#she’s orange and blue !!! what’s not to like

[abby-howard]

I love everyone's outfits in Scarlett Hollow (especially Kaneeka's) so I wanted to ask how do you go about designing multiple outfits for each character that are different yet still fit that characters general aesthetic. Also do you have a favorite/least favorite outfit.

Aw thank you!!

Designing outfits is definitely not something that came very naturally to me at the start of Scarlet Hollow, but I've been gettin' the hang of it as I go-- I'd say a lot of it is about the vibe. I sketch a new outfit, and if it feels like they're in a costume, I scrap it. Color in particular gets tricky... one color can throw off a whole look and make them feel like their aura is off. Picking a palette in advance is a good idea!

I think it's mostly about understanding your character and the kinds of choices they make; Kaneeka cares a lot about how others view her, so she presents as very put-together, thus her outfits are always a little complicated and carefully constructed. Whereas Stella is laid back and probably hates having to think about what she's wearing, so she goes with roughly the same combination of jeans and a t shirt every day.

More of my rules for each main character under the cut! Minor spoilers for Scarlet Hollow:

I answered a similar question during an AMA, so I'm paraphrasing from those answers~

Stella: her shirt must match the theme of the episode while also being a believable cryptid/folklore t shirt design. She has a red/neutral theme, plus jeans. Butch sense of fashion with casual sensibilities.

Kaneeka: is a nu-goth, so no corsets or elaborate frills, and no techno-goth or scene/emo accoutrements. Her emo days are far behind her... so now she wears all black, no color besides her red braids, with interesting clothing shapes and the occasional lace or metallic accent. This is pretty close to how I dress so I just think about if it's something I would wear.

Oscar: he's a professional! So suits and button-ups, except his undershirt episode. He has a tan/yellow theme with unsaturated red accents, which he shares with his daughter Rosalina. His outfits are the toughest to mix up, because he dresses nice for work and only owns one suit. But I try to get creative where I can!

Avery: a plant theme, which includes mostly greens, with some purples, oranges, and earthy yellow allowed. Definitely has the widest palette, since they have to have interesting patterned button-ups. Can have a coat if needed, always tan, and nice dress pants that have a little bit of a bellbottom.

Reese: Wears whatever. A vague blue theme. Nothing looks like it fits him right. I have given him a cool jacket for Episode 5, but I can't post that sprite... too spoiler.......

[slut4christopherr]

— THE PARTY —

part five..

warnings: make out session, dirty talk, swearing (if there’s any more lmk)

summary: you guys arrive at chris’ secret destination, you and chris not in matt’s sight anymore, what could happen?

chris talking = orange

matt talking = blue

reader talking = pink

matt looks between the two of you, feeling increasingly uncomfortable.

“jesus, can you two stop flirting for like, five seconds?”

he mutters, clearly not enjoying the chemistry between you and his brother.

your eyes dart over to matt, seeing the pissed off look on his face.

chris just rolls his eyes at his brother’s comment.

“jealous, matt?”

he teases, his smirk growing wider.

matt glares at his hermano.

“you wish.”

chris chuckles, clearly entertained by their bickering.

“just admit it, you’re jealous i’m getting more game than you.”

you can’t help but laugh, the way them words came out of chris’ mouth tickled you.

both matt and chris turn their gazes towards you, surprised by your sudden laugh.

chris grins at your reaction, clearly pleased that you’re amused.

“see, she thinks i’m absolutely fuckin’ hilarious. right?”

he asks, his eyes locking on yours.

you nod, still giggling slightly.

“yeah, you are kinda funny”

matt rolls his eyes once again, still annoyed at the situation.

“can we please get going already?”

he mutters, gesturing for the three of you to continue walking.

5 minutes later..

as you three keep walking you approach a hotel, chris turns around and smirks, suggesting this is where you guys are staying tonight.

the exterior of the hotel looks fancy and expensive, clearly designed for the more upper-class clientele.

chris pauses in his tracks and turns around, a sly smile on his face.

“looks like we’re here.”

he says, gesturing towards the hotel.

matt groans at the sight of the hotel, clearly annoyed.

“seriously chris? a fuckin’ hotel?”

chris just shrugs, still grinning.

“what? It’s a nice hotel. and we’ll have some privacy, away from all the noise of the party.”

chris’ grin only grows wider.

“me and y/n have our own room anyways.”

chris tosses matt’s hotel room key to him.

“your on your own man.”

matt’s annoyed expression only grows more intense.

“you’re not staying in the same room as her, chris.”

he says firmly, his tone warning.

chris rolls his eyes, clearly unimpressed by his brother’s protectiveness.

“and why not?”

matt scoffs, clearly pissed off.

“because you can’t be trusted, that’s why.”

matt replies, his eyes narrowing

chris lets out an exasperated huff.

“come on, matt. have some faith. i’m not gonna do anything.”

you butt in, sick to the back teeth of their bickering

“cmon, matt, it’s fine, okay?”

matt looks at you, his expression torn between annoyance and concern.

“are you sure?”

he mutters, his eyes flickering over to his brother

chris just grins, clearly enjoying the situation.

you give chris a wink and a cheeky grin.

“yeah, m’sure”

chris’s grin widens at your expression, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

matt sighs, knowing he’s outnumbered.

“fine, but if anything happens—”

he warns, letting his threat hang in the air.

chris just waves off his brother’s threat, clearly unconcerned.

matt gives chris a final glare before reluctantly acquiesce, sighing in defeat.

“just be careful, alright?”

he mutters in your direction before turning and walking off to his own room.

as soon as the door shuts behind you, chris wastes no time in pulling you into a passionate kiss. his mouth meets yours hungrily, his tongue seeking out your own in an instant.

his hands grip your hips, pulling you closer to him, his body pressed tightly against yours. you can feel the heat radiating off of him, his desire for you clear in his every touch.

the heat inbetween your legs grows unbearable.

the kiss is intense, filled with a mix of lust and need. chris’s hands slide up your sides, tracing a fiery trail along your skin. his fingers tangle in your hair, gripping it tightly as he devours your mouth.

chris reluctantly breaks the kiss, his breathing heavy. he pulls his phone out of his pocket, glancing at the notification on the screen.

“it’s matt,”

he mutters, his voice thick with annoyance.

“what does he want?”

chris sighs as he reads the text message from his brother.

“he wants to meet up in the hotel lobby.”

he says, his voice tinged with frustration.

“probably just wants to give me a lecture.”

“oh, but chris. do we really have to go? cant we just stay here, i can tell you want it”

your eyes go down to his growing erection, straining in his pants.

chris’s eyes follow your gaze downwards, a small smirk forming on his lips as he catches you staring.

“you make a convincing argument.”

he murmurs, his hand coming to rest on your hip.

a/n: oh is it hot in here? or is it just after reading that because wooooo it’s getting steamyyy!! thank you sm for reading my other parts are pinned on my blog!! 🎀

taglist @ariastur9z @baileysturns @ishasturnz @sturns-mermaid @mattsbrowser @chr1sslvtt

[selanaris]

DC Superman type idea I had while driving

Collector type villain

Known as the Fan or something

Doesn't matter

They have never before been noticed in DC

Suddenly the league gets batman's emergency beacon super far in space, but batman was right here

The codes check out... including an extra three codes for batman

1. From a different universe

2. Already dead

3. Hostage situation, rescue immediately

Entirely, The Fan had been stealing people and relics from other universes to have his own collection. Specifically, he had his own Kal-el he took as an infant from another universe, without superman that universe perished.

The Fan proceeded to raise this Kal-el to be the perfect guardian to his own collection

This including Kal-el being trained by an alternate Wonder Woman, alternate Ras al Ghul, and most recently an alternate batman

When training is complete, the alternate is killed. Batman got the distress beacon out just in time before his death.

Rescue situation is... tense... very tense

Needs to be hella planned, by batman himself who had secretly more info from the past batman while searching around the trash shoot.

Superman goes in alone to see a young teen superman in all black with red, blue, and yellow accents. He was barely older than Jon. He had large black gauntlets on with green veins on them, kryptonite.

Fight fight

Comes down to that Kal-el calling the Fan his father, refusing to leave, and the Fan demanding that they leave or else he will doom this universe just like he did the last...

To which... Kal-el freezes, "But... you said I was the last universe you visited..." all of his world crumbles below him and in a fit of rage at Fan's excuses, he swings to it before getting hit with kryptonite.

In this moment batman swings in with the phantom zone gun sending the Fan away.

Wonder woman arrives behind batman to free the young Kal-el who's eyes are burning orange-red. She removes his gauntlets to see his arms flaming red, melting the metal it touches (he looks like the absolute superman, but younger and smaller)

They take him back to the watch tower where he refuses to talk to them... except for batman... he explains that alternate wonder woman and Ras al ghul have tried to kill him in his training, but he killed them in defense... but batman... refused to hurt him... cared for him... and the only one to hug him... when he refused to kill him... the Fan tortured him with kryptonite until he did

He's confused, and hurt... he's told he's supposed to be Kal-el, but he was forced to watch one universe after another, see Kal-el, see superman. He was supposed to be superman... but he did not feel like superman.

He takes a different name for now, Kal-nil, or just Cameron.

He's lost... unsure what he wants to do... if anything at all... but he wants to see the sun... feel the grass

[kwekstra]

The Tale of the Matryoshka Gender Reveal

So picture this: You’re in your garden. Your wife is pregnant. Your husband is making burgers on the grill. It’s the gender reveal party. Your mother is there to watch. Your sister in law has organized everything. She brings you a balloon. You stand in front of everyone with your wife and your husband, and you pop it.

Inside, you find another, slightly smaller balloon. You pop it as well, and find an even slightlier smaller balloon in that one. This repeats ten times. Your mother is outraged. Your sister in law is confused. You pop one more balloon and finally find a cupcake inside. You know how this goes. You bite into it. It’s army-issue green inside. It’s a detonator, and a pipe bomb goes off nearby, setting your fields of dry brush on fire. It sends shrapnel and confetti into the air. The confetti is white, with black text on it. It says “come to the kitchen”.

Your sister in law is yelling at someone over the phone.

In the kitchen, there’s a bun in the oven. You check the color. It’s brown. Burnt, like the countryside. The fire alarm goes off. Its indicator light is red, which tells you nothing. As you stumble outside, you start to choke on the smoke. Your lips turn blue from lack of oxygen, but that’s just a coincidence. A message is written in chalk on your driveway. It says to look up. The sky is orange. California is burning. You see a skywriter rounding out its final letter. “Run”, it says, so you do. A fire engine careens past. Its lights flash blue, then pink. Net zero information – or maybe your kid is nonbinary. Your thoughts are interrupted by a deafening roar. A waterbomber plane flies past, dousing your fields. The water is dyed pink to keep track of the land it’s covered. Fluttering down with it, you see an ultrasound. You try to run and catch it but it’s too late; a rescue crew has arrived and they drag you into their truck. You’re carted you off to safety. Your answers burn off in the wind.

Hours later, you’re swaddled in a thermal blanket, watching the news in a crowded FEMA tent. It cuts to an aerial view of the farm where it all started. Your farm. It’s all burned away now. You’ll never know the gender of your child, but maybe that’s for the best. Maybe you were never meant to know. No matter what, though, you do know one thing: boy, girl, or other, your child will be the most expensive ecological disaster in American history.

As the flames spread across the country, you smile. Your teeth are stained with soot.

[sorrowmoons]

Detective On the Case

Detective Hawke is on the case. But she soon realizes that what she’s dealing with is far more dangerous than what she expected. Does she go off case, saving herself but maybe not her job? Or, stay, and soon realize what is waiting in store for her?

One shot for my Hatchetfield Au, Circus Inferno !! Willow Locke by @wigglyobsessedweirdo , Skye and Dakota by me. The Lords in Black rightfully belong to Starkid! NOT PROOFREAD!’

The circus thrummed alive… the murmur’s of the crowd quieted as the music begun. The soft violin noise dragged across the strings, an eerie silence fell after. The performers took place, their outfits adorned in puffy dresses. They glittered under the lights, a crystallized look to them. They began a slow walk to the middle, the violin playing once again. Their steps following the beat to the instrument. Slow and steady. Like an animal targeting its prey. A piano then accompanied the violin. The low notes vibrating the tent.

Skye watched, her eyes scanning the large circle pit in the middle of the circus. She watched as the performers, one male and one female, looked at each other in a longing gaze. They sure had a skill to show the emotions, connecting with the luring song.

Then; the male began to sing. His voice low and haunting. The girl turned away, an act of rejection. They played a beautiful scene of forbidden love. Eventually, the female singer cut into the song. Her saddened voice echoed through the tent.

People watched in Awe. Their eyes amazed at the scene, leaning in to hear the music invade their mind. Skye couldn’t lie—it was a beautiful performance. One that almost distracted her from her whole purpose of being here. Shaking her head, she looked around the crowd once more.

They seemed fine—simply amazed by the performance. Okay.. nothing suspicious so far. She brought her gaze up, above the audiences. Circled and spaced around the circus was.. Five booths. Each a different colour. Skye couldn’t directly point if that was of suspicion—as she had never been to a Circus before. But she eyed them closely. With a furrowed brow, she took notice of a shadowed silhouette in each one. The glassed windows of the booths seemed to be tinted, but it was still recognizable to see a figure residing in one. They seemed.. unmoving. Were these the infamous “lords” of the circus?

It has been noted that there are five founders of the circus. Theatrical and very skilled in what they do. But it was a shame they never came out of their booths, no? Not to meet the guests? They sure took advantage of their workers. It seemed they did all of their bidding.

But, regardless, it was noted that they have been spotted greeting guests for some shows. So.. why not this one? Was there a pattern to this?

Skye was almost too distracted to see a second figure inside one of the booths. But, her sharp eyes caught it. In the green coloured booth. On top of it was a large crown statue. Each booth had their own decorative pieces on top of their booth. The blue one had a mask, The purple one had a big eye, the orange one had a jesters hat, and the pink one had EHAT seemed to be large grinning lips.

But; her attention was grabbed back down to the performance. It seemed more performers had entered the stage. Dancers, circling the singing duet. Contortionists seemed to group together to symbolize with the singers with their unique flexibility. There was fire breathers when the time was right. It all created a symbolic performance. It was breathtaking it seemed. She looked to the crowd once more, the people sitting around her in the cramped chairs. But… something was off. They once had moved and conversed between one another. But now.. everyone sat still. Their eyes unblinking. They seemed to be in a trance as they stared at the performance.

Skye looked at an older man thay sat beside her. “Excuse me?” She asked, her voice quiet. But as he didn’t respond, she brought her hand up in front of their face, waving it. He didn’t budge. Her head turned, seeing as everyone was in this.. pause? But as she looked to the performers, they still sung and performed. But something was different. The stir of the crowd was no more—just the taunting melody of the violin and piano and singers that made their duet.

Skye stood, her eyes scanning around as she did. The cramped seating made it hard to maneuver as she tried to escape the row. It was made difficult by the unmoving occupants of the seats. She eventually made it out of the row, onto the isle. Releasing a sigh, Skye looked up at the booths. As she squinted, it seemed the bodies were unmoving as well. She debated her next moves—eventually descending down the carpeted isle towards the lower seats. As she did, her hand rested over her coats pocket. The crowd was still in its pause. What caught her attention was the green booth again. She noticed the second, smaller figure moved slightly. It seemed to be the only other figure that moved, Besides the performers.

She passed the last row of seats, closest to the short wall that blocked the viewers from the performers. Up close, the circle pit was do much bigger. It would take a while to circle around the whole thing. If there was anyone who took the chance to cross the small wall, it would take them a bit to get to the performers. It was doable—just a few feet to reach them—but theres for sure security to catch you first. It but… where are the security? It seemed there was none. Where did all of those little green workers go, in the green suits? She thought they would attend to watch it. But none were in sight.

But she looked up again, craning her neck higher now as the booth was more closer. She slowly inched her hand into her coat pocket, grabbing the item within. The music seemed to blare louder and louder. Her mind was far too focused on the green booth; and watching the movement within. But, what made her eyes slightly widen was when the figures movement stoped. Skyes senses blared a warning as if eyes were on her. She was spotted it seems. But right as the figure stoped their movement, a loud BANG made her dart her head to the source.

The two actors in the middle, the original duet, seemed to be lying in each others grasp. but in the woman’s hand, held a gun to the man’s back. It was a theatric scene that the forbidden lovers would die together. The actors went still, and the lights and music died down. But, what made Skye jump was the sudden burst of cheers. The crowd howled and roared, their cheers thundering the tent. Skye quickly took her hand out of her pocket, ditching the handgun within. She looked around, seeing as the crowd seemed to just have.. resumed? Like nothing happened.

But what was the most terrifying of all to Skye was the sudden disappearance in people. She had remembered faces in seats that no longer occupied them. This wasn’t just one person—this was numerous people throughout the tent. People she swore she didn’t see move. Just..gone. She felt a little lost. Like nothing was making sense here. With furrowed eyes, she spun slowly in a circle—trying to gain some understanding. The loud noises of cheers and hollers echoed through her mind. She looked up at the booths once more—now all of them seemed to move. Slow moves, not making much of an effort to stand or anything of the sort. But—the green booth. The two figures obviously conversed. Then, eyes. The feeling of being looked at. A shiver ran down her. She knew she wasn’t safe here anymore.

“Thank you, thank you all!” A loud voice rang out. Skyes eyes widened. She looked to the voice—the girl. She recognized that voice. Upon looking at the face, albeit a little hard to determine due to the length between them—she has seen that face before. As if the girl felt Skyes eyes—the girl dressed in red looked to her. Their eyes met—and slight hesitation braced the ringleader. But she quickly regained herself. “We hope all of you enjoyed this extravagant performance. Remember! No dream is impossible to reach—as long as you are willing to reach for it!”

Skye took large steps up the isle, towards one of the five exits. This wasn’t just a case she would need to think on—something was clearly not right here. She needed to figure it out.

People started to exit their seats, stumbling to exit first. Skye was close to the exiy before a worker walked through. The same green suited worker who had confronted her earlier. She had trespassed a part of the circus, and the worker spotted her soon enough when she did. She had escaped the hands of the worker—having made her way into the circus. She could not have him seeing her.

With a sharp halt of the heel, she turned away. People nudged and pushed against her, trying to exit before the stampede of guests came hurling to the exit.

She pushed past people, planning on trying to escape through a different exit. But as she pushed by people, a hand grabbed her shoulder. She shook her shoulder away, looking to the culprit. But she eased slightly when she saw the finalist girl. The Ringmistress. Her hat was gone, but she remained in full attire.

“You shouldn’t be here, ya know.” She shorter girl spoke, taking a step closer. The crowd still pushed on, but making space for the ringleader as they gawked and whispered as they passed by.

“Why not?” Skye answered back, her voice questioning. Dakota took a moment, pausing. Her eyes seemed to look past Skye, up higher. A worried expression filled Dakotas face—but only for a moment.

With no warning, the ringleader pushed Skye on forward. Skye pushed back for a moment, but Dakotas gave her a daring look. Skye eased, but still on high alert I whenever the girl was leading her.

The two girls eventually made it to a small doorway. On the door read “Employees Only”. Dakota swung open the door, pushing Skye along into the room and slamming the door shut.

Skye looked around. It was an overstimulating scene—vibrant coloured furs, shawls, fabrics and carpets. Jewelry accessories strung up around the walls, along with small multi-coloured lights. A dozen large vanity mirrors lined one wall, makeup and the sort laid messily on them. No one seemed to be occupying this room yet.

“What are we doing here—“ Skye asked, but was interrupted by the girl.

“You CANT be here! Sooner than later.. they’ll find out.” Skye raised a brow at that. “Who?”

“Doesn’t matter! They are like blood hounds when it comes to sniffing out the ones who don’t belong here. I’m just surprised you weren’t eaten in the feeding—“ she cut herself short, eyes widening as she stared at Skye.

Skye looked confused, then worried, then confused again. “The—the what? the.. feeding?” Dakota hushed Skye. “Shh shh! Now you’re practically climbing into their jaws. Just—be quiet.”

“Excuse me?” Skye asked, a little taken aback.

“Sorry! Sorry! Just—I thought you’d be smarter to not show up here.” The girl said, her voice a little bit quieter this time.

“So I do know you from somewhere.” Skye said, getting her question answered. Dakota smiled slightly—but it quickly died down.

“Yes! We know each other. When we ran into each other in down town. Ya’ know, I never forget a face!”

Skye remembered that day. Skye had just gotten her head role as a detective in her field. She came across the girl when she was almost crushed by a large brick falling off of a rooftop. Skye had swooped in, having spotted the falling block just in time. After that, the talkative girl never left her side that day. But they both had a good talk. The girl had to leave later on—something to do with being hired for something. Oh what was her name… oh! Yes, it was Dakota.

“So you know there’s something weird going on here.” Said Skye, her eyes narrowing a bit.

“Okay, okay Sherlock Holmes. Don’t get too excited. You don’t know what going on here. But you SHOULD know that the powers who run this circus are far more dangerous than any handgun.”

Skyes yes widen, patting her pocket. It was gone. In the hands of Dakota, she swung around the gun. “Careful! It’s loaded.” Skye reached out. “How—when did you even get that?” Dakota giggled. “Clearly not the best detective, huh?”

Skye grumbled, eventually being handed back her handgun. But sudden knocking startled the both of them.

“Dakota! It’s me, Willow. Is everything alright?” Said the feminine voice outside. Skye stood, a little frozen on what to do. Dakotas eyes widened slightly, but she quickly snapped out of it and shoved Skye away into an overly cramped closet. “Ow!” Skye whispered-yelled as she was shoved into the closet. The doors slammed shut, Skye being engulfed in darkness. The itchy costumes scratched at her face.

She heard the door of the room open. Skye went still.

“Hey! Sorry, wills. Got distracted after the performance.” The voice of Dakota rang out. “You always come rushing up to the lords after the performance. Started to get worried that your usual freak wasn’t filling the room.” The unfamiliar voice laughed. Dakota cackled at that.

“Wills? Willow? Nothing rang a bell for Skye. But she continued to listening in—catching the rather peculiar term of “lords”. Who were they?

“Eheh. Be carful what you wish for! May just have been getting ready for THEM!” Dakotas voice responded in a flirtatious tone. Skye raised a brow in the dark of the closet. She heard the different voice scoff.

“Okay, okay, whatever. Just hurry up! I want to go watch Gilmore Girls with my dad like we always do afterwards. Helps him wind down after the feedings.”

“Okay! I’ll be right out in a jiffy!” Dakotas voice responded once more. The sound of a door closing alerted Skye. She looked up as the closets door opened.

“We gotta get you out of here.” Hands found Skyes arms, pulling her up and out of the closet. “It’s going to be a pain in the ass trying to avoid those delicious hunks of men. Oh well.”

Skye was more just.. confused. But, she was still a detective. She asked one question.

“The lords.. are those who you were referring to earlier?” Dakotas didnt respond. “It would be better the less you knew of this place. Nothing good comes to those who impose threats to this place.”

Dakotas pulled Skye to the door, swinging open the door. “We just gotta get you out without them seeing—OH SHI-“ Skye was pushed away from the door, practically falling into a wall. Dakota pulled the door closer to her, concealing the room behind her.

Skye was about to ask what was happening before a deep voice caught her ears.

“Hide what from who?” Dakota leaned against the door. “Oh—nothing. Hey cuties! Good show, yeah? Anyway—I gotta get changed.. out of this. I’m sweating like.. A TON! Heh—“

A pause. Then the same unidentifiable voice responded. Willow, was it?

“You are acting weird, koda.” While Skye couldn’t see what was happening, Dakota obviously was met with new people.

The five lords—and, also, Willow. They stood outside of the room. Dakota smirked up at them; a little clueless. But she swatted her hand. “Ppffttt! Aren’t I always?” She said, smug.

T’noy laughed. The rest seemed to all agree. She laughed—it was a weird tension.

“Anyways—my lovely husbands—“ “don’t call us that.” Wiggog said. Dakota continued on.

“If you would ever so kindly let me change—unless you wanna join—allow me to close this door to undress.”

The others stayed in their spots, unamused. Willow just cringed. “Hurry up, buttercup. We will be leaving soon. Troubles calling us.” Said Nibbly. Dakota winked at him.

“Of coursies!” She was about to close the door, before something stopped it. A tentacle thay appeared out of the wall of the circus. Dakota squeaked slightly, looking to wiggly—a small smile on her face.

“What are you hiding in there?” Asked Wiggog. Dakota tensed as all eyes landed on her. She laughed nervously.

“Aye—if you really wanted a peak of my own personal show—you could have just told me—“ but with no hesitation, Wiggog stepped up to the door, pushing it open. He towered over Dakota, as did the rest—besides Willow. She was just slightly taller than Dakota. The five lords followed after Wiggog, Dakota being pushed gently to the side by Wiggog. She looked to Willow, Willow looked back with a slightly worried and “what did you do” look.

But, there was no one there. Wiggog crossed his arms, looking around the room. The lords looked to Wiggog, questioning him with looks after they too looked around the room slightly.

Dakota was a little caught off guard by the absence of Skye. At the thought, She was convinced the girl was just a figment of her imagination. With a clueless look, she looked to the lords.

“All five, huh? Guess I have enough hole—“ “get out.” Wiggog spoke to his brothers. Dakota giggled as she opened the door wider for them.

Willow had her hands against her face. “Dakota, you nasty human being.” Dakota wiggled her eyes to Willow. “Are you ready for me to be your aunt and mom?” Dakota laughed, but it got caught in her throat at the various looks of warning from… all of the lords. She smiled, breathing out dramatically.

“One day.”

The door closed. Dakota seemed to have been saying her goodbyes to the lords, disregarding her changing. After a few minutes, Dakota walked back in. She looked around, confused.

She nearly screamed as Skye appeared out of fabrics thay hung on the wall. It seems there was some sort of.. hiding place there.

“Holy shit! You scared the crap outta me, girl.” Skye brushed off her coat, looking around to make sure no one was there. “Since when was that even a spot? Man, I didn’t even know bout that one.” Dakota grumbled, crossing her hands. Skye brought her gaze to Dakota.

“What and WHO were those guys? They were.. freakishly huge. Are they the lords? What are they doing to the circus and the people—“

“Calm down calm down! Fuck me, man. You need to give me a second to explain, bud.”

Skye gave a questioning look, but eventually listened to Dakota.

While Dakota have some answers, it only lead to more questions to Skye. But, that was dar from her worries. She needed to get out of this circus. A voice in her head was yelling at her to get out and not come back—bad another part was telling her to stay—and find out more.

[keeping-writing-frosty]

Cara and the Will-o'-the-Wisp

Chapter One – A New, Weird Home

In a home from a bygone era that sat perched atop what the locals called a Little Mountain which bordered an ancient forest that had been there longer than any memory of the collective consciousness of the locals and the natives before them, and despite its well-maintained appearance and landscaping, it looked old and craggy to most. Within this home sat a creaky staircase, nestled in the shadows of the early morning as the golden honey-light streamed through the old, dirty windows which did not affect its brilliance. Beneath the stairs sat an ancient, knotty-wood door, whose weathered surface felt rough to the touch. Its natural dark brown color seemed deeper and darker than any other she had seen before, however, to the young Cara, the door seemed to call and beckon to her, much like an enchanting siren-song, she could hardly resist the temptation.

All the while as the movers brought in the family’s boxes and furniture, Cara approached the small door with wide, mismatch-colored eyes: the one eye on the right was colored a light blue-green turquoise that her mother used to tell her that it looked like the ocean, while the other looked a deep brown-orange amber, which seemed to lighten or darken depending on the light.

As her parents ignored Cara with their attention focused on where things should go, she used all of her strength in her slender frame to pull the door open. Yet it only opened just past halfway before the rusty hinges stopped their creaking and refused to budge any further. When she peeked through into the darkness where wispy spider webs and dust clouded her vision, disappointment washed over her as all she found was an empty wooden box adorned with a faded Black Cat Cigarettes Logo. After she pushed the box aside, which stirred up another cloud of dust, caused her nose to scrunch up in response.

Cara was such a precocious, garrulous girl that all loved upon first impressions; whose mother, through some headaches, had grown to love her inquisitive nature. Almost like a deranged kitten in a way. Cara had discovered this perfectly hidden gem just after she pushed open the front door of her family’s new home for the first time. Though this unfamiliar place failed to provide even a single ounce of comfort that Oregon had in every tree, cloud, and blade of grass. Main simply didn’t have this comfort, this home-like feeling to her, not even a speck, a gram of it. Yet, still, it had a unique charm of its own, and Cara thought to herself, at least everything is new to explore.

“Give it time. It’ll feel like home soon,” mother told Cara on the plane ride.

“Maine will never replace Oregon but try to take in the best things about Mount Desert Island: the lush forest that would be fun to explore, so much snow during winter, and the newness of it all,” father tried to comfort her.

Cara didn’t think it would ever feel truly like home. As she temporarily lost interest in the compartment under the stairs, she exited out into the cool morning air. Where a chilly breeze blew off the ocean ruffled the leaves and brought with it a briny aroma so much like the breeze from home. When she finally took in the house, seemingly for the first time, Cara took it all in.

The building was capped with a tall, steepled roof which towered high above anything she saw in the small, nearby town called Haven Bay. It provided a spacious attic that Cara wished she could explore, as for decades it was used as storage. Having been refurbished into an apartment where a curious old man lived that introduced himself over that long move-in weekend. He called himself Jakub Kaczmarek, he explained he was Polish and explained that he used to be a marine biologist that worked at Miskatonic University and now trained his various cats to do tricks on command. Cara thought him an odd man. Finding out that if you spent more than five minutes around him, he was never short of a tall tale to tell. Much like a magical aura, he carried with him unconventional wisdom when he spoke. Jakub always reeked of cheap tobacco, and cheaper, bitter alcohol.

Over this long weekend, Cara found beneath the creaky floorboards was a wine cellar as ancient and dusty as the house above, which intrigued the twelve-year-old girl. With its flickering light bulb above her head, that cast shadows that danced and twirled about the crumbling crates and disused wooden barrels. Mid-room sat aged wine shelves which laid mostly barren, minus a few glass bottles with French-sounding names and a layer of dust thicker than Cara was wide. When asked, Mrs. Robyn Clarke, the landlady, reassured the family that anything which remained was no longer fit for consumption. That they could keep the bottles but would recommend tossing its contents.

Cara couldn’t understand why anyone would want to drink something so awful to begin with, wine was just awful in general. Her mother would indulge in wine she kept in that little wooden cabinet father made for just for. That would, more-than-likely, be moved down here as it was the perfect condition for aging wine, supposedly. To her, she always felt like something was watching her down here, that there was a constant pair of unseeing eyes that couldn’t keep to itself. Despite her curiosity, Cara never spent much time down here.

Nestled midway down the hill behind the manor, where the land slightly protruded before it sloped at a gentle angle down to the ground. Laid an ageless, well-maintained garden that seemed to hold a certain magic about it. With only one entrance through the shrubs and flowering bushes that surrounded the perimeter. A wooden sign proclaimed with pride that the garden was first designed and planted in the mid-1800s by a Louis Bennefield, which was almost as old as the house itself by a couple of decades. As she discovered later, Mr. Kaczmarek ended up being the tender to the garden now.

Yet the garden was beyond anything Cara had ever seen before. It had a certain natural majesty, weather-beaten trees which provided a protective canopy around the perimeter, not just for the delicate flowers and shrubbery, but for anyone who wished for just a moment, a break from all things, to sit down on a marble bench adorned with little baby-faced cherubs on each side.

It seemed to cast a spell on Cara, as when she sat down on the bench and watched the dappled shadows that the late morning sun created over all the delicate, vibrantly-colored flowers. While the trees overhead weren’t nearly as fragile as those whose leaves protected. These were robust, ancient giants: a dawn redwood that towered above everything, even the house itself, a gnarled Norway Pine, and several balsam firs. She only knew the names because of the small signs set in front of each. Eventually, she had to get up as her mother would be cross with her if she didn’t unpack her room.

Her bedroom was quite a bit larger than the one she had back in Arcadia, Oregon, and as she unpacked her boxes, Cara realized that it was the same size as her parents’ bedroom in their old house. This brought a bit of happiness, and her window overlooked both the garden, the forest that bordered the property, as well as a squat, single-level home, its faded white paint peeled over the years. With her window open, the sweet aroma of the flowers mixed with the fresh cut grass smell. That when she took a deep breath, her lungs were filled with such beauty.

As her stuff was put away, for the most part it would satisfy mother, Cara rushed down the stairs where her father called out for her to slow down. It didn’t matter, she was already on the bottom landing and through the front door in the warm, sweet-smelling day. Down the pathway that led past the garden, she ran her fingers through the top of the black-purple leaves of a barberry shrub, which stood toward the back of the garden just before the trail winded its way towards the edge of the property.

On her way to the forest, Cara wrapped her arms around her petite torso as a suddenly cool breeze came through as the wind shifted. At least they carried the sweetness of the honeysuckle bushes near that small house along the edge of the woods.

Off in the distance, perched on a long, gnarled branch, sat a small blue and black bird. Who whistled a song that enraptured Cara for just a moment. Before she pulled out her phone and took a picture of such a beautiful bird. She hummed to herself and continued along the path. Perhaps she could find a bit of happiness here.

As Cara came close to the porch of the small home, she shrugged to herself and stepped up onto it, which creaked and groaned under her weight. This was the home of the round-shaped landlord and her broadly shouldered husband Adam. Both were as unassuming as their home. In fact, she questioned herself as to why she came here, but Cara had seen a girl over here earlier. So, with a deep breath, she knocked on the heavy wooden door. No one liked knocking on someone else’s door.

“Oh no, don’t get up at all. I got it!” The voice of a girl came from behind the door. Followed by a solid click, then the door opened with a squeak. “Oh, hi,” she spoke rather bluntly, her broad green eyes cast a curious gaze, her hair were tight orange curls which bounced every time she moved. “Ah, ya the new girl that just moved into the main house, right?”

Cara’s reddish-blonde hair covered her face after she nodded and brushed it out of her eyes before she quipped, “yep!” After a moment she continued, “my name is Cara Quin. Nice to meet’cha.”

“I’m Rowan, it is good to meet ya as well, Cara,” the new neighbor expressed with seemingly utter sincerity.

A grinning smile lit up Rowan’s well-defined, angular face, she invited Cara to come inside with a wave of her hand and stepped to the side. As soon as Cara stepped in, the cold, almost icebox like air, caused goosebumps to raise upon her arms as the AC overworked itself with a hum that seemed to come from within the walls.

Within the modest living sat an old worn-out couch, its brown fabric threadbare and whose springs squeaked and boinged with each movement. Across from it sat an older HDTV which played some cartoons that no one paid attention to. Splayed across the couch, and parts of the coffee table, sat lanky obviously twin brothers: Steven, the one with shoulder-length orange hair much like his sister except without the curls, while Sam had a short, almost military-style haircut cut down nearly to his scalp, and seemed quite new. Both were seventeen and far-too-cool for Cara and her inquisitive, twelve-year-old nature. They roosted like lazy birds, faces buried in their Nintendo Switches without a single word uttered between them even as a new person entered their home.

Cara followed her new-found friend past the boys and their loud games, which blended with the distant hum of the television. Where they entered a narrow hallway off to the right, bathed in the soft, artificial glow of a dimly-lit overhead light. Off to the right, a bathroom where the unappealing aroma of too much cheap room spray wafted from within. To the right, a door with a neon-yellow caution sign on it that proclaimed for no one to enter, especially any boys.

Once inside, Cara was greeted by a kaleidoscope of visual delights. Dozens of posters adorned the walls, showcasing female soccer players in mid-action, fierce and elegant at the same time, their faces caught in moments of determination all frozen in times. Interspersed and mixed in were the familiar faces and art of beloved musicians and bands, smiles captured in all their glossy details. Which the one Cara knew the best, and was her favorite band, was Tegan and Sara. In all of their glorious eighties-like style, or from what she assumed. In the corner covered in what Rowan would later call, “organized chaos,” sat a desk with a laptop sitting open that cast a gentle blue hue on everything around it. While a cellphone, plugged into its charger, played a soft song that Cara didn’t recognize. Stacked on a small table under a lamp beside the bed was a collection of well-loved, frequently-read, creased young adult fantasy novels, their colorful spines whispered tales of adventures and escape.

“Let’s chill. You can get comfortable and all.” Rowan smiled and plopped down on her bed

Cara thanked her and moved to sit beside the quite tall girl. “So, how old are you?” She inquired.

“Twelve.”

“Oh, that’s frickin’ awesome. I turned twelve this past April. So, wow, you are just really tall! I dig it.”

“Oh yeah. I am almost as tall as my brothers. I’m going to be huge! I can’t wait, but yeah. My birthday is February twenty-night. I’m a leap year, baby!” She touted arms raised high, which caused mirth to rise up in both of them into a short bout of laughter.

Eyebrow cocked, Cara asked, “Wait, so you only celebrate your birthday every four years?”

There came another laugh, a good-natured warming sound. “No, usually the twenty-eighth. Though it was nice to celebrate it on the correct day, for once.”

“So,” Cara dragged on the word for a moment. “I am going to assume ya like soccer.”

“Love it. I’ve played my whole life. Do you play?”

“A little here and there, but nothing truly competitive. I’m not the most athletic.” Cara stretched her noodle-like legs out in front of her. “A friend of mine back in Oregon played a lot. Would be rad to learn how to play better, though.”

“Hell yeah. I’d love to play and teach you more,” Rowan enthused.

Cara added. “But, until then, is there anything interesting ‘round these parts?”

A pensive look took Rowan for a moment as a silence hung between them. Until she bit her bottom lip as if she wanted to speak but was afraid of how Cara would react. “Okay, I don’t want you to think I am weird, but this place is very old and, well, weird place, you know? I’ve lived here in this house my entire life. Wanna see some cool shit, though?”

Shooting up with a start, Cara exclaimed, “hell yeah! Oregon had some cool places to explore, but we didn’t have a forest like this. At least, not close enough to explore all the time.”

Rowan stood up, and it was the first time Cara noticed how tall her new friend truly was. Easily she was a head-and-a-half taller, if not more. Mostly legs, one could almost think she was a basketball player. She was shaped normally, just lanky and tall. “A few dope places, you know? They have a vibe I just”—she shrugged her broad shoulders—“can just center myself in. If that makes any sense.”

Yet before the pair left Rowan’s bedroom, she stopped and turned to look at Cara. “I don’t want to be rude or anything. Just wanted to say that your eyes are unique and very pretty.”

A rosy crimson lit up Cara’s pale complexion who found her words flustered and hard to vocalize. “T-thank you very much.”

“They are awesome, cool, and I know we just met, so I hope this didn’t come off as weird or cringe or anything.”

Cara was used to people staring at her because of her differently-colored eyes. Usually by creepy-looking adults, or kids who were just going to make fun of her. “Thank you,” Cara mused, the smile on her face grew ever wider.

After Rowan locked her bedroom door and checked its security. She led Cara outside just as a strong wind kicked up leaves, flower petals, and grass clippings into a swirling current that flew off out of the yard towards the forest. Cara was led by her new friend to past the tree line.

A few steps into the woods, where it darkened, Rowan held a sly smile across her angular face, leading Cara into a grove surrounded by a copse of red cedars and sugar maples. Long ago, as Rowan explained, some force arranged the large stones and boulders in an almost geometric pattern that dotted the roundish grassy knoll that sat middle of the grove.

“They say a coven of witches used to practice their rituals here,” Rowan explained as she hopped onto an old tree stump covered in moss as she sat and watched Cara.

Beyond intrigued, Cara examined every rock and stone, ran her fingertips across the rough surfaces—some were moist from the dew, still others sat bone dry. There, just outside the semi-circle, stood one in particular. After a long several minutes of examining the rock, that’s when Cara saw a face on the rock. Painted upon it many years ago, now almost completely faded.

“Oh-ho-ho,” Cara hummed and rubbed her hands together. “You were right.”

When Cara looked over at her new friend, who seemed so much like a goddess of the forest on her stump throne. She said, “This is wonderful. Truly a magical place. I can almost feel it.”

“Some years ago,” Rowan began, knee pulled up to her chest. “Sam was acting like a complete ass. Though, I don’t remember ‘bout what. So, I ran into the forest, and I remember crying. I just so happened upon the grove. It was autumn and everything was so colorful. I remember that more than anything else.”

“Then I crumbled to my knees and buried my face in my arms on this stump, just weeping and crying and snotting about something. Then when my tears eventually dried up, and I was without words, ya know? The stones, man, just caught my attention. I know I studied each one for seemingly hours. Before the twins came to find me and hung out with me. Sam apologized, as he always does.” Rowan let out a long-held breath as she propped her chin on her knee.

She stood up and pointed back towards the trail. “Wanna go check something else out, yes? It isn’t too far away and it’s a even better spot than this place,” Rowan suggested as she got up from the stump.

The trail was well-maintained and had to look of being well-trodden. Hanging over the trails was large, gnarled limbs that held bright green, healthy leaves not yet affected by the forthcoming autumn. Around the biggest tree Cara had ever seen, and behind a rough, natural boulder sat a large fairy ring where the canopy had thinned out just enough to let the sun filter through. The ring was so large, Cara and Rowan could lay on the soft grass in the middle of the ring and still have plenty of space to not touch any of the squishy little, brown-speckled mushrooms, which stunk when accidentally crushed underfoot.

Despite the rather unique and pretty godawful smell, Cara had to resist every fiber within her that wanted to take one home and put it in an old aquarium to see if it would grow. Images of her mother exploding in quite the physical and literal and verbal sense if she even tried to do so, or even if Cara just wanted to dry them out on the windowsill and keep them between the pages of an old book. She still might do so anyways. Just the image in her mind’s eye caused a giggling laughter to emit from Cara.

Parsing her lips, Rowan cocked a thin eyebrow. “What’s up?” She inquired.

Cara found it hard to talk as she snort-laughed, she choked out, “s-sorry, sorry. Hehe. Just thought of something funny and stupid. Something my mom would say.”

But their adventure wasn’t done yet. When Rowan finally got up from the wet grass, Cara followed in step beside her. Further down the trail into the woods, they came across an ancient stone well built by many hands lost to time long ago with craggy and misshapen stones. Green-blue moss, and algae that matched rainbows just after a fresh, summer rainfall, decorated the structure. While an old wooden roof-like structure bleached from years of exposure, looked as if it held a coil of rope and a bucket at one-point years past. There off to the side, slightly hidden among the weeds, sat a broken lever, forgotten and discarded.

On top sat firm and unmoving a heavy stone lid which kept everything out, and despite Cara’s growing strength, the lid would not budge. Much like the green-brown toad that sat upon it, toward the back end. Which croaked its displeasure with a simple ribbit.

“Yeah, if I can’t push it off. You can’t.” Rowan hopped up onto the rough stone lid and dangled her legs off. Her boots almost touched the ground, and when Cara sat beside her, their knees touched for only the briefest of moments.

“It’s kind of gross to think people drank out of that,” Cara did her best to not think about how Rowan’s touch felt. The toad gave one last croak and jumped off, burdened with an expression of such disgust. “Can you imagine what lives in the water?”

“Toad water.” Rowan scrunched up her button nose. “This is such a cool place. There’s one last thing I want to show you today. Before my mom starts yelling for me.”

“My mom would just send a text demanding I come home.”

Rowan scoffed, “I hate that they think they can control us because we’re—“she held up her hands and air-quoted—“kids. We’re almost teenagers.”

“I fear my mother would be even more of a pain once I turn thirteen.

A short, “hah,” came from Rowan. “Phones don’t work that well out here anyways. So, what is she going to do? Must be all the trees, I reckon.”

“What else would it be?”

Rowan shrugged. “No idea.”

The rough stone of the lid scratched at her denim jeans when Cara pushed herself off. “What other cool shit do ya got to show me?”

The smile that adorned Rowan’s heart-shaped face grew ever brighter. “The coolest thing of ‘em all.”

Further down the trail sat an old wooden sign planted into the soft ground with its words etched into the roughly-hewn surface that gave directions to Haven Bay just a couple of miles through the woods. Thick, ancient tree limbs seemed to form an arch that crossed over the trail. Roots jutted out of the ground, with spider-like almost-legs covered in moss, and if you could crawl through them, seemed much like a portal to somewhere else.

Despite the sun that hung high above head, the thick canopy kept out almost all of its warming rays. Which fostered an atmosphere thick with moisture and allowed a lingering chill to float on the almost stagnant air, which made sense to Cara with all the bogs that could be found just to the east, or so Rowan explained. While the earthy, almost lovely, aroma of toadstools and those musky fiddlehead ferns, underlaid with the constant sweet scent of decaying undergrowth, seemed almost magic. There was no absence of life here, birds sung their summer melodies and small animals rustled just out of view but not out of range of the girls’ ears. If someone told Cara this was heaven, she’d have no complaints or arguments.

When Rowan took Cara’s hand, the softness of her touch surprised Cara as it contrasted so much with the obvious strength within said hand, and Rowan led the way toward a rather massive tree stump that seemed far, far older than the forest itself. As if the tree was the first of its kind. Seemed so much different from the one in the grove—this stump seemed so much grander and beyond greater. At one point many eras ago, a gigantic tree towered above all others, and it knew. It almost reminded Cara of an actual throne, where the real Queen of the Forests sat, she sat here and surveyed her domain.

With an impressive leap, Rowan jumped on top of the stump with steady dexterity. Her pants pulled up a bit to show off her mismatched socks, both deliberate and somehow accidental. As she spoke, her voice lifted in a lilting tone as she almost whispered, “this place is magical, isn’t it? Something’s here, isn’t there? I can feel. Don’t you feel it? I’ve always felt a connection to this place on a level that’s hard to explain.”

Rowan looked down at Cara, a look of surprise and almost disbelief held the smaller girl’s features.

“I know what it sounds like. Like I am crazy.”

Cara shook her head. “Not crazy.”

“The twins both talk about going to college, moving away, seeing the country and the world, but me? At one point my dream was to play for the US women’s soccer team. Maybe to play for some prestigious club, but nowadays? I don’t know.”

The tall girl reached up to take a long, three-pronged leaf off of a tree, tossing it into the air where and unseen and unfelt breeze took it away on a short trek to the ground below. There existed not a single doubt in Cara’s mind that this place was special. Yet something about it spoke to Cara, but it was in a language she didn’t speak. Not yet.

“Thank you.” Cara intoned in almost agreement.

Rowan turned to look down at the girl that seemed so far below her. “For what?” she questioned as curious as she was .

“Thanks for trusting me and sharing your favorite spots.” Cara smiled and buried her hands in her pockets.

Cara climbed onto the stump to sit on the edge, with Rowan sitting beside her. They sat there in silence as the surrounding forest went about its day. The day seem so alive, even if it just looked as if they were nothing but trees. A comfortable air came between the girls so fast and quickly. Comfortable was the best way to describe the two. And Cara felt just a bit more accepting of her new, weird home.

*****

Tagging: @fablesandfragments @seastarblue @vesanal @theink-stainedfolk

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[nenoname]

stan breaking the trust his most favourite people in the world had in him and fixing it by punching a slit eyed monster

[birdmenmanga]

A while ago I received a beautiful painting of Eishi in the mail from @kitsoa!! I've been meaning to post pictures of it but I so rarely have physical objects I wanted a proper photoshoot to do it justice <3

When I first saw this I was absolutely blown away by the colors. These magenta-maroon hues aren't ones I associate with urban cityscapes at all and yet it's beautiful and dreamlike. There are a lot of poignant moments of loneliness in this series and this piece really captures that feeling, in my opinion. I almost feel like crying when I look at it sometimes. Kitsoa just has a way with color I can never hope of coming close to; I often look at her artworks and think, "Ah, her brain's just wired in a fundamentally different way from mine." (NOT a lamentation btw-- I consider it a blessing that we are put on this earth to show each other pictures of that which the other could not conceive of)

I have it up on my wall with sticky tack (didn't want to put tape on the front in case it got damaged when I inevitably have to move away) and I look at it all the time. I love it so much!! Thank you!!

[mc-tummy-blur]

Serious Lightbearer DLC fanart this time featuring another iDKHOW song SATANIC PANIC

As it’s based off of this picture of Dallon Weekes (creator of iDKHOW):

Click for better quality

Check my pinned post to see links on how you can help the people of Palestine

[adriartts]

this network of mycelium

[mantisgodsdomain]

Red/green colorblind Hornet. Thinks she's blending in to Greenpath. She is not.

[crow-quet]

moonpaw redesign just dropped

[volfoss]

i would like to find a yarn color that is roughly close to this shade of orange:

as the doll is going to be using dark blue eyes and the contrast would look pretty good (ty to my friend for helping me narrow down colors here lol) but well. you would not believe how hard it is to find a more muted light orange. i have been to specialty yarn sites. if i did either of the two multi-colored yarns, it would be for highlights/still mostly orange just with other tones in there :) if u have specific opinions on this please comment bc good god i hate yarn shopping for this.

[combatmelodies]

what colour is your aura?

blue

blueberries, canals, gatorade, denim jackets, stationary, coastlines, bluebirds. your essence is blue: you are as deep as the seas, but sensitive to the slightest ripple. you attach meaning to your emotions; they guide you, but also blind you to how things truly are. you act misunderstood but shy away from telling anyone who you really are. you are the poet. you are the sorrower. you find kinship in like-minded individuals of sky, navy, mauve, and jade, who share your need for authenticity. you are also drawn to the self-actualizing green and orange, who will help you grow and open up during hardship. however, you may struggle to get along with the linear personalities of grey and red who seem overly focused on structure.

stolen from @abanbas !

tagging: @divinelght @onewithweave @dreamsevered @t4mpered and YOUUU!!!

[archengazelle]

i stopped watching toh at “eclipse lake”/“yesterday’s lie” last year; started rewatching a couple days ago, and just caught back up, and—

—literally 30 seconds into s2ep12–

THEY JUST MADE THE CANON AROACE CHARACTER AN ASSISTANT CURATOR OF (SUPER)NATURAL HISTORY?!?!????!?! I SCREAMED

[moeblob]

Right in time for bad weather to roll in!

There's a game on the Vita that I adored because you created both your character and also a second character that followed you around. (in that game, you're a little fella and your secondary is basically your babysitter who can't feel emotions and is programmed to be not be fond of you)

On many consoles, there's another game where you create your character and also create a secondary and it's very much your first in authority. (Arisen and Pawns? Multiple people knew of the game when I posted fanart of my silly duo so.)

However, there's tragically a third game I found in which you also have two characters and the first one is a fella, a hooman... and the second is AI. And absolutely adores you. Buuuut I made my primary a kind of indifferent fella named Adam and then in honors of the first one I mentioned, I named my secondary 'sqlmn' which is basically pronounced 'salmon'. Which is what my angy babysitter was named, Salmon.

Anyway I'm too embarrassed to admit which game I'm playing so have fun guessing!