#red is so dramatic in the greyscale | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

skylarstark4826 · 2 months ago

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Hobie Brown doesn’t believe in consistency. Hobie Brown doesn’t believe in labels.

So, if it came to light that there was a…little quirk about him that consistently labelled certain little “moods” he gets into, one could understand how he’d be hesitant to believe it.

Or maybe he’s just in denial.

“The fuck you mean I change colors?” He asked incredulously, his whole body shifting to a sort of greyscale before Miles’ eyes.

“That! You just did it!” Miles’ hands flailed a bit before he gripped his sleeves, and he laughed a bit at the look Hobie gave him. “When you get upset, you turn grey.”

“I can’t be grey already, mate, come off it.” Hobie chuckled, running his fingers along his hairline before returning his hand to the neck of his guitar. “Though, between the Spider thing and you lot on my arse all the time, the stress could be gettin’ me.”

Miles scoffed, offended. “You know that’s not what I meant! And since when do we stress you—” He paused, realization lighting his face as Hobie’s scheme turned to several tones of pink. “You’re messing with me!”

“Oh?” His voice remained steady, but his eyes were distinctly smug. “I felt like that was pretty serious just now. Full sincerity.”

“No, because you always turn pink when you’re being a goof.”

He froze, fingers catching a sour note on his guitar. Miles flinched a little when just his eyes moved to stare at him. That side-eye alone could level mountains.

…But he was still pink.

Miles eyed him warily, crossing his arms. “I know you’re just trying to get in my head.”

Hobie laughed quietly, and his color returned to…normal? Red Spider suit; black vest; and his skin was actually a human color. Yeah, this could be considered normal. “Hate to break it to you, mate; but it’s very easy to get into your head. You get in there so much on your own; you start leaving the door open.”

Miles pouted, but he inched closer to Hobie’s side and rested his head on his shoulder.

Hobie smiled a bit more, plucking a few notes. “Bit of a fuss-bucket, but we like that about you. ‘S cute.” He leaned in turn, letting his head rest on top of Miles’ as he hummed softly.

“Someone has to worry about you and Gwen, especially when you start scheming together. Or not checking in for days; remember the talk we had about that?”

“Gotta unplug sometimes, my guy.” His color shifted again, flipping between grey and another muted palette. “You…you worry about us?”

“Always. You guys both bottle everything up and then act like drinking from it will make it go away.”

Hobie winced, but he couldn’t help another little laugh. “That’s a half decent line, innit? I…You worry about me, huh?” He murmured, his hands going a little tense before he suddenly looked away and cursed under his breath.

Miles glanced at him curiously as he flickered again, between those muted tones and his bright pink. “Are you—”

“Shut up.” Hobie ran his thumb under his eye, a smile stuck on his face as his body settled into the pink palette.

“Hobie!” Miles said just a bit teasingly, hugging the taller boy’s arm and rocking against him. “You’re all pink~ You turn pink when you’re happy, is that it?”

“I don’t turn colors; what are you on about?!” He let himself rock with Miles, reaching to ruffle his hair with his free hand. “An’ I’m not happy; I’m miserable. You’re out here tormenting me.” He carried on dramatically, slipping his arms around Miles and pulling him into his side as he started to lean over. “Makin’ me cry and all. Terrible.”

“Aw, poor thing.” Miles snorted, trying to get his hands between them again. “Maybe I should cheer you up?” He got one hand just under Hobie’s vest, squeezing his side a few times.

“Oi, watch it!” Hobie yelped, giggles starting to slip out as he tried to lean into Miles. “You’re tickling!”

“You’re ticklish?! That’s crazy, man. Unbelievable.” Miles smirked, bringing both hands to scribble up his sides. “That sounds like a cute thing, and you hate being cute.”

“Miles, you—No!” Hobie let out a cackle as Miles grabbed his waist, electricity rushing through his midriff under his touch. Sparks of color flashed across his body, and he tried to shove Miles’ shoulder as his form settled back to pink.

Actually… Now that Miles really thought about it…

“Have you always turned pink when you get tickled?” He asked softly, letting his thumb press circles on Hobie’s hipbone and brushing stray tears off of his face with his free hand.

Hobie slapped lightly at Miles’ face as he giggled. “Stop saying that…” He half whined, lifting the neck of his guitar as he let his head fall onto Miles’ again.

“How do you keep denying it?!” He pulled his hands back, rummaging in his pockets for his cell phone. “Here, c’mere.” He giggled as Hobie slipped his arm around his waist and hooked his chin over his shoulder, and Miles snapped a picture of them without really looking.

“Okay, there, l—What. The. Fuck?!” Miles stared in disbelief at the photo.

Hobie snorted, laughing snidely as his body turned a few neon colors before going pink again. “Oi, that mouth, love.”

“There’s no way—Hobie!” Miles squeaked as Hobie suddenly pressed a flurry of kisses against his neck and cheek, his phone slipping out of his hand as he laughed.

Sure enough, the photo only showed the pair of them: with Hobie’s red Spider Suit, black vest, and dark brown skin.

-------------

Gwen had made the fatal mistake of letting Hobie bring her to a pub in his dimension. She had also made the mistake of letting him drag her to three more after that. They were cuddled up in the hammock Hobie had strung up on one side of his bedroom, rocking slowly as the canal shifted the boat.

“Not really sure why you thought you could beat Karl on that third one, lovey.” Hobie purred, fingers carding through Gwen’s hair as her head rested on his chest. “How many times have you told me you don’t even like whiskey?”

“Not my fault you keep shitty whiskey…” She murmured into his shirt. “’N I needed to shut him up.”

“Forgot the sauce makes you a rude li’l bitch, didn’t I?” Hobie smirked down at her as she set her chin on his chest and tried to glare at him.

“Why are you so okay anyway?” She griped. “You knocked back half a bottle of vodka right at the start.”

“Little lesson for the pub crawl: Ol’ Roy waters down the vodka bottles he serves out. Keeps the good shit for himself. Takes a bribe and a half to get so much as a shot out of him, but you need that buzz to choke down some of the food Mary’ll serve ya. Bet you didn’t even notice how fast we booked when they tried to give you those burger things; they’re awful, and you hadn’t even—Aw, love…”

Gwen’s eyes had fallen closed, and she smiled softly as she snoozed quietly against him. “’M listening… Promise.”

“Sure you are.” He pulled her head to rest against him again, tracing gently along the side of her face. “Kinda important, though, you do need to eat more if you’re gonna drink that much. The healing thing ’ll fix ya quicker, but still. That second place? We hit it just for those chicken strips, okay? The cheap wine was a bonus. And I’m still mad you let Riri take that root beer float from the Winchester, man; you’ve gotta try it.”

“I just try not to eat dairy when I have a stomachache…” She yawned for a moment, stretching her arms and hands like a kitten before loosely clutching at his shirt. “Bad things happen.”

“She said, shortly before getting into a drinking contest with a super soldier and keeling after three shots.”

“Hm? Oh, sorry; I got distracted by your cigarette breath. Run that by me again?”

Hobie barely stifled a laugh, ruffling her hair gently. “Okay. It was only, like, two.”

“Two per pub, more like.”

“Nah, it was not like—” He suddenly paused, thinking back to a few hours prior. “…Shite.”

Gwen chuckled sleepily, trailing off into a quiet snore.

Hobie huffed as he smirked, humming a tune and letting his fingers strum against her spine. He wasn’t entirely sure how long they stayed like that; the rocking of the hammock was good for melting away any semblance of focus. Suddenly, though, a thought jumped out of the remaining haze of alcohol to the front of his mind.

“Oi, Gwendy.” He murmured, dragging his nails more purposefully up and down her back.

She shifted slightly, a smile breaking her face as snickers slipped out. “Mmph… Not funny, Miles…” She grumbled, pushing softly at Hobie’s face.

“Ooh, I’ll try not to be offended at that one, love.” He sneered as she whined. He moved his hand to lightly tickle her ear as it turned bright red. “Remember you told me I could ask you one stupid question a day?”

“Seriously? Now?” She huffed, the pout audible in her voice.

“It’s still today, innit?” He kissed Gwen’s hand when it shoved the side of his face again. “Just the one, I promise.”

“Yeah, yeah…Go on.”

“So, um… Do I, like, change colors?”

Gwen was silent for a second before starting to giggle as she looked up at him. He could tell by her tone that she might still be a little buzzed. “What? Like a chameleon? Hell no!” She asked in disbelief.

“Heh, right?! God, I can’t believe I almost fell for that. Miles tried to get in my head that—”

“You change more like a fever dream.”

And, suddenly, his body flickered between normal and grey. “…What?”

“It’s like… Maybe a strobe light? No. It’s like flashing, but not quick, like…”

“I do not change colors!” He insisted, the greyscale settling in.

“Ack! Volume…”

“Sorry, just—” His palette was quickly muted, and he hugged Gwen close. “I’m pretty sure I would know if I was changing colors all the time, y’know? And you never said anything like that before.”

“I don’t go around questioning how people’s bodies work in other dimensions.” She shrugged, her head falling onto his chest again. “You want me to let you know every time I notice you breathing? I can hear your heartbeat; does that surprise—Oh, that’s really fast, actually.”

“Nah, nah, nah, don’t get distracted.” Hobie ruffled her hair again, his colors shifting brighter as she laughed softly. “Does—Does everyone do it? The gang and all?”

“Your gang here? I mean, yeah. I think it’s just your dimension’s thing. Changing colors with how you feel, I think.”

“Oh, you think now? Which is it?” He turned pink, unable to keep the smile off his face as she stretched groggily and let her hands fall onto his face again.

“Hey, you’re all different. I don’t keep track of all of you. I know most of your little patterns though, Cuddlebug.”

Hobie pouted, feeling his face heat up. “Don’t believe much in patterns…”

“Okay, but then how did I know you’d say that?” She cupped his face in her hands, thumbs drawing the smile along his cheekbones. “I can feel you blushing.”

“Pfft, yeah?” Hobie shifted between pinks and neons, taking hold of one of her wrists. “You wanna feel somethin’, eh?” He dragged the flat of his tongue up her palm, his piercing almost catching between her fingers when she shrieked and pulled away.

“Oh, my god, you fucking weirdo!” She accused, scrubbing her hand against his shirt as he laughed at her.

“I thought you’d see it coming, love~ I’m so easy to predict, apparently.” Hobie sneered, his colors still shifting despite lingering on pink.

“That’s not what I said, you big baby!” A few giggles snuck into her voice as she pushed herself up onto her knees, gripping her head for a moment and wincing.

“Easy there, Gwenny; watch your volume.” He taunted, lifting his hands and letting her brace herself against them. It quickly turned into her trying to shove his hands over his head, which he definitely didn’t just let her do without a fight. Definitely.

“You don’t believe in patterns; do you ever not speak bullshit?” She grumbled, letting go of his hands and crossing her arms.

“Gettin’ a little hostile, aren’t we?” He chuckled, crossing his own arms under his head as his colors flickered again. “I mean, here I am having an existential crisis, and you just want to leave me in the dark.”

“Yeah, you look so bothered by it.” She huffed and rested a hand under her chin. “You’re flipping between stuff, but…You light up when you’re happy; you start fading when you’re down; when you get upset, you turn grey. Actually, no, it’s like: You turn into some kind of newspaper collage. Like, literally, there are words on your face right now. I think they change depending on what’s bothering you…”

Hobie touched his face, finding himself distracted. “When do I turn pink?” He murmured, accidentally interrupting her going on about neon or something.

She snickered just a bit before she grinned brightly. “You turn pink when… God, it might be the best one. You turn pink when something makes you super happy. Happy like when cats purr; it’s your tail wag. You also turn pink when you’re planning pranks or goofing off with the band; it’s so great and—Wait. You said that Miles…” She paused suddenly, thinking for a second. “You do turn pink around Miles a lot, don’t you?! Hobie that’s so cute!”

Hobie groaned, letting his arm fall over his face.

“You turn pink when you blush sometimes too~” She poked his cheek, and a smile crept onto his face. “That’s the happy blush~!”

“Shut up…” He whined, a few giggles sneaking into his voice and getting amplified when Gwen’s fingers started crawling up his ribcage. “Gwen…”

“Is that my Gigglebug?” She asked teasingly, starting to scribble her fingers as her hands moved toward his armpits. “Oh, my god; did Miles find out you like getting tickled?! Is that what this is about?”

“Gwen, I do not—!” He started to insist, only to break into loud giggles when her hands shot up. “Gwendy, please!”

“Oh, yeah? Then why are you still pink?” She giggled a bit herself, bracing her knees around his legs as the hammock started to rock.

“I don’t change colors!”

“Okay, you’re just trying to do the contrarian thing. I love the commitment to the bit, but you are literally tickled pink right now.”

He lashed his hands out, hugging her tight and pulling her back down onto him. It didn’t help much; her fingers still found a bit of wiggle room against his upper ribs, but she rolled her eyes and chuckled.

“I hate you.” He murmured, the bright pink still lingering as he nuzzled into her shoulder.

“Hate you too, punk.” She teased, shifting slightly to kiss his mouth. “Ack! Yeah, that was definitely more than two cigarettes, Hobie.”

He snorted, his colors flickering for a moment as the hammock slowly stopped shaking, and Gwen chuckled and rested her head on his collarbone.

And then the hammock fell to the floor, and both of them laughed themselves hoarse.

------------

“What happened?” Miguel had asked worriedly when he first saw the look on Peter’s face. He had rushed Miguel across the facility and down to the infirmary before finally answering:

“There was an, uh, incident down in Equipment Development.” Peter explained a bit warily. “One of the kids got hurt. Kinda figured you’d want to make a proper report, and he’s not exactly being cooperative.”

Miguel had paused at that, realizing that there were very few Spiders in Spider Society that tended to be uncooperative. Definitely only one uncooperative kid. Sure enough, there was a single occupied bed in the infirmary, and Hobie sat as tense as if he were made of stone. His left forearm was wrapped tightly in bandages, his hand barely having the leeway to squeeze the grip strengthener in his hand.

“Hey, hey, Hobie Brown!” Peter called in a playful tone, clapping Hobie’s shoulder. “Lookin’, uh, a little blue there, eh?”

The muted blue shifted instantly to greyscale, and a distinctly not-human sounding hiss filled the air between them.

“Okay, not funny; got it!” Peter said quickly, stepping back and nudging Miguel forward. “Miguel, here, just needs t—”

“Fucking hell; what’d you bring him for, pops?!” He griped, flopping himself over onto his side and cringing as he adjusted his arm. His voice was groggy, still slightly affected by the heavy anesthetic that had been used on him.

Peter sighed softly, and Miguel rolled his eyes. “I brought him because your injury is, well, pretty bad. We need an incident report, y’know?”

“He said you were being obstinate about it.” Miguel chimed in, and Hobie’s color flickered as his head whipped around to glare at both of them. “He has half a point though. Tell me what happened.”

Hobie huffed, settling back to greyscale as he returned his focus to his hand exercise. “Ain’t nothin’ to write about.”

“Literally, the one thing I asked you for.” Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, if it were nothing, you wouldn’t be sulking in here.”

Instantly, Hobie put on his smirk, rolling onto his other side and looking at them with a shrug. “So, who’s sulking? I feel great.” His greyscale somehow grew cloudy, those dark blues melting in as if the newsprint had been dropped in paint. Neither Miguel nor Peter commented on it.

“I mean, Miguel definitely knows a thing or two about sulking; I’d tend to agree with him on this.” Peter tried another joke. Hobie chuckled, but he didn’t change.

“I don’t believe in agreements, then.” Hobie shrugged, smiling a bit tauntingly.

Miguel eyed him for a moment. “LYLA, pull up the footage from Equipment Development. And the medic’s record.”

Hobie’s face fell before he could catch it, and he sat up quick enough to make himself dizzy. “Oi, Tink—”

“You got it, boss!” LYLA’s voice was bright before she appeared on Miguel’s shoulder. “It is a little rough though.”

Miguel watched through a small holographic window as Hobie assisted Peni with repairing and recalibrating the blade weapons in her mech’s arms. He’d made some joke, and she laughed and punched his arm. They stepped back a bit—not nearly enough, and definitely not behind the designated safety glass—and she pressed a button on a remote. The saw blade spun, apparently picking up speed even after she pressed the button again. They moved warily, and Hobie’s eyes never leaving the mech as he put one arm in front of Peni, his color shifting to the harsh greyscale. It quickly turned into both arms snatching her off the floor when the saw shrieked and launched off of its gear. Miguel tore his eyes away before the impact, clamping his hand over his wrist before the scream could bury itself in his mind.

“Dios mio, kid…” He murmured, and Peter covered his mouth as he tried to find something to say.

Hobie stayed silent, wincing a little as he stared at his arm.

LYLA hummed sympathetically, petting the side of Miguel’s head. “Medics’ report says that the wound was pretty deep. Hobie’s one of the faster healers, but nerve damage is no joke. They want him on observation and physical therapy for a little while before he goes on another mission.”

“And why exactly did you need me to ‘get a report’, Blue?” Hobie asked gruffly. “Just rip me up and piss off, alright?”

“Excuse me?” Miguel might have stammered a bit.

Hobie’s hand clenched as his body stayed that dark grey, and he groaned irritably. “Just tell me how fucking stupid I am! How the irresponsible rebel let a poor li’l bird get hurt! I know what the others said!”

“Wait, wait; hold on.” Peter said slowly, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “Who said that about you?”

“Oh, like I keep a fucking catalogue of which Red-Suit Peter Parker is which. Come off it.”

Miguel pulled up the video again. Peni got hurt? And if she had gotten hurt, why didn’t Peter mention it? He braced himself as he let it run this time, and he spotted it: The moment of impact, as Hobie held her tight, the very edge of the blade nicked her forehead. And even then, he only realized it had happened when she kept wiping a dribble of blood away from her eye. She was the one to activate her watch and send out an alert, but a few Spiders had already come running as Hobie screamed.

He looked up, watching Hobie bicker with Peter for a few seconds. “Why do you think I’d call you stupid for this?” He asked, and both of them balked at his tone of voice. His eyes were soft, concerned; and his tone seemed a bit shaky.

Hobie cringed, the look on his face incredulous as his colors flickered. “You’re asking me that after last year, huh? We’re only supposed to save some people sometimes, yeah?”

Miguel sighed. “I haven’t forgotten. But don’t try to put words in my mouth about this. I’m not going to scold you for probably saving your friend’s life.”

Hobie rolled his eyes, biting his lip on some comment, surely.

Peter’s hand returned to Hobie’s shoulder, squeezing firmly. “Hobie, no one—No one—should even have the nerve to tell you that you were wrong here. Lab accidents just happen. Peni is safe; no one’s dead; HQ isn’t on fire; I don’t see any sentient saw-based super villains, and you’re not even missing that hand.”

Hobie huffed softly toward the end, remaining mostly stone-faced despite his color shifting brighter.

“Just know you’re amazing, Spider-Man.” Peter said finally, patting Hobie’s back.

A shock of neon flickered through Hobie’s palette, and he let a soft chuckle slip out.

“Oh, that’s what gets a smile out of you, really?”

Hobie lightly shoved Peter’s arm with his good hand. “Yeah, right, pops. You know you ain’t that funny. Lemme go back to my sulking; I’m so good at it.” He let himself fall onto his back, draping his arm across his face and sighing sadly.

And flecks of pink bloomed across his normal colors. Peter gave a look of exaggerated offense, crossing his arms and looking back at Miguel.

Miguel let out a fraction of a chuckle. “Didn’t think you were the type to doubt yourself this much, Spider-Punk.”

“Sorry, Hook, I like to think I’m multifaceted. Full a’ surprises and all.”

He blinked at the nickname, letting a smirk creep onto his face and resting his hands on his hips. “Well, if you can’t pull yourself up out of this little rut, I suppose we’ll have to help you—” He gave a light tap to Peter’s shoulder and winked as they made eye contact. “—And the method might not be so delicate.

“Pfft… Don’t know what I believe less: You thinking I want your help or you thinking I’d need you to be delica—!” His voice was caught in a yelp as one of Miguel’s hands suddenly squeezed one side of his ribcage. As he started to flail, Peter fired a bit of webbing that stuck his bandaged arm to the wall.

“If you really want some commentary, you should probably keep that arm immobilized for a bit.” Peter taunted, leaning closer to scribble gently at Hobie’s other side.

“Oi, hey!” He griped, giggles starting to slip out of him as his free hand pawed Miguel’s arm. “Fuck off; that’s not funny!” He curled over onto his side, pinning Peter’s hand under his weight. It didn’t stop him scribbling his fingers at all, but Hobie seemed determined not to let him have that hand back.

“It’s a little funny.” Miguel shrugged as he sat on the bed as well. He set his left hand firmly on Hobie’s shoulder, flexing the fingers on his right to get them primed. “You called me Hook earlier, didn’t you? I wonder why.” He said it playfully, as if he didn’t actually know, and he dragged his claws gingerly against the back of Hobie’s t-shirt.

Hobie’s legs kicked out as a shriek escaped him, his laughter jumping quickly to cackles as bright pink tones covered his body.

Peter chuckled as he watched them, squeezing Hobie’s side softly until he got the opportunity to pull free when the kid suddenly writhed. “Must be really funny if you’re laughing this much.” He teased, sneaking a few pokes across his stomach. “Hobie ‘Spider-Punk’ Brown stuck in a giggle fit from the evil backscratcher~!”

“Pops!” He laughed, his free hand making a grab for Peter’s wrist again. Miguel, completely undeterred—and maybe a little shocked by it—pulled Hobie to lie flat on his back, and he let his claws scribble softly all across the kid’s stomach. Hobie covered his face, giggling brightly as he seemed to make an effort to keep still.

“Aw, the lone wolf still kicks for tummy scratches.” Peter smirked, leaning on Miguel’s arm and tickling along Hobie’s ribs. “Definitely something Miguel knows about.”

“You are terrible.” Miguel chuckled, shaking his head and sneaking scribbles toward Hobie’s sides.

“You’re both terrible!” Hobie barked out, twisting a bit harder than he meant to and shouting suddenly. “Ack, shit!” Bright red lightning-like bolts flashed along Hobie’s arm as his body flickered between the pink and newsprint palettes.

Peter flailed to remove the webbing from the injured arm, not that there was anything he could do beside watch Hobie ride out the sting of pain. “I am so sorry…” He stammered, suddenly panicked and rambling while Hobie’s voice came out a bit ragged:

“M’fine, m’fine, mate, really.” He insisted, flexing his fingers as best he could and letting out a sigh as the pink tones started to reappear. His eyes fell on Miguel, and when he smirked, Miguel realized he’d been holding his breath.

“You’re fine?” Miguel asked, pushing himself to stand back up.

“As I can be.” Hobie shrugged, grinning harder to cover the wince. “You two gonna stop bothering the invalids now?” His bright pink was muddied by the muted blue, though it flickered between the two.

Peter sighed and shook his head with a weary smile, patting Hobie’s knee as he got up.

Miguel crossed his arms. “Not just yet. Have you told your little crew about this?”

Realization flashed across Hobie’s face, and grey text etched itself into his skin as he tried to push himself up. “Shit, I need to get home, I—”

Miguel grabbed his shoulder before he could accidentally put his weight on the wrong arm. “We can arrange that. I meant: Have you told Gwen and Miles? Or Pavitr?”

For as tall as he was, Hobie seemed to shrink at the idea alone.

“Hobie…” Peter scolded without scolding him.

Hobie pulled a pillow over the side of his head, groaning in frustration. “Ugh, look, okay? I don’t want them worrying over me. I don’t de—” He bit his tongue and paused, the color draining away from him— “They’re busy and all, and I’ll be fine. I begged the doctor not to say anything to you, but Peni had already run off. Then Pops showed up, so, yeah, maybe I was a bit pissed off.”

Both men glanced at each other. Some parts of Spiderman really are always the same.

“They care about you, you know.” Miguel said softly, and Hobie cringed himself into a smaller form. “They love you.”

His hand clenched tighter on the pillow, and bits of the newsprint highlighted itself in pink while others crossed themselves out or tried to become more prominent.

It was sort of an unspoken rule in Spider Society not to read the words that would flash across Hobie’s body, or at the very least, not to comment or draw attention to them. He rarely got emotional enough for them to be legible anyway, but most Spiders could respect the idea of staying out of someone’s head.

But Hobie doesn’t change colors. So, if Miguel’s hand covered up the words “I don’t deserve them” when he pressed his palm to Hobie’s back, it was a coincidence.

“If you stay here to heal up, they’ll notice you missing.” Miguel caught a glimpse of something and glanced away. “If you try to sneak out before you’re healed up, they’ll notice when you can’t use your hand properly. Tell them.”

“…Fine.”

“Promise you’ll do it.”

His colors darkened a bit. “Promise…”

Miguel pat his shoulder firmly, finally stepping back. “And stay behind the safety glass next time. That’s why it’s there.”

Hobie chuckled softly, letting out a quiet sigh as Miguel and Peter made their way out of the infirmary.

“LYLA, let the medics know that Hobie might need another round of painkillers.” Miguel said once they were definitely out of earshot.

She appeared on his shoulder again, a clipboard in her hands. “Already done, boss!”

“By the way, give me an estimate on the kid’s recovery. What do you think?”

She flipped through papers on the board, kicking her feet casually. “Well, based on previous known injuries, and the medic’s report; adding in physical therapy time: I’d say he’ll be mission-ready by next Friday. Probably the Monday after to be 100% normal. Just estimating; you know he’d probably say otherwise.”

Miguel nodded. “Check in once in a while. If he hasn’t told anyone by Wednesday night, drop them a message first thing Thursday.”

Peter looked at him with a smirk, and Miguel rolled his eyes and chuckled.

---------------

“Hobart Brown!” That was Miles’ voice, and it was weighted by his Puerto Rican accent. He was pissed. His sneakers squeaked against the infirmary floor as he stomped up to Hobie’s bed.

Hobie nearly choked on the sip of water he’d taken, catching the grip strengthener when it slipped out of his hand and flickering through several different color palettes.

“Oi. We don’t pull the government names, you know that!” He had barely set his water bottle down when Miles cornered him against the headboard, eyes sharp with rage.

“Shut your punk ass up!” He barked suddenly, seeming to shock both of them for a second. Hobie rested his left hand on his chest, and he felt his face heating up.

“When the hell were you going to tell us that you got hurt?” He continued, crossing his arms as he glared.

Hobie winced, and dark blues settled in with flickers of pink. “I-I, well…When I stopped being hurt?”

“Hobie!” Miles ran his palms over his face, and absolutely none of the anger had drained from his eyes when he looked back up at him. “How could you do this?”

“I did check-ins; you can’t say I didn’t!”

“Yeah, and you lied to us!”

“I—I did not lie. I just…didn’t…”

“Lying by omission is lying, Hobie! And it’s a shitty thing to do to your partners!” His hands were moving a bit wildly before he clutched at his jacket sleeves for a moment. He sighed heavily and let them fall to his sides. Hesitating just a little, Hobie slowly took Miles’ hands into his own, and Miles stared at the remains of the newest scar on his forearm. Miles squeezed his hands tightly, closing his eyes and taking a breath.

“It’s just… After everything that happened, and out of everyone here…You were the one person I thought would never lie to me! Not about important stuff, at least...” He moved one hand to the side of Hobie’s face, brushing his thumb over the words he pretended not to see. “And you are so important! To me and Gwen and Pavitr and your band and so many people.”

In the midst of his speech, Hobie spotted Gwen creeping in with her hands behind her back, but that last part might have gotten to him a bit. The colors on his body fluctuated again, and he felt himself sinking into the hand cradling his face.

“Did you make him cry yet?” Gwen asked a bit playfully, approaching the bed and lightly nudging Miles with her elbow.

“Gwen…” Miles chided softly as brighter tones started to appear on Hobie’s body.

“He has such a way with words, Gwendy; I don’t know what to say.” Hobie leaned to rest his chin on Miles’ head, rubbing his thumbs across his knuckles.

“Yeah, yeah; I wasn’t done, by the way!” Miles pouted.

“I’m not stopping you; I just thought we should give our maybe still-injured partner his flowers.” As she spoke, she pulled a picture frame and a card from behind her back. Pressed inside of the frame was a bouquet of clearly handmade paper flowers wrapped around the neck of a familiar-looking paper guitar.

Hobie found himself staring, the breath stolen from his lungs as he took one corner of the frame in his hand. Gwen didn’t let go, and he was glad for it, because he felt like his hands would have been weak even without the injury.

“Miles made them for you last week—”

“Don’t tell him that!” Miles groaned, blushing as he tried to glare at her. He gestured to Hobie’s face and color with one hand while the other rested its palm on his own face. “See, he’s not going to listen now!”

Hobie had slipped his arm around Miles, pulling him in for a hug and kissing his wrist instead of trying to get him to move it. He had shifted almost completely to a bright pink, bits of text occasionally visible on him before shifting back to blurry lines.

Gwen snickered and sat on the bed, hugging Hobie’s arm. “You seemed pretty off in that first call. Guess we know why now, but he wanted to make you something to cheer you up.”

“I can admit it’s working.” Hobie nodded, smiling at Miles again. “It’s beautiful, love. You never stop amazin’, do ya?”

“Do not compliment me when I’m mad at you.” Miles huffed, his face softening as he looked up.

Hobie set the frame on the table beside the bed, holding the stand out with his pinkie and flexing his hand as he pulled it back. “’S the best time to compliment you though, innit? You care so much; feel so much; I admire that about you.”

Gwen nodded. “Plus, your accent slips out when you’re mad. It’s the cutest thing.”

“He sounds like his mom.”

Gwen slapped Hobie’s arm, barely stifling a snort. “Stop right now. You know his parents already don’t like me. Plus, don’t say that after I saw you blushing when he yelled at you.”

“I like a li’l double meaning, I’m afraid. And Man’s got a bark on him. Makes me weak.”

Miles looked between them, groaning. “Of course you would roll up like this. You two are practically the same.”

They glanced at each other; Hobie’s colors flickered darker, so Gwen was the one who said: “Sounds like you’ve got yourself a type.”

Miles glared at them, but the tiniest hint of a shy smile pulled his lips.

Hobie chuckled softly and shook his head. “Ey, come on, don’t lump her in with my bad decisions. If she had listened to me, she wouldn’t have told you about her broken arm from that Rhino mission.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot you were the one who said that first. Do you do this a lot?” She murmured, and suddenly both of them were eying Hobie with an edge of…judgment? Felt like judgment. Hobie cringed, looking away for a moment.

“I…” No, no, no. He’d jumped from the church wagon a long time ago; no need to start an impromptu confessional.

They love you.

Shit.

“Look, we’re Spiders, okay? We heal fast. I heal faster. When I get hurt, it’s nothing. Maybe I have to sit out for a while, but the crew can handle most work and shows.” The words were just falling out of him without much control, and he found himself squeezing Gwen’s sleeve when one of her hands traced lines on his arm. “My crew—My friends—I feel like they, uh… How the fuck…? T-There’s plenty of them. They go out, knock some heads and chill with each other. You two… You have whole cities to go home to; you’re flying solo when you’re on patrol. And I don’t want to be the one… distracting you?”

Somehow, stopping felt worse than the rambling. They were still staring at him, but their eyes were soft; both of them took hold of one of his hands.

“You wanna translate?” Miles asked, running the pads of his fingers along some older scars before pulling his hand up to kiss his knuckles.

Gwen shook her head, smiling. “Just means he loves us~” She said almost teasingly, lacing her fingers with his and hugging his arm again. “Loves us so much he thinks he’s not good enough.”

“Did I not just get through telling him how important he is to us?” Miles asked in disbelief. “Honestly, this guy.”

“Feelings are dumb like that.” Gwen shrugged, huddling closer to Hobie’s side. “That’s why I can’t stand them.”

“Tell me about it…” Hobie murmured, resting his head on top of hers. “I do care about you birds, though. Can’t really hide from that. Where’s Pavi, by the way?”

“He’s gonna call before he drops in; said he was making your favorite thing from his dimension, and he didn’t want to interrupt us.” Miles finally walked around the bed to properly cuddle up to Hobie’s other side.

“He also told us it was supposed to be a surprise,” Gwen giggled as Miles leered over at her, “but I think Miles was already raging.”

Hobie chuckled, grinning softly as he looked down at his hands. He flexed the fingers on his left hand; they felt a bit stiff, but they moved just fine. Well, fine enough for now; he needed to get his hands on his guitar.

“What are we thinking?” Gwen pressed a kiss just below Hobie’s shoulder.

“Oh, you can’t tell?” Hobie teased, his palette settling on the bright pink tones. “I thought you said I change colors.”

“Do you seriously still think we’re making that up?” Miles laughed lightly.

“Maybe~ What color do you see?”

“You’re pink, as usual, you dork.”

“Cool, so you probably know what I’m going to do next.” He slipped his arms around both of them, hugging them tight as he let his fingers scribble against their stomachs. “Or not? How were you both too slow?” He laughed, speaking over them as they fell into loud giggles and complaints.

And, okay, maybe he could admit that he would call this moment “pink”.

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swanmaids · 2 years ago

Note

OOOOH I HAVE SO MANY CHARACTERS FOR THE ASK GAME…SORRY YOU DONT HAVE TO DO ALL OF THEM

-mel (is this allowed ? can i put her here? pleaseeee)

-catelyn 😏

-turin ⚔️

- stannis 🧅

- findis as far as this can be applied to her

- turgon 🫶

YAYYY!!! OK PUTTING THIS UNDER A CUT LOL....

Ruindis

1: sexuality headcanon

Female misogynist bisexual woman. 2: otp

Of course her insane cringe marriage with Curufin, literally can't beat it. Though of course we're right about the Telchar threesome thing too. 3: brotp

Does she have friends? Well, there's Maz from Nogrod- if Curufin can have a bunch of interactions with dwarves to the point of learning khuzdul, so can she. And she and Celegorm are worsties forever. 4: notp

Don't really think she should be inflicted on anyone but Curufin 5: first headcanon that pops into my head

Had her head shaved for Nefarious Deeds in Nargothrond. 7: one way in which I relate to this character

Needs therapy so so bad 8: thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character

She is a walking cringe compilation. Getting disowned by her own son was probably the worst moment. 9: cinnamon roll or problematic fave?

The most problematic.

Catelyn

1: sexuality headcanon

I doubt she's ever thought about it so I'll say straight for now 2: otp

Mental breakdowns over Nedcat every single day...I found the good sweet heart in Ned... I can't do this I really can't 3: brotp

Brienne! Brienne trying to comfort her when she heard Bran and Rickon were dead was so ;__; 4: notp

PETYR GET AWAY FROM HER DIE JUST DIE 5: first headcanon that pops into my head

I KNOW SHE KISSED THAT SKULL! 6: favorite line from this character

Possibly "I have no sons but Robb" just for the awful nasty dramatic irony of it all. 7: one way in which I relate to this character

I've got red hair too uwu 8: thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character

When people make mean awful posts about her... 9: cinnamon roll or problematic fave?

Somewhere in between.

Turin

1: sexuality headcanon

Bisexual, it's pretty much canon right? 2: otp

His relationship with Beleg makes me want to throw up and claw my eyes....anglachel saying Beleg's name right before he died...I can't do this 3: brotp

Gwindor ;__; I can't think about them for too long because it makes my heart hurt. 4: notp

Androg. 5: first headcanon that pops into my head

Doesn't like having his hair touched by anyone other than Beleg and Nienor. 6: favorite line from this character

"RUN, MOCKER OF WOMEN!" 7: one way in which I relate to this character

his disordered personality 8: thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character

The Brandir killing was pretty bad :skull: 9: cinnamon roll or problematic fave?

The poorest, soggiest meow meow.

Stannis

1: sexuality headcanon

Deeply repressed gay man. 2: otp

Stavos truther thanks to you <33 3: brotp

Really interested in his weird relationship with Mel...what IS going on there. Oh well love her swag. And Shireen...don't kill Shireen...DON'T KILL!! 4: notp

Selyse and NO HATE ON HER OF COURSE IF SHE HAS TWO FANS THATS US....but they're both too repressed and gay. 5: first headcanon that pops into my head

That line from the sh*w about him contacting healers from all over the place when Shireen first contracted greyscale was actually valid and I accept it. 6: favorite line from this character

PEACH MONOLOGUE 7: one way in which I relate to this character

I'm a teeth grinder and I have permanent jaw pain from doing it lol 8: thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character

would be harder to name something that doesn't. Thinking of that iconic post that just listed all the ways he's an embarrasing flop 9: cinnamon roll or problematic fave?

Problematic fave, but not as problematic as he could be.

Findis

1: sexuality headcanon

Lesbian Findis truthers stand up? *three people stand up* 2: otp

Elemmire! Ok I KNOW Elemmire has pretty much nothing but a name and writing a sad song about the trees but she's an epic woman to me. 3: brotp

Finarfin :') I know she visited him in Tirion after the flight of the Noldor I just know it. Also always here for Indis and her children wholesome content. 5: first headcanon that pops into my head

Actually was ineligible for the throne due to her gender (though I think that's pretty much canon?). A big fan of performing arts, can often be found at the theatre/ ballet or equivalent. 6: favorite line from this character

:/ 7: one way in which I relate to this character

Eldest daughter 9: cinnamon roll or problematic fave?

Has done nothing wrong ever.

Turgon

Here!

#ask game #my hcs #my ocs #ruindis

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2024ardn632isobelchilberto · 2 months ago

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Week 7 - Experimenting/Draft Compositions

Composition 1:

For my first composition, I went for a classic horror film poster that contains multiple images from the film. It gives the image a sense of unease but also advertises the film's story. I feel like the knife contrasted with the washing machine image gives the washing machine image a sinister nature it would not have without it. I wanted the images to bleed into each other and feel as one composition as I'd seen from my research. I did this by using gradients and a soft-edged brush, which blended each image together (Not seamlessly, but it needs a lot of improvement). I tried to blend the images into the backdrop as well since I wanted a hard black backdrop, as seen in the posters I'd looked at. I do believe that I need to work on this finish, as the image still feels separated from the backdrop. Maybe I need to make the soft edge brush bigger. I decided to have the background image in greyscale while the washing machine image is in colour. I felt like it gave a cinematic effect as well as highlighted the importance of the bottom image as the first point of interest. I could add to this by adding something to the knife, and I also plan to add blood to the sheet in the laundry machine. I could make the entire image black and white with only the blood-red for extreme contrast.

Composition 2:

My second composition plays with contrasting images of my character. I wanted to play around with the image of her screaming as it felt like a classic horror movie poster image. I thought it could be fun to put something in her mouth as it is the main point of interest. Though it is a bit surreal and weird, I decided to put the image of her wielding the knife. So, her true intentions are literally coming out of her. For further editing, I tried to blend her hair into the black backdrop, but it needs some work as they still feel separate from each other. I also had to edit the knife image to have the same colour grading as the main image so they felt in the same plane. I do think this needs further editing as well as the way the two interact with each other as they still feel separate. Maybe some shadows and cleaner edges. I also changed the contrast to be more extreme to make the image more dramatic and theatrical. It could be done by playing around with this, such as increasing the shadows or adding a sepia hue to fit the vintage theme.

0 notes

roman--empyre · 3 years ago

Text

“Stunt Double” Pt. 4

How many ounces can one man smoke,

How many birds can tucan sam migrate?,

What is the difference between lung butter,

And the feel of crisp clean, listerine,/

So wash twice with the mouthwash,

Guard against plaque after the meal is consumed,

Trees are fresh with fruit for consumption,

So feast on your potential,/

Pucker up buttercup,

Get busy with no need to heads up seven up,

Downward dog,

Press the issue,/

Outside a brain fog,

Grasp at the box, rearrange your facial tissue,

One joint smoked,

After the third, youre mind blown,/

If your after beef, its a mis-steak,

Propel you around like an oscillating fan,

Pounds with me?, you are misinterpreting the brand,

Three point inspection, blood work, lethal injection,/

Three strikes youre out, lethal injection,

One homer bat swing and your out your bling,

The percentage increased to red and you get tied up for the rings,

Of gold,/

So drink down your aspirations,

Or outsource your labor in affirmations,

That alter your frame,

Greyscale so you can see good for evil and know the same,/

So put some black and white back drops with a red curtain for dramatic effect,

There will always be another placeholder so respect or reject,

There are two types of people,

One is misunderstood and the other is unequal,/

~Holographic Locust

#writerscreed #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #poetry #roman--empyre

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brokenjardaantech · 4 years ago

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only me, for you

written for LatexKaktus.

prompt: ‘Please let 800 be nearly killed by 60, 900 storming into the cyberlife tower, saving 800 and saying "no one is killing him but me" and actually kills 800, the end, thx’

tw: major character death

pairing: rk1700

also on ao3

----

Connor knows he is dying.

He supposes he should be thankful that the other him is a dramatic son of a bitch, because he knows that the most efficient way to end this is for his counterpart to put a bullet between his brows or into his thirium pump regulator, but right now, crawling on the floor while bleeding out from the holes on his chassis, at least there is a chance for him to survive; if he can reach the other Connor and grab onto him somewhere, anywhere - he will win.

A bang. A force knocking his shoulder against the ground once more. More biocomponents are damaged, but his self-diagnosis programme isn't working anymore from insufficient thirium. He will shut down soon. He needs to reach the other him.

Another bang. He drops down again before realising that although the bang is a gunshot, it wasn't aimed at him and he sustained no additional damage whatsoever. From his limited vision due to his eyes failing and his position on the floor, he manages to see the other Connor's gun falling onto the ground with a clank, then followed by the gentle thud when his knees impact against the floor, the sound somehow echoing in the large storage room more than that of metal against metal. Connor looks up, sees his counterpart's hand reach for the gaping, bleeding hole where his thirium pump regulator should be; his expression of shock, his wide eyes, the red of the spinning LED on his temple. The other him is dying too.

A soft hiss. A soft clink of something light dropping onto the floor, reminding him of the sound his coin makes when he used to pass it between his hands in superhuman speed or when he spun it on the tips of his fingers. There are no footsteps, but he can feel the vibration of the ground through his arms, and when the stranger - the one who shot his only hope - emerges into his field of view, he nearly shuts down then and there from sheer shock and dwindling processing power. rA9, he is so tired.

'No one is killing him but me,' the android with Connor's face says, except his words are not directed towards Connor himself; it is towards his counterpart, the one who kidnapped Hank, the one who shot the human despite Connor letting go of the android he was trying to deviate. Through the greyscale of his sight, he notices that there is at least one difference between himself and the new android: the latter's eyes seem to be of a lighter shade.

He rolls onto his back to preserve what mere thirium he still has in his body and watches the new android pick up the gun from the floor, takes his time to line up a shot, and buries another bullet on the other Connor's forehead. Connor's counterpart's LED spins once, twice, and becomes a dark circle on his temple.

The new android then turns towards him. He kneels down slowly, placing a hand so large and warm on Connor's face that he nearly weeps and closes his eyes from the distraction the touch provides from the constant warning signs and the emptiness he is feeling; but of course he doesn't because he knows that he would never open his eyes again if he had closed them, and he still needs to see this through. He promised Markus. He promised his people at least that much. He hears the other android deactivates the skin on his hand, so he closes his eyes and deactivates his on his cheek. At least someone is with him during his last moments alive. Human. Free.

He smiles.

RK900 feels the exact moment his predecessor shuts down, how their minds suddenly disconnect from each other, how there is no information to be retrieved from the other side, how Connor's sudden absence shatters the red wall in front of him and breaks the grid and instructions that were once all he knew, his purpose. Images flash in front of his eyes, of the dead human lying on the floor a few metres away, of his predecessor choosing lives over missions, of the rusty cargo freighter full of deviants, of the merciless of the humans after them.

After people like RK900.

Once, he had a mission; once, he had a purpose; once, he knew what he was for. Now, with three bodies sprawled around him - three lives lost so easily and casually - he wonders if it was necessary. Wonders if he could have saved at least his predecessor who died for the deviants' cause and with their minds as one. He thought Connor wasn't necessary in the grand scheme of things, since deviating the hundreds of thousands of androids in this warehouse requires only one functional RK unit, but now, after their minds joined for the first and last time in their lives, it is as if someone is squeezing his thirium pump.

Regret.

But there is still a revolution out there depending on the help he can bring, his people's fate weighing more on him than Markus now that the RK200 has chosen peace which is certainly being met with violence from the humans' side, so he walks towards the nearest android and places his skinless hand on their shoulder, urging silently for them to wake up.

And they do. With RK900 at the helm, they flood out of the warehouse like a wave passing through a slit, spreading out all over the city and overwhelming the defences humans set up to exterminate them, but despite their victory, despite the glorious moment when they realise that humans are finally listening, despite the celebration all around him, all he has on his mind is the blank eyes of the android with his own face buried in the cold, empty warehouse deep in the earth with CyberLife Tower as his grave.

#rk1700 #dbh connor #dbh rk900 #dbh connor 60 #detroit: become human #tw: major character death

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pakuchibake · 3 years ago

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idk how small of a subset shawol w synesthesia are but personally ill never get over stone heart bc she’s greyscale/bw the whole time w dramatic lighting in the first part & little moving metallic synth shapes later but when the horns come in at the coda theres suddenly an element of red & its so fitting w the album cover it is one of the most satisfying coincidences ive ever come across

#like i want to know if anything dramatic happens for other people at that part!#taemin #i need to learn how to animate this shit

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sugar-kisser · 5 years ago

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You’re My Reason « Kang Yeosang (RW)

original warnings: none word count: 3210

You pull out your keycard to let you into the gated dorm community, and the gate automatically shuts behind you. You head towards your dormitory, the moon well into the sky. You pull out your phone to check the time- 11:23PM. It’s ridiculous that you’re getting back from a class this late, but can you blame astronomy? I mean you could of gone and taken geology or chemistry, but you fascination with the stars got the better hold of you when signing up for the spring semester classes a few months ago. Lucky for you this is the last time you’ll be arriving home so late since summer break is 2 weeks away. You just have to finish classes this week, take finals next week, and you’re home free for three months.

You walk into one of the nine dormitory buildings, smile at the two other students at the front desk before rounding the corner, and walk up three flights of stairs to get to the level your dorm room is on. You pass by the art studio but walk back to the door when you notice the lights inside are still on. You look through the windowed door to find five canvas’s surrounding a brown haired boy who is working away at each canvas at the same time. You break into a warm smile recognizing the artist painting the night away.

You open the door, lightly knocking on it twice getting the boy’s attention. He also instantly greets you with a warm smile.

“Yeosang, it’s late,” you laugh opening the door wider for you to stand in the doorway.

“I know,” Yeosang awkwardly laughs probably realizing how late it actually is since you’re back from your astronomy class, “but I need to finish this for the presentation tomorrow.”

“You still haven’t finished the final?” You gasp, eyes widening. Yeosang is one of the last students to ever do any of his work last minute, especially his art work. “We’ve had all semester to think and work on them.”

“I know,” Yeosang scratches the back of his head, “I had so many ideas but none of them felt good enough. But this is going to be it. I only really thought of the idea a few hours ago,” Yeosang sighs, “I’ll most likely be up all night doing it at this rate.”

“I’ve got faith in you,” you encourage him, “everything you do turns out good. Just don’t push yourself over the edge. You still also have until one in the afternoon to finish it as well.”

“It’s sweet that you care for me, Y/N,” Yeosang slightly blushes looking down at the floor, “I only hope you’re taking care of yourself as well.”

“I’m trying,” you answer him as you slightly nod your head, “I’ll leave you be now. Don’t stay up too late.”

“I’ll try not to,” Yeosang laughs looking back up at you one last time before you walk fully out of the room and the close closes behind you. You walk down the rest of the hallway to your dorm room and twist your key in the lock and push open the door. All the lights off indicates you’re roommate isn’t here and you quickly assume she’s spending the night at her boyfriends. You flip on a light and find a pink sticky note on the back of the door telling you exactly your thoughts. You toss your bag next to your desk and then change into a hoodie and sweats knowing you were going to turn down the temperature of your room as soon as you are ready to go to bed. You lose yourself in thought as you begin making yourself tea.

You met Yeosang at the beginning of the semester when you accidentally spilt paint all over his clothes when you bumped into him. The poor quiet boy was so embarrassed, and you felt so bad that you took his paint and quickly threw it on your clothes. He was then just petrified that you would go and embarrass yourself with him. But the two of you ended up laughing at how stupid you both looked. That’s how the two of you initially bonded, and then you began working at a station next to his in class and befriended him. Yeosang is extremely quiet which shocks everyone because you’re a loud happy person who can mingle with just about anyone. You found an anchor with Yeosang to keep you grounded, and to Yeosang you were a bright color of life brought into his greyscale. Polar opposites but you guys attract better than most, and the two of you trusted each other more than others you’ve known longer.

You look down at the two cups of tea you absentmindedly made since you and your roommate usual drink it before bed. You can’t find it in yourself to drink two mugs, but a lightbulb quickly pops into your head. You leave your mug on your desk and leave your room. You head back towards the art studio and knock on the door before entering.

“I thought you were going to bed?” Yeosang asks rather surprised to see you walking into the studio.

“I, uh, accidentally made two teas. My roommate is also not here. So I thought I’d bring it to you,” you explain holding out the mug for him to take. He accepts the mug and sets it on a stool next him after taking a small sip.

“It’s really good,” Yeosang compliments.

“Thank you,” you smiles brightly before standing on the tips of your toes to see over the large canvas’s, “so what are you painting?”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Yeosang taps your nose twice, “no spoilers. You have to be surprised tomorrow.”

“But you always show me your work,” You pout out your bottom lip hoping it would give him to cave in as it does on most things.

“Nope,” Yeosang smiles and shakes his head, “you have to wait.”

“Who knew you could be so cold?” You sarcastically and dramatically retort as you cast a hand over your heart.

“You haven’t even shown me your project!” Yeosang counters as he laughs at your dramatic scene play.

“Touché,” you smirk pointing at the boy only causing the two of you to break out into laugher, “well I’m off to bed. It’s been a long day. Don’t stay up too late.. Night Yeosang.” You brush your hair back before making your way to the door. You turn a wave one last time at the boy.

“Good night Y/N,” Yeosang waves back at you, smiling at he returns back to his paintings. You look away from him and exit the room, pulling the door to close behind you. You head back to your room and enter. You close your door and lock it. You move over to your desk and look over the five colors of tissue paper before picking up the yellow one. You carefully cut small pieces of the yellow thin paper and fold them all and glue pieces to other pieces to make a flower. You grab a green metal wire and wrap it around the bottom of the flower before going over to your master piece and adding it in. You smile at the almost complete project; you only have to add one more thing to it but you have to do it tomorrow. You eventually turn off you small ceiling light and curl up under your covers. You fall asleep quickly with only one thing on your mind- what could Yeosang be painting?

Yeosang wipes his forehead with the back of his head as he looks over the five different canvas’s. Each one covered with sloppy paint coats, strokes, and blotches, but that’s his intention. Usually Yeosang likes to have organization and perfection to each of his paintings, pristine and clean pictures… but something prompted him to go outside his comfort zone. Through the mess of colors and random brush strokes and blotches, you can make out a face, and when you put the five canvas’s together they create a certain someone’s face.

Yeosang smiles in triumph. He picks up his smallest tipped brush, dipping it into a gold paint and signs his name in the corner of each canvas to claim his work. He picks up his phone and the home screen lights up- 6:49AM.

“Oh, Y/N’s going to be mad if she hears about this,” Yeosang slightly chuckles. He begins to clean up his mess he’s made while waiting for his canvas’s to finish drying.

“It’s now or never,” Yeosang mumbles as he runs the paintbrushes under the water in the sink.

——

“Y/N! You’re up,” your professor calls you name. You pop your head up and look over at him. Had everyone already gone? You had asked to go later because Yeosang still hasn’t shown up to class and you wanted to wait for him to be here to present. You sigh and stand up. You pull a semi-large sculpture from the side of the room to the center front.

Two large lungs made from wire to look like a cages are almost the same height as you. You wanted to make it dramatic and swallowing in comparison next to you. In each of the lung pieces you have different colored and sized flowers that go from top to bottom. The lungs looked like their fully and ready to burst, they look suffocating. Just like how you are feeling all of a sudden.

“So what do we have here? Why did you chose this?” You professor looks up from his papers at you.

“Well, my project represen-“ You stop mid of you sentence when the door opens revealing a tired and stressed Yeosang hurrying in with five canvas’s under his arms.

“Mr. Kang, you are late and rudely interrupting Ms. Y/L/N,” you professor scolds. Yeosang quickly and quietly apologizes. You smile as he finally takes his seat next to yours and looks up at your project. He breaks into awe, impressed with your project. He only hopes he isn’t too late. His alarm hadn’t gone off when he needed to wake up for the class.

“I decided to base my project off of how I was doing this school year. Each flower represents a day. The left lung represents the first semester while the right lung represents this semester. Each color has a meaning. The blue represents worry, the red represents anxiety, the yellow represents over thinking, the orange represents stress, and the purple represents depression. Each day I decided how I was feeling the most and made the prettiest flower I could and placed it in the lung. The size represents how much it consumed my day. So the larger the flower, the more time I dealt with said thing,” you explain.

“So I notice that in the left lung there is a lot of large purple flowers, but in the second lung there are only very few little purple ones” you professor points out.

“That’s because I’ve found something that makes me happy,” you tell him, “it’s not easy to overcome depression. I still have it, but it’s not as overpowering as other things I deal with.” Your professor nods his head and jots down a few notes on to your grading rubric.

“One last question,” he starts, “did you add a flower today?”

“I actually did,” you tell him, “this one is a little hidden, plus it’s really small.” You reach into the wires and pull out a small pure white flower.

“You didn’t mention what white represents,” you professor comments.

“I don’t need to,” you tell him, “everyone knows that white either represents hope or freedom… today it represents both.”

“Thank you Ms. Y/L/N,” you professor nods his head while jotting down his last couple notes, “you may sit down. Mr. Kang, you’re up.” You push your sculpture that hangs off a thin bar pole thats on a rolling platform off to the side where you originally brought it from. You and Yeosang essentially trade seats and he sets up his canvas’s carefully, hiding the overall piece from the class and professor.

Yeosang looks over it once again to make sure it’s perfect before taking a deep breath. He carefully turns around the canvas’s all together on the stand they are on and your eye’s widen in shock. Through the mess of the painting is suppose to be, which surprises you more, you can easily make out your features. Yeosang painted you. You lean on the tall table in front of you and cover your mouth with your hand to hide you giant smile, but your rosy cheeks give you away.

“Why did you chose to do this as your project?” You professor asks, ready to jot down notes and grade Yeosang’s explanation.

“Well,” Yeosang starts before taking a deep breath. He looks over at you, and although he can’t see your smile he can see your eyes crinkled in the corners. “For the longest time I didn’t know what to paint. This is the first time, in a long time, that I’ve gotten an artist block. We are required to show our best work for this assignment, but I treat all of my assignments like that. I always want to present my best work.”

“So are you trying to tell me that this is equal to all your assignments?” The older man asks, eyes almost glaring over the rim of his glasses at Yeosang.

“No. I consider this one of my top pieces,” Yeosang answers directly, “I got my idea last minute, and I was a tad hesitant about it because I knew I would be stepping out of my comfort zone. I also would be doing something I haven’t done since I was a child… you know where you paint outside the lines, and it’s messy. But I took a leap of faith and decided to do it. I don’t always take a leap of faith. I’m scared that I’m not going to make it and slightly scared that I’ll be disappointed. Which has lead me to missing out on a bunch of things. But this semester that’s kind of changed. I’ve been doing things I wouldn’t normal go do, and I wanted to express that in my art.”

“I’m glad you’ve decided to do something out of your comfort zone. It’s always good to explore everything you can as an artist to see things from new perspectives or even different angles,” you professor explains after jotting down his finally notes of Yeosang’s grading rubric, “with that, everyone’s grades will be updated and finalized tonight. I’m very impressed with everyone’s projects. Also thank you for having a great semester. I’ll hopefully see you guys around on campus if not in another class. You are dismissed.” Everyone immediately begins packing up their bags and grabbing their projects and heading out of the studio as quickly as they can, even the professor. You on the other hand take your time packing your bag and waiting for everyone to clear out so you can take your project back to your dorm without it potentially breaking. Yeosang also takes his time, knowing he’s in no big rush.

“The painting was beautiful,” you tell Yeosang as you walk up to the front where he’s carefully laying each canvas on top of the other, “no one’s ever painted me before.”

“Thank you,” Yeosang quietly answers, his nerves suddenly building up. He’s still not ready to face you… to explain why he chose to paint you.

“Am I not something you’d normally do? The things I drag you to? Did you really not want to go to them?” You ask as you recall back on his explanation of his piece. Yeosang looks up at you in shock.

“Going out and being social and going new places and just doing things in general is something I don’t normally do,” Yeosang starts, “at first I didn’t want to go out. I wanted to stay in my dorm or in the art studio and just paint or sketch.” Yeosang takes a couple steps towards you and grabs both your hands with his. “But I look forward to everyday when you come tracking me down to go somewhere. I love spending time with you, whether it’s after class or a three am adventure. I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“Really?” You ask, your voice low because of the built up of tears in your eyes and a small smile on your lips.

“I mean every word,” Yeosang answers as he takes one of his hands away from yours and pats your head, his hand slowly falling till it rests on the side of you face and you slightly lean into his touch.

“Yeosang,” you call quietly, “you know you’re the reason the purple flowers went away, right?” Yeosang peers down at you as he listens and he gently smiles hearing your confession. He moves his hand and cups your cheek, moving your hair aside. He quickly leans in and leaves a light kiss on your lips. Yeosang pulls away and breaks out into a cheesy little smile which causes you to do the same.

“How about I take you for an adventure?” Yeosang asks.

“Is it to our favorite coffee shop we head to every week after this class?” You ask, already knowing his answer.

“Wow, so smart,” Yeosang laughs, “but I promise when finals are over I’ll take you out.”

“Sounds perfect,” you smile. Yeosang grabs his bag as well as his five painting and you grab your sculpture and rolling it out of the room as Yeosang holds the door open.

“We should probably take these back to our dorms first,” Yeosang states as you finally get out of the classroom with your project.

“Sounds even better,” you laugh as you begin to push your project through the hallway, Yeosang directly by your side. The two of you manage to get to your dorms to drop off your project, but not without avoiding your roommate who gushes over the fact you two have finally realized your feelings and that she was soooooo tired of the two of you being oblivious to it. Yeosang takes your hand as the two of you walk back out into campus and head towards your favorite coffee shop which thankfully today isn’t completely full and the two of you plan to grab a table after ordering your drinks. The two of you wait quietly in line as you both figure out what you plan to order, but out of the blue Yeosang, who is still holding your hand, pulls it to his lips and kisses your knuckles. The action causes you to blush faintly but it doesn’t go unnoticed by Yeosang who lightly chuckles and teases you about it. But that doesn’t stop you from throwing him off guard and planting a small kiss to his cheek as he leans down just close enough for you to do it. It completely shuts him up and he blushes as well. You smile in triumph and feel that small little white flower from earlier bloom even bigger.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez imagine #ateez drabbles #ateez scenarios #ateez kang yeosang #ateez yeosang #kang yeosang #kpop imagines #ateez x atiny #ateez x reader #college au #artist au

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cap-ironman · 5 years ago

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2020 Cap-Iron Man Reverse Bang: Super Stylish

EVENT INFO | ARTISTS’ GUIDELINES | WRITERS’ GUIDELINES | FAQ

The submission period for this year’s Cap-Iron Man Reverse Bang has been open for just over a week, and art submissions are already coming in — it’s awesome to see so much interest in the event! But there’s still a month to go until the draft submission deadline, so you have plenty of time to think about what you’d like to create for your 2020 RBB entry.

You may be hard at work trying to brainstorm an idea, or maybe you’re at the stage of experimenting or considering different art styles?

Let's consider our options!

Whether you’re going for traditional media (acrylic, pencil, water colour, gouache, inks, pastels, crayons) or digital (where the tools and brushes are nigh infinite!), there are plenty of styles to pick from. Realistic painting not your cup of tea? Isn't it lucky half our fandom is made of comics and cartoons!

Look at this exaggerated anatomy and bold shading from Earth's Mightiest Heroes...

...or the classic colour blocking from the old 616 comics!

Also, aren't Young’s Baby Avengers the absolute cutest?

Colouring isn't really your cuppa? Monochromatic art can be just as — if not more — effective to set the scene!

Take a look at the dramatic lighting from this digitally painted panel, where red overrides all other colours…

...or consider the dynamic stance and evocative expressions rendered by felts in this greyscale picture.

Black and white can be a powerful visual tool, with great eye-catching effects, like you can see in this Invincible Iron Man cover variant.

And there are plenty more options out there! Whatever you end up choosing, it will be received with all the appreciation it deserves and more! All you need to remember and work towards is telling the story you want to tell while enjoying the creative journey.

The Cap-Iron Man Reverse Bang is an occasion for artists in the cap-ironman community to create new Steve/Ton or Steve&Tony works and see them come to life through the words of a writer! It’s a fun challenge that inspires fantastic new fanworks and gives creators a chance to collaborate and inspire each other.

We look forward to receiving all your wonderful entries in our inbox! Remember that if you have any questions not covered by the Guidelines or FAQ for the RBB (linked at the top of this post) you can contact us via email at [email protected], or through Tumblr DMs and Asks.

Your 2020 Cap-IM RBB mods will be happy to help in any way we can!

#stevetony #stony #superhusbands #capimrbb #capimrbb2020 #capimevents #inspiration post

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interdimensionalspaceworm · 5 years ago

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alright lads, I almost forgot I was supposed to make this.

it’s the markiplier lore color post that I have made because I think way too much about these things

so let’s start at the very beginning (I've heard it’s a very good place to start)

(putting a thingy here because it’s probably going to be quite long; also, sorry for all the parentheses and the pretentiously complicated language)

Prologue

So at the beginning, the early egos, like Wilf and (not-yet-canon) Dark didn’t really have color schemes to them. It was just Mark doing weird shit (and it kinda still is, but I digress). Even in the cyndago days, Wilf didn’t really have consistency in his outfit choices, so beyond just pink there isn’t really a whole lot we can say about his color scheme at this point. And it isn’t really until the interview skits that he gained his classic outfit, with lots of pink, some tan, some white et cetera. We’ve all seen it, we all love it, and I think that these colors were picked just to look neat, to go well with the situation and with Wilf's flamboyant nature. All this starts to get more interesting, however, when we get to the lore proper.

The Lore™

I’d just like to say before I start that most of the things I will point out in this section are likely just coincidental. For example, Damien and Celine's association with blue and red respectively was most likely included in The Lore because those colors are most commonly associated with Dark's aura (although, in ADWM, his aura includes other colors, and in AHWM, it is overwhelmingly red, but that’s another post entirely). However, as the recovering game theory addict that I am, I enjoy making connections where none usually exist, and I've been thinking about this stuff for way too long. So enjoy! This means nothing!

I’m going to start with Actor, since he happens to be the center of all the lore, which I’m sure he’d be very happy to know. His color is red (any red, really, though he does share the color with his wife)- the robe he died in was red, he wears a red version of Damien's outfit in DAMIEN, and even in his appearances in ADWM and AHWM he has a red tie while he’s wearing his suit. So it’s safe to say that he is often associated with this color, and for good reason, of course: red is the color of energy, emotion, and anger, and Actor displays all of these (he is an actor, after all) in spades. But I believe that this choice of color is significant in another way.

Several characters in The Lore have red, or a shade of red, associated with them. Actor uses it, Celine uses it, Colonel uses it (the handkerchief around his neck, his suspenders) and, as Wilf, he will later be very strongly associated with pink (side note: yes, I know it’s more of a magenta-ish pink than a light red, but bear with me). What does this mean? What do these specific characters have in common? Then it struck me.

In a word (or thirteen): all of these characters are known to be associated with the House Entity (I really wish we had a better name for it). And, by saying associated, I mean manipulated by it in different ways. The intensity of the red that they are associated with corresponds directly to the depth of their corruption: Actor's red is traditionally depicted as the darkest of the three, and as we all know, his connection to the Entity is the deepest, having been influenced into betraying his friends and gaining a myopic, narcissistic vision of the world due to it. Celine's red is still very saturated: as one-half-to-one-third of Dark, a corrupted version of her personality exists in him, and even on her own she has enough knowledge of the occult and connection with the Entity to create a time loop in which to house her brother. William is less straightforward: he was also, in some interpretations of WKM, influenced by the Entity as a child and/or while having his affair with Celine, hence the red he’s associated with as Colonel, but why the pink?

First, imagine a laundry machine (please,,,, for the love of all that’s holy,,,, stay with me here). Today, you’re washing your white clothes. But there’s something you forgot: there’s a fucking red sock. In your valentino white clothes. Now all your nice clothes are fucking red. You try to wash it out as best you can, but the best you can do is make your formerly PERFECTLY OK white dress shirt pink. Fucking pink. You can try all you want, but you can never get rid of the traces that that red sock left behind. Wilf is the dress shirt in this scenario. He no longer uses red- the signal of corruption by the Entity- because he’s no longer connected with the Entity anymore. My theory is that, in going mad at the end of WKM, he somehow made his mind inhospitable to the Entity. His reality-altering powers stem from the Entity, most likely, and of course his mind was broken indirectly by it, but for the most part the Entity cannot possess him utterly like we see it do with Actor (for most, if not all, of the time we know him) and Celine (in that rather dramatic instance in WKM). He is free of its influence, but its traumatic power still hangs over him: the pink dress shirt stained by that long-gone red sock.

And so, as Wilford, William is associated with pink: traditionally the color of whimsy, and of love and compassion. Wilf has no lack of any of these: as we see in WMLW, he helps Abe out of his distress, and out of all the canon characters he is one of the few who actually seem to care about Y/N. And, of course, he’d never be complete without more than a bit of whimsy.

And then, finally, there’s Damien. He is associated, as we all know, with blue: the color of trust, confidence, and sincerity. This fits him well, clearly, and there’s not really too much to say about that: he is what he is.

As Dark, Damien and Celine's souls are twisted and their worst aspects brought to the forefront of their combined personality. This can also be seen in their color choices: red can be associated with anger, blue can be associated with coldness, and both these qualities can be seen in spades with Dark. It’s so fun when everything works out, huh?

To be honest, I could go on for ages about the use of color in all the other egos, the palette changing from greyscale to oversaturation and back in WMLW, and all kinds of other things. And I will. But not in this post. I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for ages and I hope y’all aren’t disappointed, but this is the product of like 5 whole minutes of thought, which is more than enough to tire me out. So I’m gonna end it here. Stay crazy, y’all!

#markiplier #wkm #markiplier cinematic universe #who killed markiplier

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undertaleartistshit · 4 years ago

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Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23186284/chapters/60573760#workskin

Aaand the next chapter of my fanfic is out! Btw, does anyone know how to put it under a cut? Cuz idk how 👀

____________

Chapter 2: Morning Meeting

The loud, repetitive beeping of the alarm shook Ink out of his slumber. He didn't dare open his eyes, his head felt too groggy and hazy to even think about properly waking up, however his alarm didn't fail its job of annoying him awake. Despite having no true emotions and having to rely on bottles of paint to feel, Ink made it day to day acting - almost - like a normal monster. He was happy, sassy, bright, he got annoyed *very* easily, and... he was forgetful. Was that an emotion? Ink didn't know, no one ever told him. No one explained exactly what feelings were to him. Since he FELT forgetful, he just assumed it was a feeling everyone got, just like happiness or sadness or whatever else.

Ink opened his eyes to a ceiling marbled silver and gold and walls filled with papers and ideas, sketches mostly. Color peeked through every few inches, giving the room an incomplete feeling and giving Ink the adequate motivation to get up. He hated incomplete things, hated the way it made his head ache and his spine tingle and his chest tighten. He switched the alarm off, wincing at the bright red colored numbers. 6:30. He slid his legs off the bed onto the hardwood floor, not bothering to make the bed. By his logic he was going to sleep in it again in a few hours and felt no reason to waste time on tidying it. Although it was quite contradictory to his hate of incompletion, Ink just didn't have the energy to care about the bed. It wasn't like magic or a drawing; sometimes it doesn't do what you want it to. Some days the fabric is just wrinkly, for example.

He stood up slowly, careful to not jostle his skull too much, and wove his way through the stacks of notebooks and papers and whatnot, careful not to knock anything over as he made his way to the door, the only think uncovered by paper. He took his sash off of the hanger set off to the side and made his way through the house to the living room. It was empty.

Ink was then hit with the memory of the previous night, realizing his mistake far to late.

Meanwhile, Blue was already awake in his tidy room, silently scribbling away ideas and plans at his large desk. He rarely needed sleep and he considered himself lucky, for the most part. He had only slept 3 hours the night before, but he didn't dare go to the kitchen or turn on any significant light source, in case Dream was awake. Dream was like an older and overprotective sibling, however Blue refrained from considering Dream a brother.

He wrote down idea after idea, answer after question, in beautiful cursive handwriting. He was almost done when a soft alarm went off in his pocket. He took out his rather modern phone, shutting off the buzzing immediately. He sighed softly, looking at the time. 6:30 already. Unlike the other Star Sanses and despite what people thought about Blue, he preferred to keep his phone on a dark setting and color scheme. In fact, most objects in his room where either a soft neutral color or a darker color. His eyes didn't burn that way.

He stood up, putting his pen down and pulling out a sweatshirt to wear instead of a tang top. It reminded him of his battle body. He never put it on anymore. He was pretty sure he burned it or at least tossed it. In the past. He shook his head, pulling the grey article of clothing over his skull and left the room soundlessly. He wasn't in the mood to get snapped at by either of his teammates, and no amount of them saving him could put him in the mood for that.

He stopped before going into the living room, taking a second to stop and self reflect. He was still riled up from being kidnapped just two days ago, plus last night's argument between Dream and Ink, and he needed some time to calm himself. He couldn't go into battle like this or even simply have a civilized discussion without his survival instincts kicking in. He had to tell Ink and Dream about it but he had no idea how the two would react. He wanted to put it off but if something happened than he would have no choice. Despite this, he decided to wait.

Blue casually strolled into the room, sitting down besides Ink on the couch, who seemed to be just... blah. "Mornin' Blue," Ink mumbled with a sour biting tone. "Good morning, Ink. Did you sleep well?" Blue inquired softly, keeping his naturally attention seeking voice low. Ink let out a 'hmpf', and let his head flop backwards. "I got sleep but there was no quality to it, if you understand what I mean." Blue didn't quite know what he meant, but he nodded believably anyways.

Dream suddenly walked into the room with a bright and happy pace. "Up and at 'em you two! We have things to do today." Ink groaned rather dramatically, and Blue sighed in frustration. Blue was generally a bright and happy person, but... today he was just so out of it. He was recovering, for Christ's sake. He wasn't happy about being kidnapped at all, and he had a lot on his mind lately.

But, being him, Blue reflected a bit on what the other two are dealing with. First off, they were immortal GODS who needed to protect and help the millions of AUs out in their Multiverse at any cost. That was already almost a good enough reason to spare them a lecture. And Blue could see why having an active mortal ally would be stressful to deal with, especially when going up against the Dark Sanses, who are by far the most dangerous beings out there. The two Gods had to watch their FRIEND get manhandled and get beaten within an inch of his life every single time they went out to fight. It must be hard on them. But Blue had to really wonder for a second. If they cared so much about him, why would they leave him to get kidnapped? The way it happened was quite stereotypical.

Before Blue could start becoming self conflicted, and start another argument within himself, a screeching ringing startled the three skeletons out of any security and peace they'd found in the last few minutes. Dream flinched harshly and wiped his head to the side and glared at the telephone with an intensity that could slice diamond. Blue had a deep blue bone club materialized in his hand in an instant, his stance tense and ready to strike at a moment's notice. Ink had his paintbrush in hand, his eyes already red, pointed and alert, his body language radiating an aura that could startle the most conditioned soldier.

But it was just a telephone call. After a few moments of just sitting there staring daggers and curses into the poor phone, Blue huffed and flopped back down on the couch with a soft thud and dissipated his club. Ink relaxed soon after, not dismissing his brush yet, and Dream grabbed the phone swiftly, not wasting another second. "Hello?... Uh, yes, we have plenty of time... Yes, we're all here toge..." Dream trailed off and his eyesockets widened, a glimmer of happiness dancing across his face. Blue and Ink looked curiously at their teammate, the two sensing either mischief or pure and utter relief and joy coming their way. Or maybe both.

"OHMYGOSHYESI'LLTELLTHEMASAP" Dream blurted, looking at Blue and Ink with a stupid wide grin. "Core found a lot of useful information about the concert thing. They said that they are actually pretty proud of their work!!" Ink cocked a bone brow in confusion and spoke with a cautious tone. "It's great they found that but... what do you mean that they're 'actually proud'? Core loves all the things that they help with."

Blue looked at the two skeletons with a tired glance. "Nevermind that Ink, make a portal already," Dream snapped and quivered with excitement. Ink rolled his eyes and and stood up with his brush, making a portal to Core. Core took a step into the room with a stack of notebooks, binders, and papers and smiled politely. "Nice to see you all again. I have some useful info."

The Star Sanses all smiled softly, except Dream, who was practically vibrating with pure euphoria. "Please sit down on the couch, Core!" Dream grinned as he ushered the monochrome seer to the couch. Dream wedged his way between Ink and Blue, hissing at the latter quietly to scoot. He patted the remaining space besides him for Core, who smiled brightly and laid their stuff out on the empty coffee table in front of them.

Blue blinked a bit, listening as Core started to explain and habitually ignoring Dream's rude gesture. It wasn't a full on conversation, so it was somewhat easier for Blue to follow. Everyone settled in, patiently listening. "So," Core began.

"I have gathered some information about the concert, and although it isn't much to go off of, it's enough to give an idea about how... well, in honesty how thought out this entire event is. First off, general stuff. The place is set in an empty AU, titled "\\\\\tale" and has 3 fixated portal ports, presumably for crowd control. It is accessible by every AU, which may be a problem with culture clash and whatnot. And the date and time is pretty straightforward, maybe they rely on people to translate timezones? We may need to do our part in sending out important points to others if that's the case. The music selection will mostly consist of EDM, house, alternative rock, electro, and remixes of all sorts of other things. Any more info is in these files here."

Ink interrupted quickly. "Uh, I've never heard of \\\\\tale. What is it?" Core hummed for a second, than reached towards a binder, flipping through organized pages filled with notes and a greyscale color spectrum. After a while, Core ran their finger across a line or two, their lips moving ever so slightly in sync. "Oh, it's just an empty copy. Nothing dangero-"

Ink coughed, and pushed away from the three on the couch, and puked putred black ink all over the light colored carpet. Blue made a somewhat frustrated, somewhat skeptical grunting sound, and raced to the closest closet to grab cleaning supplies before the ink stained the carpet. Well, badly, anyways. Dream rushed over to Ink, holding him up a bit while Core sped off to the kitchen with a pitiful "oh dear".

Core scurried back to the living room with a rag and a glass of water in tow. Blue waited until Ink was safely seated on the couch before he began cleaning the carpet vigorously, spraying anti-stain detergent onto the pale flooring, and not holding back with scrubbing. This almost reminded him of the honey-stained floors of his bro's... Blue resisted the urge to knock on his head to erase those past-thoughts out.

Ink rubbed his head, mumbling a soft apology. "Uh..." Ink started slowly. "What were we talking about again..?" Blue sighed, and muttered quiet annoyed curses to himself. Before anyone else could react, Ink glared at Blue, albeit hazily, and he growled defensively. "What's *your* problem..?" Blue glanced up at Ink with a blank expression. "Ink, I'm sorry, but the last few days have been a bit hard on me, and you and Dream as well. I didn't want to deal with your... uh... condition, so to speak on top of everything else."

Ink paused, his facial expression unreadable. Then, slowly but surely, it twisted into confusion. "What the heck happened? And you mean the puking thing right?" Blue sighed and inquired with a gentle but firm tone, balancing between patient and angry, "Do you remember ANYTHING about the concert?" Ink's eyes narrowed in suspicious perplexity, and he shook his head. Blue huffed, picking the cleaning supplies back up and placing them back where they belonged.

Dream sighed softly, putting his hand on the back of his fellow immortal. "Ink, I'll fill you in on what happened." Blue sat down in his spot, Core sitting down next to the former. Ink stared at Blue for a second, as Blue stared at nothingness with an exhausted expression. "Blue...?" Dream asked after noticing his teammates vacant air. Blue looked at the people on the couch with him, and slowly voiced his concern. "We need to work on Ink's memory." Ink looked somewhat offended, but before Blue could elaborate his reasoning, Ink blurted out in outrage.

"Yeah, you think I haven't tried?! I've tried taking notes, sending it on my phone, using connections to things or whatever!" Blue blinked at the outburst, surprised Ink got furious about such a thing. He wasn't exactly a self conscious person... maybe feelings from the fight with Dream last night were putting pressure on his already poor self control. "Well, uh... maybe there's something we haven't tried yet..?" Blue suggested. Blue felt rather helpless. Maybe he should have waited until Ink was filled in on the situation before pointing out the age-old nuisance that plagued his mind.

Ink scoffed, averting his eyes from Blue, with a shaky hiss. "Even if there were alternatives... I don't want to hear them right now. I. Don't. Care." Blue stiffened at the tone, that phrase always seemed to bring back memories after all. He took a deep breath, and-

"Ink, please calm yourself!" Dream begged. Blue blinked and nodded in agreement. "Please?" Ink glared at Blue and Dream. An eternity of silence and harsh tension passed. There was only hostility and anger in Ink's gaze. He was truly offended that Blue thought that it was an easy thing to fix.

Blue was... not in a good mindset. He wanted to smack Ink for not using his brain, he felt like crying or screaming. He wanted to snap at the others for not prioritizing such a huge problem that really needed to be fixed. He was so frustrated and stressed, and he was just so overwhelmed. He was sad and hurt that Ink turned on him so fast as well.

Dream and Core sat helplessly as Ink continued with his rant. "You know what? NO!" he screamed at Blue, grabbing his upper arm with a steely death grip. Dream gasped, reaching out to Ink to make him stop, but Ink pushed him back down. "Dude what the-" Blue panicked. It was too familiar. Too close. Too parental.

Core sat uselessly on the couch. They were worried out of their mind, as well as Dream, but they simply didn't know any of the skeletons, besides Ink, to do anything for them in the situation. If they said something, they were truly worried about the repercussions that would stem from Ink later on.

Blue struggled to get away from the Protector's angry grasp, his mind tittering between pure panic and a sense of normalcy. Ink dragged Blue to a back room. Dream sprinted after the two other skeletons before jumping and holding Ink in place. He could sense that all Ink wanted to do was to hurt Blue, and it made Dream *sick*. Blue released himself from Ink, running to his room before he had the chance to get caught again.

"ALL I WANTED TO TO WAS TALK TO HIM IN A SEPARATE ROOM!" Ink screamed at Dream and he tried to struggle out of his companion's grip. Dream held on tighter and said in a calming voice. "No, you didn't. You wanted to hurt him all because he wanted to get rid of your memory problem. He didn't know it would offend you." Ink still struggled, although too a much lesser degree. "C-c'mon Dream! That was a horrible time to bring it up though! Give me some credit here!" Dream squeezed tighter. "You don't deserve credit here, Inky. Calm down, please." Ink stopped struggling, and began to melt into the tight grip. "I... I'm so sorry..." he whispered. "You need to apologize to Blue, not me. But I forgive you anyways! And, uh, give Blue a minute to cool off before talking. He's probably really mad." Dream released his hug, and looked at Ink as Ink smiled. "Ok.."

The two walked back to the living room where Core was sitting. Dream was beginning to shake as he sat down on the couch, and Core noticed. "Dream..?" Core asked fearfully. "I'm fi... fine..." The sentence started out confident, but then Dream shivered and collapsed on Ink, who was beside him. Ink flinched, as he started to panic as well. "Uh??" Ink's confused voice rasped. "Oh. Uh. Dream probably passed out because of the abundance of negative emotions," Core commented calmly. "It would make sense after all."

Ink nodded, getting up after shrugging Dream off of his side onto the couch so that he was laying where Ink was formerly sitting. Core got off of the couch, lifting Dream's legs up and helped Ink shift Dream's unconscious form into a seemingly comfortable position. A blanket was draped over Dream, and the Guardian of Positivity's golden crown was removed and placed on the table.

Meanwhile, Blue laid on his bed, experiencing one of the worst panic attacks he's ever had. He was in the past, and the present and future paid him no mind.

~~~[]~~~

Hate, worry, apprehension, fear, anxiety, panic, frustration, anger, nervousness, sadness, and betrayal.

Nightmare's single resting eye opened from his slumber. He took a deep breath, relieved at the singular negative emotions coming from an unknown source. He stood from his simple bed, leaving and walking towards the kitchen, where his fa-... minions were eating breakfast.

"Mornin' Boss!" Cross grinned. "Good morning everyone," Nightmare greeted, walking to the coffee machine, by which Horror was leaning on the counter, his singular eyesight fixated on the filling pot. "What's gotten you up so early?" Horror inquired, slowly. He was never a quick speaker, and the gang respected that. "You're one to talk," Killer snickered. Everyone responded with various levels of laughter and chuckles. "Well," Nightmare began. "I woke up because there was a huge influx of negative emotions from some random unknown place. And I have a feeling that if we go there, we can really fuck up whoever has those feeling, y'know?"

Dust grinned creepily. "Soo you're saying this isn't a slaughter, but a torture?" Nightmare chuckled, "That's one way of putting it. I have the coordinates so we can go right after breakfast. I've never seen code like it before though, we should be careful." All the Sanses agreed, as they began to cook and sip on their preferred drinks.

Little do they know...

#undertale #blue #sans #underswap #dreamtale #a #a litte big dance #ink #ink sans #nightmare sans #dust #killer #horror #cross

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inkribbon796 · 5 years ago

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A Misplaced Music Box

EGOTOBER 2019: DAY 19

Prompt: Music

Word Count: 1066

Summary: One day of the year Light gather to celebrate their birthdays. It is a morning of tranquility and peace. This year Remus decides he wants in. It’s his birthday too.

While not their actual date of birth, four of the Sides celebrated their birthday on the same day. Logan coined it as their Creation Day. Logan, Roman, and Patton were all outside their favorite restaurant, sitting at a table. The three of them getting some much appreciated rest. After the last couple years, Logan enforced a strict budget because Roman could summon the most extravagant things while Logan and Patton were forced to buy them.

So there was a small bag of gifts under the table so they could eat their food and enjoy the little time off from heroics, while they had the chance. Pleasant music was playing over the speakers.

Finally the gifts came out. Patton got a couple new animal-themed pajama onesies. Roman got a rather-well done fake crown and a model of himself fighting a dragon. While Logan got a new journal and a small glass ball with a white galaxy inside of it.

Patton just about squealed, stars lit up in his eyes, hugging his pajamas to him. “I love it!”

Logan held up the glass ball to examine it. “This is a very thoughtful gift, thank you Roman.”

“Ahh, thanks Specs,” Roman sat up a little more and was practically glowing at the praise he was getting.

“Hello, brother,” Remus smiled as he looked at Roman, practically sliding over to them.

“Look, this is my one day I get a break, and you come stomping around,” Roman grumbled, glaring at his identical twin brother. “You disgusting, walking trash compactor.”

Nearby patrons were just staring at Remus in trepidation. Someone was already on their phone, looking at all the Sides nervously.

“I can’t wish my only brother a happy birthday?” Remus groaned, putting the back of his wrist to his forehead in a typically bout of over dramatics that was expected from the twins at this point.

“I have a gift for you,” Remus held out a red package wrapped in a white and gold bow. Roman, however, was suspicious. “For all of you.”

All three of the Light Sides looked at Remus in suspicion, but Roman took it. Roman summoned a gift box. “Here you go,” Roman decided.

Excited, Remus opened up the box and took out a marionette doll of himself. He gasped, “Oh brother you do love me.”

“Don’t hug me, you gremlin!” Roman spat, kicking Remus back when he tried to hug him. “You can’t fool me again.”

Logan was already opening the gift, his usual M.O around Remus was to ignore him as much as possible. “I trust this isn’t going to explode.”

“No, what?” Remus looked shocked and surprised at Logan’s comment. “I would never, and I am appalled you would think so poorly of me.”

The logical Side gave Remus a withering stare, and then opened it carefully. Once it was opened, Logan stared at it in shock and surprise. Carefully he pulled out an old musical box. It looked like a fairy tale book and when it opened it had a scene of a little girl and boy circling a mountain. In the Hall of the Mountain King playing slowly. Everything about the music box looked ancient.

Patton and Logan looked at it in awe, even Roman was impressed.

“Where did you find this?” Logan asked. “It doesn’t seem like your usual fare. Did you find this at an antique store?”

Remus smiled and began laughing to himself, “Yeah something like that.”

Instantly the three of them got suspicious.

The Dark Side only stood there with a huge smile on his face, “You’re going to wanna hide that.”

Before any of them could ask the music the restaurant had began to glitch and distort.

“Well, happy birthday,” Remus smiled and ran off like the hounds of Hell were after him. Logan pocketed the music box, he was already ushering people inside the restaurant so there was a wall between them and whatever was coming their way.

Just as they got the last person inside, Anti was thrown through one of the restaurant tables, the color draining from the area.

“Hand it over and I won’t find a way to skin your code!” Dark hissed as the Sides guarded the restaurant, already looking around for any people that could be caught in the crossfire.

“I told you, ye fookin geriatric dinosaur, I don’t have yer damn box!” Anti lunged at Dark, a knife in hand.

Logan stepped forward and bravely tried not to look like he knew they could murder him on the spot..

Both the super villains turned to glare at him.

“Get lost nerd!” Anti’s voice was glitching.

“Dark, are you missing a music box by any chance,” Logan adjusted his glasses and took a couple steps closer, Roman was terrified and trying to pull Logan back.

Shadows enveloped both Logan and Roman, making Roman try to protectively move in front of Logan.

Logan nudged Roman to the side, and held up the music box. “This was found on the rooftop earlier. If this is yours you can have it back.”

Dark walked over and took it back, “Apologizes, Anti.”

“Bout time,” Anti glared. “I’m gunna torch yer office.”

Anti disappeared into the Void and Dark groaned.

Finally the greyscale villain pulled the shadows away and looked at the two of them. “Names, I’ll know if you’re lying.”

“Logan and Roman Sanders,” Logan dared.

If Dark recognized them, he didn’t show it. “I’ll let you two live then.”

With that Dark disappeared into the Void, and the entire area itself seemed to sigh in relief as color slowly bled back in. Logan just grabbed his chest and sank into the closet chair.

“That was harrowing,” Logan gasped.

“Lo!” Patton ran out and put his hands on top of Logan’s, starting to use his powers to calm him down. “Ro, get over here.”

Patton began talking about absolute nonsense, normally Logan would have rolled his eyes but with his frayed nerves he needed something to calm himself down.

Roman started adding into the conversation, vowing to take revenge on Remus for putting them all in danger. Logan, meanwhile, turned his thoughts to the old music box and why Dark would be so connected to it.

“We should pay Remus a visit and figure out how he got his hands on that box,” Logan decided. Patton and Roman looking uneasy but eventually agreed.

#Egotober 2019 #Superhero AU #Masks and Maladies #Thomas Sanders #Jacksepticeye #Markiplier #Roman Sanders #Logan Sanders #Patton Sanders #Remus Sanders #Antisepticeye #Darkiplier #Grand Theft Remus #Remus causing problems #Birthday post for the Light Sides

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thesinglesjukebox · 6 years ago

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youtube

SKY FERREIRA - DOWNHILL LULLABY

[7.44]

Future internet historians, this is where "abused-girl pop" was coined.

Ashley Bardhan: A "downhill lullaby" is romantic. It's a sweet song to take you lower. It's being ashamed of a bruise you have, but still taking a photo so you remember what it looked like. The chorus of strings that open this track come out like a whimper, they want you to hear them wailing in the daylight so when the drums start to echo, you're ready to descend. Sky Ferreira's first words, sounding red raw in her throat, are "You leave me open when you hit me / No one can hear me." How can the violins cry so prettily when there's violence in the lyrics? How can a love be so tender when there's violence in the relationship? Sometimes I self-deprecatingly call the music I listen to "abused-girl pop," but the feeling of being in a toxic or abusive relationship is so specific and so rarely captured in media in a way that feels honest, that maybe that is the reason I gravitate towards certain music more than others. This song is sexy, and it scares me. Sky sings -- more like prophecies -- about being ripped open, blue lips, "bludgeoned affection" ... and how perfect it is. Towards the end, she sounds like a ghost with layers of vocals both purring and keening about "going downhill." And then the song is over. When it's over, you still remember how it felt. [10]

Ian Mathers: I guess putting this in the new Twin Peaks would have been too on the nose? [8]

Katherine St Asaph: Funny how between Night Time, My Time and this, Sky Ferreira's covered both the alt-rock and the trip-hop halves of the Buffy soundtrack. Between the Ex:Re single and this, 2019 is shaping up to be a phenomenal year for reminders of all the female singer-songwriters I grew up with and rarely saw anyone else rate. "Downhill Lullaby," too, reminds me of many of them: Kym Brown on Pygmalion, Carina Round on "Sit Tight," recently Meg Myers on pretty much anything and more generally 1999-2001. [8]

Claire Biddles: "Downhill Lullaby" is serious, convincing, adult melodrama: luxury strings and a wrecked-out voice; the strange dignity in signing all your options over to chance, or erratic substances, or someone (anyone) else. Like masking the taste of bile with vodka tonics, it's born of nihilistic cliché; but it's still real, and still mortifyingly seductive. [9]

Joshua Copperman: This is impressive, disturbing, and makes me uncomfortable. There are so many pretty things about this song, especially the string arrangement and the chorus ("down... hill...") but the claustrophobic mix drowns them all out - it's hard to be fully immersed when the strings are so harsh and random sound effects appear like cheap jump scares in an otherwise 'elevated' horror film. When the low end drifts off in the last third of the track, the song becomes completely ungrounded, lost in its own atonal misery. When it works, it works, but the song at the core is not worth the sensory overload. [6]

David Moore: Sky Ferreira specializes in deceptively up downers, but here the inertia from the droning Beatles strings (evoking the Ekkehard Ehlers loop of "Good Night") drags the whole song downhill. Maybe it works as a closer -- she brings in a slow-mo Velvet Underground orchestral squall midway through that hints at dark conclusions. [6]

Alfred Soto: Six years after Night Time, My Time limned the terror and frustration of a woman too young to endure the depredations of the record industry, Sky Ferreira returns with a thickly mixed, almost ponderous noise cloud, picking up where the last album's title track left off. It's compelling because like a seasoned actress Ferreira knows how to manipulate her charisma. From anyone else, I'd fidget. [7]

Vikram Joseph: Sky Ferreira's pre-release hype tweets tell us that there will be pop songs on Masochism; this just isn't one of them. "Downhill Lullaby" is certainly a startling choice for a lead single; it has echoes of Lana Del Rey and Madonna's "Frozen", but in its thick, foreboding slide and guttural chug has more in common with the glacial, broken-robot slowcore of Low at their most greyscale. Unfortunately, it forgoes hooks in search of a dramatic heft that it never quite obtains; the strings circle ominously without ever amounting to anything more than a signifier that this is Big and Artistic. The lyrics are dark and hint at the promised Masochism of the forthcoming album, but Ferreira's vocals are lost and ineffective way down at the muddy low-end of the mix. We can but hope that the album folds her more experimental impulses into some better-constructed songs. [4]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: "Downhill Lullaby" is a pleasant hell. From that crawling, slow bassline that drags through the entire track to the screeches of strings that are just as pervasive, Sky Ferreira's soundscape is claustrophobic and visceral. To live inside of this track, to carry it around with you in the world, is an exercise in anxiety and fear and the feeling of being trapped. It's a song that simultaneously makes its singer small and makes her the only thing that matters-- the way she growls and mutters out every syllable as if she is singing only to herself, the way the track seems to follow her lead like some organic thing. It's not a song that I can listen to very often, but it's worth it whenever I can. [9]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

#Sky Ferreira #pop #music #music review #writing

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andrewmoocow · 5 years ago

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Fooly Falls 2 Ride on Shooting Star chapter 5: Ex-Partners in Crime (originally posted on May 30, 2019)

AN: And now the end is near. And so we face, the final curtain. My fans, I'll say it clear. I'll finish this tale, of course I am certain. I've wrote this sequel, I improved the source with my own flair. But after all of this, the climax is getting there. WKUHH ERBV, ZLWK GLVFRUG XQZDQWHG WZR ROG IULHQGV, ZLWK SDVWV IRUHYHU KDXQWHG RQH PDQ, DQ DQVZHU PDGH KLP GDXQWHG GHVWLQB OHIW WR EH DQVZHUHG, DQG WKHB'UH JRQQD EH HAKDXVWHG

In the style of an old black and white film, an assembly of giant irons stood perfectly single file before the setting sun. Gwen quietly watched before turning away and picked a bottle up off the ground. She then discovered a dejected worker sitting in front of a campfire with his hardhat the only splash of color. Gwen examined the sight before her when she also discovered the outline of a skeleton beneath her feet, where she placed the bottle in the center of its chest. Just then the girl dropped to her side in pain, discovering a small disk stuck in her foot that she gave to the skeleton to serve as an eye. As a nearby engine roared, steam from a structure decorated with irons covered the monochrome land like a sandstorm, sweeping her up along the way. When Gwen opened her eyes, she laid in a colorful body of water with her beanie in hand. Then the world suddenly turned greyscale as she excitedly ran along the shoreline while the Medical Mechanica factory continued to stand upright.

-- Ian whistled a familiar tune while tuning up a large computer monitor nestled within Ford's study. "Ride on shooting star. Yabba dabba doo, somethi-ing." he quietly sang while making a few final touches and dismounted from his maintenance creeper. "Okay, main screen turn on?" "Yeah, main screen turn on." Dipper answered turning to a certain someone tied up and fast asleep in a chair. "Rise and shine old friend." he announced placing a freshly cooked chicken leg under Haruko's nose, and the delicious scent wafting into it finally woke her up. "W-what happened?" she asked slowly beginning to wake up. "Last thing I remember was working on something before there was this napkin that covered me and-hey!" "There's no escaping this Raharu. You will give us the answers on your past that we've been searching for!" Ford declared dramatically stepping out of the shadows. "And perhaps some clues on what you're planning this time. Kanda?" "Will do." Tsukata replied hooking the Vespa Woman up to the machine with a helmet resembling a strainer and the monitor finally activated. "This was originally built to defend minds from the dream demon known as Bill Cipher, but now it's been rebuilt to simply read them and view the memories within." "This could be it everyone, our biggest breakthrough!" Dipper cackled joyously as it began booting up. "You okay there Dipper? You've slowly grown more unhinged." Ian asked nervously placing a hand on the older man's shoulder before he was slapped away. "I'm not going unhinged, I'm just excited to finally see through her lies once and for all!" Dipper continued lighting up a fifth cigarette. "So much so that I've literally cut my smokes in half!" "Yeah, he's officially snapped." Kanda commented taking a puff of his own cigarette and sitting down next to Haruko. "Oy, a bunch of losers the lot of you." Haruhara japed with a grin. "You've all become conspiracy theorists who'd resort to kidnapping an expecting mother just to prove a point. And since when did you take up smoking?" "Since I failed to quit." the agent muttered. "And I've been doing it to help me calm down." Dipper added taking a break from his mini-celebration. "Augh, my back." Haruko groaned struggling to reach for her back. "Must be the ropes getting a bit too tight, or you're just getting old." Kanda commented. "Naw, can't really age." the woman responded. "I've been 19 for what feels like ages now." "How many years exactly?" Ford asked writing in a new journal. "Hell if I know, probably ever since I met you-know-who." Haruko answered. "The summer I turned seventeen, was when I took up smoking for the first time." Kanda explained. "Sort of the same with me, only I took up smoking to deal with becoming a father." Dipper replied just as Project Mentem started acting up. "Oh my God, it's finally time!" "Can't believe it took one conversation for it to get started." Ian remarked pounding at the machine. "Well, let's get cracking." After a few moments of static, a full image revealed itself as a slightly younger looking Haruko dressed in drab work-clothes with a familiar iron in the background. "Wait a minute, is that-" Dipper exclaimed while his eyes widened. "Yep. Haruha Raharu, ex-factory worker." Raharu groaned in resignation over her past. "And it was back when Medical Mechanica had control over my planet too." As the younger Vespa Woman continued trudging about her day, Ford lost interest. "Let's just skip to the interesting stuff." the scientist declared fast-fowarding through the memory until it stopped at Haruha rocking out on some equipment as a makeshift drumkit. "Now that's the little devil we know!" "Hey, keep it down in there Haruha!" a strict, snarly voice cried out to her barging into the room. He was a tall, robust figure with a thick mustache, very long nose and a comically large cigar in his mouth. "Ah, good ol' Heinzenberg. A real J. Jonah he was, really miss when he would scream like crazy at everyone." Haruko reminisced on her former boss. "Either stop those abominable sounds or I'll do it for you!" Heinzenberg screamed pulling out a laser blaster and firing, but his rebellious employee swiftly escaped. "Try and catch me brushface!" "Wow, seems like everyone hated your guts." Dipper remarked as the fight between Haruha & Heinzenberg tore the workplace apart, to the ire of everybody else. When the dust settled, the area was in shambles and Heinzenberg was completely furious. "HAAAAAAA-RUUUUUUU-HAAAAAARAAAAA! YOOOOOOOOOUUUUUU'REEEEEEE FIIIIIIIIIREEEEEEDDDDD!" "Was he really that loud?" Ford asked as the Haruha on the screen was dragged away by security robots. "Yep, to the point where one had to add extra letters to whatever he was screaming." Haruko cackled before her smirk turned into a frown as Kanda fast-fowarded to the biker's home life, where she was being harshly scolded by a man presumed to be her father. "Do you realize what you've done Haruha?!" "Abusive parent, correct?" Ian interviewed their captive. "Oh you better believe it. The old man was a completely irredeemable piece of shit who loved drinking more than his own family." Raharu declared morosely, turning away from that ugly part of her past. "And as for my mom, pretty sure she got killed by him in a drunken rage. But who knows, I barely knew her." "Your slacking off and playing that infernal music nearly got us all in trouble!" Mr. Raharu drunkenly shouted after smacking his daughter across the face. "Either behave like every other girl on this godforsaken planet or never show your face around me again!" Just then, the cruddy former apartment home of Haruha started rumbling and a loud voice bellowed "SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT! I WANT TO SEE WHAT YOU GOT!" The ceiling began falling to pieces little by little, all capped off with a steel girder losing its support and falling right over Haruko's father. "WHAT THE FU-" was all he could scream before the girder reduced him to a puddle of red. "The Cromulons!" Ford exclaimed fast-fowarding to Haruko on stage before the giant planet-sized heads gazing down on her. "PLANET WASPRUS, SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT!" the Cromulon boomed. "So what, do they go around screaming at planets?" Kanda asked. "And what do they want to be shown?" "The Cromulons are a race of giant floating heads who force the inhabitants of planets to perform in their own musical contest show." Haruko answered. "My planet frowned upon any form of creativity, but I just loved sticking it to the man." "Aw shitballs you guys, we gotta run!" the belches of a middle aged man sounded as he and his two companions, a stonefaced bird person and a catlike creature, ran for the hills to a hijacked cargo ship. "Hey, the old gang!" Haruko chirped excitedly. "Wait, the what?" Ian asked staring at the screen. "Those my boy, were the Flesh Curtains." Ford stated putting a hand on the eldest Ramirez's shoulder. "A band consisting of Rick Sanchez, an old frenemy of mine; and his two weird comrades Birdperson and Squanchy." "And it's not just them. Look." Birdperson announced pointing upward to a giant red phoenix that warped itself over Wasprus. "IT SEEMS WE HAVE A SPECIAL GUEST DISQUALIFIER!" the Cromulon boomed. "LEGENDARY PIRATE KING ATOMSK, SHOW US WHAT YOU GOT!" While Rick and his posse urged the younger Haruko to not give in, she was utterly mesmerized by Atomsk's might as she slowly stepped towards him. "Don't do it babe, that's Atomsk! His power will seriously screw with your head!" Rick warned, but Haruha didn't listen and reached out to the giant bird while her hair turned into its trademark pink. A large chain wrapped around the Pirate King's neck attached to the girl's wrist and she pulled it with all her might, eventually breaking it in two. Just as Atomsk screeched, Raharu was dragged away by Birdperson and raced to the cargo ship, escaping the doomed Wasprus in the nick of time when it completely exploded. "Welp, there goes that gig." Rick groaned in defeat taking a chug out of a flask. "How's our extra cargo doing?" "Still out squanch from Atomsk." the cat-person stated checking for a pulse just as their passenger came to. "Oh geez, what happened?" Haruha moaned rubbing her head when she took notice of the old man, the bird and the cat surrounding her. "Where am I, and who are all of you?!" "Well I can assure you miss, I am not a man in a suit that will teach you the alphabet." Birdperson answered. "You may call me Birdperson. These two are my bandmates Squanchy and Rick." "Okay, we played the name game. But where's my planet?!" Raharu shouted grabbing the two animal-like creatures by their collarbones. "Well funny story babe, might wanna squanch around and see what happened." Squanchy suggested trying to break free and the future Vespa Woman took his suggestion, gazing out the back window to find what was left of her home planet. "My home's all gone." Haruha muttered shedding a few tears, but those tears were soon replaced with a celebratory manic grin. "I'M FREE!" "Whoa now, aren't you the least bit torn up about everyone you ever loved there now pretty much dead?" Squanchy stated. "I don't care, cause no one felt that about me either!" the Flesh Curtains' passenger whooped. "No more shitty dad, no more boring job, and no more stifling of creativity!" "Hell yeah, now you're speaking my language!" Rick replied merrily. "Hey, didn't get your name lass. What do they call you?" he asked putting a microphone to the girl's mouth. "I'm Haruha Raharu." she introduced herself. "Hm, doesn't roll off the tongue as much." the drunken traveler commented. "You ever tried picking up a name like the ones in the comics like Peter Parker, Reed Richards, Billy Batson or Fred Flintstone?" "I don't believe that last one came from a comic." Birdperson tried to correct his bandmate until he was shushed. "I got a great one! How about Haruko Haruhara?" Sanchez announced pretending to knight the girl with what would become her famous Rickenbacker bass. "I like it, really does sound like those old comics!" the newly renamed Vespa Woman exclaimed. "So where to?" "Wherever the hell we want to!" Squanchy answered pointing onward before the fond memory paused itself. "Ah, the old gang. We were kinda like the Fab Four back then. Rick was Paul, Birdperson was Lennon, Squanchy was Ringo and yours truly was George." Haruko thought back to happier times with a smile. "The four of us were unstoppable! Traveling the multiverse, playing gigs, sticking it to the man, making crossovers and just having fun regardless!" Haruko managed to sneak her foot out of one of her boots to fiddle with Project Mentem and fast-forwarded through many events during her travels with Rick. In particular were running from an angry mob of robots resembling ones & zeros in a city within a computer, holding a concert for tons of excited colorful fans with gemstones on their bodies, playing with a golden snail that had a phone attached to its shell which led to an entire island being destroyed, defacing a money bin and all other sorts of mischief. "But then everything went horribly wrong when we planned what I call 'The Mechanica Mission'." she stated sadly stopping at the four nomads looking over current plans. "-ere's what we're gonna do. Haruko will infiltrate the Brotherhood and rise through their ranks so she can allow us to find Atomsk." Rick explained. "Afterwards, Squanchy will break into the Medical Mechanica factory where our contact has stated he's being held in while Birdperson & I form a distraction." "So even being a first-class space patrol officer was part of your scheme as well?!" Ford exclaimed. "To be honest, I don't know what I expected." "Don't wanna delve too much into it but in a nutshell, everything went to shit." Haruko regaled forwarding faster to a standoff between her and Rick in front of a Medical Mechanica factory with armies of insectoid aliens & Medical Machines on either side, their bandmates hovering nearby on another hijacked ship and Atomsk appearing out of a giant wormhole. "So all this time, we were just being used so that you can have sex with Atomsk?!" Rick screamed as he felt betrayed by his partner. "Pretty sure his pecker is way too big to fit in your hive! And I'm really going to regret those puns!" "But wasn't there ever a time in your life where you sought after ultimate power?!" the Vespa Woman responded sadistically. "Bitch, I've been possessed by those types before! But did I use those to turn on those I legitimately care for!" the alcoholic nihilist shouted preparing to attack with his guitar. "It's no use Rick, get back here before the portal reaches maximum instability!" Birdperson cautioned his bandmate. "I'll be back in a bit you guys, gotta settle the score first." Sanchez snarled mounting what would become Haruko's Vespa scooter and charging at her with battle cry and bass. Raharu would do the same and then, the video faded to snow leaving the four men utterly flabbergasted. "So it all makes sense now." Kanda declared shutting it off. "Or at least, as much sense as a person like Haruko can make it." "Other dimensions? Wait til the others hear about this!" Ian added excitedly. "Maybe I could pitch this to whatever big Hollywood director hasn't had their reputation ruined." "At least we finally got our answers Dipper." Ford said to his greatnephew, but he received no answer. "Dipper?" Dipper on the other hand stared emptily at the blank screen contemplating over everything they just watched. Her home planet, that crazy man, the multiverse, Medical Mechanica, Atomsk. In the time he knew Haruko, her past was a total enigma with the exception of how she was a space cop gone rogue, but even that was all a sham. He began lightly snickering while clutching his head. "Ha." he flatly laughed. "Ha ha ha. Ffnk, ahoo. Ahoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo." Dipper's sanity began tumbling down even faster before his chuckling turned into full-blown insane cackling. "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" "Dipper, stop laughing and answer me!" Stanford demanded his now completely insane apprentice. "IT WAS ALL A LIE! IT WAS ALL A LIE!" Dipper screamed merrily continuing his mad chortling and smashing the screen. "YOU ARE TEARING ME APART LISA!" "Uh, has anyone seen Haruko?" Ian asked pointing out the empty stool spinning in a circle. "It seems Dipper's little episode here has given her an opportunity to flee." Ford observed on the verge of coming to a shocking conclusion. "But where could she be off t-Oh no." Just as fast as he made his realization, Ford bolted out of his study and went up the elevator to follow the lying motorist. "Where's he off to?" Kanda asked Ian. "Stan is holding a little wake for Jinyu," the eldest Ramirez son answered. "And I don't want to know what Haruko will be up to."

A small drum accompanied a confused rabbi singing for Julia Jinyu in front of the equally unaware attendees who are staring at Stanley and wondering among themselves why they're attending a funeral for someone who was basically unknown to them. "We have no idea who the deceased is, but I can promise she will rest in peace. May He take good care of this woman, and continue to watch over us all." the rabbi chanted before clearing his throat, switching his Jewish dialect for a growling Midwestern accent. "All right Pines, pay up!" he shouted holding out his hand and expecting cash. "Haven't got all day, have a wedding in Alabama to preside over." "Who's the lucky underage victim and their offender?" Stan asked fishing a wad of thousands out of his wheelchair. "Don't want to get anyone here mad, but it's a juicy one!" the rabbi replied with a smug grin. After snatching his bills from the old man's hand, he wordlessly allowed the audience to give their condolences before leaving. First came Senator Gideon Gleeful. Although he and Stanley made amends, there was still a friendly contempt between the two. "So how's that conspiracy against President Kitaki going?" the con-artist asked his old enemy. "Moving along quite nicely Pines. Already got the Fundshausers on my side." Gideon replied turning to Grenda & Marius with a wink and a grin. "Can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm probably going to being voting for you." Stan admitted. "The less we need of that old hag trying to ban the possibility of intergalactic travel, the better!" Next came Masurao. "Hey I know you! You're that guy from Little Asia!" the great-uncle exclaimed. "I am sorry for your loss sir, but I'm on borrowed time." Masurao apologized before scurrying outside. "What's his deal?" "So the damn thing stood up? And it's also getting foggy." Masurao stated spying on the upright iron from below with Eyepatch. "It'll go away when the sun reaches its peak." Eyepatch responded. "Did we really need to make a pitstop at the Shack on our way there?" "Even if it doesn't have a fraction of the power it once had." his partner remarked gazing upon Canti's head while Aiko spied on the two men without their knowledge. "Don't worry, just forget about it." Eyepatch assured him before they departed in a pickup truck carrying the Medical Machine's remains while the funeral continued on as normal. Eventually the two made it to an orbit elevator area in Portland where a doglike man waited for them. "Hey champ, you training hard for tomorrow?!" Eyepatch greeted the worker with a fistbump. "Oh you know, just trying to save my money." the other man replied. "Feel free to just head on in, warehouse should be up ahead." "Good on the money sport. It's important to make plans for the future y'know." Eyepatch complimented, which warranted a grumble from Masurao. When the worker tried to pick up Canti's head, it suddenly turned on for a split second. "Hey, watch how you're handling that thing Mutt!" Masurao ordered. "It's like, vintage!" "Yeah, this is pretty heavy. My bad." Mutt quickly apologized. "That thing's a piece of junk anyways champ. Hakuna matata as they always say!" Eyepatch casually stated which earned him an earful from his younger companion. "Are you insane?! Do you have any idea how much that-" "I totes got it sir." Mutt assured them. "You know, I had a hard time throwing away my first cellphone! Sentimental value is sometimes worth the most." "You don't understand at all!" Masurao continued shouting before the other two men laughed. -- Back at Jinyu's funeral in Gravity Falls, Arnold grimly faced the wall while Juan & Jorge tried to apologize. "Please, you gotta forgive us Arnie!" the twins cried bowing to the floor in shame. "We'll do anything to make it up to you! Would you like to come with us to that new amusement park opening up?" "I'd rather go with someone who won't deliberately leave me to die just because of their manliness obsession." Arnold glowered not ever taking his eyes off the wall. "But if we bring girls with us, we'll get a hefty discount! Like 99% I heard! Aiko asked me to come with her!" Juan tried appealing to their sullen friend, but he still received no answer even as Gwen entered the room. "Fine, be a jerkass for pretty much barely any rhyme or reason for all we care!" Suddenly, Haruko abruptly barged into the living room riding on her scooter and wearing Jinyu's shades, interrupting the funeral and enraging Stan. She slammed her hands on the coffin to speak to the audience. "So listen up everybody, cause I have an important announcement to make! Kay?" Haruko declared. "I am, um, gonna get married!" she announced switching into a wedding dress to everyone's bewildered cheering. "And everyone is invited! Yes I mean everyone!" "I congratulate you on your marriage madame, but this is a place of mourning. Please save your speech til after the wake." one of Gideon's bodyguards with long hair stated. "Do we have visual on crazy pregnant biker that just interrupted a funeral?" "Noted. Prepare for detainment." his black jerry-curled partner replied swapping the burger he was eating for a cattle prod. "Oh wait wait wait, you can't inflict violence on an expecting mother & housewife like that!" Haruko exclaimed turning into a homemaker with a creepy baby doll on her back. "Now let me tell you all the tale of how my husband and I, fell. In. Love." "So my hubby and I met at an amusement park in Portland, and I was there during sunset." the so-called mother narrated through children's crayon drawings. "Clumsy ol' me was about to get hit by a roller coaster when HE swept in to save me like I was a damsel in distress! It was MY HUBBY!" The final drawing depicted Haruko kissing a humanoid red bird which struck a chord in Gwen, as if she had seen him before. "So remember everyone, amusement parks are a paradise!" the Vespa Woman preached. "Forget this sobstory, let's go have so-" "HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-RUUUUUUUUU-KOOOOOOOOOOO!" Stan screamed as loud as his nearly eight decade old lungs could cut his former friend off. "Oh hey, didn't see you there Stanley! Thought this was your funeral." Haruko remarked finally realizing who the funeral was for. "Oh, for Jinyu? You guys barely even chatted!" "Don't play coy with me Haruko! You know I'm being serious since I'm not calling you Raharu!" Stan screamed while Soos & Mabel tried to hold him back. "This will be the chapter where I'll get payback for what you've done to my family all those years ago!" "Okay I just started caring, what?" a plaid-shirted man with some grey in his brown hair & goatee asked. "The rest of you get on outta here! This is between me and her!" Stan commanded and the funeral attendees ran outside just as the coffin was opened by Sammy Determined, a tanned, geeky young man with large glasses and a beauty mark on his chin. "I've been stuck in this coffin pretending to be a dead body for like half an hour. Can I go home now?" "You're excused Sam." Stan politely accepted and Sammy raced out the door within half the blink of an eye. "Anyway, I challenge you to a little standoff sweetheart! You and me, Gravity Falls pool, be there or be half of a square!" The grunkle was just about to leave when he made a mechanical arm appear to grab Arnold. "And you're coming with me Arnold, since you're just as much of a victim here." "Help me." Arnold whimpered as he was taken outside just as Ford and Tsukata burst into the living room. "Oh lord, I'm too late!" he shouted racing around the area for any sign of his brother. "I knew this would happen, I just knew." he groaned pinching the bridge of his nose when Gwen spoke up. "What would happen Greatkle Ford?" "I just knew Raharu would purposefully cut off this funeral to get Stanley's goat." Stanford answered. "Though I'm pretty sure she's lying about being pregnant." "Hey, have you seen Dipper anywhere? Haven't seen him since you kidnapped Haruko." Mabel asked for her brother while the Vespa Woman flipped him off behind her. "We just did some digging through her mind and what we found just...broke him." Kanda answered mournfully. "Who do you think is still available right now?" "Mom and Tyrone are. They're having a mother-son day in watching bad movies." Gwen answered. "Well what are you waiting for dudette? Call 'em!" Soos urged the girl. "Hey Gwennie, wouldn't you rather go to the amusement park instead? You're the one that I wanted to go." Haruko tried to make her change her mind. "I'm not going miss." Gwen quietly said picking up her phone. "GWEN-NIE!" -- "Ha ha ha ha, now I look like an even bigger idiot!" Tyrone & Wendy monotonously cackled in unison in response to the horrible costume worn by the leading man of "Invasion of The Bear-Eating Man Family" while Tyrone knitted a new sweater for Stan. "Wow, Joel Nelson clearly had no idea what made good costuming!" he laughed. "Still slightly better than the outfit he made Michelle Hodgson wear." Wendy replied. "Or lack thereof." Just then, the phone rang. "I got it!" Tyrone shouted racing to the phone, but his mother was also focused on answering which resulted in a play-fight that her son quickly won. "Pines cabin, Tyrone speaking!" Tyrone said. "Ty, thank goodness I can reach you." Gwen sighed in relief. "Listen, has Dad come home recently?" "He's holed himself up in our room a couple minutes ago after getting a can of Willy-Nilly's Coffee beans and a knife." Wendy answered. "I'm getting really worried for him. Tyrone honey, can you go up to check on your father?" "Will do Mommy!" Tyrone accepted with a salute and merrily made his way upstairs, but his cheerfulness quickly turned into dread the further he got. When he opened the door to his parents' room, there Dipper was emptily gazing at an old Petra the Pterodactyl video while munching on raw coffee beans and squeezing a Petra plush and his son's beloved stuffed pig Waddles II in his arms. "I'm asking you for a survey Nilly, do you like Willy-Nilly's Coffee?" Dipper asked through Petra to Waddles II. "No, no I don't." Waddles II replied before Petra suddenly held a knife in its tiny three-fingered hand. "Well survey says everyone does. Because anyone who doesn't gets shanked." Petra revealed about to stab the pig before Tyrone performed a diving save on his pig. "NOOOO!" "T-T-Tyrone? What are you doing?!" Dipper shouted even more neurotically than usual. "No, I wanna know what are you doing! You tried to stab Waddles daddy!" Tyrone cried hugging his father worriedly. "I'm so sorry sport, I've just been going through some things lately." the older male responded hugging him back. "Just some...revelations making me go cuckoo for cocoa." "Like what?" his son asked. "Well for example, Raharu actually came from another dimension where she met this scientist who behaved an awful lot like Stan." Mason explained. "They went on adventures across the multiverse together, playing music and causing borderline madness. Eventually they formed a plan to steal the Pirate King Atomsk from Medical Mechanica but that went south and then everything after that was just white noise." "Wow, that sounds even cooler than what you did with her Dad!" Tyrone exclaimed in awe. "Cool, kinda. Healthy, no way in Hell." Dipper concluded putting a hand on his youngest's shoulder. "We gotta find and stop her at once. Where's your sister and cousin?" "Arnold got taken by Greatkle Stan to participate in his little feud with Haruko and I'm not sure what's up with Gwen, but I really hope everything will turn out okay!" Arnold declared with optimism, blissfully unaware of the oncoming chaos while a faint knock on the door was heard. -- "I won't let you involve my family in your schemes anymore!" Stan shouted to Haruko from the other side of the empty swimming pool. "And I don't want to be involved here!" Arnold cried begging to be let go. "Please Stan, Pacifica will kick your ass hard when she hears about this!" "Oh? You think I'm the bad guy for getting your family all tangled up in my schemes, pyon?" Haruko playfully mocked standing on the other side with her red jacket over a blue one-piece. "For a wannabe white knight, you sure are quite the hypocrite." "Arnie, bass." Stanley commanded his great-great nephew as he pushed a button on the armrest of his wheelchair that transformed it into a miniature exoskeleton to help him walk properly. "Wait, since when could you do that?!" Arnold exclaimed in shock while unveiling a certain Jazzmaster for his great-great uncle to use. "There are tons of things about my wheels that you never knew about, and some you'll never know about." Stan stated taking the guitar and slinging it over his shoulder with both hands. "Well what're you waiting for? Come at me!" "Okay. Let's do this." Haruko chummily declared just as her former friend angrily charged, but she quickly blocked the bass with just her feet. "I know you're super old, but you really got no talent nya." she groaned in disappointment. The wasp continued blocking all of Stan's attempts to land a hit and when it seemed like he was finally about to score one, instead came being kicked into the pool shed. "You learned how to fight with your back, right? Cause it seems like time has made you forget!" Stan was just about ready to surrender until he spotted Arnold nervously sitting on a deck chair and got an idea. "Tag me out kid! Tag me out!" he called for the boy while reaching out his hand. "Wait, you're serious? You want me to fight her?" Arnold said curiously. "Well, this could be a chance for me to be manly without a certain duo threatening my life." The pair high-fived and Arnold picked up the Jazzmaster to use. "I'm the boss, I'm the boss, I'm the boss, I'm the boss!" he quietly chanted to himself while charging forward and preparing a mighty swing, but Haruko then swiftly dodged it. "Whatever you wanna do blondie, you gotta do it with strength!" she announced sticking a perfect landing. Arnold however remained resolute and began muttering "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can!" "This is where Stan wanted to fight Raharu!" Ford explained to Gwen & Tyrone while the three arrived at the pool but instead of seeing the other grunkle fight her, it was instead Arnold taking off his sweatervest and trying to swing again. "Use your hips, arms relaxed, chin tucked in." Haruha instructed her opponent after yet another nimble avoidance, but Arnold simply didn't listen and escaped from her grasp. "You're no good m'boy, no good at all!" "JUST STAY AWAY FROM MY FAMILY!" Arnold howled rigorously trying one last time to smack her, but was knocked down with a small tap and a declaration of "Oint." "Stan, do you have any idea what in God's name you're doing to Arnold?!" Ford hissed from the other side of the chain fence to his brother. "Don't go accusing me, the kid's just as much a victim as the rest of us!" Stan replied with a holler. "Okay, maybe I am partially to blame." "Go get'er cuz, show her what we've taught you!" Tyrone cheered for his cousin before he suddenly realized that he cheered a bit too late. "Oh right, you're down for the count. Sorry!" "If strength was measured by the hits one took, then you wouldn't be considered such a loser." Haruko said to Arnold while her bracelet began tingling once again. "To be honest, I thought you'd be better given your heritage. That's why you were taught all those things, to increase your manliness I heard. But I guess all those were for nothing because you know just about as much." As Gwen watched, something in her began trembling and her hat glowed faintly. "That's where you're wrong Raharu. You don't know anything either." Arnold argued bravely to her confusion. "The truth is, I'm completely unsatisfied!" This angered Haruko before she decided to remove her jacket right on top of the boy, which finally made Gwen go berserk. The force given off by her beanie blasted the door away and rapidly sucked Arnold inside her head. "Wait, what's going on!?" "He was right. Pacifica's gonna put all of us in the morgue." Stan regarded fearfully realizing his huge mistake when the absorption concluded leaving everyone shocked. All that was left was a bizarre black cutout with Arnold's Northwest ring on the finger. "Uh, my bad! Things will probably get worse than usual this time around." Haruko sheepishly apologized before mounting on her Vespa and preparing to take off. "I'll be waiting. She zoomed off leaving the four Pines and what was left of Arnold at the pool. "Hey, get back here you bitchy bassist! We still haven't settled our score yet!" Stan cursed angrily shaking his fists at the clouds. Gwen in comparison was utterly heartbroken by what she did to her cousin. "Oh I am so sorry about what happened to Arnold little lady." Ford said trying to comfort her. "You know, this reminds me of my Backupsmore days. Our school just won a cross-country event and we decided to celebrate by tearing everything apart. You should've seen the pool! They flipped the bitch!" "Where were you during that time?" Tyrone asked. "My roommate and I didn't want to take any part in the riot for safety reasons, so we went out for Italian." his genius great-grunkle answered. "I only wanted to lighten the mood after what happened just now, but I'm not sure how it'll work." -- Across town, business was booming at the amusement park with dozens of excited visitors of all ages stampeding through the entrance, most of them being couples. The Ramirez children were among these couples most notably Leia & Ezra, leaving Ian to watch over Juan, Jorge and Abby. "Does anyone have an idea on where Imelda is?" Ian asked his younger siblings while taking a bite out of some confectionery treats from the food stands. "She said that she got a part-time job here but hasn't come back." "While I'm just as concerned for Mel, all I want to know is WHERE IS AIKO?!" Juan cried out furiously typing on his phone. Elsewhere in the park, Tonkichi quietly observed two men fighting for the love of a girl and accidentally getting caught in each other before a red force took over their heads. "Excuse me sir, how much longer will this test ride go on?" Imelda asked Tonkichi. "Oh not too much longer." the theme park owner assured the seven-year-old. "All you gotta do is just stay right there my girl." As for Masurao, he was currently examining the park's webpage with Eyepatch. "Wait, hold on. Not that one." his senior citizen superior stated. "What? I thought it was Mr. Dodo." Masurao replied. "Don't you forget that we're dealing with super top secret stuff here, so that means we must activate the hidden communication mode." Eyepatch advised the younger male. "Go to the shopping section and push the little kiwi strap." "Which one?" Masurao exclaimed trying to find that strap. "The fluffy one right down there." On Eyepatch's commands, Masurao clicked on the image of a kiwi that led the two to a dining menu page. "Are you sure? The link went to a menu." he muttered in confusion. "Now just push She's So Chicky Wings." When he clicked on the menu item, it then guided to an article on one of the rides. "The Icarus Fall is the world's third-fastest falling ride?" "Wait wait wait, go back up!" Eyepatch shouted. "That's gotta be it, the falling one!" he added excitedly. "Uh, they're all falling." Masurao responded not knowing what his boss just said. "The one with the little emu!" "But which one?" "The one with the fluffy wings!" "You have to be more specific!" "THERE!" With a smack of his cane, Eyepatch made Masurao tap the emu which made Tonkichi appear on a video screen in his dodo costume. "Hello there, it's Mr. Dodo!" he merrily greeted them. "It's me." Masurao stoically greeted. "Don't be so sorry. Sometimes a kid will come calling me." the receiver grimly replied when another child greeted him. "Hi Mr. Dodo!" "Hey kid!" Tonkichi waved his wing at the passing child before returning to his teammates. "And any updates from Kanda?" "Nothing yet, though he has promised." Masurao answered. "But we did see the recently installed viking ship. We'll also have to deal with Immigration matters, but I don't want to rush you too much." "And what of the flower pot? Is it complete yet?" Tonkichi continued asking. "Uh sure. It can be activated at any time." Masurao muttered nervously. "The plant is online, alright!" Eyepatch declared, but their partner was too busy trying to greet a pair of girls who didn't want to be near him. "Can you please focus on your real job and see the data I sent you?" the younger redhead groaned incredulously. "This is a real job too!" Tonkichi argued. "Don't you know that this park helps fun-" "Do you think we can make do without that pot?" Eyepatch asked his colleague as the latter closed the video on Tonkichi and Aiko overheard their conversation. "I doubt it." Masurao groaned in defeat. "If you can't activate the flower pot, any backup plans we come up with will be useless!" "Shut up, I know that!" Aiko's father exclaimed while his daughter went upstairs to look for money she made off her dating service in a jack-o-lantern situated in her closet. "Aiko." Masurao called for his daughter while she frantically closed the closet door. "What is it?" the girl asked and her dad just looked down for a moment. -- "So which one of us do you think Pacifica will kill first?" Stan asked while Tyrone helped put his wheelchair back together, Gwen examined the balloon that was once her cousin and Ford collected some leftover pool water that he put into a beaker. "Personally, I'm betting on you poindexter since you started all this by bringing Gwen here." "I started this?!" Ford shouted angrily. "You're the one who's fostered this animosity with Raharu for literally twenty years ever since she first left us!" Still fuming, the scientist examined the beaker he had just used along with four others containing radioactive waste, soy sauce, machine oil and a strand of pink hair. "And what are you up to?" Stan asked gazing at the beakers. "Just been experimenting on some substances to make a superhuman formula. Just got some pool water from here, soy sauce from Little Asia, radioactive sludge from Scuttlebutt Island, machine oil and some of Raharu's hair." "How is that going to do anything of substance you nerd?" Stanley hissed. "Well, other than probably give you a killer stomachache." "It's still highly experimental brother, so maybe there is a chance of a killer stomachache." Stanford agreed before the two great-grunkles gazed at Gwen holding the balloon in her arms. "S-so thirsty." a familiar voice croaked through Arnold's ring. "W-water." "Great Caesar's ghost, he's alive!" Tyrone exclaimed while his big sister took the balloon to the pool showers. "Hey, put on a smile sis! Arnold's still out there!" he tried to cheer her up when the showers seemingly activated on command. "I don't want to remember what happened this morning." Gwen monologued reminiscing to earlier that day in manga form. -- "Oh good morning Gwennie!" Wendy greeted her daughter coming down the stairs. "Check it out, Jinyu left us so many clean & unbroken plates." Gwen however wasn't interested. "Something the matter my little pecan pie?" her mother asked. "I'm just back to my normal self, that's all." "No, you seem eerily different." Wendy said concernedly just as her daughter stepped outside and she realized something. "I've...changed?" Gwen stuttered going back inside to find her mom packing some small boxes. "What are you doing?" she asked. "Just...have fun at the Shack little dude. And tell Stan I send my condolences." Wendy said trying to dodge the question. "And also tell Arnold his aunt says hey!" "Seriously mom, why are you packing? Are we going to move?!" Gwen shouted suddenly getting angry. "I thought Dad wanted to stay here to catalogue all the weird crap going on here and hang with Aunt Mabel!" Wendy frowned to herself over her daughter's feelings before turning back to her. "I think it's time we try something different. Y'know, I always wanted to live in Portland." That was when Gwen's beanie beeping began to coincide with her bursting into tears. -- Returning to the present, the shower stopped and the balloon began to inflate in Gwen's arms. "Hey, is this about losing Jinyu, Greatkle Stan getting mad at Haruko, or losing Arnold?" Tyrone tried to console the older girl. "I'm here for you if you wanna shoulder to cry on." The balloon reached its maximum size and drifted to the ceiling above the kids. Taking a poolstick, Gwen grabbed it and took it outside where it was properly able to ascend. And then, as her beanie began blinking once again, she made a miniature crater beneath her feet which horrified her present family. "Find, the others, now." Ford muttered. -- "Hi, I'm Mr. Dodo!" Tonkichi greeted the happy couples in his mascot costume, but none were paying attention. "Looks like everyone's having a great time, am I right? Hey! Boys and girls!" he exclaimed while a group of employees armed with firearms assembled behind him. "You're all just little brats who still don't have all your hair down there! Sorry, but you're all pretty much useless!" The employees then aimed their weapons at the unknowing parkgoers on command. "FIRE!" Tonkichi ordered. "Sorry, wrong voice." he realized clearing his throat and switching to a deeper voice. "FIRE!" The weapons launched a series of red beams that tagged everyone and making the same red force appear in their heads. "THIS IS WHY I DON'T TRUST THEME PARKS!" Ezra screamed in pain as he and Leia became victims as well. "If I don't make it out of here alive, I want you to know Leia that I really do love you, and I'm basically a tsundere!" "Ha, called it!" Leia chuckled before she went back to screaming and gazed terrified at her brother. "Ian, get the kids away and we'll all catch up later! You four are the only single ones here!" she shouted to Ian. "Right! Juan, Jorge, Abby, come with me!" "But where do we find them? Where do we find Mommy and Daddy?!" Abby cried as Jorge took her arm. "Not sure, but they're probably just as lost as all the other couples here are!" Juan exclaimed racing off. The energy collected from the visitors soon filled up all the big rides at the park and caused them to lift themselves out of their supports. "They started already?!" Masurao shouted watching the chaos from afar. "I have to warn the Pines." Tsukata declared gazing through his binoculars. The attractions gathered around the big castle at the center, including the viking ship that Imelda was trapped on, and formed into a giant robot. "Captain, I don't think we'll make it!" one of the employees shouted. "We've got to do it! No matter the cost, we'll show them all!" Tonkichi declared bravely as the castle bot faced the upright Medical Mechanica iron. "They may smooth out our brains, but they'll never smooth out our freedom! START THE ATTAAAAACK!" The castle robot launched everything it got at the giant iron, but nothing worked and the factory in turn blasted a giant laser that instantly burnt the opposing machine to cinders. -- Far above Earth, Arnold's inflated husk drifted out of the atmosphere and towards an Immigration Control Center satellite storing lost items. A mechanical hand snatched the balloon and tossed it down the chute to be scanned & later dumped into the old Gravity Falls junkyard which attracted the attention of a familiar-looking robot dog. "Well I'll be. Aren't you just the cutest little thing?" Older Man McGucket greeted the little mutt. "Hey I know you! You're that spindly johnny who followed the kids around!" The genius hillbilly scooped up some of the trash from the box it was dumped in, including Arnold's remains, and put it in a dog bowl for the canine machine to eat. "Eat up now little feller!" -- Back at the amusement park, Haruko was spectating the whole battle when she felt her stomach return to its normal size. "So they're still doin' it, huh?" she mumbled getting back to her entertainment when she saw a few familiar faces. "For the record, we already knew something was up long before you warned us!" Ford shouted to Kanda when he spotted Haruko. "Raharu! Can't believe I'm saying this, but we got a problem!" Along with the Stans, Tyrone, Dipper, Mabel, Wendy, Ian, Leia, Juan & Jorge, Abby, Ezra, Soos, Melody, a very angry Pacifica preparing to use a broken bottle as a shiv and Kanda was a now cybernetic Gwen glaring furiously at the Vespa Woman. "Lookin' good Gwennie!" Haruko complimented with a wolf whistle and a nosebleed. "You're really killing it!" Gwen didn't reply with her words, but instead with a gold battering ram launching from her robot arm. "Just so we can all reach a compromise, all of you are to blame for this!" Pacifica shouted tranquilly. "Whoa, hold on all y'all!" Haruko exclaimed avoiding the younger girl by jumping on the roller coaster tracks. "Stop it, I didn't do nothing wrong!" "BULL-FUDGING-SHIT RAHARU!" Stan cursed as Gwen followed his former partner preparing to use the other Mustang to help his great-great niece. "All I did was give you all a little nudge, reignited some old passions, helped you with your dreams, s'all!" "Give him back! Give Arnold back!" Gwen screamed continuously attempting to hit her. "Wah-ho! Guess the Pines still have quite a lot of fight in them!" Haruko exclaimed before she found Dipper, Mabel and Pacifica right behind her. "Give me back my son or else." Pacifica hissed arming herself with Jinyu's Jazzmaster. Before anyone of them could fight, Haruhara surfed away further up the coaster rails. "In the end, you're no different from the rest of us!" Gwen snarled leaping away from her family to give pursuit. "It's all because you're in love with that weird bird, right? You're just another girl stupidly in love!" "See, like I kept telling you Raharu! You can't force someone to love you!" Dipper agreed with his daughter. "Oh quit parroting Mason or I'll shove crackers down your throat to shut you up!" Haruko shouted to the Pines father before she noticed her bracelet starting to react to something amiss. "Huh?" "Uh, dudes!" Soos exclaimed gazing up at the reddening sky. "Is the multiverse going all kaput or am I thinking of some other cataclysmic event?" he asked cuing the others to look up as well. "No. Way." Ford & Kanda boomed in shock. Soon everybody important to the story gazed up at the sky and Haruko realized just who it was. "It's Atomsk." -- AT LAST, IT IS DONE! I started kinda late on this chapter, but it was all worth it to finally beat my deadline. What will become of the Pines family and friends? Will Haruko finally control Atomsk? Why does McGucket recognize that oddly familiar dog? Join us next time for the final chapter of Fooly Falls 2: Ride on Shooting Star and be sure to read my other works for more!

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