "We want to get our hands on a Moon Stone, so we can power up our Pokémon with it," Meowth said. "With the Moon Stone in our hands, nothing will stop us," Jessie said.

"Sorry to pull your out of you dream land, but we won't let you get away with it," I said. "You want a rock? Take one of these, then get lost," Brock told them. "Get lost?" Jessie repeated, "How rude."

"Let's teach him manners," James said. Ash and Brock pulled out their Poké balls before Ash looked at me and Misty, "You two keep on eye on Seymour and Clefairy. Get out when you get the chance."

"Got it," I said. Jessie and James pulled out their Poké balls and threw them, "Ready or not."

"Butterfree, I choose you," Ash said, throwing his Poké ball. "Here we go!" Bock said as he threw his Poké ball. Ekans and Koffing against Butterfree and surprisingly, a Zubat.

"A Zubat?" Ash asked. "I captured it just before we entered the cave," Brock explained. "Awww, I should have caught one," Ash said, sighing. "Koffing, Smog Attack," James called.

Koffing swooped across, trailing smog behind it, proclaiming happily, "Koffing!"

"Butterfree, Whirlwind now!" Ash called. "Zubat, Whirlwind too, now!" Brock called. Both of the flying Pokémon used Whirlwind to push the smog back into Jessie and James' faces. Ash and Brock smiled. "Not bad," Ash grinned.

Misty and I exchanged a look, nodding. Misty pushed Seymour toward the exit, "Quick." I quickly followed with my Pikachu and Clefairy, "Let's go."

Clefairy and Pikachu were head of me, Misty and Seymour as we ran toward the exit. "Pikachu, pi!" My Pikachu called as Clefairy bounced out of Mount Moon and was happily making it's way out into the daylight.

"Oh no, Clefairy is running away!" Misty called as the three of us pulled ourselves out of the same hole. Clefairy bounced over a hill, clutching a piece of the Moon Stone in its paws. "Pikachu, after it," I called.

"Pika!" My Pikachu said and quickly ran after it up in the hill. Misty, Seymour and I struggled up the rock-face after Clefairy, but then a scared Clefairy jumped down, hitting right into Misty's face, knocking the three of us off of the rock-face and down into the river. I shook my head as I sighed. Pikachu landed on my head, "Pika?"

"All right, give me the Moon Stone," Meowth said, standing at a nearby rock, showing off his claws. "Now, Meowth, I'm sure we can be reasonable about this," Seymour said, desperately. Meowth leaped high with the claws out, "No, we can't!"

"Pikachu!" I said. My Pikachu jumped off from the top of my head and hit Meowth with her tail, sending the cat Pokémon into the water. I stood up, "How stupid are you?"

"Pika!" My Pikachu agreed, standing at the same rock Meowth stood a few moment ago. "My turn," Misty said, throwing a Poké ball into the water before a Staryu emerged, floating in the air. I threw my Poké ball, "Poliwhirl!"

Poliwhirl came out of the Poké ball, "Poliwhirl!" Misty and I nodded to each other, looking at our water Pokémon, pointing at Meowth.

"Poliwhirl!"

"Staryu!"

"Water Gun!!"

Both Poliwhirl and Staryu used together Water Gun, making Meowth's body swell up with water until he looked like some kind of giant Meowth Balloon, and then was sent flying backwards when the water burst back out of his mouth.

"Bye Meowth, have a nice trip," Misty called as she waved. I looked at Poliwhirl and Staryu as Pikachu hopped on my shoulder, "Good job you guys."

Misty and I sent our water Pokémon back into their Poké balls, and then high five each other. 

Ash, his Pikachu and Brock ran toward us. "Hey, you guys okay?" Ash asked. "Of course, we are," I said with a smirk. "Emma and I took care of everything," Misty said proudly as she crossed her arms over her chest.

...................

Later that day, as the sun begins to set, Seymour, me and my friends have set up a little camp beside the river and feed our Pokémon. I noticed Brock was feeding a different Pokémon food to Zubat, "Hey, Brock, I just noticed something."

"What is it?" Brock asked. "That Pokémon food you giving Zubat is a different one," I pointed out. Brock smiled, "Yeah, it is. This one is mead from my own recipe." I smiled, "Do you put in some fruits?"

"I sure do. Do you know how to make Pokémon food?" Brock asked. I nodded, "Yep, my Mom taught me everything about it. I make some for my Pokémon. Can my Pikachu try one of yours?"

"Sure, why not," Brock said as he handed me a few of his Pokémon Pellet. I handed one for my Pikachu, "Here, Pikachu." Pikachu smiled as she took it, "Pika." She started to eat it as Ash's Butterfree landed on the top of my head. Ash chuckled, "Looks like Butterfree wants to try some too."

I hold a Pokémon Pellet up toward Butterfree and it took it. "I will try some," Seymour said, taking one Pokémon Pellet. "Wait," I said but he eat it. "Mmm. Not bad," He said. "Really?" Ash asked. "Let me taste."

He took a Pokémon Pellet and I stared in shock. "Ash, wait, don't--" I was cut off when he eat it and right after that he went into stroke-like convulsions. Brock chuckled, "Well you don't like it, but the Pokémon sure do."

"You should listen to me before doing something," I told Ash, sighing as I shook my head. "Pika," My Pikachu said. I handed a bottle of water to Ash and he quickly drank it as I looked at Brock, "Hey, Brock, can you teach me your Pokémon food recipe?"

"Sure," Brock said as he handed a Pokémon Pellet to my Pikachu. "Pikachu," Pikachu said with a smile as she took it. 

My Pikachu looked up and we all followed her gaze to see Ash's Pikachu and Clefairy were having a conversation. "Pikachu makes friends so easily, I wonder what they talking about," Ash said with a smile. His Pikachu looked at him, "Pika-Pi."

Clefairy jumped up and bounced off. "What's up, Pikachu?" Ash asked. His Pikachu quickly followed Clefairy and my Pikachu quickly followed. "Pikachu, Pi," She called us.

...................

The sun had already set and it was dark. Seymour, Ash, Brock, Misty and I were following both mine and Ash's Pikachu as they followed Clefairy, which is still gripping the Moon Stone Fragment in its paws. We traveled up a little used path, through shrubbery and bushes until we come to yet another cave. "It's another cave," I pointed out.

We all walked inside and found ourselves in a circular cave with no roof, letting the moon shine down on a large glittering rock surrounded by an almost unbroken ring of Moon Stone Fragments.

"It's the core of the Moon Stone," Seymour said. "This feels like a dream," Misty said. "So the Moon Stone legend is true," Brock said. "Look, Clefairy doing something," Ash said. We watched as Clefairy took the Moon Stone Fragment up to the large rock and fit it into place in the one remaining gap.

Almost instantly the fragments begin to glow, then the whole rock itself as more and more Clefairy enter the cave. "There so many of them," Misty pointed out. A Clefairy looked at us and stepped closer, "Clefairy, fairy, Clefairy."

Ash chuckled, "I think it's saying 'Hello'." Brock smiled, "Yeah." Misty smiled, "Look at them." All of the Clefairy begin to dance and lightly bounced around the rock.

"Amazing, this Clefairy formed their own society. This is incredible sight," Seymour said. I looked at both mine and Ash's Pikachu were talking with the same Clefairy so I walked toward them. I kneeled in front of them, "Hey, what are you three on about huh?"

My Pikachu and Ash's smiled up at me. "Pika," My Pikachu said as the others walked closer. "Pika, Pikachu, Pi."

"You understand her?" Seymour asked me in shock. "Sometimes," I said and smirked at my yellow best friend, "When she talks slower."

"Pika?" My Pikachu asked before putting her paw behind her head with a small smile, "Pika."

"Pikachu," Ash's Pikachu told me. "Pika, Pi, Pikachu, Pika." He hold up his paws. "Pikachu," My Pikachu said, "Pika, Pi, Pika."

"Well, they say the Clefairy come to this cave every night to pray to the Moon Stone," I explained. My Pikachu and Ash's smiled, "Pika!"

"Is it because the Moon Stone fell from the heavens?" Seymour asked as I got up. "Maybe the legends are true," Misty said. "Maybe the Moon Stone did came from Space," I said. "Yeah," Ash said. "Oooooof course!" Seymour said, "It all makes sense now."

"What does?" Ash asked. "Outer space!" Seymour said, "Pokémon, and the Human Race! We'll ride the Moon Stone into space, first to the Moon, then to Mars, then together, to the stars!"

"Stars?" an annoying familiar voice asked. "That's our cue!" We all looked behind us to see Team Rocket at the entrance to the cave. "You guys just don't know when to quit, huh," I said as Misty stuck out her tongue toward them.

Seymour stepped in front of us, glaring at Team Rocket, "You keep away from the Moon Stone or else!"

"Or else?" James asked. "I think we've been threatened," Jessie said. Seymour's shaking knees kind of indicate how seriously this threat should be taken though, "The Moon Stone belongs to the Clefiary, not to you troublemakers, l--leave this cave at once."

"What's that unusual sound?" James asked. "His knees are shaking," Jessie teased. "Sounds like a wimp," Meowth said. Seymour ran toward them, "I'll show you!"

"Seymour, wait!" I said. Seymour ran toward Team Rocket but fell when Meowth stepped aside and tripping Seymour up. "Ha! Did you have a nice trip?" Meowth asked. I looked at them angrily while Seymour sat up on the ground without his glasses, "My glasses. I can't see a thing."

"Oh, Seymour," Misty said. Ash looked at Team Rocket angrily, "That wasn't fair!"

Jessie held out her Poké ball, "All's fair in a Pokémon match, boy." James held up his Poké ball, "Enough talk."

"I agree, let's go Pikachu," Ash said. His Pikachu ran forward, "Pika!" Brock threw his Poké ball, "Onix, let's go!"

Pikachu stood on Onix's head as they both looked down at Ekans and Koffing. "Let's show them size doesn't matter!" Jessie said, "Ekans, underground!"

"Koffing, Smoke-Screen!" James said. Ekans did as Jessie told it as Koffing joyfully spit out a Smoke-Screen to cover its partners movements. I coughed, "I can't see a thing."

Ash was standing beside me with my Pikachu on the top of his head, throwing a Poké ball, "Pidgeotto, I choose you!" Pidgeotto came out. "Pidgeotto, Whirlwind the smock!"

Pidgeotto started to use its wings, clearing quickly the smock away, but when the smock was gone, the Moon Stone was gone! Team Rocket stole it! "Team Rocket!" I said angrily.

"All right, Onix follow them underground," Brock said. Onix dug quickly another hole and disappeared in it. Both mine and Ash's Pikachu, Pidgeotto, Ash, Misty, Brock and I quickly ran out. "There is still a chance to catch them," Ash said.

We quickly found Team Rocket as Onix bursting out of the ground in front of Team Rocket and sending them tumbling over, crashing over the Moon Stone and the ground. "Got them!" Ash said.

"Nice work, Onix, grab them now," Brock said. Just when Onix was going to do so, James called to his Pokémon, "Koffing, Counter Attack." Koffing happily flew up into the air, "Koffing!"

Koffing smashed into Onix's face, promptly slamming back down into the ground and gets buried halfway down. Onix smashed into the ground as well. "Onix," Brock said. "Hey, look," Ash said and we saw Seymour emerged out of Onix's hole.

"It's Seymour," Misty said. Surprisingly, all the Clefairy were with him. They leaped out of the hole and swarm up in front of Team Rocket, lifting their little paws up and rocking them back and forth in a rhythmic, hypnotic beat that soon had all of our attention fixed. "I'm... Getting... Dizzy," Misty said.

"This an attack that Clefairy use call the Metronome," Seymour said. "I never seen a Clefairy use the Metronome before who knows what happen." Right them, the Clefairy stopped, "Clefairy." Then, a bright white glow appeared and then a huge explosion of lava teared up out of the ground below Team Rocket.

We saw Team Rocket flying high into the air and they disappeared into the distance. The smoke cleared and we all stared at the massive crater where the Moon Stone used to be. Small shards of the Moon Stone drifted down like snow, settling on a few of the Clefairy, causing them to glow brightly and then grow and change appearance.

I smiled, "They involved into Clefable," I said as Ash pulled out his Dexter.

 Clefable, an advanced form of Clefairy, these unique creatures are among, the rarest Pokémon, in the world.

Seymour looked amazed, "The power of the Moon Stone did this." We all were back inside the cave with the Clefairy and the Clefable. Seymour looked at me and my friends, "I've decided to live here with the Clefairy."

"Huh?" We all were shocked by that. "It's been my life's dream to find the Moon Stone," Seymour said, "Someday I will travel to the stars with the Clefairy."

"Wow," Misty breathed out. "When you do visit Outer Space, I hope you'll remember to send us a postcard," Brock said. "Pikachu," Ash's Pikachu said. "Pika," My Pikachu said.

It was early in the morning when me and my friends finally left Seymour and the Clefairy and the Clefable. "Bye," I said. "So long, Seymour," Ash said. "Goodbye, guys, thank you," Seymour told us.

We slowly started to walk away. Ash looked at me, "Do you really think that the Clefairy came to Earth from Outer Space?" I shrugged with a smile, "Maybe. It's fun to imagine it."

...................

After been walking for a few hours, we came to a road. I stretched out my arms and sighed. We saw a sign on one side, "This road leads to Cerulean City," Brock read. "Well, I guess we're heading the right way. And there is something else is written here."

"Well, they say some kids like to write some silly notes on this signs," Ash said. "What's it say?" I asked. Ash looked at the smaller writing, "Gary was here, Ash is a loser!" My Pikachu and I exchanged a confused look.

"Oh that Gary!" Ash growled. "I'll show you!" The boy ran down the road with his arms stretched wide like an airplane. "Wait, Ash!" I called but he kept running. His Pikachu hopped on my left shoulder while my Pikachu was sitting on my right shoulder.

"What's the hurry?" Misty asked. "He'll never learn," Brock mattered. I shook my head, "Nope." My Pikachu shook her head. "Cha," Ash's Pikachu said, sighing.

Next: - Chapter 14

[joz-yyh]

Rust - Ch. 4

SUMMARY: A “how they got together” and “where they are now” fic in which I detail how Damian and Tardif meet and consequently fall in love. No beta. Read at your own risk.

RATING: EXPLICIT (for violence / sexual themes)

PAIRING: Bounty Hunter x Flagellant

WORD COUNT: 9,661

READ ON AO3: Here

A/N: Very important note, but keep in mind this chapter is a FLASHBACK.

A mission at the warrens goes from bad to worse (warning for descriptions of decay and animal injury since Fergus is attacked and temporarily infected with a pestilence. She gets better, don’t worry). Expanding on Tardif and Paracelsus’ friendship (they taunt him relentlessly for comic relief and also because he deserves a slice of humble pie) as well as Damian and Willaim’s friendship (yay, trauma bonding). P.S. Tardif has the “Warrens Phobe” quirk and Paracelsus is nonbinary.

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Tardif can’t say he’s too excited about being assigned to the sewers. 

He's convinced their indisposed benefactor (who would rather delegate their orders through the groundskeeper and the town crier than address their recruits in person) gets some sick enjoyment out of exploiting his "condition." 

The blasted nurses had let it slip, the rumor mill running rampant, and Tardif has to disagree with the buzzing conspiracy because his mild discomfort isn't severe enough to be deemed a "phobia."

The bounty hunter is not squeamish, per say. He couldn't be, not when he's built a livelihood atop all the bounties he's slain, a throne of cadavers, a man-made undertaker, but the idea of sloshing about in disease-ridden orifices of unspeakable origin makes him whinge.

Tardif does little to hide his irritation, his reluctance indelible as their less than merry group travels to the dark, nauseating cradle of filth that awaits them.

The flagellant is in formation ahead of him, though the brooding mercenary refuses to acknowledge his existence, staring at the sickening ground, the gaudy sky, anywhere that isn't the slashed ribbons of the holy man's swaying back muscles.

Damian seems to follow his example, the religious chatterbox strangely misanthropic, even when it comes to the other members of their expedition party, his devout blessings left unawarded, revoked without cause and Tardif tries not to dwell on the reason why.

"I am curious, could you be any less pleasant," Paracelsus quips, poking their nose out from behind William, addressing the bounty hunter's stormcloud of misery.

"No less annoyin' than ye," Tardif derides with an ardent growl.

Maybe with one more body between them, he can muffle the sound of Paracelsus' gibberish, their voice having to pass through another ear on it's way to his, tolling it out, until it was spent entirely.

Putting his plan into effect, the bounty hunter breaks the line, striding past the flagellant, the mercenary swapping positions with him out of his own willful accord.

Aside from the abrupt shuffle and the light gasp of surprise, the morbid priest carries on with the change, the two men parallel forces on opposite plains.

The lead position now claimed for himself, the cramp that had been working it's way into his neck begins to abate at facing forward again. It's a temporary relief, the seedy view laid out before him just as terribly abysmal as any other part of the squalid mire of the warrens.

Suddenly, their progress stops. The line waits.

"What's the hold up," Para calls, their smaller height impeded by the backsides of the three taller men ahead.

"Blockages," Tardif grumbles, referring to the massive cave-in obstructing the way.

"You're one big blockage," Para groans rolling their eyes beneath the mask, hand on their hip for emphasis.

William's cheeks inflate with a stifled laugh, coughing into his hand to disguise it further.

Damian's exasperation is no different, an exhale hidden beneath a winded sniffle, the holy man shifting to hide it.

Tardif's eyes narrow behind his visor, darting between the two offending characters. He knows when he's being made a fool of.

"Only got two shovels," Tardif barks in retaliation, angling his voice towards the demanding, hooked-nose caboose and anyone else questioning his competence.

"And? You're fifty maybe, seventy five percent upper arm strength if you factor in the axe. You can handle it," the scientist retorts, failing to see the problem.

"I'll help clear it," Damian interjects, sustained by his own bare hands, volunteering his body in place of tools. He approaches the pile from the left, chipping away at what stone and debris he can wrap his bloody, masochistic fingers around.

"Yes, count me in too," William offers, the chivalrous sort, not one to stand idly by, "Paracelsus, would you mind looking after Fergus for me, please?"

The plague doctor nods, taking the hound by the collar and leading her a safe distance away.

Tardif has lost the grounds to argue, wielding the remaining shovel as he solemnly aids in the digging.

Paracelsus resides on an abandoned storage crate as they wait, the loyal canine sat beside them, passing time by throwing a leather-bound ball and petting gray fur to the tune of manly exertion and sifting dirt. As adorable as her shaggy scruff is, the plague doctor grows bored of such mundane activities, their posture bent into rigid crescent, their chin perched upon a gloved fist as they oversee the excavation of the wreckage.

"You done yet Armstrong," Paracelsus asks, a heavy sigh winding in the hollow space of their mask, the jeer aimed at none other than their favorite punching-bag Tardif.

"Keep rushin' me, bird brain," the bounty hunter threatens, driving the metal spade of his shovel into the rubble, "and yer gunna find out."

Para holds onto Fergus in mock distress, clutching svelte arms around the hound's collared neck.

"Oh Fergus, you'll protect me from this nasty squawking cockatrice, won’t you," the former med student begs, their voice a patronizing, ghostly tremble.

William and Damian lean outward from opposing ends of the dirt pile to exchange a look of levity, a silent audience to the insults that would make Sarmenti proudly laugh in glee if he were here.

"Not my fault we were under-prepared," the plague doctor taunts in a quieter voice meant for Fergus’ floppy ears, sticking their tongue out at the man, though the gesture is safely hidden beneath their face covering.

Tardif takes that affront personally, about to act on his baser instincts as he plants the shovel into the ground.

"OK, that's it," he growls, cracking his knuckles, preemptive of a fight.

Before he can move another muscle, a trickle of gravel hits the bounty hunter in the head, a clunky ping resonating off his helmet.

"Sorry," Damian offers, feeling responsible for the act of gravity, clawing at the embedded earth closest to the bounty hunter.

Then they hear it, the shrill screech of the diabolical thing they're meant to purge as clearly as nails being hammered into their ears. It sounds like the last wails of a butcher's slaughter, of grinding metal pipes bent into horrendous shapes and for a moment, everyone's blood runs cold as the tunnel shudders, more hulking debris falling down from above. The thing is close. This is a warning.

"I don't think you can take credit for that," William speaks softly, absolving the flagellant of any wrongdoing that he may have assumed.

Damian turns in his direction, gives him the barest traces of a smirk, a shallow nod of gratitude.

The houndmaster clears his throat, calling the rest of the group's attention. "Concentrate men," William says, his voice a dutiful, inspiring cry, "We're nearly through. Let's keep at it."

"Wait,” Damian says, uncovering a weak spot, “stand back."

With a few insistent scrapes, the remaining pile crumbles like a dam, an avalanche of filth skittering past their feet. A barrage of polluted dust clouds the air, the irritating particles invading the sinuses, those with masks immune to coughing it back out.

Fergus sneezes in response, her furry expression downtrodden as she returns to her master’s heel.

"Finally," Paracelsus says, hopping off their crate to give a ceremonious clap for William and Damian," good job you two."

Tardif simply growls at his being left out of the plague doctor’s applause.

The group presses on, greeted by their first encounter a few short paces later.

The boar-like creatures inhabiting this hell hole may appear crude and uneducated, but some prove to be strong and resourceful, intelligent enough to construct armor and weapons, the younger spawn using their much bigger counterparts as meat shields.

Tardif learns this the hard way, an aggro of spears, arrows and bile all rallied against him.

Paracelsus teases him about being too slow as well as too wide of a target (comparing him to clunky stagecoach of all things) before patching him up.

With a sharp whistle, William's trusted hound picks off the smallest and weakest runt, her maw tearing the swine's mutated flesh to pieces, putting an end to their dodgy tussle.

Fergus, the poor girl, hasn't been the same since.

As well trained a battle companion as she may be, her body and brain are first and foremost animal in nature. It isn't entirely unheard of for a scent or a sound to cater to distraction, but the degree in which the canine lags behind to circle the same spot, wanders around as if she's lost her way is cause for alarm.

"What's wrong girl," the ex lawman says, kneeling down to his four-legged friend's level.

Despite his outstretched hand, the hound shimmies away on her paws, tongue flopping out the side of her mouth, whimpering in pain.

The Scotch-Irishman’s expression turns bleak, fearing the worst conclusion, knowing the symptoms of such behavior.

"Something isn't right," he says, a note of desperation in his voice as he turns to address the group,"I'll need a moment to look after her."

Paracelsus shrugs,"Fine by me. I wanted to harvest some samples anyway."

"Hrm," the bounty hunter declares, a chagrin of annoyance heralded by the delay, but nonetheless tolerant.

"Very well," Damian accedes, ambivalent, his focus drawn to the tormenting obelisk on the other side of the room.

William reaches into the cache of supplies, searching for a homemade recipe of herbs and peanut butter, the medicine rolled into a treat.

He holds the tempting concoction in his palm, the hound coming to sniff at it suspiciously. Fergus snags the morsel between her teeth, dropping it down to the ground, clawing at it with her forepaws, picking off little bites.

William waits for the combination of ingredients to take effect, finding it strange that regurgitation never occurs.

Nervously, the blonde male rubs a hand through his straw beard, trying to think of another solution.

"Paracelsus, could I ask for a second opinion," William inquires, his wholesome features warped into a mixture of fear and concealed desperation.

The plague doctor finishes up gathering a souvenir of green plaque from the wall as part of their collective field study, turning their beak in his direction. They wipe the excess grime on dark robes, rocking the knifepoint of their swiveled dagger between gloved fingers as they approach.

"Before my prognosis," the scholar advises, their voice a muffled distortion caused by the mask, "I must warn you, my expertise lies in the human body, and while land mammals are quite similar, there are some discrepancies.”

"Even I can tell she's eaten somethin’ rotten,” Tardif grunts, impertinent, “Just look at her."

"Yes, thank you. I am aware. Nothing I try is working," William explains, his words polite at face value, though his expression is cross with umbrage.

"Nothin’ is workin’ because she's diseased,” Tardif counters, his repressed opinions coming to light, “Only a matter of time ‘fore she's turnin’ into one of them. The heir got it wrong, choosing you for this place."

The houndmaster glares at him, schooling his expression so as not to reveal how abhorrent he truly felt, “I think it's too early for us to be jumping to conclusions like that."

"There's a good chance he's right, you know," Paracelsus states, deadpan.

The beastmaster gapes at the pair of them, their cold, unfeeling bluntness stabbing like splinters down his spine. He should have known the good doctor wasn't the type to sugar coat the facts.

"I would have to run some tests, but from what I can see, she's mostly likely infested with parasites," says the chemist, relaying their analysis, “and judging by the mutagen, her affliction is going to get worse."

William goes quiet. Understandably, he's not thrilled by the news.

"There was an old laboratory table approximately 300 yards back," Para continues, "I can scrounge up something mediocre, though it would be completely experimental and I couldn't guarantee the outcome. Even under perfect conditions there are risks, unless you prefer I cut her open here, without any anesthesia?”

"Bawbags, the lot of you,” William seethes, reaching his wits end, “Surely, there are other options to consider. Between the three of us, there must be something we haven't thought of yet."

Despite his altruism, a telltale panic creeps it’s way into William, incurring a nervous sickness from it. So far, any attempts at finding a cure for Fergus have proven fruitless, his companions less than evangelical, but there is one man's counsel he hasn’t heard.

His eyes search for the man who’s gone astray and finds the flagellant standing beneath an ominous stone totem.

"Damian, could I seek your assistance," the beastmaster asks, hoping this morbid saint would produce for him a better result than the other two. If Junia could use the holy book to heal, perhaps he could achieve the same miracles as well.

At hearing his name, the priest breaks from his trance, surprised that the curse of this device had consumed his mind so, the suffering wails of the damned blocking out any previous thought.

He pulls his hand away from the decrepit altar, shaking off the residual stress of voices, his services needed elsewhere.

"Yes, of course,” the flagellant replies, heading towards the man that beckoned him, “but why call upon me?"

"Your …," William pauses, pondering how he could phrase his next words before continuing,"abilities … you can remove disease, yes? Do you think you could try it on Fergus?"

"I can't say I've used my blood on animals before, but I have faith," Damian reassures him.

Seeing that they were no longer needed, the scientist returns to their biology investigations, fascinated by squirming masses littering the chamber, kneeling down to scoop various samples into their petri dishes to examine for later.

Tardif is startled when the plague doctor backs into him, their bony elbow catching his side as they stand up from whisking around the spot he’s currently occupying.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were out of your element here,” they note, but there's no humor in it, merely a vocal recording of evidence. Their intrigue is reserved for the glowing green swirling about in the vial they've doused in some ph altering chemical.

"Do ye have to do that so close to me," Tardif grouses.

"You're the one standing in a mycelium colony," Para says.

The bounty hunter looks down, upturning his heel to assess the "colony" smeared across the tapered soul of his boot. He stomps his foot back down, attempting to scrape the tendrils off.

“Just hurry up and collect your toys so we can go,” Tardif grumbles, trying to avoid any more muck on the floor.

“Oh, you mean this,” They ask, shoving a sample of it in front of his face. It's black, like moldy seaweed and the bounty hunter doesn’t know how something so dead can still squirm around as it dangles precariously from the end of their tweezers.

“Gah,” Tardif cries, flinching away, trying to pretend he wasn’t revolted by the grime and failing.

William sighs at the brooding mercenary’s candid yelp, disappointed by the two stooges and their buffoonery.

“How can they be so carefree when we may very well be marching to our deaths down here,” the houndmaster speaks, confiding in the holy man, “This place is teeming with the screams of tormented beasts. I am afraid the sound is driving me mad.”

Damian says nothing as he holds Fergus’ paw in his hand, the soft pads swollen and crusty.

The hound master looks down at his furry companion, her body draped on it’s side, across his lap. He holds her muzzle in his hand, stroking along her side with the other, her erratic panting a constant concern.

��I am sorry, I am not quite myself. I am worried about her,” William explains, "Do you think your Light magic will work?"

“The Light is omnipotent,” Damian says, hovering his hand over her bloated stomach, the animal’s whistling, ragged whines intensifying, “I am merely a vessel to be tested. If she is meant to be saved, then she will be.”

The flagellant can feel something wicked brewing inside her gut, squirming to get loose. He concentrates on it, as if it were contained within his own holy flesh, calling forth the Light to exorcise the vile parasite before it grows into something more perilous.

The priest lowers his hand, less red than before, the toxic presence snuffed from the would-be host.

William regards him expectantly,"Well? How’d it go?"

"Your Fergus has a strong heart,” Damian adds with a close-lipped smile, “She'll make it."

In that moment, so consumed with gratitude and relief, the houndmaster has no choice, but to consider the flagellant of a more comely appearance (if only he smiled more like that).

He may have even kissed him if not for disturbing his beloved Fergus, but the houndmaster quickly squanders such absurd delusions.

"Perhaps we should make camp, give her sufficient time to recover," the ex-law man suggests.

Damian nods in accord, looking towards the other members of their party, pending their approval.

Tardif grunts,"Not sure how much good it will do, but aye, if we must."

Paracelsus is already leagues ahead of them, plopping down in a slightly less infested part of the room, arranging the stew kettle and firewood, using her dagger as a stand-in can opener for the rations.

Sticking to what he's good at, the bounty hunter keeps a lookout, the scrawling darkness of the conjoined tunnels prime candidates for an ambush, but despite the plausibility of danger, his eyes deviate from their post and towards the man he’d been so eager to avoid.

Impervious to the ick around them, the flagellant and the houndmaster seem to be making the best of it, the two batting eyelashes at each other and exchanging coy smiles as if it's the only emotion that exists.

He fixates on the way the deranged priest is gently consoling Fergus, nearly touching William's stagnant fingertips after each pass of his hand through her long fur.

Without realizing it, Tardif grinds his teeth until they ache, his jaw locked up from the pressure.

He already hates this mission. He's beginning to hate it even more.

“You sure you don’t want to eat,” the plague Doctor asks him, holding out a soup bowl swimming with inedible colors, “your metabolism is going to run out.”

The bounty hunter’s stomach leaps into his throat, though he maintains his facade, hoping the young upstart hadn’t caught his negligence.

He must've hid it well enough, Paracelsus showing no indication of teasing him about slacking off.

“Not hungry,” Tardif barks, petulant, turning his head away and crossing his arms in disgust to sell it further.

Paracelsus shrugs, shaking their head as they return their attention to disinfecting the rancid food, letting the bowl rest on their lap as they wait for the remedy to take hold.

“Suit yourself, but don’t come crying to me when your accuracy turns to shite. I am not wasting any of my vapors on you,” they say, lifting their mask to take a spoonful of slop into their mouth without a care for their health.

“Wouldn’t want ye to anyway,” Tardif says, “Can’t rely on blasted snake oil in a bottle.”

Paracelsus turns to him, the black, beady lens of their mask shining with an evil glint.

The doctor flicks their spoon at him and the surly man has to duck to avoid getting shot in the face with a trajectory of dubious porridge.

"I can’t wait to tell Boudica about your sissy squeals the moment we get back. She's going to have a field day with you,” the researcher snubs as they take another bite, chewing loudly with a brooding scowl.

"If ye survive that long," Tardif whispers under his breath, returning to a neutral stance.

"What was that," the scientist says pointedly, those lenses catching the torchlight with another foreboding shimmer.

"Nothin'," he grumbles, turning his back to them, crossing his arms obstinately.

At some point, the flagellant must've traversed the room, the priest now standing before them and what an awful sentry Tardif is turning out to be if he couldn't even signal his approach.

“Paracelsus, could you spare another bowl?"

Wordlessly, the plague doctor fulfills the request, handing over a hearty portion of stew.

"Thank you," the flagellant says before departing, Tardif nothing more than a figment, a ghost in the mist for all the concession Damian spares him.

He watches on as the priest offers the bowl to William, Fergus still resting across his legs as he reaches out to take it.

“What about you," William asks, hesitant to be the only one partaking,"Don't you need to eat?"

The flagellant shakes his head,“That's kind of you, but I have no need.”

At that, the houndmaster risks a bite, the odd earthy flavor going down hard, his dwindling appetite shrinking further.

“I'm pleased Fergus is on the mend,” the holy man says, "But you’re certain you do not wish to return? I would not hold it against you.”

"This old girl has been through worse,” William says, patting the arch of her back, the soup bowl growing cold in the other, “though, I’ll be doing the majority of the fighting from now on. For this mission at least."

Damian gives a shallow nod. “You may call upon me again,” he offers, “Should she ever need it.”

The hound master laughs, almost spitting out the overly salted broth.

“I may have to take you up on that."

—---

When they encounter the formless flesh, none of them expect it to be this abominably grotesque, this gigantic horde of undefinable chaos.

It starts out as nothing more than a few homogeneous blobs. Scattered and twitching, it rises from the floor, piles of flesh absorbed into a massive hog's head, bearing down on them with it’s innumerable black eyes and clamoring mouths.

Tardif grits his teeth for what seems to be the hundredth time. It really is turning out to be that kind of mission, so the huntsman sticks to old favorites, plays it safe with tried and true tactics, testing the waters to see what the dirt kicks up.

Paracelsus assails the mutant’s extremities in a cloud of blight, the corrosive antigen causing the undulating swine to squeal in aversion.

“It’s epidermis is weak," the plague doctor shouts, "Damian, make it beed!"

Just as their voice rings out, a tentacle breaks from the swarming mass of swineflesh, a fluid parasite outfitted with mandibles of teeth, destined to take a chunk out of the scholar's big mouth.

Living up to Para's earlier condemnation, Tardif is too slow, only catching the afterimage of it’s flexible body when it whips past him and thank the Light the plague doctor is the nimble sort, the attack missing them by a mere thread of their skirt.

Tardif is rattled, not just by his own ineptitude, but for the fraction of a second he had to consider how truly screwed they would have been without their eccentric wingman.

As much as the long-nosed pest had taunted him, the bounty hunter favored their presence over their absence, and while Paracelsus is fully capable of holding their own in a fight, the bounty hunter wasn't going to be caught in another disadvantage.

As soon as the sinuous parasite retracts back toward the sanctuary of it’s body, Tardif gets his revenge. With an overpowered swing, he chops the fragile thing in half, his axe cutting a groove into the floor, the effort leaving him panting and splattered with inhuman blood.

The creature reels, screeching in pain, the severed head of it's minion flopping about uselessly and Tardif stomps on the offending maggot to end its pathetic life quicker.

The swarming flesh transforms, it's mutant body molding into baleful fans of bone, each prong as tapered and sharp as a dagger's edge.

Tardif has been carefully memorizing all the creature’s tricks, each piece of the swine altering its shape independently, this configuration telegraphing it's next assault in vivid notoriety.

The houndmaster can sense it too, Fergus barking loudly in warning.

"Brace yourselves," William shouts, guarding his hound, defending himself with the bludgeon of his club.

The serpent-like bones strike the front, the branching tines aimed at the easiest target once, twice, thrice. It misses Damian on the fourth.

"Hold steady! I've got you laddie,” the houndmaster says, helping the hooded man to his feet.

Damian pushes him away, censure ripe in his voice as he speaks, “Forget me. Focus your efforts on protecting Paracelsus.”

"You can't keep going on the way that you are," William argues, gritting his teeth at the man’s stubbornness.

The flagellant pulls his hand away from his newly acquired wounds, his fingers drenched in a lacquer of crimson.

"This …,” Damian smirks, his gaze focused on the beautiful shade coating fist, “... this is nothing!"

He clenches his hand in morbid glee, his blood magic coming to life, healing the group by increments, losing a little part of himself every time his flesh is reopened in a new layer of scars.

Another unyielding blitz of bone zephyrs lash out at four heroes, sparing no one, landing devastating blows in rapid succession.

The onslaught leaves the group hobbled over, too preoccupied with their own stock of suffering to notice the flesh is winding up to strike at them again.

One such attack locks onto Damian and the man has no plans to refuse it's cruel, unforgiving touch.

There's a blinding streak of dark fur, a growl followed by an injured yelp, the hound discarded, lobbed into a heap.

It takes the flagellant a moment to realize that he's been saved by another, of how that knowledge tears into him more deeply than any physical pain ever could.

"Fergus,” William cries, running up to her prone body. The vigilante falls to his knees, abandoning his weapon to tuck his arms under her.

He clutches the canine's injured body against him, holding back tears as he sees the gash the swine had dealt to her muzzle. “By the Light, my sweet girl, what were you thinking.”

"We’re wearing it down," Para calls out, never losing sight of the battle, “strike it now, while it's weak!"

Tardif does. Damian does so harder.

Wracked by the slow passage of blight and bleed, the creature's body begins to break down, it's overinflated head lolling, it's beady, compound eyes heavy.

In regards to this, the monstrous appendages shift, mimicking the arches of vascular tubes, switching to a more passive strategy to knit what pieces are broken.

Tardif has a feeling this monster still has half a brain, enough to plot something beyond the obvious, hiding an ace up its sleeve.

It dawns on him then, why the creature went for Paracelsus first, why it made Damian the new focal point of it's repetitious attacks despite Tardif severing it's infiltrating parasite in half.

No healer meant no hope of resurgence and Damian was it's willing prey. With the holy man out of the way, the creature can take it's time picking off the rest of them, replenishing its reserves all the while.

Just like that, the swine comes for Damian, it's gaping maw unhinged, impossibly wide like a snake's to swallow the flagellant down, completely whole and alive.

"Out of the way!"

"Damian!"

"Move you moron!"

The suicidal fool is glued in place, gladly accepting his fate with open arms as the inflated mass of teeth consumes him right where he stands.

What remains of the expedition party is shocked into silence, watching on as the colossal beast closes around him like a hideous faberge egg.

The swine stills, it's grotesque web of muscles giving a rough spasm, then another, exponentially repeating until the beast is distended, releasing a choked shriek before it pops like a gorged balloon.

Gore splatters the walls, pieces falling to the floor with a sickening slap, the ever-present squeals that haunt the network of tunnels receding into a faint whisper, bowed in mourning of their slain brethren.

"Well, that's enough field study for one day," Paracelsus jokes off-handedly, picking off pieces of exploded viscera from their person.

“Mission’s over," Tardif remarks solemnly, “Time to head back.”

"But Damian … what's become of him," the houndmaster interjects, Fergus a morose bundle in his arms, "We can't just–"

"Leave him," Tardif snaps, venom in his throat, "If he's so eager to die for us, let him."

Williams mouth is agape, Paracelsus too seems rather taken aback by the unwarranted vehemence of his reaction.

"What right do you have to abandon him after he saved you, damn well saved us all,” the Scotsman argues, “I would carry him myself had I another pair of hands."

Tardif strides up to the ex-lawman, deathly serious. "He didn't save shite," the brute shouts,"the bloody bastard wanted to die. He chose this ending for himself all on his own. It had nothin’ to do with any of us."

"You … you don't know that," William says, a disbelieving murmur, unappreciative of the bounty hunter’s aggressive proximity.

"OK, enough," Para says, wedging themselves between the two men, spreading them apart with their minimal arm span.

"We're taking him back," William says, finding his voice again, his well of courage.

"Yer welcome to drag his useless corpse around if ye feel so inclined," Tardif grunts, affording himself the winner of the dispute.

"When I said ‘we,’ I meant you," William sneers, teeth clenched into a sharp corner beneath his mustache.

Tardif hadn't calculated for that response, his obscured eyes growing obtuse then narrow.

"Get bent," the brute spits.

"If you leave the decision to me,” Paracelsus chimes in, one an eyebrow arched beneath their mask, “he's coming back in pieces. As in dismemberment. For ease of transport."

Tardif shrugs. He could care less about how the plague doctor planned to package him up.

“Let me put it another way,” Paracelsus offers, altering their voice into something more crass, “If I have to tell the heir that you left one of their favorite playthings here to rot, you’re going to be a very unhappy man when they decide to ban you from the tavern and everywhere else for that matter. Then, dock your pay.”

William and Paracelsus stare Tardif down, the man showing no signs of acceptance, his demeanor stationary and mute.

“So what’s it going to be,” the negotiating intellectual prompts in urgent ultimatum, “you in or not?”

"Fine,” Tardif snarls, jerking his head in reluctant accord, “I'll square away the baggage. Now, get goin'.”

The science aficionado nods their beak in approval, delegating the next task at hand.

"William, I'll take point."

The houndmaster means to protest, suspicious of leaving Damian alone with Tardif.

Just as well, allowing the petite researcher and their seemingly delicate constitution to lead them back home went against his own quixotic romanticism, principle driving his motivations.

"Whatever you're about to say, don't,” Paracelsus warns, “Tardif will do what he has to. And I am more than capable of retracing our steps back to the entrance and gutting whatever stands in our way."

The ex-lawman tacitly agrees.“Do what's right, Tardif,” he portends, “or else the heir won’t be the only one with a bone to pick.”

The hound master gives one last look at their unfortunate comrade before following the plague doctor down the passageway.

Once they're both out of sight, the brute takes a few paces forward, just close enough for his words to carry.

From here, the flagellant is frightfully charming, hatched from the monster’s nefarious gammon, frozen and stillborne, coated in a yolky membrane of entrails.

"Get up, we're goin'," Tardif orders, hard-pressed to even waste his breath on the tone-deaf fool.

Damian remains as he is, knee-deep in the ruddy pool of burst flesh, the monster’s rotting corpse tainting what breathable air there was left.

"Did I not hear you,” the flagellant sneers, a terse citation, twisting his neck just enough to catch the edges of the bounty hunter’s silhouette looming behind him, “Is this not where I am meant to be?"

Ah, so the flagellant was still alive.

"Then stay for all I care, and spout all the useless drivel ye want," the mercenary scoffs, losing what little scraps of patience that still clung to his sanity.

He turns away from the murk, grateful his mask filters some of the awful stench.

“What is it, bounty hunter,” Damian scorns at the wet slap of retreating steps, “Am I not dangerous enough for you?”

Of all the things he thought the flagellant would say, Tardif never guessed it would be that. The brute pivots on his heel, turning to stare at the man’s scarred back, thoroughly speechless.

The flagellant finally stands up from his crouch, tense with an imploding star of wrath, so many atoms of light beating inside of him, his entire body shaking with the strain of it. He strides toward the bounty hunter, getting too close too fast, a biblical sea of thrashing red.

Tardif waits til the last second to side step, repelling away as Damian’s blood-soaked hands reach out to snag the fabric of his cowl, missing him by a needle's length.

"Why else would you turn away from me, if not for this,” Damian laments, hurt more by the mercenary’s flinch of rejection than the grueling battle that's left him bleeding out. The holes that the monstrous beast bore into the flagellant's flesh still gushing with vital spurts of crimson.

Why would anything Tardif does matter so much to Damian?

“That thing knocked all yer screws loose, didn’t it,” the brute scoffs, feeling a drop of unease, his pulse quickening, but he thinks that just might be the paranoia that something else more threatening than Damian is lurking about.

"Am I too predictable? too loyal,” the flagellant asks, growing more desperate as the words roar past his throat, his canines splattered with blood, "Have I disappointed you? Fallen short of your expectations? Are we too different? Too opposite?"

Tardif hadn’t realized he'd backed himself into a wall, his gloves sticky and putrid with the slime of it. He makes an exasperation of disgust.

This seems to fuel the fanatic even more, his lanky frame bowing forward, cornering the bounty hunter. How many times must they dance this same, tired song?

“What must I do? Are my intentions not clear enough for you? Must I drive them in further," Damian tells him, his arm an iron bar jabbing into the stonework, above the huntsman's helmet.

Damian's body is slick with gore, enough to stain every part of Tardif that he now presses against, the curdling, tangy scent of the sticky substance overbearing, his nostrils flaring at the pungency.

The flagellant smirks, breath ghosting over the shorter man's clothed ear, "Use that rope of yours and give me another lesson to learn."

Part of Tardif wants to give into the cruel twist, to bind him into submission, but he's already let the holy man walk in his shadow once, a mistake he can't seem to blame on stale mead and mindless curiosity, and the bounty hunter refuses to re-live a pain he's sworn never to have again. He can't. He won't.

"Ye bloody fool, are ye too cracked to see yer dyin'," Tardif grunts.

The flagellant cackles, unhinged, no longer a man, but something else more wild and fargone," With death, brings clarity. If you wish it, I would die for this, for you. It would be my greatest act. Do not keep me waiting, Tardif. Finish it, now. This existence only causes pain."

"No," Tardif says with a finality as grim and sharp as a guillotine.

That one word makes Damian's face contort, a twitch of anger not unlike a death throe, lips pulled down into the corner of his clenched teeth with a sagging snarl.

"Then, I'll make you," Damian growls, his nose wrinkling with the depth of his meaning, pulling out his flail from behind his back, easing it from the sash in his robes. The chains unfurl, swinging in a glittering, metallic hymn, a trickling pendulum of demise.

It takes only a second for the stare-down of idle tension to become a whirlwind of blind fury and his time, when Damian lunges, swings, an array of spikes catch Tardif, tearing a gaping hole in his cowl, just missing his throat.

Tardif's instinct takes over, too lost in the adrenaline of survival to acknowledge his own swell of anger bubbling up, his hands grasping for the handle of his axe with expert precision.

He parries, deflecting the next maelstrom that comes, a sickening pang of steel that sparks and echoes, eclipsing the distant squeals of malformed beasts.

The two weapons collide, a reverberating volley, as the flagellant holds nothing back, the piercing rain of blood slashing him open, ripping open new gashes on Tardif’s axe-wielding arm, just over his shoulder.

One such attack hits with perfectly curved momentum, the cerberus-headed weights of the priest’s fail wrapping around a gloved wrist, and the more that Tardif tries to tug his hand free, the more the chains tighten around him, disabling it’s use.

"When," Damian asks, gritting his teeth, advancing a step, "if not by death, in what form will I be enough for you?”

Of all the stupid, ill-begotten rants he could be going on about, the flagellant chooses this to be his eulogy.

Damian could solve all their problems now, heal them both with his Light magic and be done with this pointless skirmish, but the bastard would rather stick both feet in the grave.

The bounty hunter grips the flail's metal with his free hand, yanking the weapon forward and the flagellant along with it.

"When," the mercenary barks, "Ye really want to know when, ye bloody idiot?"

He takes the opportunity to backhand the cowled freak, following it up with a swift kick to the stomach, pulling himself off balance in the process, the two weathered fighters still attached.

Tardif snarls, swinging out his axe to compensate, the curved blade cutting across the flagellants chest, collarbone to ribcage, his self-preservation gene nonexistent.

The man gushes like a fountain of stringy red bouquets, wavering on his feet, no doubt woozy from blood loss, the dramatic lines of hot air he was toting before finally expended.

Seizing the moment, Tardif digs into one of his leather pouches on his belt, finding the small bottle of knock-out vapor that he borrowed from Paracelsus' lab.

He crushes the bottle inside his fist, the leather saving him from the pinch of thorny glass shards. His glove now soaked with the compromising chemical, he shoves it in the flagellant's face, covering his nose and mouth simultaneously with his palm.

"This is when," Tardif tells him, meeting his eyes in defiance.

The effects are instantaneous, Damian's eyelashes fluttering like a bird’s wings, his conscience evaporating like a billow of smoke as he crumples, completely limp in the bounty hunter's arms.

Maybe it's just the waning edge of the inciting battle, the mounting of his wounds, but the flagellant proves to be heavier than he looks.

The brute lowers them both down, the flagellant still clutched feebly in his grip as he sits amongst the rotting muck, taking a temporary reprieve to steady his breath.

It's not long before his mind wants to explore the subliminal context of what took place, but he won't allow it, springs to action instead, stripping off his soiled glove, discarding into the trash heap of this cancerous wasteland.

He reaches into his utility belt for another capsule he acquired from Paracelsus, cracks it open like the chemist had demonstrated (not necessarily taught) during one of their many experiments.

The kinetic energy has a domino effect, creating a foam to cauterize the gaping holes in the flagellants' wounds.

He doesn't have the resources to address every deep gouge presented to him (there were far too many for his limited supply), so he fills in the largest ones he can find, binds whatever's leftover in a roll of bandages.

The results are better than nothing, a temporary fix until he can get him to a proper medic.

As he looks over what remains of the flagellant, a repressed, infinitesimally small part of him prays that the stubborn bastard lives just so that he can beat the ever loving shite out of him when he recovers. Maybe then, he'll finally learn some sense.

—---

William frowns, eyes settling on the impending bruise of twilight.

“Something's gone awry,” the houndmaster declares, his keen intuition focused on the sinister aura emitting from the sewers, "they’ve been in there too long.”

"Unsurprising,” Para remarks, “knowing those two. Tell me you're not suggesting that we go back in after them, are you?”

William is contemplative, about to open his mouth to speak when another's arrival cuts him off. The two heroes turn in unison to scuff of heavy footsteps, an oddly-shaped shadow emerging from the sluice.

It's Tardif – the lumbering mercenary carrying Damian's battered body on the crest of shoulders.

"You're looking a bit worse for the wear,” the plague doctor jeers, noting the appearance of the bounty hunter’s slashed cowl and the uncommon sight of his stubble underneath, “Run into some trouble?"

"Hrm," Tardif informs, kneeling down to rest a knee on the dirt road, looking over-encumbered, "I've staunch his wounds."

Para skitters over, inspecting the human-shaped lump on his back.

"So I see," the plague doctor says, "Decided to use my prototype, eh? I was wondering where it had run off to. Your application could have been better. He's … oozing."

Tardif grunts haphazardly, too tired to bicker. He knew he botched it up.

"Probably shouldn't move him too much," Para continues, assuaging what they can of the improper first-aid, "not that we have much of a choice.”

"Then let's be off," William suggests, Fergus held prostrate in his arms, "We're all in need of Hamlet and it's comforts tonight."

Silently they all agree, forming a single file line as they march towards the familiar, muted skyline of civilization.

—-

The flagellant gasps, shooting awake as if rising from the grave. The numbing haze of sleep is shed, the temporary mercy of oblivion exchanged for the bitter tidings of consciousness.

His flesh burns as if branded by fire, cut apart then reassembled, melted and yet not. It runs deep inside, the source tucked under his skin where he can't reach.

"Calm down. Yer safe now,” a gruff voice tells him, though he can't place whose.

The world around him is confused, mottled, spinning with indiscernible shapes as a pair of hands levy against his shoulders, pushing him to lay back down.

Damian is helplessly submissive to the insistent weight, overwhelmed by liminal sensation, his nerve endings firing off more explosive bursts of pain.

His bloodshot eyes blink, wild and derelict as they adjust, trying to make sense of the weaving silhouette before him, cloaked against a backdrop of sunlight.

"Did you see the Holy Light? How it shined down upon us,” Damian asks, looking upwards towards the ceiling of vaulted beams, the sunrays streaking in from the tall gothic windows.

After a sobering pause, the priest surveys his hands, flexing them open and closed, trying to decide if he truly had perished.

"Did it not take me," he remarks softly, a delicate realization that may shatter his illusion of calm.

"Not just yer head, but ye need yer eyes checked too," the voice says, reaching out to grip the flagellant's chin, angling his face to get a better look at his injuries.

Damian is compliant, letting the investigative hand turn him every which way, mediating his time until his sight finally returns.

Tardif wonders how long it will take him to realize he's been stripped of his bloody cowl, the nurses divesting him of it the moment he was brought in for treatment, that these touches the bounty hunter places against his jaw are more than just simple inspection.

It's difficult to keep his fingers placid, treading further into caressing rather than assessing his wounds, his pale face littered with more cuts and bruises than skin. He takes note of some of the bigger scars, one slashing down his lips, another across his forehead and over his cheek. The bounty hunter has to wonder if there is anywhere on his body that’s left unmarked.

Tardif takes advantage of the disorientation, amazed by how red the flagellant's eyes are, wants to attribute the unnatural pigment to another occupational hazard, but judging from the rest of him, now cleaned and bandaged up, he’s incredibly pallid underneath, almost colorless. The brute realizes then, just how much of him was caked in layers upon layers of vermilion. Passion has always been his favorite color. Seeing it drives the bounty hunter mad like a bull.

Blearily, the owner of the voice comes into focus, the studded helmet and chainmail unmistakable, a revelation that makes the flagellant recoil from him instantly. With a snarl, he slaps the offending hand away, favoring the side of the bed that's farthest from Tardif.

The bounty hunter sighs, derisive, taking the rebuffing outburst in stride.

"What do ye remember,” Tardif asks, pulling up a nearby stool.

“I remember you,” Damian scorns, growling like a feral cat cornered by betrayal.

The flagellant has never regarded him with such rabid distaste before. Even during their unfortunate mishaps at the warrens, this side of him is in a word: new.

Tardif shivers. He sort of likes the look of resentment on the fanatic's usual cheshire face.

"What is it ye remember 'bout me," the bounty hunter asks, tempering his voice.

He won't mention how his own memory is alive with the swing of that accursed flail, how Damian forced his hand, made them enemies, his wrist still bearing the marks of the chainlinks under his glove.

Tardif's words spark some sensibility in him, the flagellant going quiet as he searches his memory for an answer. The cutthroat brigand can tell he's come across some damning recollection, the widening of his flaming eyes gives him away, but the holy man is quick to conceal it.

“Why are you here,” Damian deflects, turning the tables, his pale brows pressed into an inquisitive "v," of accusation.

Why is he here?

It's a good question, one the bounty hunter could have dodged entirely if he simply left before the bloody fool woke up.

“Wanted to make sure draggin' yer sorry ass wasn't a waste,” the brute tells him, standing up from his seat.

Tardif hates having a debt to repay (would rather die than carry that weight on his conscience), but the flagellant had once again stuck his nose in where it didn't belong, made him compromise his carefully crafted code, his rules of survival.

The bounty hunter tells himself it doesn't matter anymore, that they're even now, a life for a life.

Seeing no other reason to stick around, the somber mercenary takes his leave.

He doesn't expect Damian to call out his name.

Tardif pauses, waits.

The flagellant is bereft, clearly surprising himself, his voice ostensibly compelled.

"Tardif…," he says again, slower, quieter, before trailing off into silence.

Damian doesn't know what to say beyond that, praying that this one word would be enough to keep this cold unfeeling man by his side a little longer.

There’s a beat, an echo that alerts Tardif to the company of the nurse, her heels making a loud clack against the stone as she enters the medical ward. The bounty hunter is sure she’s the same gossip that leaked his own evaluation, passing it on to every ear in Hamlet that would listen.

Tardif admits he wasn't the easiest patient to deal with. Knocking over medical equipment and refusing treatment, not to mention the destruction of property and the allegations of assault gives him the distinct feeling that her motivations were personal.

He growls at her as she steps up to Damian's bed, the nurse returning his glare briefly.

"Checks,” the nurse explains, skimming over the medical chart hanging at the foot of the mattress.

"As you can see, I'm fine," Damian insists, trying to wave her away.

"I'll be the judge of that," she declares, reading over the notes, "ruptured eye socket, retinal artery occlusion resulting in acute blindness, internal hemorrhaging, massive abdominal trauma … the list goes on. According to your papers, there’s a lot that’s not fine with you.”

Having made her point, the nurse sets the chart back into place, Damian still adverse to the idea of her wasting time on facilitating his recovery.

"Tardif," Damian calls, nearly frantic, trying to chase the man's receding form as the nurse pries at him for a full physical appraisal, "Come back to visit me later. There's something I want to give you."

The bounty hunter doesn't answer, already bound for the exit, but the flagellants' plea reaches him whether he wants it to or not.

He passes William on his way out, brushing shoulders with the man as they mirror each other in the hall.

The ex-lawman doesn't stop, bound for the same room, the same patient Tardif had just come from.

There is something moderately distressing about his presence here, an instinct telling the bounty hunter to stay close by. Going with his gut, he sidles up against the stonework just outside the doorway, eavesdropping in on the conversation.

"William, hero or not, I must remind you that we do not permit animals beyond the front door,” the nurse reprimands.

"My apologies,” William replies, sheepishly rubbing his beard, “I heard dogs can do wonders for the healing process."

"Yes, I’ve heard the same,” she says, frowning critically, “please see to it that you remember this rule from now on. It's important for sanitation."

“Yes, yes of course,” he says, rubbing the nape of his neck, bowing bashfully as she departs.

"William,” the flagellant greets, putting on an uplifting smile, “to what do I owe the honor?”

Tardif finds he's grinding his teeth again. It’s beginning to become a nasty habit.

How easily he's been forgotten, replaced.

"Fergus wanted to see how you're doing," the houndmaster says with a smirk, the adorable mutt's wet nose pointed up, her tail wagging.

"Did she," Damian laughs, leaning over to pet her gray mop of hair, masking the throb of pain that comes with performing the gesture.

The furball startles them both, delightfully impulsive as she jumps up onto the bed to lick his face.

"As you can see, Fergus is back to her old self again," William chuckles, letting the old girl smother the flagellant in affectionate kisses.

"I knew she would," Damain says, folding his hands over her ears, "She would not have recovered so quickly if not for your care as well."

"I can't tell you how grateful I am for what you did," Willam says, as sincere as ever.

“Think nothing of it," the macabre healer replies, the two men sharing an emphatic look of respect.

Fergus turns around in Damian's lap, her paws stepping on and over his legs to sit herself down on them, looking quite pleased with her recent accomplishments.

Tardif hates the look of that damn smile, gentle and effortless, how it only seems to show itself around William, so unlike the half-crazed grins the flagellant usually fixes him with.

It's infuriating how soft Damian's tone becomes, the same friendly camaraderie the two displayed at the warrens played out for him here again. The flagellant never relaxes for him like that, never looks so relieved to have him near.

"There's something else," the houndmaster admits after a long, awkward pause, his brown eyes averted as he wrings his hands together nervously.

Curious, Damian waits for the man to finish his thought.

"I wanted to apologize," the ex-lawman sighs, the statement seeming to exhaust him after speaking it aloud.

Damian shakes his head, offering a consoling smile, "William, there's no need–"

The Scotsman keeps his expression firm, holding up his hand in a silent interruption, "No, not just for my own actions, but for theirs as well."

The implications hit Damian far more than expected, the holy man's expression going sour. He scowls, scarred hands gripping at the hound’s fur coat before leaving off, smoothing out the coarse pelt with shallow stokes, trying to occupy his thoughts with something more pleasant.

"I … I do not hold you responsible for them,” Damian concludes, the words grinding like stone, “but I appreciate it nonetheless.”

"I'll be adding a few extra coins to the collection plate when I visit the Abbey to pray for your recovery," the bearded man remarks, hoping to alleviate the mood.

Damian’s eyes widen in shock, quick to correct the man's flawed methodology, "While I am not one to deter holy devotion, there are others who–"

"Yes,” William interjects, “there may be, but I still want to.”

An affirming smile follows, one that the priest's struggles to contest, the rebuttal dying in his throat.

“You’re … very kind, William,” Damian praises, accepting his compassion more easily than not, “Thank you.”

Tardif is going to throw up.

The insistent tap of an impatient black heel gives privy that the nurse has returned, a tray of dressings in her hand as she stands waiting for the houndmaster to depart.

"I really must insist you take her outside," the nurse maid utters, her grimace one of disapproval as she spots the paw prints on the once pristine white sheets.

The shaggy dog barks in objection, Fergus perfectly content to stay where she is.

The nurse flinches at the aggressive yip, releasing a cry of exclamation.

"Apologies, miss. We'll be going now," the Scotsman says, "Be well Damian. Fergus looks forward to seeing you back on your feet again."

"I appreciate you coming to see me,” Damian replies, giving Fergus a final pat on the head, “May the Light watch over you both.”

"You too my friend," the houndmaster says, calling Fergus to his side with a whistle and a snap of his fingers. The four legged beast whines a sassy reluctant yelp, but ultimately obeys her master's orders.

—-

As William descends the steps leading back into town, a loitering shadow calls out to him from the dark.

"Past visitin’ hours ain't it," Tardif remarks, an aggressive edge to his voice, a whetstone sharpening a knife.

His soliciting shape emerges from the obscure recesses of the building, coming into view with the same off-putting energy that he brought with him to the mission.

"It's the least I could do for the man who saved our lives,” the flaxen vigilante snaps, his attempt at being cordial slipping by the second, “That being said, would it kill you to show some gratitude?"

"Never asked to be saved," Tardif barks, agitated that anyone would suggest he would need saving in the first place. It reeks of poor taste and bad memories.

"Maybe so, but you need not ask for such a thing for it to be given," the Scotsman argues, his fists clenching, amazed by the gall of this erring brute.

The air of contention between them rises, an electric spark of rivalry that has the two heroes staring each other down, on the verge of beating their respective faces in when Fergus intervenes.

Her forepaws tap against the bounty hunter's belt buckle, standing on her hind legs, sniffing at him and wagging her tail.

The steadfast hound has never been this openly affectionate with him before. Her jowls had a reputation to maim so Tardif is justifiably cautious when he reaches out to pat her on the head.

The old girl doesn’t give him the chance, her tongue eagerly lapping at his hand before he can move too far.

Things suddenly click together inside the bounty hunter's head. It’s the blood. Damian's blood.

Tardif is still slick with the scent of him, even more so after carrying the flagellant all the way back here to the Sanitarium only to watch over his bedside and man-handle every curve of his exposed face.

Inadvertently, it seems the flagellant had saved him again.

The sight of his best friend’s disarming behavior drains the fight right out of William. He shakes his head at such petty ridiculousness, too old for jealous suitors and back alley brawls.

"Take from my advice what you will, but we should all make good use of the time that we're given," the ex-lawman says, "Who knows how long any of us have left on this rock; especially here, especially now.”

Tardif holds his gaze, stone-faced behind that helmet of his, idly petting Fergus.

William can only sigh in return. He swears having a conversation with this thick-headed ruffian is the equivalent to talking to a brick wall.

"Time for us to get going," the houndmaster says, clicking his tongue for Fergus to follow, heading in the direction of the barracks, “Good evening to you, Tardif.

The bounty hunter grunts in reply, letting the vigilante go on about his way, trusty wolfhound in toe.

The churlish brigand had been so thirsty for a fight. To this day, it remains one of the few ways in which Tardif can blank out his mind, free it from earthly shackles of doubt and regret, but here he was left to wrestle with these emotions despite how badly he wants them to end.

He debates on whether or not he should go back inside, if it was better to let the idiot rest for the duration of the night. The flagellant would need it in order to clear his head of the metaphorical clutter, the deep-set radical delusion (if such a feat were possible).

No matter how long Tardif stares up at the faded menagerie of stars on the horizon, it doesn’t give him the answer.

{End Chapter}

[thefairefolk-rp]

Welcome back, Eli! Your application for Ivy Stone has been accepted!

OOC INFORMATION:

Name/Nickname: Eli

Age: 23

Pronouns: They/Them

Timezone: PST

Activity and Availability: A few times a week

IC INFORMATION:

Desired Character: Ivy Stone

Second Choice Character: Raven Beedle

What made you choose this character?: I chose this character because a Halfling in an Unseelie court seems like a terrible contradiction. And yet… the Stones pull it off. How would Ivy Stone react to a court that loathes their existence? I imagine they have questions about why their mother chose the Unseelie court, knowing that leaving Ivy behind might be the cost of their alliance. I imagine that, given the war started when Ivy resembled an eighteen-year-old human, there would have been a lot of questions about what growing up in this new world would be like.

Are there any changes you would like to make?: This isn’t so much of a change as it is an interest in connections – but I’m thinking to have an established connection between Ivy Stone and Hyacinth Aven (of any kind, really). Also, I imagine Ivy Stone to be quite confused by the presence of Mikhael Thorson.

Questions/Comments: More just general comments, but I imagine the following connections with currently taken characters as possibilities (though there would be some plotting with these muns!):

Ivy Stone and Freya Briar as childhood friends, potentially.

Ivy Stone and Argos Caraway as enemies, with Argos dealing some damage while the King looks away.

Ivy Stone may fear being spied upon by Alekto Bone.

Ivy Stone and Aubrey Crane as unwitting accomplices, in a very “so who do you work for” kind of way.

Ivy Stone may pick up upon the fact that Rye Hawthorne is conflicted about his position.

Ivy Stone may feel some sympathy toward Rosemary, but mostly, toward baby Becan.

Writing Sample (Must be 300 words or more, third person limited, in the character you’re auditioning for’s point of view):

I attempted a few paras. The one below is complete, but I also want to show you a few incomplete drafts:

Attempt 1: https://docs.google.com/document/d/13K58ftVEiieEvi6CevvwmS96-UUd0SMvLWfimLFKLJ8/edit?usp=sharing

Attempt 2: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1GUNO95_RR6GYfBnf7TDutEVxTPBpVG4obRJLL1k54BU/edit?usp=sharing

Ivy Stone could count the number of bridges that their dearest mother burned when she ultimately decided to back King Oberon Aven in the unholiest of wars.

The number of bridges could be counted by the number of families that ultimately remained loyal to Queen Mab Bloom, with new bridges built for every Unseelie family that Eris Stone ultimately befriended – if friendship were even an appropriate word for it. Friendship was a word to describe loyalty, but beyond that, a particular bond. Friend described a little Pooka boy Ivy had once fought for a prized necklace. The swiftness with which the Pooka boy had snatched the little locket made Ivy think he belonged to the Foxes. With that in mind, Ivy had gone after him, picking up a heavy fallen branch along the way, more out of impulse than anything else. To their own surprise, Ivy managed to catch up. They should have known better; the Pooka boy had not been running, but simply waiting, watching, grinning as he revealed a weapon of his own.

Another branch. That would have made Ivy laugh, if they even had the time to do so. But they didn’t; the Pooka boy committed to a low swing that made Ivy trip, and the little halfling knew they were up for a fight.

Fight was a laughable word. Scuffle would have been better. Upon landing on their ass, Ivy scurried backward to put distance, watching as they picked up upon the Pooka boy’s movements. In one hand, he held the stick. In the other, he held the necklace, which he tucked away in a pocket that – now that Ivy noticed – was far too big to be secure. Though the Pooka was swift with his stick, he failed to prevent Ivy from getting back on their own two feet, after which Ivy settled on making the Pooka move around enough to let the necklace slip out of his pocket.

He wasn’t quite Fox-like enough to make an effective thief, Ivy had decided. Nor was he an effective enough fighter to be fully wolven. It was then that Ivy had pinned him accurately as a half-breed between the two, though his halven nature was far different from their own.

The scuffle was their introduction. They were right; the Pooka boy was half-Fox, half-Wolf. His name was Odhran Heron, and Ivy had nicknamed him Mousebird.

The bridge that Ivy had maintained with Mousebird remained steady throughout the war, for a few reasons. Wolves had allied with the Unseelie King, and the Foxes followed suit, or so it seemed, but neither clan seemed to have a particular problem with humans – and by extension, those like Ivy. And what with the Stones’ estate settled atop the swamplands, the Wildlands were only a short trek away.

There, they would find Mousebird, and they would confide all of their worries.

The first worry: that with King Oberon Aven’s increased harshness toward humans, Eris Stone may dispose of Ivy and never let them come home. To which Mousebird replied, “You needn’t worry. I have plenty of space in my cave. You know the hidden paths here, in any case. But you may need to prove yourself. Don’t worry, though. I’ve seen you fight. You can’t carry a weapon for crap, but you’re sneaky. I think you can do it.”

Eris Stone never disposed of Ivy. But the treatment of humans became increasingly difficult to watch, with Ivy’s earliest inaction causing them to toss and turn in their sleep. They recalled first being welcomed to Roheim castle, sitting in a rocking carriage with Poppy to their left, and Eris Stone across from them, both family members holding handkerchiefs to their noses. Though Ivy Stone had coughed some, they hadn’t felt nearly as bothered by the thick Hemlock City air as their sister and mother.

Just outside their carriage window, enslaved humans had labored over iron metal, their backs struck by hard leather whenever they worked too slow. Ivy had a brief thought that these humans could touch this iron with their bare hands, and thus use it against their masters. Then, Ivy had the not-so-brief thought that they, themself, could wield a similar weapon, bare-handed.

It was these weapons that Ivy would later come to steal in the nighttime. The second worry that plagued Ivy Stone throughout the war was inaction – that is, doing nothing as their mother backed a tyrant, worrying that their own half-human existence was regarded as a subversive threat in and of itself. In thinking that, Ivy fretted that they would be watched everywhere they went. The first alleviation of this worry was the ease with which Ivy traveled from their swampy estate to the natural Wildlands.

The second was recruitment into the Nighthawks, where they could use their iron-immunity to an advantage.

Bridges fell, and the Stone family built new ones in their place. The Stones loved the Blooms once. They were cousins – family. Queen Mab was a dainty, but hardened ruler, and her uncle Cypress – by extension, Ivy’s distant cousin – a lover of art and music. And Henry Duffy, a human changeling lovely taken into Queen Mab’s care. Yet Eris could see no similarity between Mab’s love for her changeling and her own protectiveness of young Ivy, and declared there was nothing there for the Stones. Along with that, the Stones severed themselves from the Briars, the latter of whom became subject to the strangest of news after the war came to an end.

It was the strange half-clan Mousebird that told Ivy Stone of this. Not out of a want for gossip, not out of a fear for Ivy, or anything typical of what Ivy may expect from court talk or family talk. One night, Ivy had slipped out of the swamplands and into a den of Wolves, only to learn from Mousebird that a Wolf girl’s poor mother died. Some time after that death, a Seelie noble by the name of Harland Briar had come for the Wolf girl, acknowledging her as his daughter before she went off with him to live among Wisteria’s nobility.

The story itself was enough to make the halfling scream and screech and send rocks flying all around the cave, angry that this Wolf girl had better luck than Ivy Stone and their angry, unfortunate human kin.

[snowtimeisbesttime]

Thoughts and questions (remix) on Friendsim Volume 15.

-in this house we stan Charun and Wanshi, Best Trolls 2kForever. // Charun's Troll Call bulletpoints weren't changed; more on Wanshi's on her section.

-I really loved pretty much everything about this volume! The music, the art, the writing…

Charun:

-and we start Charun’s route with a explicit mention of Boldir’s good end… and Karako’s bad end. However, Wanshi’s route implies that the good endings are canon… and the bad ones, nightmares.

-Charun’s title is Worm of Rage, obviously. Jokes aside, they’re likely a Thief or a Rogue- we meet them because they wanted to take the lens from the telescope in what the MC calls the world’s most pathetic attempt at theft (paraphrased), and if you decide to look for more manageable trash instead of carrying the lens down the cliff, they say they’d come back for it regardless of the MC holding on to it for them. Later on, they outright steal Azdaja’s and Konyyl’s tracker, and leave us there to deal with the consequences.

-More Stealing Class Stuffs: the MC can’t stay mad at said pathetic attempt at theft, which also indirectly gets the MC out of their friendship-related funk. Also, they probably spend all their waking hours either looking for stuff for their art (as in going out and seeking for it, thief stuff?), or making said art.

-Speaking of Azdaja and Konyyl, they were tracking somebody (let’s hope it wasn’t Charun…). They’ve also added spades to the quadrant mix that is their relationship, it seems. We’re probably not going to learn anything more about this before Act 2 (but if we do it’ll likely come from Konyyl, because Azdaja prefers waxing anime antagonist every time he’s on-screen).

-While we’re with the cameos, Cirava’s here too! They’ve only liked some of Charun’s PincerSpam (that’s troll instagram right?) posts so far, but I think they’d get along pretty well.

-Charun did the :o3 thing with their scarf!!!!

-Random stuff in Charun’s hive highlights:

some random troll???? They look like they’re in a portrait but their hands seem to be interacting with the thing in front of them… They also kinda look like Tyzias.

what seems to be a motherfucking dragon skull

a really large dead bug with long legs???? or at least only the legs

a DIY robot

a large chunk of a boat??? with one of those figures that go on the front side of a boat (mascarón de proa… apparently they’re just named figureheads in English?) and everything, and also a fucking toilet on top of it (not the toilet, apparently and luckily.)

somehow I missed Lil Cal completely, but regardless: DREAD // EXTREME dread. If best worm gets gamzee'd (ie turned into a plot device because of lord english bullshit) i'm going to fucking scream

-I thought the whole eating worms thing was kind of a convenience thing? Like, you’d expect there’d be worms in a cave, and they’d probably make for a nice snack after hours of Art (para matar el gusanillo, nunca mejor dicho), but I guess using all the polysacchariferous slats (whatever those are) for art and having to find something else to eat works as well… // also like. Trolls already eat bugs. What's so weird about worms?? do they just eat them raw and that's the weird thing or

Wanshi:

-Looks like jadebloods are supposed to stay in the caverns… This probably stopped being a thing by Hivebent (see Kanaya). // Kanaya, besides her Protagonist Plot Armor, knew that her fate wasn't in a cloister- therefore why she never mentioned it (watsonian wise, doyle wise is because back then the Caverns likely didn't exist- though they probably did by the time we got to see the ancestors)

-Wanshi’s driving force in her route is wanting to know more, which points to either an understanding class (Mage or Seer) or being sorta close to the Light aspect, like Galekh. Sadly, our resident Mage of Doom, Sollux, isn’t precisely the mainest of characters… // classpect aside, she is terribly sheltered so she obviously wants to Know More... see the points below. The only change in her Troll Call bulletpoints was marking her as an extreme LARPer, while taking out “knows it. all of it”... depending on her route's specific canonicity, has she stumbled onto something she'd rather not have known?? as in, potentially traumatizing like her bad end?? because if she has then so help me she deserves the world

-Wanshi does have some more “traditionally” Doomy things in her reluctance to sneak out of the caverns because she doesn’t want to get in trouble, and also in both her routes (in her good one she misses out on Beastcon but gets a friend, and in her bad one�� oh boy.). But when Wanshi breaks rules, she breaks them- see her short end, and she also gets a little sassy with Lynera in her good end because she knows Lynera won’t rat her out.

-She’s probably the youngest in the caverns (or her part of them, at least), so she must be pretty lonely… except for someone strongly implied to be Lanque!! (we’ll probably see him in the very last friendsim, though for now it looks like he also was in the caverns all along…)

-Wanshi’s lived in the caverns her entire life, to the point that she hasn’t ever seen moonlight before… and then her bad route’s has her getting to see life and especially death on Alternia first hand. First the corpse before getting to the convention (she’s seen them before, but in jars and therefore kind of removed of the whole “this is a person who died” thing, likely), and then the bear rampage in the con itself… where she gets to see her (probably) first friend ever sacrifice themselves to save her, and a lot more gore and murder.

-Even her good route has her coming to terms with the fact that she could have died if she had gone to the con, though I think she only gets some healthy fear of what Alternia can do, as opposed to the trauma that must have been her bad end. Guess the Doombound really are the universe’s chosen sufferers after all…

-God I really hope we don’t get a repeat of her bad route in Hiveswap proper. She deserves a safe and happy childhood with friends in Earth C please.

-To end on a lighter note, we get to see a good bunch of the Friendsim team in the con! As well as some other interesting trolls (finally a seadweller, there are some who don’t have signs I think, etc) We also learn some new Troll Things: the troll name for cotton candy (frazzled saccharine fluff candy), the existence of cosplay (without murder) and coslay (with murder)…

-Also (added on 28-10 because i forgot orz): what’s with Vikare all of a sudden? Hope he’s doing okay… // he's as fine as can be with the spotlight pointed away from him.

[dawnknighted]

  @caimkairos asked :  !! from FAFNIR he WANTS TO KNOW HIS TREASURE'S OPINIONS ( send ‘!!’ and I’ll write a para description of your muse from mine’s perspective ) // selectively accepting .

it is strange to think that you once had a life without fafnir bringing chaos to it. he is such an unpredictable force of nature, surprising you every day with something else.

...if you think about it, you make for a strange pair. when you first met him, you knew that he was no tamed animal, back then you said you knew of no harm he had brought to others but that had been a lie. he had simply not yet killed someone from the village that asked you for help. he most likely however had killed humans before. but you give it no further thought as you enter the cave. by all means, your plan was dumb but you hoped that you interpret the tales right, that most likely calling friendship a treasure would amuse the great wise dragon enough to brush you off with laughter and to move somewhere else.

the great wise dragon however turned out to be an oversized scaled pup. and suddenly your life is filled with an overly energetic dragon. he swears up and down to the people of camelot that he isn’t one... while his tail wags. and his ears wiggle. everyone knows the truth but looks the other way for your sake. and for theirs probably too.

you find yourself more and more drawn to him. to the way his scales change colors with the light. to his stories - you realize he does have wisdom, it is just quite an unique form of it. you are drawn to the way he views the world. how he tries to cling to the strangest of things - music, moments... you. 

you aren’t sure what he sees in you but if your company makes him happy then you do not give it that much of a thought. you feel yourself grow fonder of the dragon. you know that he is, on a human level, not a good person. he tells you many times that he is an evil dragon.

...but you think that is fine. because in your eyes humans aren’t good beings. so maybe what they call evil is not all that bad. no, he is actually much purer than any person ( because humans cannot love the way fafnir does, with such honesty, with such enthusiasm ...truly the gods are cruel for creating someone that runs head first into loving things that he could not keep forever ).

you don’t know when fondness grew to be love, it is an organic change. from simply having fafnir sleep by your side because his treasure must be protected, to wrapping your arms around him, laughing when he turns red, especially when you kiss him... it’s just how things are now.

as you lay on the ground, bleeding out, your last thoughts are with him and you are crying because you know you have finally done what you set out to do so many years ago : you have killed the dragons. but you curse yourself, because love and death truly makes for the cruelest of swords to slay fafnir with.

[waltrp]

YOUR TALENT MAKES YOU WHO YOU ARE. YOU SHOULD BE PROUD OF IT

BIDDI BOPPI BOOP A SPECIAL MESSAGE ADMIN ZULEMA: this is truly the season of returning members and we’re thriving lads ! Jill, I am so happy to welcome you back to walt. your app for Tiffani was brilliant. you have so much passion and love for this character. I know she’s in good hands and that you’ll bring so much to her. I’m excited about what you’ll bring to the dash with this feisty pixie ! Please refer to THIS PAGE for your next tasks. We can’t wait to roleplay with you. Welcome to our Ohana xx.

It’s a pleasure to meet you…

Jill, 30, eastern, she/her :)

My favorite fruit is raspberries

I love swords

I know more than I ever wanted to about Shakespeare’s history plays

No triggers!

Are you positive you can be active?

Yes, I’d been planning a return to rp to give me something to do during my day job once I was done with this season’s rep shows… and then covid happened…

How did you stumble upon Walt?

Walt was the first post that came up when I typed “Disney rp” in the tumblr search so I took it as a sign

Did you read the rules?

Yup!

Are you sure?

rfp

Character you want?

Tiffani Belle

Please describe the character for us

Baseball caps and glitter. Those were the words to describe Tiffani Belle as she was growing up. Born to a well-off family, Tiffani was the only girl her age growing up in her neighborhood. The boys all gave her the nickname Tink, because she was the tiniest of their playdate crew. The tiny blonde swelled with pride, and quickly had every single one of them wrapped around her little finger. She could get down and dirty with the rest of them, but she knew that being a girl made her special. She spent her childhood days fixing her friends’ bicycles, collecting grass stains on her clothes, and convincing all the boys that because they were friends, she should be their first kiss. (Somewhere in her childhood bedroom, she still has the contract they drafted on that day in first grade when the boys lined up to peck their lips against Tiffani’s.)

Tiffani took to the role of leader quickly. It wasn’t necessarily a control thing, but Tiffani liked to be in charge, and she really liked for things to go her way. She was headstrong from childhood onward, more than willing to use her leadership skills and stubbornness to fight for what she believed in – whether that be later bedtimes with mom and dad, or returning tater tots to the elementary school lunch menu. They were a kid favorite, potatoes were good for you and ketchup was technically a vegetable, and they deserved to be eaten!

Getting to high school wasn’t much different for Tink. Now she was a little fish in a big pond, but being small had never held Tink back before. Tiffani made sure to make her name known early on in her high school year. As the weather was getting warmer, Tink stood on top of the cafeteria table, white tennis shoes squeaking against the plastic table top, mini skirt almost dangerously short from that angle, and demanded students be allowed to eat their lunches outside. They had gorgeous weather half the school year, it was their right to be able to enjoy the outdoors, and their medical need to soak up the Vitamin D. Administration caved, and Tink was class president for two years after that.

But the older she got, the lonelier Tink became at the top. The girls all wanted to be her, and the boys all wanted to date her. Well, the ones that mattered anyway. But as the years went by, the more Tink became a leader and the boss, and the less she had any actual friends.

Fairy wings and pixie dust. That was when everything started to change. Puberty for Tiffani had started on the early side. She took it in stride, loving to be first in everything. She was the first in her grade with boobs (small as they may have been at the time) and she flaunted her period to her classmates because they were still girls but now she was a woman. What Tink wasn’t prepared for was the pain that started in her shoulders one evening. She’d spent the day with some of the boys switching between doing pushups and sitting on top of them while they did pushups. Tink loved to show them up whenever she can, reminding them that just because she was small and a girl didn’t mean that she couldn’t do just as many reps as they could. So she’d thought nothing of the pain, writing it off as having pushed her body a bit too far that day. But the pain didn’t dissipate, and it was a few days later that she saw them: iridescent wings starting to poke from her shoulder blades. The oddities multiplied from there. Tink didn’t know anything about what was happening (she knew how to use the internet, she’d figure some things out), but she knew that she couldn’t tell anyone. Not if she was going to stay on top. So the top became even lonelier.

Meeting Pippin Pan changed everything. He transferred to her school, and Tink saw something in him. Saw that he was a leader and an adventurer like herself, and to top it off, Pippin wasn’t immediately intimidated by her. In fact, she was sure that he saw an equal in Tink just as she saw him as an equal to her. The two became attached at the hip, a couple of teenagers at the top, and Tiffani would do anything for Pippin. Anything. He was the first person she told about her abilities, and he was the first person Tiffani had any real romantic feelings for. He made her heart race, and she was ready to see what was on the opposite end of their friendship.

Turns out the only thing there was disappointment. When the Darlings came to town, Pippin became fascinated with them. So naturally Tink hated them. She hated Wendy, she hated Jane, she hated that Pippin wanted anything to do with them at all, and she hated that she still needed Pippin as her best friend and her right hand. She hated that she’d shared her secrets and her heart with him, and he dared to care about anyone other than her. Green had always been a good color for Tiffani, it really brought out her eyes, but jealousy consumed the girl and their relationship never truly recovered.

Soon after she met Hook, and Tink was no longer concerned with friendship or Pippin or being a leader. What had leadership gotten her? After all these years? No, true leadership would come later. Tiffani Belle would take the world by storm one day, but Hook new about revenge. Hook stirred a darkness within her, growing out of that jealousy, his silver tongue and clever words working their way into Tink’s heart and mind. He could help her get Pippin back, and everything would go back to normal. But the blonde might’ve been in too deep. She connected with Hook in a way she’d never connected with anyone before, told him all of her secrets, gave him all of herself; he listened, was a comforting presence, and give Tink the push she needed to make sure stupid Wendy Darling was out of the way and Pippin would be hers again.

But the prank went too far, the Darlings wound up in the hospital, and something about that night opened Tiffani’s eyes. She was alone again, but that old spark – the one that was there before boys and feelings became involved – was ignited once more. Of course, everything had changed. She could never go back to the girl she was, not if she stayed. She told her parents everything, her entire side of the story, and even she couldn’t bring herself to argue when the decided to ship her off to Walt.

Second character choice

n/a (but I may also have plans for Honey Lemon and the return of one Rita Holden)

It’s time to see that sample para.

cw: pixie dust related flying/broken bones accident

Perfect. Everything was perfect. And then those stupid Darling children came along and ruined it.

What did Wendy Darling have that Tiffani didn’t? Tink had power, popularity, imperfection. Tink had magic: she could fly, she could shrink, her pixie dust could make Pippin fly too. But perfect little birdy Wendy Darling came along and none of that mattered anymore. She didn’t matter anymore.

Well fuck them. Tink had found a new companion and new friendship in James Hook. With him she didn’t need to be a leader anymore. She could follow and learn and love him instead. Not real love, of course. Real love was bullshit that got her nothing and nowhere. When she was eventually back on top again, with the Darlings out of the way, love would be an emotion she would let nowhere near her tiny body. The wasn’t room anymore for love. Just like there wasn’t room for the Darlings.

It had been Hook’s idea, but Tiffani had latched on to his scheme, and now the time had come. He’d been able to get close to the Darlings in a way that Tink had been loath to do. She admired him for that, for his ability to hide that side of him in order to move forward with revenge. I would be harmless enough, just a simple scare to put the darling Wendy bird in her place. She wasn’t god’s gift to mankind, yet somehow she’d made Pippin think she was.

Digging through her closet, Tinkerbell pulled out the bit of pixie dust she’d been saving. She’d only ever used this on two other people before: Pippin and then Hook; but now she’d secretly use it on the Darlings, too.

She met up with Hook on the edge of town. The Darlings would be meeting him soon, then Tink would take care of the magic, and he would take care of the rest. Before she shrunk to fairy size, Hook’s hands pulled the tiny blonde in to him for a kiss, rough and raw and fiery and full of passion, striking the heat in Tink’s body that rose every time he did that. Who needed love and romance when there were people like hook who were so sexy and free of attachment?

Hidden from view, when the Darlings arrived and Hook started sewing his side of the plan, Tiffani silently sprinkled her pixie dust on their shoulders.

—What? —No—Hook wasn’t supposed to tell them how it worked. They were supposed to be shocked when they suddenly found themselves flying. A shock that would turn their lives around the way Tink’s wings had turned around hers.

Rage flared in Tink’s tiny fairy body, and she flittered toward Hook at a moment when the Darlings had turned away, but he flicked her away with a wave of his hand, and Tiffani darted to the ground as she tried to regain control of her wings. Too late she did, and she skid along the ground, crossing her arms in anger and disbelief. But she couldn’t revel in those feelings for too long, because then Hook was leading them away, and Tiffani would be damned if she let herself get left behind, now that Hook had screwed everything up. He was just like Pippin, dumping her for Wendy, and using her magic to garner Wendy’s praises.

She doesn’t like to think too often about the in between; about the events that lead to what happened next. But suddenly the Darlings were flying. Except they weren’t flying, they were falling. Falling from too many stories high. That wasn’t right, Tink’s pixie dust was fail proof. Perhaps it had worn off? She may have hated Wendy Darling, but she wasn’t in the murder business. Another sprinkling would do the trick. Reaching into her pocket, Tiffani withdrew her bag of pixie dust.

Pixie dust that wasn’t pixie dust.

Too late she realized that Hook had switched the bag, pulled her in for a kiss, wrapped his arms around her waist, and replaced her precious pixie dust (which was very much a part of her) with something else. And she could only stare in horror as the first bone cracked.

Anything else, love?

~

Yup!

[untravld-blog]

Hey guys!! I can’t believe I would hit this number so quickly!! I’m honestly just surprised that people would want to follow— but thank you so much for joining me && Somni on this blog!! I know the past few weeks have been slow && I want to fix it. I’m hoping that this milestone will help kick me back into gear!!

I wasn’t sure how long Somni would last tbh?? because when I took him off my multi && onto a separate blog, I felt as if he’d last a week at most, I had a small fear no one would want to interact with him, or that it may have been a mistake to put him separately. You guys quickly changed my mind, when so many people seemed interested in his personality && past. So many people have gotten involved with this blog && I’m so grateful to have such an engaging community!!

 I literally wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for all the kind people

I’ve enjoyed all the small interactions I’ve done with a munch of my mutuals!! I wanna do a Bias list, but I JUST did an answer a week ago w/ all the people I’d put on the bias list tbh?? I’ll tag a few people I feel deserve more of my love as they have been with me since the beginning on this blog— it hasn’t been too long since this blog was made but, it feels like we’ve been friends for ages.

@naktsvilks: The best person I could have ever met && on day one of Somnis creation, King came up to me, asked for my discord && since then we’ve been screaming at each other daily?? King is such a great person, he’s helped me feel better during rough moments, or just to talk tbh?? && I absolutely love what we created for Somni && Nocte tbh?? I wasn’t expecting soft boi time for Somni, so when this all happened I was very surprised && excited— it was nice to see my muse some form of TLC??? But yeah. King is an amazing person, whos just always there for me && cares for everyone!! I’m glad we met :>

@spiritedoperetta: When we first talked, we made yelp reviews about cave traps && I think that was a good basis to begin our friendship. I love what we’ve come up with, with Grey && Somni, two grumpy old dudes who will cause trouble— just cause they believe its a fair thing to do for the amount of trouble in their own lives. You are an amazing person Cal, I really hope you know it, && I support your two precious babies to the ends of the earth!!

@thcnderslam: I’m excited for our PMD stuff tbh?? we’ve talked a little, but you’re an amazing person with great ideas. I love how well our muses click in terms of their past && how they want to move forward. The idea of travelling together to grow && learn what their purpose is, it’s going to be fun— Libre is such a cutie as well, I love her. Somni would honestly die for her?? I look forward to all the stuff we do in the future!!

@unmaskedchimera: Thanks for starting that ask plot in my inbox, it was honestly the best thing ever && I love what we’ve planned out for the outcome of what the responses would be like. I absolutely love RU, i’m birb biased so he holds a special place in my heart tbh?? I can’t wait for further interactions, I see Somni && him being close through interactions, especially the one we have going on right now!!

@gamenu: Mei Mei, you’re a sweet person && I’m glad to have met you. Much like King, you && him have been at my side whenever you can be && I appreciate it. Thank you so much for being such a kind person, Approaching me when I was feeling down, && just letting me know that i’m loved. It’s fun to talk with you, because we have opinions that we can both agree upon && we have real discussions. I’m sorry I haven’t been on top of our IC interaction, but I look forward to Somni learning more about Nicole && warming up to her.

I wanna let everyone know, that I love you all equally && if I could write stuff about everyone, I would in a heartbeat. But the post is getting too long dfgkljfkgj If you want me to say something positive about you, please send me an ask && I’ll happily write a para about how much I love you.

Thank you guys again for all the great support, friendships, && interactions. Without them, I wouldn’t be saying all this now.

I LOVE YOU ALL

[crimsonrevolt]

Congratulations Stacey you’ve been accepted to Crimson Revolt as Walden Macnair!

↳ please refer to our character checklist

Your application immediately drew us into everything that set Walden apart from so many of the Death Eaters we already have, Stacey, and you managed to personify the chilling nature of Walden’s personality to such detail that it was haunting to see. I love all the thought you put into your application and how thoroughly you thought about his background and what might have influenced his decisions. Having him be an executioner is perfect! We’re really excited to see what you do with him! *your faceclaim change to Charlie Weber has been accepted!

application beneath the cut

Trigger Warning: Personality Disorder mentioned / explored in headcanons. Blood / Murder mentioned very briefly in para and questionnaire, but neither are explicitly described.

OUT OF CHARACTER:

INTRODUCTION Hello! My name is Stacey (her/she). I’m 18 years old and in the Eastern Time Zone.

ACTIVITY Generally about 6 or 7. I know expected activity levels are higher/stricter for those with more than one character and think that meeting the activity requirements shouldn’t be a problem.

TRIGGERS *removed for privacy

HOW DID YOU FIND US? I play Gilderoy for those who don’t know, but I think initially I found Crimson Revolt through a post from the promo blog while searching the tags.

WHAT HARRY POTTER CHARACTER DO YOU IDENTIFY WITH MOST? Keeping with the generic response, I have to say Hermione Granger because of her determination and loyalty. She was the “geek / goody-two shoes” of the Golden Trio ( always following the rules, encouraging Harry and Ron to study, etc. ) which is definitely how I feel around any of my friends. From playing a key role in defeating Voldemort to becoming Minister of Magic, I think her character is overall extremely empowering.

ANYTHING ELSE?

IN CHARACTER:

DESIRED CHARACTER Walden Silas Macnair.

Walden: “Mighty” or “Strong fighter”

Silas: “Man of the woods”

Macnair: “Son of the heir”

FACE CLAIM If the Admin Team is feeling it, I’d prefer to use Charlie Weber instead of Jake Gyllenhaal.

REASON FOR CHOSEN CHARACTER For a few months now I’ve been really interested in picking up another muse, but wanted to make sure I had the time to really give them the attention that a new character needs. I was always fascinated with Walden though, especially because I’ve explored him a couple times before in one on one roleplays.

He’s someone who was raised in what I imagined to be a very formal household where absolute perfection was expected of the children, meaning strict manners even with their friends and families. Where the Macnair household may have differed from most other Pureblood families is that when they weren’t entertaining guests or attending prestigious events, the children were expected to be outside getting dirty, causing trouble for Muggles, fighting each other - Samael and Aline Macnair believed that promoting activities like these was the best way to help transform their boys into steadfast men. As a result, the woods will always feel more like home to Walden than any mansion.

Young Walden was a submissive boy easily pushed around by others, however, which angered his father to no end. In an attempt to toughen his youngest son, Samael Macnair resorted to punishments that bordered abuse and included forcing Walden to accompany him on creature executions. The killings became an art to the boy, who began studying magical creatures years before he attended Hogwarts because he enjoyed thinking of new, more satisfying ways that they could be killed. When the Dark Lord began to rise, Walden didn’t need his father’s encouragement to offer his services to the cause.

From the age of twenty to twenty-three, Walden was married to a respectable woman named Emily. After her death, he became absolutely consumed with his work at the Ministry and for the Dark Lord. As he didn’t wish to marry again and had failed to produce an heir, he began to view his work and role in the rising war as his legacy and something that is simply expected of him to fulfill.

As an Executioner, Walden didn’t need to be guilty of anything to spark the stories that he was a sadistic, sick man. The rise of the Dark Lord and unexpected death of his wife only heightened these rumors, none of which he chose to confirm nor deny. He doesn’t care about being remembered for years to come in a positive or negative light, but is simply doing what he feels is his duty as a Pureblood.

PREFERRED SHIPS // CHARACTER SEXUALITY // GENDER & PRONOUNS Walden (he/him) is heterosexual. Considering the stigma surrounding homosexuality during this time period, I don’t see the idea of being with males in any romantic or sexual way as being something he would be comfortable considering or even thinking about. He’s drawn to women with wicked tendencies and an appetite for inflicting anguish, typically those allied with Death Eaters due to his strong dedication to the cause. He’s attracted to beauty and is prone to obsession, often going out of his way to observe the women who spark his interest. He would rather spend his time stalking than talking, but derives pleasure from introducing altruistic women to a darker side of humanity and themselves.

CREATE ONE (OR MORE!) OF THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR CHARACTER:

HEADCANONS

Family: Ruled by a meek mother and detached father, affection was as rare as birthday presents in the Macnair household. From a young age, Walden appeared to have inherited more from his mother than his father, as even in a crowd he basked in his wallflower nature as though he were alone. As a result, his father was stricter with his youngest son than he was with his oldest. On more than one occasion, William would say that he had sacrificed himself to save his brother from a punishment from their father, but Walden liked to think that /he/ had been the one to sacrifice his brother.

Marriage: Similar to his brother before him, Walden’s marriage was arranged by his sixteenth birthday. He was married when he was twenty to a woman who he quickly decided wasn’t the worst choice for a wife. Emily was perhaps the closest he ever came to loving someone before her gruesome death three years later. Official reports declare it the result of an unfortunate run in with an unidentified beast, but the only witness to the accident - Walden - still refuses to speak of it twelve years later.

Employment: Walden succeeded his father as Executioner. When he was only six years old, his father brought him to witness his first execution, which sparked a lust for blood that neither parent expected from their youngest, more reserved son. As he failed to marry and produce an heir as his elder brother did, being the Executioner became a way for Walden to retain the approval and respect of his parents and Pureblood society, hence why he takes it so seriously.

Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder: Consumed by details and rules, Walden would rather avoid a task altogether than be forced to complete it imperfectly. His inability to bend his morals causes an erratic temper that, in his mind, would justify violence committed against even an ally if their words or actions inadvertently sparked suspicion. He has a tendency to obsess over his work both as an Executioner and Death Eater, placing a higher importance on such responsibilities than on personal relationships.

Random: Walden learned about poetry from the songs and chants his father used to sing during his executions. As violence was promoted more than literacy in the family, he used to secretly buy or steal Shakespeare books and hide them under his bed to indulge in at night.

Being sorted into Ravenclaw rather than Slytherin was a large disappointment for himself and his family, but not one that anyone dwelled on. “It is what it is,” His father had written to him the next day, and that was that.

As he grew older, Walden gradually began to isolate himself. He still identifies with Pureblood ideals, but has failed to maintain close friendships with those who may have helped advance his place in society or the Dark Lord’s ranks.

PLAYLIST

| Have Mercy - This Old Ark | They kept me in the dark, shouting “One day young boy you’ll be a man and you’ll be guiding this old ark” | Mumford & Sons - The Cave | It’s empty in the valley of your heart | Hippie Sabotage - Devil Eyes | You’ve got the devil in your eyes, you went and took me by surprise | The Shins - Caring is Creepy | It’s a luscious mix of words and tricks that let us bet when you know we should fold | Marina and the Diamonds - Savages | Are you killing for yourself or killing for your savior? | Until the Ribbon Breaks - One Way Or Another | One way or another, I’m gonna find ya’ | The Bright Brothers - Blood on my Name | When the fires have surrounded you with the Hounds of Hell comin’ after you I’ve got blood, I’ve got blood on my name |

AESTHETIC

https://i.imgur.com/buwGmqd.png

IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE: ♔ If you were able to invent one spell, potion, or charm, what would it do, what would you use it for or how would you use it? Feel free to name it:

Walden’s inner Ravenclaw relished at the question, as inventing something was a fantasy he often entertained himself with as a child. Many years had passed since the nights he spent making lists of potential spells and potions, however, and he could remember only one. “A potion that could make someone invisible for a while would be useful. It could be called ‘Indespectus’.”

♔ You have to venture deep into the Forbidden Forest one night. Pick one other character and one object (muggle or magical), besides your wand, that you’d want with you:

Hogwart’s Forbidden Forest was a scene Walden knew well from his years at the school and the few times that work had sent him back. The word “forbidden” was far too intense for what hid in the shadows of the trees. “I would bring my axe. I haven’t missed a target with it yet,” He answered. Sometimes, he felt he knew the striking tool better than he knew his wand, despite the fact that the latter was meant to be catered to his character. “We work best alone, though. Other people tend to get in the way of getting a job done properly. Sometimes it feels like the axe has a mind of its own, if that’s any consolation.”

♔ What kinds of decisions are the most difficult for you to make?

His first thought was spontaneous decisions, yet the more he considered it the more he realized that most things he did were either upon instinct or pure routine. “I don’t fancy hypothetical questions,” Walden decided. “They’re pointless, really. It’s like… Playing a game and making up the rules as you go, then you never know when it ends. That’s how people get their heads stuck in the clouds.”

♔ What is one thing you would never want said about you?

There was much hearsay already about Walden that floated around, albeit he had never paid much mind to any of it. As far as he was concerned, those who didn’t work gossiped and the cycle was one that was as unstoppable as the cycle of life. “I work hard,” He stated. “I wouldn’t want anyone to say otherwise.”  

WRITING SAMPLE:

“That’s enough, Macnair! You’re just being bloody cruel to the thing now,” Dalton laughed. The sound that came from Walden resembled both a grunt and a dry laugh. He swung his axe down heavily again in an attempt to join the multiple slashes into one large cut. “Besides, it’s almost three. Didn’t you say you had somewhere to be?” With one more swing at the dead creature, Walden stepped back to marvel at his masterpiece. Dalton stepped forward to discard the body and he watched intently like an artist that is willing to sell his work only if he can see for himself that it will be displayed properly. His axe in one hand, dripping with thick blood over his shoulder, he started back down the hilltop on which the execution had been executed, the sacrifice had been made. The scene replayed in his mind and he sang to himself - “I’ve reached a place where the willow don’t bend…” When he returned some time later to his secluded residence, just large and new enough to display a stark difference to the wilderness around it, the house was cold and dark and lifeless - just as Walden liked it. In the depths of his personal library, ( an extra bedroom that had been converted to such ), and by the light of thin curtains, he watched the blood dry and settle into the cracks of his palms before scrubbing his hands of a job well done. It was a quarter before three when he decided upon a suit to wear and five minutes before the exact hour when he arrived at the funeral. Immune to the tears and sniffles around him, Walden stood so quietly by his mother’s side that she didn’t know when he had arrived, but in all fairness she likely didn’t know when or how she had gotten there either. She wouldn’t question it, though. Alina Macnair never questioned the way things were. Samael Macnair had inadvertently taught his children many lessons that as adults, impacted them greatly. For example, the songs he sang on the way back from an execution taught a young Walden what a poem was and set the boy on a path of fascination for the art of word that his father swore was to blame for his sorting into Ravenclaw rather than Slytherin, like his older brother. It was the fact that he forced his subdued son to accompany him to his assignments that set Walden on a greater, more dangerous path, however. He adopted an obsession for every part of the process of death that dominated every other hobby of interest. Samael taught his boys that Macnairs took life - they did not mourn it. As Walden met William’s eyes over his mother, they shared a brief moment in which the brothers appeared to silently agree that though six feet under, it was still best not to disobey their father. A familiar sensation in his left forearm broke the gaze. The man’s brother followed him so quietly that Walden didn’t know he had left the burial until he called out to him. “It isn’t over yet, Walden. Where are you going?” He heaved a silent sigh before facing William. He wanted to tell him to stop trying to grow a beard because he looked too much like their father and someone might get confused, he might get confused and - "I know, Will. I have to go to work,” Walden stated blankly. “It’s an emergency.” “Our father’s death is an emergency.” The reply had the potential for some bite and some anger, but it was too soft for either. “This is a real emergency,” He countered coldly. It wasn’t that he was glad his father was dead, but Death was one debt that everyone had to pay eventually. Life went on. He wondered when his elder brother had forgotten that, or if he had never properly learned it in the first place.

Two pairs of the same eyes faced off in the graveyard, a safe albeit still uncomfortable distance from the funeral of the man whose color they had inherited. To Walden’s surprise, William dropped his eyes first and displayed an expression his brother had never witnessed before. His voice nearly croaked when he asked -

“He’s dead. Didn’t you ever love him?”

“No,” Walden answered, quickly and disgustedly as if he were a child being accused of having feelings for a girl for the first time. “Of course not. I was his son - I obeyed him and I was loyal to him, but I didn’t love him. You shouldn’t have either. People don’t live forever.” Then, Walden turned his back on his family, those both alive and dead, to heed the call of the Dark Lord. As he left, he whistled to himself -

“There’s not much more to be said, it’s the top of the end -”

When he returned some time later to his secluded residence, just large and new enough to display a stark difference to the wilderness around it, the house was cold and dark and lifeless - just as Walden liked it.

He ate and showered and crawled into his empty bed, chanting to himself until he couldn’t keep his eyelids open any longer -

“I am going, I am going, I am gone -”

[ber-bonfamille-lyons]

RP Questionnaire

in which lauryl rambles about all things rp (tw for incomplete sentences, odd punctuation, etc.)

Name: Lauryl Characters: leave me alone (ber, kiara, hades, mel, chester, milla, milo, nala, kiki, prince, pongo/paul, anita) Pick a thread from the past six months that you’re proud of and talk about why.

The Journey of Kiki Takayama: I loved this thread because it highlighted my bby Kiki! I’m really proud of Kiki’s character and her journey, both literal in this case and in the development~ way. I’ve been really poking at Kiki’s self-esteem issues, her pervasive depression, and I think this thread really brings a lot of those threads, and other threads, together. Like, the fact she brings Howl back to her by singing and dancing with the earworm she’d made for Patty (this sentence is nonsense to anyone who doesn’t know what I’m talking about). Like, that felt so natural to me-- that I could use her friendship with Patty, her earworwm thread with Hiro, and her history with Howl dancin’ to karaoke, to produce what I thought was this really silly-yet-serious-and-kinda-beautiful moment. To me, it was just very dynamic, and I’m proud.

Chester’s arc: I’m also really proud that I finally got to PULL THIS OFF AFTER SO LONG. I loved the pace of it overall, and Chloe really provided a lot of emotional depth by bringing Mitte along. Even though these two are ridiculous and full of hijinks, that question “What do these two mean to each other?” still followed them from para to para. And Mitte’s loyalty to Chester (or to chaos) has really solidified this strange friendship and helped launch the second part of this plot. Thus, this arc ran the gamut: light and ridiculous, serious and dark, tragic and comic.

Identify a challenge you’ve faced in this rp. Reflect on why this is a challenge for you. Are there any strategies you can develop to overcome this challenge?

Taking on too much hahahha: this is definitely my biggest challenge and even extends to the outside writing that I do. I’m an Idea Man. I’m a conceptual, out of the box, daydreamer-of-an-rper, who develops everything like, very top down, very chronic-plot-heavy, very BIG STAKES!! So usually every character has a Big Arc and I get really excited about these very big plots-- annnnnd then i have 13 very big plots and no way to balance them all along with all the plots i want to get involved in with the REST of the rp that kinda fall into my lap and i’m like omfg ahhhhhh.

What happens naturally is I prioritize characters over others. Ber, Hades, and Mel are my big kahunas who i do the most with. Chester’s gotten his time in the sunshine finally, god bless, and to a good extent, Kiki too. And Rajah got a lot of good stuff. But there are some babies that I haven’t done a lot of those Big things for. Milo for example lawd, MILO. I finally have this mummy plot but i’ve been trying to do more cave/merlin stuff for over a year now. I also wanna do so much MORE with Prince and with Nala and Paul, but they always get pushed to the side. Even the characters that I do more with get pushed to the side-- hi Hades !!

So how do I fix this? I mean, I can really prioritize, I can create schedules and hard deadlines that map out my plots for myself and keep me on track….buuuut if we’re honest rp is a collaborative hobby and hard deadlines are often soft, malleable deadlines.

I can also just, not plan as much and focus on more acute plots. Or: not have as many characters.

Gasp.

I know, someone needed to say it though. Also I could be a total hypocrite on this point because as we speak I have little plot seedlings growing jungles in my head. But something’s got to give. And so this is not a very clear answer but I think it’s sort of a combination of me being serious with my deadlines (or at least structure out plots the way we are doing on this questionnaire) instead of keeping all those Big big big plots in my head. I can also do less threads. The other part? Finishing off character’s arcs and letting them go, my darlings, so I can free up a lil more space for others. I did that with Rajah recently because I’d accomplished the biggest goals I had for him and soon I’ll be letting go of Chester and Milla too for the same reasons-- I’m closing up their stories. Course, I’ll probably pick up NEW characters like the hypocrite I am, but the point is: it’s good to know when to let your babies go, and I want to be the first person to encourage people to see their characters through to whatever end there is. 

Pick one of your characters and talk about their growth (we recommend choosing an older character, but it’s up to you! ) What about their story has surprised you? What are you proud of? How have they changed from their original inception to now?

Milla: When I first got Milla, I wanted a capital-v Villain and I wanted to use her for plot purposes mostly. I was fine with just being a tool in other people’s plots in other words, and I didn’t expect Milla to go anywhere. But Milla has surprised me, and it’s all due to the people who have drawn out new sides of Milla that I only suspected lay dormant. I love that I have both my daughters and an Ella (and gosh, I love that Bee was up for having Ella have this contentious relationship with Milla that was out of the house but still very much a “trap” of sorts, just a more modern day trap, ala money). I love her deliciously evil relationship with Taka.  I love that she’s gotten to be a lawyer for Gaston and other villains. I love that she’s become this dominatrix character with Flynn.  She’s still very set in her ways now, but finding how she became set in those ways through these interactions is some of the most interesting, different RPing I get to do. I love that how she twists her definition of mother on its head, I love that she is honestly so weary and lonely, I love that she has accepted a lot of that if only because of her age. I’m really proud of the depth I’ve achieved with her, so much so that I can write a terrible post and fully sympathize with her anyway. In fact...part of me honestly roots for her, and I think that’s how you should wanna feel for your villains, even if, at the end of the day, you know they must be thwarted.

Pick another character and talk a little about where you WANT them to go. What are your plans for them for the rest of the year?

The Great Prince: Eeeee, my son. The Prince has always been a very distinctive voice for me and a much different story than many of my characters. Like Milla, he’s older, and in some ways a lot of his development is in backstory, which involves a fair amount of “uncovering” as I write. But unlike Milla, I fully intend Great Prince to grow and he’s doing so already. He’s blurring the lines between the forest and the town and sort of fully embracing the liminal aspects of his being. Like, yes, he’ll never really be a normal human, but he is still human; and yes, he might not be a true animal of the forest, but it’s still his home, and he wants to share it with people in a way he’s never really gotten to do.

I’m looking forward to forging stronger relationships with those he has already formed bonds with: Soleil, Bambi, Ella, etc. I would love to get more fairy relationships for him actually because I haven’t done a lot with that though I imagine Prince was raised by the fairies a lot more than he was his Father Prince, so I’d love to explore that dynamic. Send me ur fairies!!

I’m also looking forward to trying to do more forest plotty stuff. Maybe I can do this with Bambi if Bambi ends up embracing his powers more but I could also do this with FAIRIES if I do make more fairy friends!!

I also really want the Prince to start wrestling more concretely with the toxic rules he was raised under. I want him to realize he can change tradition, that the rules he hates don’t have to be the rules. As his relationships develop with key characters, I think the Prince will come in conflict with those rules (or I hope so) rather naturally.

AND finally, wow so long, I see the Prince mourning and letting go of Willow, finally. His memories of her have been the only really good ones in his life, so as he gets more good memories and makes relationships, he’ll be able to put Willow to rest for himself. Maaaaaaaybe, just maybe, he miiiight even let himself fall in love again (and that will help him wrestle with those toxic rules I was just talking about :D) 

IF YOU DID THE LAST QUESTIONNAIRE: Alright, now pick an item from the Wishlist you completed in January that you’ve started to pursue. How far are you from completing this goal? Talk about the steps you took to make it happen.

Well, I made Chester’s entire arc happen! And it’s still kinda happening. It took a LOT of organizing on my part, and I sort of followed the same format as the mock plot included in this questionnaire. I plotted out paras and made sure I knew what partners I had to contact to help me. The London plot was all Mitte/Chloe, so that was very straightforward, though I should note I had to do a lot of one-shot writing because important events took place with just Chester.

Also moving forward, organizing the demon haunting threads has been a real fun challenge, because it’s such a weird animal. I’m lucky to have such enthusiastic partners who are willing to try this strange format with me, so shoutout to Sam who was instrumental in that, and to J and Pet for playing along. Also just Pet and MK in general for doing chatzies with me and staying patient. AND one last shoutout to Marina for freezing Anita’s heart! It’s been really refreshing for me to RP her and I love what it did for the plot overall.  IF YOU DID THE LAST QUESTIONNAIRE: Pick another item on your wishlist that hasn’t happened yet. We’re gonna do a MOCK-PLOT!!!

Great Prince + Forest stuff! Like I mentioned, I’d love to get a sideplot going with some of the forest natives sooo I’m literally pulling this outta my ass, check it:

Great Prince introduces Bambi to the Stone Trolls, during which the Stone Trolls complain about the Gummis

Therefore

Great Prince visits Gummis with Clarion for negotiations

But

Negotiations break down and the Stone Trolls kidnap someone (Soleil, Ella, Bambi) for ransom

Therefore

The Prince asks Goliath for help on a rescue mission.

This is the most hilarious plot if only bc the gummis are a thing that exist.

Finally: write a NEW wish list for the upcoming half of the year. It’s fine if you use a lot from your previous wish list if you still haven’t completed them and you still want to!

By character:

Mel: 

Explore momma mel-- this will sorta be through threads as I weave this event into Mel’s life. I also think this applies to getting an apprentice-ish figure for Mel which is kinda happening as she “mentors” some young Magicks (Celia, Jim, Ly).

Acknowledge her feelings for Howl and deal with that shit: dark squad is always Really High Magic, so I’d love to take ‘em down with a good ol confession scene or something idk. Or maybe Mel cries to someone else bc she has feelings for someone who can’t love her or idk maybe she goes on a rampage I dunno.

Ber: 

More music reviews. This was from my old list AND I’ve been doing more, so I just want to kinda continue on doing these and up my number mhm.

Produce someone’s music. I rly want Ber to get a partnership with someone sooo!! I’ll be on the look out.

Kiara: 

Date! I actually am here for this idea of Kiara dating Callie and maybe Alice too. Is Callie ok with that?? Idk we’ll see.

Figure out her passion for healthcare and women stuff!!! I think Kiara might end up like a nurse or a social worker related to like women’s healthcare so I dunno I’d like to somehow explore more of those threads, maybe make her do some sort of afterschool program. She’s still finding herself so!! It’s an important year for her coming up.

Hades: 

Uh. Use his fire lmao but rly this is an important goal and lowkey cant say anything more spoilers

Chester: spoilers

Milla: spoilers

Milo: 

Still want him to start looking OUT of Pride U and start thinking about what he really wants for his future.

Buuuut while he’s in Pride U, student stuff! Teacher apprentice?? Tutor?? Idk hit me up

Merlin Objects. Get dat seal in the cave yo

TALK ABOUT ISSUES WITH JANE

Nala: 

Still want Nala to have a one night stand/go on dates c’mon ppl I don’t get to explore romantic Nala a lot.

More female friends 

Kiki: 

Find Jiji, perform ceremony

Discover true nature of her powers, which will lead to ONE OF TWO SCENARIOS:

Embraces her powers

Decides to stop being a witch and go to university instead.

Would still like her to go on a date ok

Anita: 

Explore what a canon dearcliffe looks like????? I don’t know if this will actually happen like when all this shit calms down and Anita is unfrozen maybe Roger will be like bitch bye idk. But it would be interesting to see Anita finally embrace her real feelings and realize that she can be considerate but still assertive, and then get to see how the relationship actually operates after so. much. build-up.

Also I meeeaaaan she’s also been woken up for how BI she is, that’d be interesting to do more with. Especially if it was in the context of a budding relationship with Roger (tbd on that lol)

Would still like to do more art paras (looking at anna and annette for potential help with this-- maybe a louita (friendly) reunion would be nice too

Great Prince:

More forest plot stuff. I have some random ideas floating in my head and so i’d love to introduce the stone trolls i keep mentioning and have great prince share his forest home with ppl (like bambi and ella). Obviously some of this will happen as prince ‘trains’ bambi in his magic. Or I hope so.

Honestly…. Maybe...have him...do stuff...with..pride..u? He really loved being a professor and I could see him get more involved with the magizoology department! Maybe as a guest lecturer at times or he could lead groups of students? IDK we both just loved prof henthorn sooo bring! it! back!

Paul:

Make Paul go on dates. This is leftover from my old one but part of his journey~ involves putting himself back out there. It’s important for Paul to realize he’s not trapped or that being a dad isnt the end of his love life and he can’t really do that with Perdita (sorry Perdy).

Continue fixing his relationship with Perdy. That being said and counterintuitive perhaps to the last point, Paul does care about Perdy and wants to be good friends with her. I’d love some more co-parenting stuff when Perdy gets more comfortable with the babies because I am intrigued by that dynamic since they won’t be dating rn. At least i dont think they will.

UNIVERSITY i have a plan for this i gotta make it happen lol i suck

[cvptaingiordano]

FOLLOW FOREVER SPECIAL BIRTHDAY EDITION.

(  nothing special about it but i’m fabulous so !!  )

BEGINNINGS.

Hello folks !! Y e s y’all may be thinking that this is random as fuck - –––––– and trust me it is - and y’all may be wondering why the hell I am even making a follow forever right now ?? Like... there’s no reason to, right ?? L I E S. There’s a very few simple explanation for this. one being that i’m almost at 250 ( w o w w t f ?? where the fuck did y’all come from ?? ). another one being that today the shrek obsessed chick running this blog just turned 17 !!  && she felt the need to show a few very important people on here how much they’re loved and appreciated !! so much shit has happened the few weeks where i’ve honestly felt that i’d lose my mind at some point and tbh y’all managed to keep me sane even if it seems as if i’m a little bit mad at times (   which trust me i need to go and get that checked lmao  ) - for reals ya girl needs to thank a few special peeps for everything. so let’s go !!   FOR ANYONE LOOKING FOR BLOGS TO FOLLOW I MADE SURE TO ATTACH ALL THEIR URL’S BELLOW. I ENCOURAGE YOU GUYS TO CHECK THESE GEMS OUT. I TRULY MEAN IT. THIS IS THE TOP OF THE TOP ON HERE. THE T O P OF THE T O P. FOLLOW THESE PEOPLE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, FOLLOW THEM. to the peeps prepare your anus for compliments and actual feels spread across big ass paragraphs. for y’all.                                             *wishes a great birthday to self*

before anything imma just say that i only listed down the people that honestly make me feel blessed. no particular order and i just let myself get carried away down here. judge me all you guys want. p.s. i will be on discord all day and i would love to have some company here ey. (  social life be nonexistent today  ) don’t know what i’d do without the four of you.

LITTLE OGRE. ( NAEVA )

@omenwept | wrathwept | tragedywept | miserybled | agonykissed | ( y e s me putting your url’s is my way of basically shouting at the world for them to follow your ass bc you deserve so much more recognition i ain’t even kidding. )   where do i begin omfg ?? i remember back when you followed me legit smashing that follow back button real quick after checking out rosalie. tbfh i’m not sure how you came across this trashy ass blog but nonetheless i am g l a d that you did. i do really mean it lmao, i am sO G L A D. - if it weren’t for that i doubt we would’ve ever bumped upon each other (  on here n shit   - –––––   legit thankful for being able to have such a gem around on here ya don’t even know   ) our threads are honestly killing me ?? and while i know that i’m slow a f usually i’m glad you haven’t told me to fuck off yet (  legit tho c;  ) the ooc banter is great and so is us plotting even if it may take us a bit to actually get into it. our discord calls a r e lit as fuck - even if most of it is based on a shrek - memes and you legit getting triggered by how d u m b i actually am. surprised that you didn’t get annoyed yet lmao - –––– but ey c;                                 I     A M    T R A S H   H O N E S T L Y basically i’m so glad that you joined again and that you decided to give the until dawn verse *cough* shrek cult *cough* a try.  you’re characters are truly one of a kind and as much as i’m slowly getting into pandora hearts (  actually obsessed with the manga already and i’m not even kidding - might even be extra and go out to buy the second band today even if i already found a site to watch it on c;  ) and may not really understand everything y e t it’s obvious how much effort and love you put into those gems. basically i admire it like a lot. - ––––––– this butt does appreciate you - like a l o t  - and basically i’m vv glad to have such nice banter whenever we talk lmao, whether it’s on calls, on chat or simple plotting honestly c: could be more though *wink* ;) *wink*   GOTTA CHILL. i’m just trash honestly, not sure what to say since i keep on repeating myself probs. but yeah. (  and well i’m trash for everything basically like don’t even make me list it now  ) SUMMARY LMAO. ya already know you can count on me for anything ey and you also know that imma be there no matter what and that i’m just trash for the banter and for the writing and for your charas and for shrek and for #triggered L O R E N A   S T O P.  okay lmao seriously tell me to fuck off already gotta chill this is turning into the bible (  let’s call it the naeva worshippers club  ) i shall still be waiting for the day that you might get into league of legends - still sad you didn’t like it :c i shall cry out of happiness IF THAT EVER HAPPENS LMAO. thanks for everything friend !! LOTS OF LOVE.  p.s enjoy the sims c; THANKS FOR EVERYTHING.  ( look how fancy i am. formatting n shit )

SWAMP DADDY. (  ALEX  )

@chaoticagony D A D D Y Y Y  YAYSYYDSVUFYGFUSJO FUCK ME UP I MEAN IT FUCK ME UP. who would’ve thought that the until dawn verse would’ve brought to creatures like us together. i mean… one of a kind no ?? a shrek obsessed chick and some perfect gem who’s just too precious - what a paIR. the fact that this verse gave us the opportunity jump into each other’s boring ass day’s like it did is something that i’m extremely thankful for. (  and i ain’t even kidding  ) where shall i start ?? day one - we both didn’t really talk at all - i was shit ass scared inside - because of everyone too - since i’m basically pure ass garbage in that group and everyone else is just s o gooooooooood. i remember jumping on your blog and checking you out and being so fucking in love with it - or how we were supposed to plot at first but we never really did because my ass sort of shat her own pants and was like omg no i’m annoying a f what is this :((((( wHO WOULD’VE GUESSED THAT SUCH A MESS OF A START WOULD LEAD TO SO MUCH BANTER ?? LIKE SO MUCH FUCKING BANTER W T F AND I LIVE FOR IT. like properly live for it i’m not even kidding.  cards against humanity - for a moment i thought you did think i was some deprived ass cave woman who needed to calm her tits, bUT NO. and then the whole shrek inside joke turning into something serious and becoming a cult. i don’t even understand nor am i sure of how i managed to push it all that far - but clearly we all still enjoy c; (  or maybe not…  ) basically i can’t believe that a verse allowed us to become friends and talk ooc as much as we do. literally it went from being an hour or two to a whole fucking d a y. like w o w me waking up - you being awake - us getting in a call - and then me staying up until 3 a.m still fucking talking. someone needs to call a psychiatrist before i lose my mind at night. - ––––––– honestly it’s just very surprising how fast it all happened, but nonetheless i am very fucking thankful for it all. loves you lots alex !! you know your butt can count with my spanish one whenever for anything c: - enjoy that sims game c; I’M GLAD TO BE ABLE TO HANG OUT WITH YOU IN ALL HONESTY. LIKE I’M PROPERLY GLAD. TIMEZONES CAN SUCK A N U T ALEX.             L O V E S     Y O U    L O T S !! i hope you’re throwing up glitter all over the sims 2

DONKEYRIN. (  ERIN  )

@humantovch | lcstrichards |  (  both blogs since your butt really does need a shoutout. ) pff how the f u c k did a simple message of yours get us where it did. you broke the silence between the two of us and i’m just sO THANKFUL HONESTLY. Thankful to the point where i don’t know what kind of words to even use to express how in love i am with our banter and our plotting and our writing and just everything. shrek it erin, just shrek it. it’s funny how we both clicked in like not even 5 seconds. ten minutes into us plotting and we both were already trash for what we were going to do. that lead us to grow obsessed to the point where we had over 7 fucking paras at one point (  i think seven ??  ) which were as long as a testament confirming my d e a t h after all the angst we’ve put both mason and riley through. such a cute ass  tHING LEAD TO US ACTUALLY TALKING LMAO ?? AND ALL I HAVE TO SAY IS W O W. it’s been a hell of a ride so far. and i don’t have words to express how lucky i am to be able to write with someone as great as you. i truly admire how well you write and i still don’t make much sense of how anyone so fabulous would even consider writing a simple sentence whether it’s ic or ooc to some shrek obsessed hoe. like for reals i don’t even understand ?? but i’m thankful erin sO THANKFUL. as i always say i don’t think we would’ve ever written together if it weren’t for you sliding into my dm’s that smoothly (  damn boi  ) like even i was shook to know that someone with such quality would even tHINK ABOUT IT LMAO. TRASH ERIN I AM T R A S H. i’m blessed basically - blessed and i do mean it. clearly i’m super comfortable talking and that just speak for itself. i’m living honestly. (   just kidding - i’m deceased   ) all i have to say is that once you leave i’m going to miss you a lot. are banter has already become something i look forward to whether it’s for plotting purposes or pure random ass shit. i’m just honestly deceased if i’m honest and i’ve already prepared myself a small coffin to drop myself into for that while you’re away. i shall resurrect from the dumpster like a queen. THANKS FOR EVERYTHING ERIN I MEAN IT !! YOU DON’T KNOW HOW THANKFUL I AM TO HAVE YOU AROUND AND YOU KNOW THAT IF YOU EVER NEED ANYTHING IMMA BE THERE TO HELP YOU !! LOVES YOU LIKE A FUCKING LOT EY.

QUEEN MARIESA. (  MARIESA )

@hunterscode | silvercursed | mariesaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. fuck me seriously. how the fuck did you find me with jupiter back then i don’t even understand. this ooc friendship was meant to happen right away and it did. like what the fuck why would you even decided to hit such a trash can up. i don’t remember who began talking but who cares really. just look at all the banter we have now and all the slow threads and all the gems. i’m so happy to be able to call you a friend of mine honestly. we went far to the point where now you even have an emoji of your own face :queenmariesa: and i am totes trash and i do mean t o t e s trash. (  besides thanks to that group verse of yours i was able to meet my dad - alex  ) i’m thankful for everything relating us honestly. i can call you a mother, a queen, a mami i don’t even know anymore. whatever it is i know for a fact that i can go to you for everything and anything. you’ve helped me through some rough situations where i felt that i was legit gonna d i e and i know that sometimes i’m annoying as fuck but really you don’t know how truly glad i am to have bumped into my european homie. our mom - daughter jokes honestly never get old and I AM NOT SURE WHERE TO GO WITH THIS BUT I AM RAMBLING ALREADY. basically i’m just so glad that we stumbled upon each other that day - if it weren’t for us doing that i’d probably be rotting in my bedroom. now at least i’m blooming in there instead of turning into crap (   which i already am *wink*  *wink*   ) anyways mariesa i hope we’ll be able to write as much as we want to and get everything done someday as well as continue on our great ass banter which i am truly and honestly in love with. did you ever wonder how much of a coincidence it is for mason’s cat and jupiter to have the same name l m a o. just know that i am fucking trash and i truly do love you. thank you for being a friend that i know i can count on no matter what mariesa. you know i love you vv much bbYYY LIKE FOR REALS MY QUEEN I LOVE YOU <3

In the end. thank you guys for sticking around and making me crack up as much as you have. you’re truly loved and appreciated c: even shrek is getting emotional omg SOZ FOR THE LENGTH ACC NOT REALLY           are you in tears... because i aM

BONUS EDITED BY ALEX LMAO

acc cried with this wtf

[joz-yyh]

Rust - Ch. 4 (Preview)

SUMMARY: A “how they got together” and “where they are now” fic in which I detail how Damian and Tardif meet and consequently fall in love. No beta. Read at your own risk.

RATING: EXPLICIT (for violence / sexual themes)

PAIRING: Bounty Hunter x Flagellant

WORD COUNT: 3,542

A/N: Very important note, but this chapter is a FLASHBACK. A mission at the warrens goes from bad to worse. (warning for descriptions of decay and animal injury since Fergus is temporarily infected with a pestilence. She gets better, don’t worry).

I expand on Tardif and Paracelsus’ friendship (they taunt him relentlessly for comic relief and also because he deserves a slice of humble pie) as well as Damian and Willaim’s friendship (yay, trauma bonding).

P.S. Tardif has the "Warrens Phobe" quirk and Paracelsus is nonbinary.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————–

Tardif can’t say he’s too excited about being assigned to the sewers.

He's convinced their indisposed benefactor (who would rather delegate their orders through the groundskeeper and the town crier than address their recruits in person) gets some sick enjoyment out of exploiting his, "condition."

The blasted nurses had let it slip, the rumor mill running rampant, and Tardif has to disagree with the buzzing conspiracy theories because his mild discomfort isn't severe enough to be deemed a "phobia."

The bounty hunter is not squeamish, per say. He couldn't be, not when he's built a livelihood atop all the bounties he's slain, a throne of cadavers, a manmade undertaker, but the idea of sloshing about in disease-ridden orifices of unspeakable origin makes him whinge. 

Tardif does little to hide his irritation, his reluctance indelible as their less than merry group travels to the dark, nauseating cradle of filth that awaits them. 

The flagellant is in formation ahead of him, though the brooding mercenary refuses to acknowledge his existence, staring at the sickening ground, the gaudy sky, anywhere that isn't the slashed ribbons of the holy man's swaying back muscles.

Damian seems to follow his example, the religious chatterbox strangely misanthropic, even when it comes to the other members of their expedition party, his devout blessings left unawarded, revoked without cause and Tardif tries not to dwell on the reason why.

"I am curious, could you be any less pleasant," Paracelsus quips, poking their nose out from behind William, addressing the bounty hunter's stormcloud of misery.

"No less annoyin' than ye," Tardif derides with an ardent growl. 

Maybe with one more body between them, he can muffle the sound of Paracelsus' gibberish, their voice having to pass through another ear on it's way to his, tolling it out, until it was spent entirely.

Putting his plan into effect, the bounty hunter breaks the line, striding past the flagellant, the mercenary swapping positions with him out of his own willful accord.

Aside from the abrupt shuffle and the light gasp of surprise, the morbid priest carries on with the change, the two men parallel forces on opposite plains.

The lead position now claimed for himself, the cramp that had been working it's way into his neck begins to abate at facing forward again. It's a temporary relief, the seedy view laid out before him just as terribly abysmal as any other part of the squalid mire of the warrens.

Suddenly, their progress stops. The line waits.

"What's the hold up," Para calls, their smaller height impeded by the backsides of the three taller men ahead.

"Blockages," Tardif grumbles, referring to the massive cave-in obstructing the way.

"You're one big blockage," Para groans rolling their eyes beneath the mask, hand on their hip for emphasis.

William's cheeks inflate with a stifled laugh, coughing into his hand to disguise it further.

Damian's exasperation is no different, an exhale hidden beneath a winded sniffle, the holy man shifting to hide it.

Tardif's eyes narrow behind his visor, darting between the two offending characters. He knows when he's being made a fool of.

"Only got two shovels," Tardif barks in retaliation, angling his voice towards the demanding, hooked-nose caboose and anyone else questioning his competence.

"And? You're fifty maybe, seventy five percent upper arm strength if you factor in the axe. You can handle it," the scientist retorts, failing to see the problem.

"I'll help clear it," Damian interjects, sustained by his own bare hands, volunteering his body in place of tools. He approaches the pile from the left, chipping away at what stone and debris he can wrap his bloody, masochistic fingers around.

"Yes, count me in too," William offers, the chivalrous sort, not one to stand idly by, "Paracelsus, would you mind looking after Fergus for me, please?"

The plague doctor nods, taking the hound by the collar and leading her a safe distance away.

Tardif has lost the grounds to argue, wielding the remaining shovel as he solemnly aids in the digging.

Paracelsus resides on an abandoned storage crate as they wait, the loyal canine sat beside them, passing time by throwing a leather-bound ball and petting gray fur to the tune of manly exertion and sifting dirt. As adorable as her shaggy scruff is, the plague doctor grows bored of such mundane activities, their posture bent into rigid crescent, their chin perched upon a gloved fist as they oversee the excavation of the wreckage.

"You done yet Armstrong," Paracelsus asks, a heavy sigh winding in the hollow space of their mask, the jeer aimed at none other than their favorite punching-bag Tardif.

"Keep rushin' me, bird brain," the bounty hunter threatens, driving the metal spade of his shovel into the rubble, "and yer gunna find out."

Para holds onto Fergus in mock distress, clutching svelte arms around the hound's collared neck.

"Oh Fergus, you'll protect me from this nasty squawking cockatrice, won’t you," the former med student begs, their voice a patronizing, ghostly tremble.

William and Damian lean outward from opposing ends of the dirt pile to exchange a look of levity, a silent audience to the insults that would make Sarmenti proudly laugh in glee if he were here.

"Not my fault we were underprepared," the plague doctor taunts in a quieter voice meant for Fergus’ ears, sticking their tongue out, though the gesture is safely hidden beneath their face covering. 

Tardif takes that affront personally, about to act on his baser instincts as he plants the shovel into the ground.

"OK, that's it," he growls, cracking his knuckles, preemptive of a fight. 

Before he can move another muscle, a trickle of gravel hits the bounty hunter in the head, a clunky ping resonating off his helmet.

"Sorry," Damian offers, feeling responsible for the act of gravity, clawing at the embedded earth closest to the bounty hunter. 

Then they hear it, the shrill screech of the diabolical thing they're meant to purge as clearly as nails being hammered into their ears. It sounds like the last wails of a butcher’s slaughter, of grinding metal pipes bent into horrendous shapes and for a moment, everyone's blood runs cold as the tunnel shudders, more hulking debris falling down from above. The thing is close. This is a warning.

"I don't think you can take credit for that. Wasn’t your doing," William speaks softly, absolving the flagellant of any wrongdoing that he may have assumed. 

Damian turns in his direction, gives him the barest traces of a smirk, a shallow nod of gratitude.

The houndmaster clears his throat, calling the rest of the group's attention. "Concentrate men," William says, his voice a dutiful, inspiring cry, "We're nearly through. Let's keep at it."

"Wait,” Damian says, uncovering a weak spot, “stand back." 

With a few insistent scrapes, the remaining pile crumbles like a dam, an avalanche of filth skittering past their feet. A barrage of polluted dust clouds the air, the irritating particles invading the sinuses, those with masks immune to coughing it back out.

Fergus sneezes in response, her furry expression downtrodden as she returns to her master’s heel.

"Finally," Paracelsus says, hopping off their crate to give a ceremonious clap," good job you two."

Tardif simply growls at being left out of the plague doctor’s acknowledgements.

The group presses on, greeted by their first encounter a few short paces later.  

The boar-like creatures inhabiting this hell hole may appear crude and uneducated, but some prove to be strong and resourceful, intelligent enough to construct armor and weapons, the younger spawn using their much bigger counterparts as meat shields.

Tardif learns this the hard way, an agro of spears, arrows and bile all rallied against him.

Paracelsus teases him about being too slow as well as too wide of a target before patching him up. 

With a sharp whistle, William's trusted hound picks off the smallest and weakest runt, her maw tearing the swine's mutated flesh to pieces, putting an end to a dodgy tussle.

Fergus, the poor girl, hasn't been the same since.

As well trained a battle companion as she may be, her body and brain are first and foremost animal in nature. It isn't entirely unheard of for a scent or a sound to cater to distraction, but the degree in which canine lags behind to circle the same spot, wandering as if she's lost her way is cause for alarm.

"What's wrong girl," the ex lawman says, kneeling down to his four-legged friend's level.

Despite his outstretched hand, the hound shimmies away on her paws, tongue flopping out the side of her mouth, whimpering in pain. 

The Scotch-Irishman’s expression turns bleak, fearing the worst conclusion, knowing the symptoms of such behavior.

"Something isn't right," he says, a note of desperation in his voice as he turns to address the group,"I'll need a moment to look after her." 

Paracelsus shrugs,"Fine by me. I wanted to harvest some samples anyway."  

"Hrm," the bounty hunter declares, a chagrin of annoyance heralded by the delay, but nonetheless tolerant.

"Very well," Damian accedes, ambivalent, his focus drawn to the tormenting obelisk on the other side of the room.

William reaches into the cache of supplies, searching for a homemade recipe of herbs and peanut butter, the medicine rolled into a treat. 

He holds the tempting concoction in his palm, the hound coming to sniff at it suspiciously. Fergus snags the morsel between her teeth, dropping it down to the ground, clawing at it with her forepaws, picking off little bites. 

William waits for the combination of ingredients to take effect, finding it strange that regurgitation never occurs. 

Nervously, the blonde male rubs a hand through his straw beard, trying to think of another solution.

"Paracelsus, could I ask for a second opinion," William inquires, his wholesome features warped into a mixture of fear and concealed desperation. 

The plague doctor finishes up gathering a souvenir of green plaque from the wall as part of their collective field study, turning their beak in his direction. They wipe the excess grime on dark robes, rocking the knifepoint of their swiveled dagger between gloved fingers as they approach.

"Before my prognosis," the scholar advises, their voice a muffled distortion caused by the mask, "I must warn you, my expertise lies in the human body, and while land mammals are quite similar, there are some discrepancies.” 

"Even I can tell she's eaten somethin’ rotten,” Tardif grunts, impertinent, “Just look at her."

"Yes, thank you. I am aware. Nothing I try is working," William explains, his words polite at face value, though his expression is cross with umbrage

"Nothin’ is workin’ because she's diseased,” Tardif counters, his repressed opinions coming to light, “Only a matter of time ‘fore she's turnin’ into one of them. The heir got it wrong, choosing you for this place."

The houndmaster glares at him, schooling his expression so as not to reveal how abhorrent he truly felt, “I think it's too early for us to be jumping to conclusions like that."

"There's a good chance he's right, you know," Paracelsus states, deadpan.

The beastmaster gapes at the pair of them, their cold, unfeeling bluntness stabbing like splinters down his spine. He should have known the good doctor wasn't the type to sugar coat the facts. 

"I would have to run some tests, but from what I can see, she's mostly likely infested with parasites," says the chemist, relaying their analysis, “and judging by the mutagen, her affliction is going to get worse."

William goes quiet. Understandably, he's not thrilled by the news.

"There was an old laboratory table 300 yard back," Para continues, "I can scrounge up something mediocre, though it would be completely experimental and I couldn't guarantee the outcome. Even under perfect conditions there are risks, unless you prefer I cut her open here, without any anesthesia?”

"Bawbags, the lot of you,” William seethes, reaching his wits end, “Surely, there are other options to consider. Between the three of us, there must be something we haven't thought of yet."

Despite his altruism, a telltale panic creeps it’s way into William, incurring a nervous sickness from it. So far, any attempts at finding a cure for Fergus have proven fruitless, his companions less than evangelical, but there is one man's counsel he hasn’t heard.

His eyes search for the man who’s gone astray and finds the flagellant standing beneath an ominous stone totem.

"Damian, could I seek your assistance," the beastmaster asks, hoping this morbid saint would produce for him a better result than the other two. If Junia could use the holy book to heal, perhaps he could achieve the same miracles as well.

At hearing his name, the priest breaks from his trance, surprised that the curse of this device had consumed his mind so, the suffering wails of the damned blocking out any previous thought.

He pulls his hand away from the decrepit altar, shaking off the residual stress of voices, his services needed elsewhere.

"Yes, of course,” the flagellant replies, heading towards the man that beckoned him, “but why call upon me?"

"Your …," William pauses, pondering how he could phrase his next words before continuing,"abilities … you can remove disease, yes? Do you think you could try it on Fergus?"

"I can't say I've used my blood on animals before, but I have faith," Damian reassures him. 

Seeing that they were no longer needed, the scientist returns to the biology investigations, fascinated by squirming masses littering the chamber, kneeling down to scoop various samples into their petri dishes to examine for later.

Tardif is startled when the plague doctor backs into him, their bony elbow catching his side as they stand up from whisking around the spot he’s currently occupying.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were out of your element here,” they note, but there's no humor in it, merely a vocal recording of evidence. Their intrigue is reserved for the glowing green swirling about in the vial they've doused in some ph altering chemical. 

"Do ye have to do that so close to me," Tardif grouses.

"You're the one standing in a mycelium colony," Para says. 

The bounty hunter looks down, upturning his heel to assess the "colony" smeared across the tapered soul of his boot. He stomps his foot back down, attempting to scrape the heterotrophic tendrils off.

“Just hurry up and collect your toys so we can go,” Tardif grumbles, trying to avoid any more muck on the floor.

“Oh, you mean this,” They ask, shoving a sample of it in front of his face. It's black, like moldy seaweed and the bounty hunter doesn’t know how something so dead can still squirm around as it dangles precariously from the end of their tweezers.

“Gah,” Tardif cries, flinching away, trying to pretend he wasn’t revolted by the grime and failing.

William sighs at the brooding mercenary’s candid yelp, disappointed by the two stooges and their buffoonery.

“How can they be so carefree when we may very well be marching to our deaths down here,” the houndmaster speaks, confiding in the holy man, “This place is teeming with the screams of tormented beasts. I am afraid the sound is driving me mad.”

Damian says nothing as he holds Fergus’ paw in his hand, the soft pads swollen and crusty.

The hound master looks down at his furry companion, her body draped on it’s side, across his lap. He holds her muzzle in his hand, stroking along her side with the other, her erratic panting a constant concern.

“I am sorry, I am not quite myself. I am so worried about her,” William explains, "Do you think your Light magic will work?"

“The Light is omnipotent,” Damian says, hovering his hand over her bloated stomach, the animal’s whistling, ragged whines intensifying, “I am merely a vessel to be tested. If she is meant to be saved, then she will be.”

The flagellant can feel something wicked brewing inside her gut, squirming to get loose. He concentrates on it, as if it were contained within his own holy flesh, calling forth the Light to exorcise the vile parasite before it grows into something more perilous. 

The priest lowers his hand, less red than before, the toxic presence snuffed from the would-be host.

William regards him expectantly,"Well? How’d it go?"

"Your Fergus has a strong heart,” Damian adds with a close-lipped smile, “She'll make it." 

In that moment, so consumed with gratitude and relief, the houndmaster has no choice, but to consider the flagellant of a more comely appearance (if only he smile more like that).

He may have even kissed him if not for disturbing his beloved Fergus, but the houndmaster quickly squanders such absurd delusions.

"Perhaps we should make camp, give her sufficient time to recover," the ex-law man suggests.

Damian nods in accord, looking towards the other members of their party, pending their approval.

Tardif grunts,"Not sure how much good it will do, but aye, if we must."

Paralecus is already leagues ahead of them, plopping down in a slightly less infested part of the room, arranging the stew kettle and firewood, using her dagger as a stand-in can opener for the rations.

Sticking to what he's good at, the bounty hunter keeps a lookout, the scrawling darkness of the conjoined tunnels prime candidates for an ambush, but despite the plausibility of danger, his eyes deviate from their post and towards the man he’d been so eager to avoid.

Impervious to the ick around them, the flagellant and the houndmaster seem to be making the best of it, the two batting eyelashes at each other and exchanging coy smiles as if it's the only emotion that exists. 

He fixates on the way the deranged priest is gently consoling Fergus with kind and gentle strokes, nearly touching Williams stagnant fingertips after each pass of his hand.

Without realizing it, Tardif grinds his teeth until they ache, his jaw locked up from the pressure.

He already hates this mission. He's beginning to hate it even more.

“You sure you don’t want to eat,” the plague Doctor asks him, holding out a soup bowl swimming with inedible colors, “your metabolism is going to run out.”

The bounty hunter’s stomach leaps into his throat, though he maintains his facade, hoping the young upstart hadn’t caught his negligence.

He must've hid it well enough, Paraclesus showing no indication of teasing him about slacking off. 

“Not hungry,” Tardif barks, petulant, turning his head away and crossing his arms in disgust to sell it further.

Paracelsus shrugs, shaking their head as they return their attention to disinfecting the rancid food, letting the bowl rest on their lap as they wait for the remedy to take hold. 

“Suit yourself, but don’t come crying to me when your accuracy turns to shite. I am not wasting any of my vapors on you,” they say, lifting their mask to take a spoonful of slop into their mouth without a care for their health.

“Wouldn’t want ye to anyway,” Tardif says, “Can’t rely on blasted snake oil in a bottle.”

Paracelsus turns to him, the black, beady lens of their mask shining with an evil glint. 

The doctor flicks their spoon at him and the surly man has to duck to avoid getting shot in the face with a trajectory of dubious porridge.

"I can’t wait to tell Boudica about your sissy squeals the moment we get back. She's going to have a field day with you,”  the researcher snubs as they take another bite, chewing loudly with a brooding scowl.

"If you survive that long," Tardif whispers under his breath, returning to a neutral stance.

"What was that," the scientist says pointedly, those lenses catching the torchlight with another foreboding shimmer.

"Nothing," he grumbles, turning his back to them, crossing his arms obstinately.

At some point, the flagellant must've traversed the room, the priest now standing before them and what an awful sentry Tardif is turning out to be if he couldn't even signal his approach.

“Paracelsus, could you spare another bowl?"

Wordlessly, the plague doctor fulfills the request, handing over a hearty portion of stew.

"Thank you," the flagellant says before departing, Tardif nothing more than a figment, a ghost in the mist for all the concession Damian spares him. 

He watches on as the priest offers the bowl to William, Fergus still resting across his legs as he reaches out to take it.

“What about you," William asks, hesitant to be the only one partaking,"Don't you need to eat?"

The flagellant shakes his head,“That's kind of you, but I have no need.”

At that, the houndmaster risks a bite, the odd earthy flavor going down hard, his dwindling appetite shrinking further.

“I'm pleased Fergus is on the mend,” the holy man says, "But you’re certain you do not wish to return? I would not hold it against you.”

"This old girl has been through worse,” William says, patting the arch of her back, “though, I won’t call on her to fight. Not for this mission at least. That responsibility falls to me now. I won’t risk it."

Damian gives a shallow nod. “You may call upon me again,” he offers, “Should she ever need it.”

The hound master laughs, almost spitting out the overly salted broth.

“I may have to take you up on that."

{End Preview}

[thevoidkrp]

I.M/Im Changkyun

You’ve been accepted to fuckboy rp! Check your tumblr messages for the admin’s links and add us within 48 hours please. Welcome to the fam! 

IC Name/s - Im Changkyun / I.M Group or Occupation - Monsta X Company - Starship entertainment

OOC Age - 22 Time Zone - GMT+7 Tell us about your muse in 100 words or more -

Changkyun saw himself as a cool kid. He’s doing what he wanted, following his dreams which not everyone can achieve, and he’s satisfied with his path. Yet, he didn’t think he loved himself enough not to ruin himself in the way he enjoyed. In front of the camera lens, Changkyun appeared as a cheerful brat with jokes and weirdness, but behind those sceneries was another him, a very different him. It would be the person who sneaked out of his small shared dorm, bringing himself to another place, where he didn’t have to act like a good boy.

Changkyun, the cute maknae with two little dimples, whose favorite game is playingpretend.

Other Tell us about how you like to rp - I do both pm and wall. For my writing preference, I’d love to roleplay in para or even short para. I don’t mind doing action as long as it’s detailed enough. Any plot is welcomed.

Questions for idol applicants Write about 2 friendships your muse has in real life (not au) with people who aren’t in their group

- Bam Bam and Mark from Got7: Changkyun, the cave man, barely expresses anything about his friendship with people from other groups, but because of his leader’s good relationship with GOT7, he started getting along with them as well. They’re not that close due to the hectic schedules, so he mostly talks to them via SNS.

- Brother Su: He’s from the same company with him, and they’ve worked together for his mixtape. Hyungsoo is chill and mature, never acts superior in front of him even he’s much older. Changkyun enjoys his company, cause the male doesn’t force him to talk.

Explain the way that your muse feels about at least 2 members currently within their group -

If anyone asked who’s Changkyun’s bff, the answer would undoubtedly be Jooheon. They didn’t have good impressions about each other at the beginning when they first met. Jooheon used to see him as an outsider, and even a spotlight stealer, after what they had gone through the survival show. Still, they’ve come a long way, and the kid was no longer a thorn in his eyes. Jooheon loves his maknae a lot.

The second one is Shownu, his leader. People might think they’re awkward for each other just because of the age gap, but it isn’t true. Changkyun likes Shownu, for being a protective leader and a caring oldest brother,and he’s someone Changkyun finds himself enjoy leaning on. Like Brother Su, Shownu can handle with his silence comfortably without complaining.

How would your muse react upon meeting a non idol who doesn’t know who they are?-

Even the idols couldn’t identify him offstage, so he’s completely fine with. He thinks it’s weird to admit himself for being a celebrity when they can’t recognize him, so he rarely does it. Instead, he might pull out the pretending card again, playing as a random hot twink?

[paul-patts-blog]

Lauryl’s Wishlist and Resolutions

Berlioz

More Music Stuff: I’ve gotten to do stuff with Ber/music in the past but a lot of it has been me rping with me and sending him to festivals and concerts. I’d like to see him interact with some of the musically-inclined people in town-- maybe even collaborate? I have some subgoals for this:

Go to concert/festivals with another character: I think rping an arc would be so fun and I personally love concerts/festivals so.

Produce someone else’s music: Ber will be starting uni and having school projects...he will need guinea pigs.

Write more music blog stuff: I’ve done very few, rather casual posts in the past about artists Ber likes-- reviews etc. I would love to post more of this (maybe even through BDRP radio? /looks at radio)

Anxiety Arc: I really want Ber to start learning about his anxiety and working through it. Specifically, he needs to go to a therapist, haha.

Sexuality: Ber’s come a long way since I got him, but he still feels majorly ‘out of place’ in the LGBTQIA community. I’d like to explore more of those feelings somehow. I got a few ideas. 

Kiara

Discover her passions!! Kiara doesn’t really know what she wants to do with her life and I want her to try a bunch of stuff as she figures it out. So does your character have a cool hobby? Let Kiara do that cool hobby with ur character!

Race and Identity: one important thing for me when I got Kiara and picked Halsey was dealing with her struggle with her appearance and how she felt ‘out of place’ with the Lyons and as a POC in general. I’d like to explore this conflict more.

Continue to deal with her issues: Kiara needs to keep going to therapy and she needs to admit to herself she has problems that she is denying please my daughter. 

Best Friend to lovers: I think this trope would be rly good for Kiara because too often she sees people as “romantic options’ first and not as the people they really are. I would love a slow burn romance for Kiara that surprises both her and me, really.

Hades (oh boy)

Re-learn how to use his powers-- and maybe the way to do this is to like.. do something heroic tbh? instead of always burning people up and fuckin’ everyone UP. Yeah, I want Hades to do something heroic. 

Leave Swynlake: I want Hades story to take him away from Swynlake and back again

Chester

Pending tbh you will all see

Milla

Board stuff: specifically, I’d like to see Milla start enacting new strictures for magicks. I’d love for her to try to manipulate this type of stuff through the other board members

Get a magical object or something magical: Whether through the Merlin’s objects or otherwise, I would love Milla to actually seek magic herself.

MILF Reigns Supreme: I love exploring Milla’s sexuality-- it’s one of my fave things that i’ve done with her. I’d love her to get more boy toys (maybe even girl toys) and tbh, I would be open, if it’s right, to have that relationship get more complicated than just sex.

Miscarriage: That being said, this is a rather dark storyline but Milla is obsessed with control and to miscarry would be-- the opposite of having control. Anyone up for it?

Nala

RP her more in general lmao

Get her more female friends!! She really doesn’t have a lot of good female relationships (part of that is because many of her relationships have ended up dropping). But Nala deserves more friendships

Take Nala on dates! I also want Nala to try to date a little. She’s so work-focused, like lots of my characters, so this would be a new side to her that I haven’t gotten to explore

Have Nala literally kick ass/para with some sort of physical/action element to it: Okay so we say it jokingly, but after Nala’s surgery and recovery I’d love for her to actually whoop somebody’s ass even if it’s just while going back to kickboxing. Nala’s identity as an athlete is super important to her-- whenever I write about Nala’s relationship to her body, I get chills, because she loves her body so much and is so centered in it. So it would be fun to do a physical-heavy para.

Smut tbh for the same reasons as i just said.

Milo

Also rp him more in general lmao

Finish merlin’s objects/write more essays

Finish Cave Excavation-- find a Merlin’s object

Desk sex

Wow these are all so specific unlike my others

Explore his sexuality: Milo is definitely somewhere on the ace spectrum  (gray, demi what have u) and so exploring that with his girlfriend Jane (maybe she’s into it one night, he’s not, she wants to try stuff that he doesnt’... u know, just those kinds of conversations) would be really complicated and fun. As someone who is on the ace spectrum myself, It’s also kind of important to me to try to honor that side of him and acknowledge it in play-- along WITH the smut.

Slay a demon/be a hero: ok bc just think about nerdy milo thatch with his glasses all askew having accidentally saved the day. I love it.

Kiki

Get kidnapped: Kiki has powerful magic blood come get her

Break her broom

Best Friends to lovers/ slow burn romance: mentioning this for kiki too, since Kiki hasn’t been kissed ever and is very romantic, I’d love to play out a good ol’ teen romance with someone. But consideirng Kiki’s crazy hectic life, yeah, it’s gonna have to really evolve.

Rajah

TIGER OUT IN FRONT OF SOMEONE: For whatever reason-- to save them or because he’s scared or stressed or loses control.

Get injured: That being said, I’d love to have Raj get shot or get hurt while trying to do his job, mostly because Raj is a charge first, ask questions later type of guy but also because-- since he heals faster-- if he’s in the hospital, it could give him away. (Can anyone say hospital bREAK)

More friends! Raj has a few, but he needs 2 get out more smh

Introduce Jyoti to people: I want his little sister to come see him and I want Raj to have people to introduce her to! Jyoti will bring a lot of the past back to Raj’s life which he currently keeps super hidden.

Anita:

Biwakening. Make it happen.

Night on the town

One night stand tbh

Dating around-- specifically, blind date/double date with someone this would be hiLARIOUS for me

Stand up to someone (tbh Cruella)

Anita Explores Her Painting: Anita doesnt’ take her talent seriously and I want that to change. I’d love to do some more stuff with her art including--

Nude portraits anyone?

Anita teaches fingerpainting!! Anita gets her very own income and is thus empowered thru painting !!! ah!

Paint fight :D

More Volunteering: what i like about anita is that though she is an introvert, she loves to be involved in her community. If you have any town projects or somethin’ you need volunteers for, ask Anita!!

The Great Prince

Also get into a physical fight of some kind; i’d love for him to defend the forest or Bambi or somethin’ as the deer. I think RPing that would be really fun for me

Explore more areas of the forest: I’ve already started to invent some parts of the forest as I go, but I’d like to try to see if I can’t put Prince in some of these deeper parts. If your character wants to get lost in the woods-- hit me up.

Make more human connections/get in touch with his human side: Hopefully, Prince will be in town more and can make friends with people who are not animals haha.

Explore comic timing/situations with the Prince! The Prince doesnt’ know a lot about the human world-- like how to work technology-- so i want to put him in more situations where he is totally out of his element. The best way to do this will probably be with “The Great Prince Vs. Human-thing-here” starters. Be on the look out. (Or if u really want to have ur character help my poor deer son, message me).

Paul Pongo Patts

Okay he’s my newest babe so these r kinda repetitive from his app--

Start studying to maybe get into uni maybe ahhh my babe

Let himself go on dates: Paul kind of thinks that part of his life is over now that he has kids and he feels kind of guilty about that kind of stuff and so  I want him to go easy on himself. He deserves a night out and to feel like he is handsome, young and romantic bc darling u ARE handsome young and romantic.

That being said-- get wooed. Paul is a woo-er. Someone woo my woo-er.

Also mend things with Perdita/ rp them growing back together as friends and as two people who respect and care for each other and maybe-- just maybe-- lovers again.

DAD THINGS-- shopping for his kids, dealing with baby spit-up, babyproofing his apartment wow im like turned on by this lauryl calm ur eggs

Interact with Magicks: All KINDS of magicks please throw them at Paul

Consider illegal means of getting money… Paul has grown up around shady ppl and has since stayed clean of shady business himself. But that doesnt’ mean he doesn’t feel temptations. I’d like to exploooore those temptations.

My Character’s Personal Resolutions: 

Ber: “Don’t fuck up...anything.” 

Kiara: “lol” (tbh kiara is so lowkey depressed she liek?? has no resolutions help her) 

Hades: “Fix my mistakes.” 

Chester: pending

Milla: “Make Swynlake Great Again”

Milo: “Spend as much time as I can with Jane.”

Nala: “Get the Lyons Foundation off the ground / kick my physical therapy in the ass / be running by spring”

Rajah: “Repair things with my family. Live honestly-- be proud of who I am.” (ow raJJJ)

Kiki: “Make my family proud. Make Howl proud.” (ughh)

Anita: “Cause no more harm.” 

The Great Prince: “Be there for my son if he will have me.” 

Paul: “Be the greatest dad / provide for my kids.” 

[amyrizz]

2017

A Late Snow Day Reflection on 2017. I didn’t want to put this on my facebook, twitter on instagram where a lot of people follow me so here we go, a tiny bit more private. 

2017 Definitely had its ups and downs. I had some really good days, some really shitty days and some okay days. My Mental Health and anxiety weren’t fantastic. I left my therapist in February planning on finding a new one ASAP but I never did. 2018 I plan on finding a new therapist sooner and hopefully find one that clicks with me better. I experienced some new challenges at my job. I love my job but man it’s been harder this year. I have been tested at my job and it’s been making me question things a lot more than I did before than I started in 2015. I still figuring those things out in this school year(since i’m a para) and hopefully they will be figured out when the school year ends in June. I learned that money is a huge problem for me. I am not very good with money and I definitely need to figure out a way to make more money, spend less and save more. I definitely need to also learn how to save for big events that I really want to attend so that when they come up I’m not struggling to figure out how to afford them.(Long weekend cons and traveling mostly). I learned that a lot more things make me emotional than they used to and that’s okay but it’s just a bit newer and different for me to handle. (Hopefully a new therapist can help with that). I learned that I REALLY have a tough time with change(of any kind) but that sometimes it’s necessary. I learned that time is so fucking precious. You really have no idea how much longer you have left with people, animals, where you’re living, etc( all kinds of things). I’m not just talking about deaths but also friendships ending, people moving away, etc. 

 I gained a lot more confidence with my singing voice. I have been singing my whole life but I used to be really shy and more nervous about singing in front of people by myself. I got to have some vocal lessons and a workshop from two Broadway Actors, Jeremy Jordan and  James Snyder, who I look up to. Jeremy Jordan, my favorite Broadway Actor of all time, actually told me that I have a Very Nice Voice. That was a HUGE confidence booster and special moment for me.  I also returned to the stage in July, first time since college,  and got my own solo song in the show. It had been a dream of mine for almost 20 years to have my own solo song in a show and it finally happened. I gained SO much confidence from that show. It was an amazing experience for me. I really developed a strong bond to the Supernatural Family. I am in it for life now! My friends who I met at SPN Con in 2016 and I gained even closer in 2017. I talk to a few one of them every day. I also met some of my SPN Family in person who I have been talking to online for a while at SPN Con in September. And of course I met totally new people who are fucking amazing people as well. Speaking of Supernatural, I learned that some things are worth waiting for even if it’s for a REALLY Long time. (waiting for cons are AWFUL but always worth it). I learned that being selfish is okay in certain circumstances. Your mental health and taking care of yourself is so fucking important. And you don’t need to say sorry for your feelings, those are not something you should be apologizing for. I’m still catching myself for say sorry about my feelings but I’m trying to correct it every-time it happens since it’s been a habit for so long. I learned that being on my phone and social media all the time isn’t extremely mentally healthy and it’s been affecting so many of my relationships. I learned that if you are in a negative environment do whatever you can to ignore it and escape it if you can. That whining and complaining is not attractive, just like it’s not with the preschoolers I teach. 

Here’s more of a breakdown now of my 2017 by month and numbers:

January 2017:

15th- Matt and I went on a staycation to Rye Brook, NY over MLK weekend even though I was getting over the stomach bug. 

20th- I FINALLY saw Waitress with my friend Tara. I even got to see Jessie Mueller before she left. It was incredible and extremely emotional.

26th-29th- Broadway Con weekend Year 2 with Nicole! I got to meet James Monroe Igleheart and Adam Jacobs after seeing Aladdin. I got amazing photos with Ben Cameron and Anthony Rapp. I learned how to do musical improv. I met amazing friends, stalked Darren Criss and many other amazing memories!

February 2017:

4th- FINALLY saw Dear Evan Hansen with my family. Holy shit Ben Platt is a god, that is all. I sobbed throughout most of the show.

6th- Saw Lacey Sturm’s solo show also with Stitched up Heart. It was an incredible show and worth it staying up late on a Monday and going into work the next day :P

10th-12th- Surprise trip from Matt to go to Providence, Rhode Island. We saw my favorite play on tour, The  Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime, which was amazing to see again. We went to another favorite of mine, the Bodies Exhibit, which was fucking amazing and so cool again! We went to Monster Mini Golf, which Matt introduced me too, and had a blast. We watched the Grammy’s. And we met up with my Grandma in the snow to have lunch. 

13th- Had an online Galentines Day Celebration with Ashley, Rose and Tessy. We made waffles and watched the Galentines Day episodes together on Rabbit. Matt also surprised me with a celebration dessert for my half birthday. 

18th- Saw Newsies the movie, Jeremy Jordan version, with Rachel, Nicole, Matt and Rachel’s boyfriend in New York City. TONS of fangirling was involved! 

19th- Met up with Audrey in Trumbull. We hung out for the first time since meeting at SPN con 2016. We went to the Trumbull Mall and went to a trampoline park.

26th- Yearly  Watch the Oscars with Matt. 

March 2017

8th- Saw Amaranthe’s headlining tour in NYC with Matt and Veronica. I also fell in love with their openers, Citizen Zero and Smash into Pieces. Totally worth also going on a Wednesday and then going to work the next day :P

18th- Saw Amelie with Nicole. Phillipa Soo and Adam Chanler Berat were awesome! We also bought last minute tickets to see Phantom of the Opera at the box office and got box seats! It was super spontaneous and fun! 

23rd-Saw Enter Shikari’s headlining tour in NYC with Veronica and Matt. My 3rd or 4th time seeing Enter Shikari live, they’re always fun and crazy too :P

25th- FINALLY saw HAMILTON after  buying tickets nine and a half months in advance. Taran Killam was hysterical as King George.  Matt and I went to Ninja NY after to eat, it had been a long time since we had been there too. 

April 2017: 

1st- Saw Chanticleer in Westport with Matt :)

7th-10th- Went to Boston with Alec, Nishant and Matt. Nishant got his first pedicure with me. Nishant and I drove the boat on the duck tour. Had a blast at the Edward Kennedy Museum. Stayed in an Air B and B for the first time( 2 actually), sleepover!

10th- Won the Lottery to see In Transit for the second time. I found out at the stagedoor that they had announced closing for that weekend before our show started :(

12th- Met Christian for the first time when we went to see Your Name together with Matt, Keela and Brendan. 

15th- Spontaneous trip to New Jersey with Matt. We had really good food on the water front and played mini golf. 

19th- Won the Lottery to see Groundhog Day, even though Andy Karl was not in it. Fell in love with the show. Worth going on a weeknight :P

21st- Had a Voice Lesson with Eliana from Leave’s Eyes before their show. Nishant cooked us a meal in his apartment, so proud of him. Saw Sabaton’s headlining tour with Leave’s Eyes opening for them. 

29th- Saw Charlie and the Chocolate Factory on Broadway with Matt. 

May 2017

1st- Reunited with my cousin Bobby years later and met his wife and daughter for the first time. 

9th- Saw my favorite band The Classic Crime after waiting a REALLY long time to see them live again. I also took a very nice and deserved personal day.

15th- Broadway Bakes at Schmackary’s and saw Jeremy Jordan preform in a Classic Stage Company Benefit Song at Lincoln Center. 

21st- My Baby Sister Graduates from College!

25th-29th-  Visited Ashley in Brockport, NY with Abby for Memorial Day weekend. Went in the Lockport Caves where they had a boat ride inside! Ashley got her first professional pedicure with me. We went go karting, garbage plates, dave and busters, RIC roc fest, etc.

June 2017

4th- Did my second annual Kidney Walk with Matt in Hamden, CT. Nishant came to CT for dinner later that night. 

6th- Finally Met Donny for the first time. Me, Christian, Matt and Donny had dinner at Bar Taco. I met my spirit animal :)

9th-11th- Anniversary trip to Shelton, CT. Went to Pride in the Park in Norwalk. We rode the waterslide in our hotel so much! We found a really cool sports arcade where we played mini golf and arcade games. Also the Tony’s were this weekend too!

25th- NYC Gay Pride Parade with Amy. And did a workshop with JEREMY JORDAN where he told me that “You have a very nice voice”. I later had dinner with my Uncle. 

July 2017

2nd- I took Audrey to her first broadway show, Chicago, Then we saw The Station Breaks in NYC. 

11th- Lost my sweet, sweet guinea pig Coco Bean Marie :(

14th-15th- Returned to the stage in Perfect the Cabaret at the Carriage House Theatre. :)

23rd- Saw Korn, Stone Sour and Skillet in Hartford, CT with Matt, Brendan and Shute. 

25th- Saw Citizen Zero’s first headlining tour in NYC with Matt.

27th- Matt and our first wedding of the year. Jay’s wedding in NJ. Stayed over with Jamel and Pat, sleepover and a gorgeous hotel. We had a BLAST at this wedding!

28th- Explored NJ with Matt, Jamel and Pat. 

29th- Vocal Few’s Living Room Tour in  NYC with Matt. 

August 2017:

3rd- Broadway in Bryant Park with Nicole. Found a Sing a long in Byrant Park after. 

5th- GISHWHES starts, my first time!

10th- Broadway in Bryant Park with Nicole and Danielle. Sing a long in Bryant Park. Saw Bandstand. 

11th- Breaking Bad RV Bar with Matt in Brooklyn.

13th- My 27th Birthday. Went to Medieval Times for the first time to celebrate my birthday with Matt, Veronica, Christian, Pat and Kate. Had a fucking blast!

19th-20th- Flame Con in NYC, first time. I also went to 54 below for the first time to see Jeremy Jordan preform! He recognized me too, oh boy:P 

22nd-26th- Summer Vacation to Seattle with Matt for our first time. Went to a Cat Cafe for the first time. I also did a yoga class in the cat cafe. Went to the top of the space needle. Museum of Pop Culture. Amazon Bookstore. Saw Idina Menzel in concert. Kerry Park. Went to the first Starbucks store ever. Rode on a monorail. Gum Wall. Museum of Science where we saw Terracotta Warriors. 

September 2017:

1st- Saw Flamingos at the Maritime Aquarium with Matt and Brendan

9th- The Play that Goes Wrong with Matt followed by Groundhog Day, which i won the lottery for again. I finally got to see Andy Karl in Groundhog Day.

17th- Saw Miss Saigon with Nicole. I couldn’t stop sobbing at this show. Fell in love with Eva Noblezada and I got to meet her too after.

21st-24th- SUPERNATURAL CON in New Jersey, FINALLY! Met Thor the Impala. Met Ruth and got to ask her a question at her panel. Got a shower cap from Ruth and a hug after. Won the lottery to ask Jared and Jensen a question. Got to ask Misha a question when he did a last minute panel. Saw Jensen sing at Saturday Night Special. 

29th- Alec visits! Went to the View taping with him and Nishant. Met Adam Scott after he taped on the show. Epica/Lacuna Coil show with Alec, Matt and Veronica.

30th- Walked the Brooklyn Bridge at night with Alec and Nishant. went to the MET museum with Alec. 

October 2017:

1st- saw  A Bronx Tale with Alec and Nishant

7th- New York Comic Con with Nii, Matt and Christian. Met Robbie Thompson :)

8th- Elsie Fest with Nicole. Got a beautiful photo with Darren Criss before.

14th- Scott’s birthday celebration with Rebecca and Kate. Went to see Rags at the Goodspeed Opera House in East Haddam, CT.

19th-22nd- Gilmore Girls Fan Festival in Kent, CT. Audrey also came over the day before to watch the SPN episode with me. Got a Jet Tub in my room. stress tap dancing class. Todd Lowe preformed with his guitar for us. Coffee Monologues. Face timed with Lauren Graham.

26th- Rocky Horror at Avon Theatre with Matt and Rob.

28th- Brian and Ashley’s wedding in Long island, City. Our hotel had a beautiful rooftop view. 

November 2017:

2nd- Saw A Perfect Circle with Matt at Barclays Center in Brooklyn

3rd- Tom and Stephanie’s wedding in Long Island.

10th- Finally saw Evanescence with Veronica and Matt in Brooklyn.

18th- Anime NYC with Nii, Matt, Brendan, Christian, Pat and Jamel. First year ever. cosplayed as L from Death Note. Sleepover at an Air B and B in Weehawken, NJ.

22nd- Macy’s Balloons with Nicole. Saw Kinky Boots with OBC members Stark Sands and Billy Porter.

29th- Saw Anastasia with Matt, Rob and Ashley

December 2017:

1st- Chanticleer in NYC with Matt

2nd- Trumbull Mall, Matching Leggings, Milkcraft and Wonderland at Roseville with Chris and Audrey :) First time hanging out with Chris outside of Con!

10th- NYC- Museum of Natural History with Nicole and Matt to see Mummies! Beautiful with Nicole to see Kara Lindsay. James Barbour’s Christmas Show with Kate at Birdland.

17th- First Annual Darien Carols by Candlelight. Such a magical and special time.

23rd- NYC Tourist Adventure with Matt to see Bryant Park, Rockefellar Tree, Saint Patrick’s Cathedral and Saxs Fifth Avenue. 

24th- Brunch at Greenwich Hyatt with Matt and his Mom. Christmas house adventure in the hail to a Milford house and Wonderland at Roseville.

31st- Shute’s house to celebrate with Pat and Matt before they move away :(

Summing everything up:

I traveled to:

1.) Providence, Rhode Island

2.) Boston, Massachusetts

3.) New Jersey- various towns

4.) Brockport, NY/Rochester, NY

5.) Seattle, Washington

6.) Kent, CT

7.) Shelton, CT

Shows I worked on:

1.) Baby at DAC

2.) Sylvia at DAC

3.) Perfect Cabaret with Lipstick Project

Shows I saw on Broadway:

1.) Waitress

2.) Aladdin(second time)

3.) Dear Evan Hansen

4.) Amelie

5.) Phantom of the Opera(not the first time)

6.) In Transit(second time)

7.) Groundhog Day(saw it twice!)

8.) Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

9.) Chicago(second time)

10.) Bandstand

11.) The Play that Goes Wrong

12.) Miss Saigon

13.) A Bronx Tale

14.) Anastasia

15.) Beautiful

16.) Kinky Boots(second time)

Concerts I saw: 1.) Lacey Sturm/Stitched up Heart- NYC

2.) Amaranthe/Citizen Zero- NYC

3.) Enter Shikari- NYC

4.) Chanticleer(saw them twice!)- NYC and Westport, CT

5.) Sabaton/Leave’s Eyes- NYC

6.) The Classic Crime- Hamden, CT

7.) The Station Breaks- NYC

8.) Stone Sour, Skillet and Korn- Hartford, CT

9.) Citizen Zero- NYC

10.) Vocal Few- NYC

11.) Idina Menzel- Washington

12.) Epica/Lacuna Coil- NYC

13.) Elsie Fest- NYC

14.) A Perfect Circle- Brooklyn, NY

15.) Evanesence- Brooklyn, NY

I went to 3 weddings: Jay, Tom and Stephanie’s and Ashley and Brian’s

Conventions I went to:

1.) Broadway Con- January 2017 in NYC

2.) Flame Con- August 2017 in NYC

3.) Supernatural Con- September 2017 in NJ

4.) New York Comic Con October 2017

5.) Gilmore Girls Fan Festival October 2017

6.) Anime NYC November 2017

Here’s to 2018 I cannot wait! :)