#sometimes vesper writes

[cryptidcalling]

Vesper thoughts; Late Night Swim (Please read the tags for CW before opening)

Sometimes, when it's late at night and he can't sleep, Vesper will go for a swim in the Citadel's private pool. Technically it's Pansa's, but Vesper uses it far more often. He keeps the overhead lights off, just turning on the ambient lights beneath the water, setting them to a soft pink. The water is cold at night, since he never bothers to turn on the heaters. He lowers himself in slowly and launches off the side with his feet, dipping below the water and silently swimming across the length of the pool. He touches his fingertips to the opposite wall, comes up for a breath, and then launches off again. He lets himself get lost in the rhythm of it, almost meditative as each gasp for breath and soft splash fills the otherwise silent room. He'd struggled with swimming when he was young. He'd never seen so much water in one place before, and he certainly couldn't imagine being able to move your body through it. He hadn't been the only cadet who couldn't swim, but he still wasn't willing to be left behind, learning this basic skill as others got to start the real training. He took up every second of pool time he was allowed to. The number of times he'd almost drowned was over half a dozen. It never stopped him. Tonight he swims with grace, barely perceptible in the dark, pink water. On one wall of the pool room is a massive window overlooking the city of Starport. Lights glimmer from below, but up above the jagged silhouette of skyscrapers is a clear view of the night sky. Three moons shine brightly, surrounded by the pinprick light of stars. Vesper lets it interrupt his focus, gliding to the edge of the pool and staring out. The city is always alight, never sleeping, alive with the constant flow of power thanks to Stardust, the lifeblood of the Empire. He's not unlike the city, in that way. As his gaze turns up towards the sky, he gets a familiar feeling in his chest. It feels like someone is pulling him, like there are two strong hands wrapped around his ribs tugging him out toward the sky. The tightness spreads up into his neck, feeling as if there's something lodged there, words he does not know trapped in his throat, desperately needing to be called out. He tries to follow the feeling, let the words free, but there's nothing. He remains silent. Finally, he pushes away from the wall and treads water in the center of the pool. If he looks closely at the water he can almost convince himself that it's reflecting the sky. Vesper takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He lets himself sink. He can feel it when his back makes contact with the floor. He looks behind him, but nothing is there. Stretching infinitely in all directions is the cold, eternal void of space. His hair flows up above him with no gravity to hold it down. Beyond him is a field of stars, trillions all clustered together, sisters lighting up the otherwise desolate stage in a glittering crescendo of flame and color. For a moment their magnificence is all he can comprehend, and he releases the knot in his throat in a silent, awestruck breath. Bubbles emerge from his mouth and float up and away.

Their beauty reaches his soul, but their warmth is inaccessible at this distance. The void's cold prickles against his skin. His fingers buzz like static, and when he finally brings them up to his face they're a bright pink. With a twitch, his fingertips break away into shimmering Stardust. There's an odd feeling in his chest again. It's different now, not being pulled away but rather crushing in on itself. It feels tight and uncomfortable, constricting his lungs and pressing hard against his bones. He watches as more of his hand disintegrates and floats away from him. It doesn't hurt much. It's prickly and uncomfortable, but then it's just numb. Maybe it will spread across his whole body. That wouldn't be so bad really. He could stay here forever that way. The pressure has turned into pain. It's crushing his lungs, traveling up his esophagus and winding around his throat. It hurts. He wants the light to spread faster, to reach his chest and turn it to dust so the ache will stop. He'll be at rest, his body turned to Stardust, the lifeblood of the Empire. The Empire. Vesper opens his eyes. He breaks the surface of the water with a crash and is able to make his way to a ledge, resting his weight against it as he violently coughs and gasps for air. It takes him several minutes to finally catch his breath. He's tired, and he's freezing, but he feels more at ease than he had before. He gets out and dries himself off, changing into some very comfortable pajamas, a gift from Pansa. He returns to his quarters and crawls back into bed. The covers are soft and warm. Feeling cozy and exhausted, he finds it easy to drift off to sleep. He dreams of stars.

[roguestorm]

I love how inconsistent Batman canon is. Like. It’s canon that Bruce shows up to work every single day bright and early in the morning. It’s also canon that Bruce hasn’t been in his office in over a year and the workers there barely recognize him. Like. How involved is Bruce in his office life? No idea! Pick what you think makes the best story!

[deadrlngers]

— WIP DAY

tagged by @risingsh0t thank you so much alyssa mwah <3

tagging: @arklay @morvaris @nuclearstorms @devilbrakers @uldwynsovs @girlbosselrond @faarkas @galacticvales @indorilnerevarine @camelliagwerm @denerims @reaperkiller and anyone other cool writer mutual that would like to share a wip but i'm a clown and forgot to tag

pushing forward my italian fenix agenda in this one, be warned

“There’s I love you and then there’s ti voglio bene.” He began explaining, one of his playful smirks acting as a frame to pretty confusing words. “It’s like– I care for you, I want to see you happy, I wish you all the good in this world, I–” A brief pause. His chin rested on the palm on his hand now, a sour expression telling Vesper – which didn’t dare to pull her gaze away from Fenix, not even for a moment – how bothered he was from the lack of a clean and straight translation. “It’s difficult to explain, believe me. Thing is…Love? Passes, it goes away very easily. What I call ‘bene’? That’s what sticks, or at least it leaves way more hardly.”

Audacious, that’s how Vesper replayed his reasoning in her thoughts, and that, by extension, made his previous question audacious as well; yet Fenix didn’t look fazed, nor shy or a touch embarrassed – and not of the bad kind, but the type of embarrassment of a first ‘I love you’ muttered to someone special. No, he looked positively neutral, as if he just talked of the weather or the latest news.

“Let me ask again now.” His previous smile disappeared as quickly as a snap of fingers and suddenly, other than unlikely to ever happen, Fenix appeared to be the most serious man on earth. “Mi vuoi bene?”

Silence, a matter of a few seconds that felt like hours nonetheless. “Do you? For me?”

Deflecting. Not surprising. “I asked first.”

“I say let the native speaker have the honour.”

Fenix unchained a short, amused chuckle he tried to supress as best as he could. He’s a serious man after all, or at least he tries. He shook his head, a side to side movement of enamorment, and tapped the butt of his beer bottle a few times against the concrete once more. “Yes.”

“What’s that thing you say?” Vesper hummed, unconsciously allowing the back of her boots to hit the wall in time with his glass tapping. “One word is not much, but two are too many?”

A grin tugged upward their features as they shared a knowing look. How good it felt to be noticed. In every single idiotic thing he ever said as well. In thirty years, hopefully, they would still remind each other of the useless stuff the other forgot about. “Your turn.” He pressed on, focusing back on what was his true aim. An unwillingly admitted truth.

Vesper’s eyes wandered off into the skyline of Night City: she pondered the question with a palpable uneasiness – nose scrunched up in the usual bothered fashion and lips pressed tight. Far too easy to tell how she despised any inquiry that investigated too deep into her mind and pushed her, back facing the wall with no way to escape, into voicing elaborate emotions she had no intention of acknowledging. Instead Fenix leaned forward, still holding the edge of the parapet with choking anxiety for the dizzying height of the building. Expectant, and too eager to hear her speak.

With a tilt of the head she gathered her thoughts like futile trinkets one needs to throw away, and shaped them into words. “I think at some point I did stop loving you, back then.” Vesper admitted with a thin line of somber voice as she recalled the past.  She didn’t bother with more justifications, more words; explanations at this point, between them, would be a mere show of barking at the moon – a cussing in vain. “But I guess I never stopped…” a hum followed and her eyes met again with his curiously yellow-green coloured ones “that thing you said, already forgot the word.”

Oddly, as Fenix could never manage to stay quiet for too long when he had material to perform his insufferable tricks of provocations, he kept silent for a moment. Just enough to let the words sink in, that pinch of sweetness and bitterness alike.

“Then repeat after me.” He proposed with a newly blossomed smile. Vesper rolled her eyes but she turned slightly her torso to the side anyway: to face his stupidly handsome face better and don’t miss one single movement of his unbearable lips. For language learning purposes, of course.

Student now ready to be taught, he began. Ti. Repeat. Voglio. Repetition, just like a parrot. Then an abrupt stop.

“Yeah, that can be enough too.” Fenix’s smile was too arrogantly smug now for Vesper’s tastes, but she preferred to ignore any more Italian teaching for the night."

[boopshoops]

ITS FINALLY DONE

40 hours of work- just around 200 peoples ocs in the twst community (as such there may be some small mistakes on my end and sometimes i couldnt find refs with all the colors so i did my best!! Honestly im sorry if i missed you too even if its impossible for me to get every single person HFNDJXDHV)

Nothing can quite describe how welcomed ive felt in this community. I find myself always wanting to give back to my moots, followers, or even just other members in the community in general.

SOOO ive been slowly chipping away at this for the past few months. Consider this a gift! And uh, have fun finding your ocs/yuus-

Group photo tags pt1

@thehollowwriter Finn

@rizdoodls Andy

@sakuramidnight15 Hei-ran

@cruel-acid Iza

@raguiras Allen

@oya-oya-okay Yuu and Shishio

@tedearaminta Riona

@zjmaeve Zeth

@akemiozawa Charlotte

@twsted-princess Chimlim

@akihikosanadasboyfriend Yuuma

@tinisprout Yurelle

@valse-a-mille-temps Yuuven

@yaoyaobae Fran

@cosmonavo Gwen

@simpingseafood Sasha

@nuitthegoddess Aurelian and Hana

@cenpede Vitya

@tixdixl Oisín

@tartppola Yuu

@the-trinket-witch Albert and the janitor

@kenchann Yuu

@egophiliac Yuu

@raven-at-the-writing-desk Miss Raven

@adaven17 Yuu

@cecilebutcher Vesper and Igor

@miyuki-fenn Désiré and Mel

@polywoo Misdemeanor

@myuminji Yuu

@zvezdacito Micah

@citrus-c0la Oliver

@datboredpencil Mao

@prinxurie Zuzhou and Jiushu

@robo-milky Cloche

@starry-night-rose Ellis

@bloodiegawz Yuu

@artfulhero-m Aster

@justm3di0cr3 Emory and Poppy

@ai-kan1 Juno

@the-fridge-orange Elinor

@breadcheese444 Lily

@fumikomiyasaki Carol and Yuzuha

@ceruleancattail Cinder and Ceru

@ashipiko Ashi

@elektrosyntetik Anya

@veilofthorns Kissy

@terrovaniadorm Rhys and Ulrica

@midostree-art Yuu

@lanshappycorner Roseline

@midnightmah07 Daisy

[eldritch-spouse]

Hi, I'm very new to this blog, so I don't really know your OCs. I found you because of "Cuntress HIM" lol, my current hyperfixation.

I do have a question, though ; how would your characters (any of your choice) react to noticing an artistic s/o drawing them ?

Howdy! 👋 Glad you liked Cuntress Him, I had fun drawing it.

From all of my characters, the monsters who would enjoy an artist the most are Shags, Vinnel, Vesper, Mervin, Krulu and Vorago.

Shags would all but wheeze in excitement, the possibility of collaborations between the two of you sending him over the moon. Just the thought of a piece made by both your hands has him swooning. Why didn't you reveal this to him sooner? How could he not have seen the artist in you?

Vinnel's art is the more practical type. The most painting he does is usually mask work and small details to obfuscate solutions to puzzles. He'd definitely enjoy using some of your art as decorations for the escape floors. Not to mention decorations in his own room. Can you work with dolls? Sometimes he enjoys making rather gruesome modifications to them.

Vesper, well... You know the type of art he'd want, don't you? And while the King won't insist too much if it makes you uncomfortable, he'd be sad if you refused to draw some raunchy things. Art is still work, he'd reward you handsomely for your efforts and cherish these pieces more than the celebrity artist commissions he's acquired.

Mervin will just wax poetic about your "creative soul", maybe carry some of your best works with him just so he can show off how talented and superior his partner is. He especially loves it if you draw him, sketches of him will be stolen if it feels like you're not going to finish them. You love him so much you make tributes to him, and Mervin feels his ego deserves that.

Krulu is an artist as well. Now, naturally, let's not compare the art of a jaded siadar to the art of a human, but he appreciates your vision for creative endeavors. He has the added perk of being able to analyze your art emotionally, interpreting the feelings you pour when making it. He's selfish, wanting to keep it all for himself. No one else deserves to see it.

Vorago is a writer. Two things that go exceptionally well together is a story and illustration. He can barely hide his excitement at the thought of commissioning you for art of his favorite passages in his stories. Can barely wait to add a whole new flair to his writing. Maybe he can even write based on your drawings! The ideas swirling in his head make the prince sway happily. It's so nice to have a talented partner.

[shivunin]

Dragon Age Fic Recs

In honor of the Just Leave a Comment Fest, and with no particular theme, here are a few of my favorite Dragon Age Fics:

(If you wrote one of these fics and want me to tag your blog, please let me know and I'm happy to do so!)

**Always check the tags before jumping in; this list is no exception.**

Origins: 

be my mirror by ella_vellan: (T; 5,798) Alistair & Morrigan. Alistair meets Kieran for the first time in Orlais. The dialogue in this feels so well-paced and authentic, and it really navigates a fraught situation with grace. One of those fics that feels bittersweet in the most cathartic way. 

a gentle, beating heart by rynleaf: (M; 5,115 Words) Warden/Zevran. The Warden finds out she is pregnant sometime after Origins and puts off telling Zevran. The epistolary pieces of this frame the underlying story so well, and the flow of the fic itself is extremely well-paced.

A Man’s Word is His Bond by howlsmovinglibrary: (M; 35,135 Words/9 chapters) Zevran/Warden Soulmate AU. Honestly? This Surana cracks me up and I adore this fic. She is just having absolutely none of his nonsense. No thank you. Also, the implications of a soulmate-identifying mark are really well-explored here.

Dragon Age II:

see me bare my teeth for you by calypsid: (T; 2,978 Words) Fenris/Hawke vampire AU. This one has really good pacing and Fenris’s POV is really effective. Would absolutely read way more about the dynamic between this Hawke and Fenris. 

to hold you by the edges by vesperics: (T; 4,059 Words) Fenris/Hawke wound-tending set sometime in Act 1. I am a sucker for wound-tending anything, but I really enjoyed the way this fic explores Hawke and Fenris’s early dynamic and the way she navigates his boundaries about magical healing. 

River Stone by loquaciousquark: (M; 45,633 Words) Fenris/Hawke. Hawke is captured and subjected to a botched Rite of Tranquility. Hawke survives by pretending it worked while Fenris tries to find her. The pain in this fic is so delicately and thoughtfully depicted; it might be my favorite hurt/comfort fic ever. There is an art to writing something that hurts like this while still making the catharsis of resolution feel earned, and this author absolutely knows how to do it right. 

Inquisition: 

Portrait of a Man by Dulcidyne: (T; 3,136 Words) Cullen/Inquisitor. Cullen sits for a portrait. Love the dynamic of person vs. role here, and the idea of how someone is depicted potentially outliving who they actually are. A fic I would hug if I could. 

Truth-Telling by todisturbtheuniverse: (M; 3,988 Words; CW: Fantasy Racism) Adaar/Josephine. Adaar tells several stories about how she lost her horn, but saves the truth for Josie. There are so many great pieces in this about the faces shown to people we trust vs. people who pry for information. Love the almost-but-not-quite together state of their relationship here, too. Yearning, my beloved. 

Port in the Storm by kvella: (E; 89,445 Words/19 Chapters) After nearly hooking up, Cullen and Josephine navigate their tensions while trying to build a memorial for Haven. A lovely slow burn! Characterization is enjoyable and consistent, smut is well-written, and the tension is palpable. The sections involving Josie’s family were some of my favorites.

[dyslexicandakeyboard]

With Batfamily does comic canon matter? Yes!

Should you be authoritarian with it? No!

All this "Canonically blah-blah" or "Actually in 1989 🤓" really shouldn't matter. I understand that some of it is in good fun but sometimes we cross the border of "here's an interesting tidbit" to "anyone that writes about this thing in fanon instead of this canonical inconsequential detail should be feel ashamed of themselves and flog themselves".

Don't get me wrong, I personally like elements of canon better than fanon (and vice versa) BUT not this isn't Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings.

Most individual issues are throwaway. DC quite literally plays fast and loose with canon.

Like is there synergy between writers, absolutely. Is everything written supposed to be remembered years from now, hell no.

No writer expects you to have read all comics in existence or even a previous run. DC doesn't stand for Disregard Canon but D-isn't C-serious. Ed Brubaker didn't know Holly was killed when he wrote her in his Catwoman run, so you're not obligated to know or even take as canon that Jason's hair color was originally blonde or that he was apart of the Flying Todds or that he shot Damian.

I don't care about the War of Jokes and Riddles, nor do I care about Sasha or Vesper. I don't care that Dick had a fake wedding when he was like 20 or something and I don't care that Barbara wanted to be trained by Black Canary. I'm not gonna add that to my fics and I don't expect others too.

Really, all you need to know/read is a basic timeline (You can also just read up to a certain point and stop. That can be your canon!) and the origins. Everything else is icing on the cake.

[mysticstarlightduck]

Incorrect Quotes Tag #2

Thanks for the tag, @the-golden-comet (here)! I'll go with the cast of Supernova Initiative for this one!

Generator Here

SUPERNOVA INITIATIVE

Jack (looking in the mirror): Everything will be ok. You can not stop it. Jack: Everything will be fine. You have no choice. Cassie: What the fuck kind of pep talk is that? Jack: Ominous positivity.

(*after crash landing in that frozen moon*) Kye: Shut it Artemis, I only shook your hand because I had to. We will NEVER be friends. Artemis: Lets survive this together! Kye: I HOPE YOU DIE. (helps him anyways)

Lyorna: Now, Jack, all of us are doing this because we care about you, okay? Jasper: Except for me. I just wanted to see the look on your face.

Aleks: It’s impossible to make a sentence without using the letter A. Noctus: Despite your thinking, it is quite possible, yet difficult, to form one without the specific letter. Here’s one more to further disprove your theory. Aleks: ... Fuck you.

Cassie: Can I go to the pool? Deimos: Sure, we’ll go as soon as I’m free. Cassie: No, can I go by myself? Deimos: You don’t want to go with me? Cassie: I would if you didn't just go around challenging random people to cannonball contests! Deimos: (defensive) It’s the only way to establish dominance!

Kye: Sometimes I wonder if I’m hearing voices. Also Kye: Then I remember that’s the last bit of sanity I have trying to get me to fall asleep at a reasonable time.

Cassie: HELP! I TOLD MY BROTHER I'D COOK DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CAN'T COOK! Meridian, pouring milk directly into the cereal bag: And you thought I could help?!

Pax: I wish I could control wasps and bees to sting my enemies. Ethean (seriously concerned with his little brother): Kid, you’re too young to have enemies. Pax: Oh you sweet summer child, you don’t even know.

Elysia: When I said bring me something back from the beach I meant like a conch shell! Gabi: *Struggling to hold a seagull* Well, fucking say that next time!

Lyorna: In your opinion, what is the height of stupidity? Noctus, turning to Aleks: How tall are you?

The Director: What is wrong with you? Jack: Many, many things... Jack: And most of them are your fucking fault.

Kye: Wait- Your arresting me because I'm a homo?! A random Khosmonian Officer: ... Attemped Homicide. You tried to kill your own mother. Kye: THAT FUCKER AIN'T MY MOTHER - SHE WAS BARELY A DNA DONOR - (gets dragged away screaming)

Jack: I’m telling you, my team is competent. Deimos, rushing in: Jack! Meridian tried to make pasta in the coffee pot and now it's broken! Jack: I withdraw my statement.

Lyorna: Where are your parents? Elysia: What are parents? Lyorna: Well...That’s just about the saddest thing I've ever heard.

Pax: Ow! Ethean: What’s wrong? Pax: I have this weird pain right above my eyebrow. Ethean: Oh. It’s called a stress headache. I got my first one when I was four.

Vesper: BEHOLD, the field in which I grow my fucks! Lay thine eyes upon it, and thou shalt see that it is barren!

Tarah: How has life been treating you lately? Eos: Horribly.

Tagging (gently): @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin,

@oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab, @winterandwords, @eccaiia,

@the-letterbox-archives, @illarian-rambling @agirlandherquill, @anoelleart,

@ray-writes-n-shit @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @topazadine

@forthesanityofstorytellers, @finickyfelix

@cauliflowermaterial @thepeculiarbird,

@clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, and OPEN TAG

Taglist for Supernova Initiative below the cut! 🌠

Supernova Initiative Taglist (-/+): @ray-writes-n-shit, @sarandipitywrites, @smol-feralgremlin, @kaylinalexanderbooks,

@diabolical-blue @oh-no-another-idea

@cakeinthevoid, @clairelsonao3,

@thepeculiarbird

@the-golden-comet, @urnumber1star, @ominous-feychild, @anyablackwood, @amaiguri,

@lyutenw @finickyfelix

@elshells, @thecomfywriter

[honey-minded-hivemind]

(X men animated) Yandere Nightstalker X Fem reader who can control plants

Okay! I can do that, but it will be platonic, and I only write gender-neutral Reader x platonic yandere. Thank you for asking, and let's hope this turns out good:

You tended to see the good in everything.

From the dandelions that were called weeds to the roses so cherished, even the dead trees, you saw beauty and value in everything around you. That was part of your mutation.

You could make plants grow.

With a small surge of power or touch of a finger or a kiss, you could make trees flower with fruit, let vines lengthen and grow, even make flowers bloom in the cold of winter.

And you'd met someone, someone who you saw beauty in, inside and out. Others didn't see it, but they looked with their eyes, not with their hearts.

His name was Kurt Wagner, or as he was sometimes called, Nightcrawler.

He was a sweet soul, always smiling, praying for others with nothing but sincerity, and always having a kind word to share. He was someone you trusted, who you'd go to when in trouble.

For instance, right now.

You'd been chased from your village by someone who saw you make an elderly lady's berry bushes bud, and as of the moment, you were asking if Kurt would let you stay with him at the church.

"Mein freund, you are alvays velcome here. Come, let us hide you," he answered, guiding you gently into the old building.

"Thank you, Kurt. You're a good friend. I wish others knew you the way i did," you respond softly. He gives you a small, comforting grin, pulling you into a hug. His fur is soft, smelling of books and candle wax.

"Mein freund, you are a good freund yourself. God has blessed me for letting me know you." With a small sigh, he pulls away, and carefully sits you down on one of the pews, telling you he will be back shortly.

He never understood how others could be so cruel. God had made them all, unique and different and extraordinary, yet so many people never understood God's love. And God had blessed him with such love, had he not? In the firm of his sweet friend, who grew flowers for his church an brought fresh fruits and helped the nearby villages and towns when their crops failed. He always prayed for them, and thanked God every time he thought of them. He wasn't a man of war, and he wasn't a man of hate-

But...

Giving a slight scare to those who did not accept love and forgiveness might make them think over what they'd done.

He bamfs down, so he is hiding behind the person who had chased his friend through the rain to the church, watching as carefully. They hold a gun in hand, and are pounding at the doors. With a small puff, Kurt appears next to them-

"AAAAAH! DEMON! WITCH!"

And suddenly, the person is running, far away and (hopefully) rethinking their choices.

With a small chuckle, he bamfs back inside, where he and his friend can say vespers and eat dinner, undisturbed and blessed with each others company...

[kivaember]

What does Rusty think about Pater, Hawkins and their lurid office romance? I mean, aside from probably hating them for being corpos of course. Pater's impression of Rusty was one of the more humorous bits from the game so I wonder if Rusty was aware of him doing it... Ditto for O'keeffe too, one of Pater's lines says that O'keeffe looked out for him and he gets upset if you kill O'keeffe so they must've at least had a positive working relationship.

CLAPS HANDS TOGETHER im going to ramble about Pater and Vesper dynamics now LETS GO

I hc that Pater likely joined just under a year before they were sent to Rubicon, and most of that year was spent with him being used as a glorified dogsbody. He was a Gen Ten, the most ~advanced~ augmentations, and likely was put on the Vespers as a demonstration of their technological prowess or whatever. Pater was a young, ambitious corporate ladder climber too, so he was very skilled at brown nosing and putting forth the correct persona depending on who he was talking to.

Just one problem: the Vespers are full of freaks.

Freud refused to acknowledge his existence beyond what was mandatory (tho he's like that for anyone who isn't a) his direct chain of command, b) snail or c) a good opponent), Snail privately resented him for his advanced augmentations and was low key trying to figure out what their benefits were so he could steal them for himself somehow, Maeterlinck was very neutral towards him bc she's actually the only sane person in this goddamn group and is just here to collect a paycheck and a good retirement package, and Swinburne saw him as competition that was going to snatch his Vesper number from him or leapfrog over him to the next number just like Rusty did.

So, his reception wasn't exactly the warmest. O'Keeffe wasn't warm towards him either, but O'Keeffe doesn't play promotion politics (he's already set for life and enjoys various perks the other Vespers don't) and he treats Pater as any other subordinate. O'Keeffe's a bit odd, but he's forthright and fair, and Pater appreciated that, esp as O'Keeffe gave him some helpful pointers on how to navigate life in the Vespers.

Rusty was a little more enigmatic, and Pater honestly could never get a good read on him. Superficially, Rusty was very friendly and always willing to chat whenever Pater crossed paths with him, but Pater could tell that Rusty's smiles were very practiced and artificial, and that there was very little true warmth in his eyes.

Actually, Pater genuinely thought Rusty was like him: just a better actor. Pater admired Rusty for his effective masking skills and studied him closely to better his own masking and friendly persona. Like, Pater was good, but he knew that sometimes he could be a little off-putting bc he either didn't strike the right tone of his smile wasn't quite right, but Rusty was very charismatic and charming and such a good liar, so Pater definitely jotted down a lot of mental notes and tried to emulate him.

(Rusty had no idea about this but he definitely would've been peturbed to know that Pater admired him for being such an amazing liar dfhdfhdf actually i want to write a Pater pov drabble about Rusty being a liar now-)

NOW ONTO HAWKINS.

Hawkins is a little like Maeterlinck where he's actually kind of normal, but, there is a but here: his augmentation time wasn't as easy or clearcut as the others'. He came on the heels of the rather fatal and dangerous Gen Five and Gen Six experiments, and it rests heavy on him that his Gen Seven augments were safe only because of how many lives were lost before him. So, he looks at Pater and sees a young lad totally oblivious (lol no) to the highway of bones he walked on to get to where he is, and wants to guide and look out for him.

Which turned out easy enough since Pater was delegated to help Hawkins out a lot with his logistical issues. Pater, thrust into a group where majority of them saw him as either a hindrance or competition, basically huddled under Hawkins' protective shadow bc Pater's a survivor and a ladder climber and he knows to stick to his useful assets and allies like glue.

Hawkins developed feelings for Pater, and yes there was the telenovela drama of oh no, i can't, he's my junior!!! but eventually Hawkins came clean and Pater calculated.

He does hold genuine feelings of affection for Hawkins, but he also ran all the calculations on what this relationship would bring him, how useful it'd be, its pros, its cons, and after weighing all that was like yeah it'll give me more than i'll lose so let's go for it!

Pater, I feel... DUAL NATURE and his emblem make me feel that Pater is well aware of the life he leads, where he has to don a mask to get to where he is and further. i don't think it's meant to represent like, a split personality or anything like that, but more like a representation of what the cutthroat, capitalistic society has forced him to be.

You don't promote being honest and earnest and trusting - you just get stabbed in the back. You have to get close to those who can do things for you, enter into deals of "you scratch my back and I'll scratch yours" to create a web of favours and obligations and "put in a good word for me!" or "oh he's such a nice guy, let's do this for him". You have to be good at donning the right mask, the right persona, at watching someone you have affections for be cut down and in real time make the very conscious and sharp adjustment of "oh my god no" to "ok ok you have to think what this'll give you you have to think about how you can use this" bc Hawkins being dead means he's lost more than just the emotional support, he's lost the material, the physical, he has to focus on "how can i turn this into a win?"

That turned way more rambly than I thought shhsadfd but Pater fascinates me because he really is a product of the kind of corporate society in armored core 6. There's no honestly, no earnestness, no true self. Just masks upon masks, ruthless social calculations, and stuffing down any true feelings because the only real comfort you get in this world is success and winning.

i have completely lost the thread of what he question was but i hope you enjoyed that ramble???

[ruby-red-inky-blue]

Merry Christmas, @vesper-1898! As per accidental early reveal, I am your secret santa! I had *way* too much fun with your prompt, which is why this fic is 10k words long. I didn't like the idea of Rebelcaptain planning a proposal big enough to "fail", but then I thought... you never said it had to be their proposal.

I hope you'll enjoy your gift!

The Gales of November Remembered

“He’s gonna do it,” Bodhi says breathlessly, shouldering through the doors with a heavily laden tray. “For real. He’s fully planning to do it.”

“Do what?”

“Propose.”

“You’re kidding,” Jyn says, looking up from the untidy scrawl on her notebook.

“To her?” Melshi scoffs. “What is he, suicidal?”

“I know, she’s gonna kill him,” Bodhi says with a gleeful, uncharacteristically evil smirk.

“Are they even dating?”

“By no definition of the word,” Kay says earnestly. “The man is a stalker.”

Cassian feels similarly. Syril Karn, one of their lamentably load-bearing regulars, is a jumped-up twenty-something with a rich uncle in politics, no talent or social graces to his own name, and an absolute creep. His ‘romance’ with the fed who usually gets a late overpriced dinner at the restaurant seems to exist mostly in his head, a fact obvious to anyone with eyes (and to Baze’s husband, who was fully blind). They have been hooking up from time to time, after too much wine. Sometimes even at the restaurant, if they’re the last customers, as they tend to be. The waitstaff has begged to be allowed to cut them off to prevent it, but times are hard and they need the drink sales.

“God, I never thought I’d feel bad for that woman,” Jyn mutters. She admits defeat in her quest to decipher her own writing and holds the notepad up to Cassian with a resigned expression. “Is that last one a nine or a four?”

He squints down at her chicken scratch with a frown. There is bad penmanship, and then there is the seismograph charts his girlfriend passes for handwriting. “A four. I think.”

“You should be reimbursed for doing twenty-five percent of her job on top of yours,” Kay says in the disgruntled tone he always takes on the topic of Jyn. “She is a waitress, and should be able to read her own notes.”

Jyn gives him the finger without looking up and shoots back good-naturedly: “It didn’t say ‘reading numbers’ anywhere on the job description when I applied, you know.”

“It was clearly implied –“

“Kay. She’s not gonna drop it,” Cassian says wearily with no real hope of ending the argument and makes a semi-successful attempt to push his hair out of his eyes without getting whatever sauce is on his fingers all over his face. Then he turns back to Bodhi. “How do you know, anyway?”

“Oh, because we’re getting implicated,” he says blithely. “He’s gonna do it here –“

“Lead with that!” Melshi barks from his station, and Bodhi rolls his eyes.

“I was getting to it! He said he’ll email us with the details. And we’re – we’re all ‘responsible’ for how it goes off, apparently.”

“I’m gonna kill him,” Jyn growls. “Do us and that bitch of a fed a favour.”

“You can’t. We need their money,” Cassian says darkly.

“Nothing is worth this!” Jyn whines, and Cassian tries and fails not to let it sting. He knows she’s joking, but still… Lord knows he’s not been fighting this hard to keep the Rogue afloat because it’s the pinnacle of his career. He loves these people. He’d give an arm and a leg to keep working with everyone currently assembled in the run-down kitchen – and frankly, it would kill him to work in a place that doesn’t have Jyn Erso in it.

Alright, that’s probably an exaggeration. But he’s seen her nearly every day for the three years he’s known her, and he does worry that he’s forgotten how to make it through a day without the prospect of catching her eye across the room. He also probably enjoys he way she brushes past him in their stupidly narrow walkways far too much, given how much time he spends telling her to stop doing that so he won’t hack off his own fingers.

Long story short, Cassian would endure almost anything for this second-rate restaurant and their silent exhausted bus rides home, and to hear her say otherwise, even as a joke, makes the alarm bells go off in his head. He’s not usually this insecure about their relationship, but for a few weeks now, there is that dusty little box shoved into the back corner of his sock drawer, and it’s never far from his mind. Nor is the thought of Ma spending the annual Christmas dinner needling him over the contents of said box if the secret isn’t out by then. Subtlety has never been her strong suit, and her relationship to his girlfriend is tenuous at best. If Jyn hears of this from her –

Fuck. It’s his own fault, too. He had to ask for Ma’s old ring. And now he only has three weeks left to do this, and he still has no idea how. Maybe he’ll be the one to get murdered over a proposal in this restaurant.

“Hey! Cassian!” Andrea, one of the line cooks, snaps her fingers in front of his face, roughly jerking him out of his reverie and back to the present. Cassian feels the blood rush to his face. Jesus Christ, now he’s spacing out at work again. He’s handled so much stress, too much stress, as his doctor won’t cease to remind him, and now –

Jyn, mistaking his guilty flinch for something else, is on her feet and has hauled poor Andy a full two meters away from him before he can so much as blink. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m fine,” he mutters, runs both hands over his eyes, inevitably smearing bechamel across his nose. Then he adds, for good measure and because Jyn is, unfortunately, not wrong: “But actually don’t do that, though.”

Jyn, Bodhi, Melshi and Baze all still eye him cautiously. Cassian tries not to let it embarrass him, which would be easier if this was the PTSD thing and not just him being a ball of nerves because he doesn’t know how to propose to his girlfriend.

He grimaces. “Sorry, what were we –“

“The Karn thing,” Melshi says evenly and throws him a rag to wipe his face. “I mean, I guess we could tell him no, but…”

“Like you said,” Jyn adds with a shrug and pulls herself onto the countertop (another thing he keeps telling her not to do), “we do need his money.”

Cassian sighs. “We do. It just feels like… facilitating harassment, right?”

“We are facilitating her own bad choices, and getting paid for it,” Jyn says. Cassian raises a brow at her, and she shrugs. “Hey, judge me all you want. That woman is a career ICE officer. My sympathy is so fucking limited.”

“Can we try to look at it as a customer paying a lot of money to have us serve a custom menu for one night?” Melshi asks in what Cassian can tell is a deliberately neutral tone. “We’re not forcing her to hang around to eat it if she doesn’t want to.”

“I’m thinking she might have to,” Cassian says darkly.

“Why? She’s a grown woman.”

Cassian grits his teeth. “And his uncle is on the National Security Council.”

“Oh god, that explains so much,” Bodhi mutters.

Jyn shrugs. “Again, that seems like her problem. We have an oven that’s a fire hazard, and our head chef is cooking with blunt knives.“

“I know. It just feels –“

“Yeah, it does,” Melshi says flatly. “But he’s gonna do it, so let him do it here and we get paid for it. Besides, if he pulls some shit, we can call the cops on him.”

Cassian scoffs. “Yeah, like that will do anything.”

“It won’t. But if someone gets the satisfaction of landing his scrawny ass in lockup even for one night, I want it to be me,” Melshi says with a wolfish grin, and Cassian has to admit he gets the sentiment.

He sighs. “Okay, so we’re picking a fight with an ICE officer, a rich white kid and whatever cop shows up to arrest him… to avoid picking a fight with the health inspector? That sounds insane.”

“We’re not picking fights! Our two most awful regulars want to embarrass themselves in public and pay us for it!”

“It won’t even be that much work,” Melshi says. “Let’s just convince him to do it as close to Christmas as possible, then we can just say it’s a special Christmas menu, and we can serve it to every customer that evening.”

Cassian sighs and turns to Baze. “What do you think?”

“I think Jyn is right,” the old cook says evenly. “They deserve each other, and we need their money.”

Cassian raises his hands in defeat. “Fine. Alright.”

Jyn throws him a surprised sideward glance. She clearly expected him to put up more of a fight, and he would have – but he is doubly invested in financial stability right now, and as dubious as the morality of this is… if any two people deserve it, it’s these two.

And he has his own fucking proposal to worry about.

[finish reading on AO3]

[rottenraccoons]

How do you go about writing witty characters or funny banter, for example between Vesper and Keir? I find comedy to be very hard to nail, and I'd like to hear dear raccoons' advice!

Aw, thank you! This got a touch lengthy so the rest is under a readmore.

I've been sitting on this for a while to think about it, and I think the short answer is that we write banter as an extension of the characters' personal feelings and relationships, and Vesper is a banter-friendly character. They're talkative, they're a fast thinker, and they enjoy being sarcastic. Those are useful traits for writing fun dialogues, in my opinion.

My mindset when writing a dialogue exchange that's supposed to be especially fun or engaging is to treat it as a fight for power. For Vesper and Keir, particularly at the end of the chapter, that fight is play-fighting, but it's still a contest or a sport they want to "win". Sometimes they escalate their rhetoric against each other, sometimes they shift the topic of discussion a bit to get an edge, but they're fighting to win the conversation. And because Keir and Vesper don't actually hate each other they're not fighting to hurt each other, which keeps the atmosphere light and fun. (And bonus! If one of them did hurt the other in their banter, it comes across as more shocking and dramatic, highlighting the hurt.)

There's a lot of things a writer can do to make dialogue and banter more fun and engaging, though, and honestly I think the best way to learn is just to actively watch/listen to media that does it well, and when you find something that hits so good, think about why it hits so good. Pick it apart, find the rhythm of the dialogue, look at how characters choose their words (especially repeating specific words in a dialogue, or from a previous dialogue), when do the power dynamics shift, how do the characters enter and leave an exchange, what is it about this joke that's so funny. It can take away a touch of the ~magic~ to examine a piece of dialogue mechanically like this, but I think there's a second kind of appreciation that comes from seeing the mechanics behind something and seeing how well they fit together.

For me, that thing was the radio programme Cabin Pressure by John Finnemore (who also co-wrote season 2 of Good Omens), so I can highly recommend listening to that. Here's a short clip of two characters meeting up for a date, as a taster. And here's me analysing a very short bit of it like I'm back in high school doing line-by-line readings of the Odyssey again:

(dog enters scene, barking) Carolyn: Hello, darling! Did you hear the silly late man? [Carolyn is continuing a previous argument, asserting her dominance by emphasising Herc is late.] Herc: Oh, hello. What a ridiculous dog. [Herc knows he can't win on the late argument, so shifts the point of discussion. By calling the dog ridiculous, he is poking at Carolyn's pride while staying within acceptable boundaries.] Carolyn: I'm sorry? [Daring Herc to repeat his statement, attempting the intimidation she uses when insulted in other circumstances.] Herc: I said you have a ridiculous dog. [Herc will not be intimidated, repeats his point plainly to assert it as fact. Not "I think the dog is ridiculous" but "The dog is ridiculous".] Carolyn: My dog is not ridiculous. [Continuing to push back on Herc, emphasis on "my dog" to tie the dog to her and she's not ridiculous, is she?] Herc: Then whose dog is this? [Big laugh line, Herc has clearly won the point in this volley. He continues the conversation about the dog (who is, in fairness, delightful but quite a silly creature) because he is winning the "Carolyn's dog is ridiculous" fight, but shifts to the dog's breed for new ground to compete over.]

You definitely don't have to write things out like this (I don't recommend it unless you already find it fun), but being able to look at lines of dialogue and see what they're for in an exchange, both in-character and out of character as a structural element, can help when writing to know exactly what each line is for, and for me it helps me keep power dynamics and rhythm in mind. I hope that helps, nonny!

[candycryptids]

■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

✿ - Sex headcanon

∇ -. old age/aging headcanon

♒ - cooking/food headcanon

Tangy, all Tangy, give me Tangy Lore

■ - Tangy makes her long-term stay wherever the Scions have settled- the Waking Sands, the Rising Stones, unfortunately missed out on most of The Falling Snow.. while she’s still a much smaller Miqo’te staying in the Waking Sands she insists she doesn’t need much space to sleep, and just has a bunk with a leather bag hanging off one of the posts. Granted, that bunk is piled with blankets and pillows, and she doesn’t even sleep under them; it’s all just lumpy padding for curling up on top of and snoring. (After meeting with Chuu and finding out 1) there was a way to avoid getting arrested after the Banquet fiasco and 2) she could totally be stronger. Totally. And subsequently getting… let’s call it Off-Brand-Fantasia’d, she needs a bit more space.. she stops snoring most of the time, though. Having more snout apparently makes it easier to not snore!) She doesn’t ever keep an apartment of her own, but she does sometimes trek from Revenant’s Toll to Vesper Bay to check in on the old haunt, since Urianger seems keen to Never Leave. lmao.

This gets real long so here’s a cut for the sake of the dashboards lol (good lort there’s images down there…)

✿ - She’s Asexual! In that she doesn’t feel sexual attraction towards people, but she does enjoy the act? It’s a good way to relieve stress and it’s fun exercise and it’s a nice way to bond with others.

She does, however, struggle with the ‘Oops’ part of Chuu’s ‘Fantasia’ which was giving her a body with a dick :T There’s a learning curve. (Among other curves. Wink? Sorry dndndndnfke) Also, not necessarily sex, but she probably kisses her friends. Because she cares about them! Cheek kisses, lip kisses, forehead and top of head kisses… hand kisses… Kisses :)

Yda and Tangy pose is [Glomp Tackle] with fresh expressions but the rest are all custom done ;w; oh also shader is Neneko’s Love… I think.. 🫢 it’s all the same one 🤦 I just forgot to write it down

∇- I genuinely think Tangy gets a handle on Accounting by hanging out with Tataru so much over the years. It keeps Tataru’s mind off worrying about everybody as much while they’re away on business, and Tangy gets to wrinkle her brain (this takes. Such a long time though. She’s still not reliable for it, either, but she’s passable :3) .. for a proper aging headcanon tho I think as she gets older she becomes an anchor point for the Scions like Tataru is. Sets up shop and trains young adventurers in combat and cooking and camping. Her whiskers twitch when thunderstorms are brewing. She still sometimes needs nudging from her own students on things, but it’s usually in things relating to Reading. I feel like she has pretty bad dyslexia and maybe even dyscalculia that she’s just learned to deal with.

♒- LOVES food. Loves to eat. Loves to help with cooking. Measuring ingredients for recipes is actually pretty easy since it’s not demanded exactness, it’s just “half of this cup, level this cup, just enough to cover the bottom of this pan,” like, not exact. You feel cooking with your heart. And kneading bread is an excellent and fun work out to her. Can not bake.. Kinda wishes she could. She’s just not precise enough, and she gets the order in which things have to be done mixed up, so she ends up with some pretty…. Not exactly inedible but…. 🫢 It’s not appetizing looking.. and it doesn’t taste great… She’s not a picky eater, but she hesitates to eat snails. It just makes her a little sad, cos they’re cute to her. And then she eats them anyways =w=; the chef worked hard to make this delicious meal and she’s gonna eat it! (And not eating the snails would waste their life so. Honor their sacrifice and eat them.) Her favorite food is whatever she can eat with her hands/whatever’s in front of her at the time, and any of F’lahminn’s cooking. Even if it’s burnt.

[shout out to Elio for their Dango Props they’re so cute]

Oh shit I forgot to link the [Ask Meme]

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

So, as I said last time, we have nothing left we can do in the game except head to the island.

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - In your hand, you hold "Dick Mullen and the Mistaken Identity." The brittle paperback feels fragile to the touch.

Examine the cover.

Start reading.

[Put the book away.]

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - The cover features a pastiche of different scenes. In the foreground, a man in a dark overcoat clutches a pistol to his chest. Rising up behind him are two silhouettes wrapped in a passionate embrace.

The tagline reads: "Detective Dick Mullen must prove his innocence after an old friend is murdered -- by someone who looks just like Dick Mullen!" That seems to sum up the premise nicely.

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Easy: Success] - Needless to say, it violates nearly every RCM regulation for a detective to investigate a murder in which he is a suspect.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Are you really reading that, detective?"

"I really need to know who this Dick Mullen guy is."

"I'm looking for advice on being a real detective."

"I'm just skimming it."

KIM KITSURAGI - "That's probably for the best. Those books aren't exactly famed for their tight plotting."

DRAMA [Medium: Success] - It's much more about the dark and deadly atmossssphere.

I meant to go through our book collection sometime well before this point, but I kept forgetting we had the option.

Also, I put another point into Electrochemistry, and move into Lilienne's house so we're out of the rain.

2. Start reading.

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - The story opens with a knock at the door. Detective Dick Mullen is greeted by an old friend, Charlie Spillane, who's come to Mullen to ask a favour on this dark and cold night...

Spillane needs Mullen to drive him in from Vesper to a small town along the Insulindian coast. Despite his friend's apparent agitation, Mullen does as he's asked, then returns home where he passes out drunk, as he does most nights...

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Easy: Success] - An extremely unprofessional and *hurtful* stereotype that's offensive to all upstanding officers of the law.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Medium: Success] - But also extremely *accurate*, in your case.

Hey, I'm trying at least.

Look, I can't judge.

Keep reading.

I don't need to read this. I'm already living it. (Close the book.)

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Give it time. You'll fall off the wagon sooner or later.

Keep reading.

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - Two days later, Mullen is arrested by the Vesper police and charged with the murder of Charlie Spillane. At his interrogation, Mullen learns that Charlie Spillane was shot in a bar in the very town Mullen dropped him off in, by a man matching *Mullen's* description...

Desperate to clear his name, Mullen manages to convince the Vesper police to release him for *three days* so that Mullen may solve his friend's murder and prove his innocence.

"The cops release their prime murder suspect so he can find 'the real killer'? Are you shitting me?"

No way Mullen did it. (Keep reading.)

KIM KITSURAGI - "What's the matter, detective?" The lieutenant turns to you with a start.

"I don't know who's writing this shit, but I get the feeling they aren't experts on homicide investigations."

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant shrugs, resigned to the idea that his profession will rarely, if ever, be accurately represented in art and literature.

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Easy: Success] - They're not shitting you, detective. This is what the writers think passes for police procedure.

Okay, so Mullen didn't do it. (Keep reading.)

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - Of *course* Mullen didn't do it. That's the whole premise of the book! Anyway, Mullen returns to the seaside bar where Spillane was murdered, and meets a *beautiful*, *mysterious* woman named Deanna Deneuve.

Nice, a dame.

Now it's getting interesting. (Keep reading.)

I feel like I've read this before. (Close the book.)

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - And not just any dame -- she's truly one-in-a-million, a knock-out whose *mind* is as dangerous as her *curves*. But she's got a *secret*.

Man, who doesn't?

Sounds like my kind of woman.

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - Secrets are the currency of human relations.

VOLITION [Easy: Success] - Your secrets are unknown even unto you, so does that make you a rich man or a beggar?

Now it's getting interesting. (Keep reading.)

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - Deneuve reveals that she was Spillane's lover, and that he was mixed up with a local amphetamine smuggling operation. As soon as Mullen begins pulling at strings, the whole conspiracy begins to unravel...

Not only is the local police captain in on the amphetamine ring, so is the son of a powerful politician, and a strung-out art collector named Torvald. Each of whom has his own reasons for wanting Spillane dead...

Tell me about the corrupt police captain.

I want to hear about the politician's son.

What was that about an art collector?

Okay, let's get on with the story.

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - Outwardly, the old police captain is a real law-and-order crypto-fascist, a barrel-chested man who's beaten his share of suspects to pulp. But he's also dirty, and increasingly paranoid that someone's going to expose his role in the drug ring...

He would certainly have the motive and the means, but the captain walks with a noticeable *limp* from an old war injury. Is it possible he was able to conceal it long enough to commit the murder?

2. I want to hear about the politician's son.

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - A typical privileged twat. In all likelihood, he's just in over his head. He does bear a personal grudge against Spillane though, a former prosecutor who nearly brought down his father's administration...

The kid doesn't exactly have Dick Mullen's manly build, but he is the correct height, and while interrogating him at his home, Mullen *did* notice a certain overcoat that looks suspiciously like his own...

3. What was that about an art collector?

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - Torvald the Art Collector is a strung-out mess. Frankly, it's hard to imagine him holding a pistol steady enough to actually hit someone, let alone plug them three times in the chest the way old Spillane got did...

That said, Torvald and Spillane have a long history, and while interrogating him, Mullen discovers that Torvald was once *involved* with Deanna Deneuve. Could it be that this is all over a sordid *love triangle*?

4. Okay, let's get on with the story.

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - One evening, Deanna Deneuve comes to Mullen's hostel room in tears. The two of them drink half a bottle of vodka, and soon they're seeking comfort in each other's arms...

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Easy: Success] - Yes, comfort and pleasure. The warmth of another human's touch, the burning taste of liquor on her full, sweet lips...

+1 Health

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Easy: Success] - Well, *that* testimony won't be admissible any longer.

How does Mullen expect to solve the murder if he's sleeping with witnesses!

Nice. Get it, Mullen.

I'm not sure I'm happy with this, but maybe the story will turn it around.

ESPRIT DE CORPS - The man's a prosecutor's nightmare. Solving a murder counts for nothing if all the evidence gets thrown out in court over police misconduct.

AUTHORITY [Easy: Success] - That's just Dick Mullen's *modus operandi*. He might bend the rules, but he closes cases no one else can.

2. I'm not sure I'm happy with this, but maybe the story will turn it around.

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - As the two lovers share a post-coital cigarette, Deanna Deneuve turns to Mullen and says, "By the way, Dick, there was something else I meant to tell you..."

INLAND EMPIRE [Easy: Success] - "I love you"?

HALF LIGHT [Medium: Success] - The name of the true killer?

HAND/EYE COORDINATION [Medium: Success] - "Always aim for the centre of mass"?

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - Whatever it is, Mullen never hears the words -- A blow to the base of his skull knocks him out cold instantly.

Fuck.

Can't trust a dame. (Shake your head.)

I don't really like where this is going. (Close the book.)

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - Who can you trust in this wicked, messed-up world?

Your partner. (Look at Kim.)

No one. Just your own two eyes.

No one. You gotta go with your gut.

I could put this to a vote, but I think we all know what would win.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant gives you a quizzical expression in return. You go back to the story...

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - When Mullen comes to, Deneuve is dead on the hostel bed next to him. To make matters worse, his clothes are covered with her blood!

Double fuck!

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - Mullen trashes his blood-stained clothes and flees the hostel, knowing it's only a matter of hours before the cops discover Deneuve's body, if they haven't been tipped off already...

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Easy: Success] - Fleeing a crime scene, destroying evidence... Even if Detective Mullen *didn't* commit the murder, he should be facing *years* behind bars.

AUTHORITY [Easy: Success] - Dick Mullen won't be sent to the clink for the sake of some *legal niceties*!

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - The heat is on! If Dick Mullen can't solve both murders before the cops catch up to him, he's going away for life...

Can you solve the case before the cops close in?

Wait -- I've got some questions first.

I've figured it out.

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - What is it, detective?

Why does everyone close to Dick Mullen wind up dead?

Why did Dick Mullen become a detective in the first place?

Why bother solving crimes when the world is so evil?

I don't have any more questions. I've figured it all out.

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - It's a dangerous line of work, but somebody has to do it. That's why Dick Mullen never lets anyone get *too* close...

HALF LIGHT [Medium: Success] - What's the matter? Afraid you've been hacking up your friends' bodies in the night?

INLAND EMPIRE [Easy: Success] - You *are* the murderer, after all...

Boy, that's a callback to something that happened *ages* ago.

2. Why did Dick Mullen become a detective in the first place?

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - There was never a time when he wasn't a detective. He was born a detective.

Was I *not* born to be a detective?

But why is he like that?

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - Dick Mullen was made to crack skulls and solve cases. It's who he is. He could no more stop being a detective than a tiger could cease to be a predator in the night.

VOLITION [Easy: Success] - You're no tiger, though, Harry. You're a man. It's your curse to have to choose.

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - For a moment, you cease to read the story on the page and see the book for what it is, a collection of brittle, cheaply printed pages, held together by glue made from the hooves of horses...

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT [Medium: Success] - From nowhere, you hear the screech of sneakers on a waxed floor, and you feel the burn of rope against your hands. Are these figments of some other life?

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - You won't find the answers you're looking for here, in other words.

3. Why bother solving crimes when the world is so evil?

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - Is it really so evil, detective?

[transientchaos]

I am reading into Obscura because I want to write something about Francesco despite the Raccoons' opinion to "protect the boy". I recognise they made a decision, but given that it's not the decision that would bring me joy, I decided to ignore it.

So, the Solar Sigil. Ten beams, as said in the beginning of the game when Vesper looks at a church of the Lunar God. How many beams on Fran's outfit?

Eleven to thirteen on his coat depending on the pose, ten on his mask, thirteen visible on his necklace when he wears his shirt open.

Does it mean anything? Probably not. But he doesn't have a consistent Solar Sigil motif on him, and that is something to be noted at this point. (It can still change, Obscura is in demo, and there are inconsistencies in the burgundy mask on Vesper that do not mean anything in the grand scheme of things. The marks around the eyes of the mask just shift. It's difficult to draw two identical things.)

His rings. On his right hand there are three, on his left there is one. If we go by meanings of his rings, not that there were given any or shown in the world of Obscura:

Middle finger on left hand. While this meaning has been mostly used for women in our world, I will not stray into gender essentialism just for this post - Francesco is unmarried. The ring has a red gem in it, it might be the Sarri signet or something like that.

Right thumb. A desire for independence and control in the outer world. Makes sense, Francesco is quite sheltered and whenever he can he tries to get away from the guards. He sometimes doesn't wear it if he can get away with it behind the text box.

Right index finger. Ambition and leadership.

Right ring finger. Confidence, maybe self-love? If Francesco deliberately placed this ring here, there might be a little bit of good-natured posturing since he does seem shy

Note: In some of the sprites, the ring moves from the ring finger to the pinky. Either Francesco fiddles with his rings or it's been easier to draw a pinky finger in some poses. Either way I am not looking deep into this. Francesco has nice hands and I want to hold his hand regardless.

By the way, looking at how people generally tend to wear rings, it's quite an uncommon choice to wear more of them on the writing hand, though not unheard of.

By the way, judging by Francesco's poses, he either does not have pockets in his pants or he does not have the habit of putting his hands into pockets.

So like. It might not mean anything. It might mean everything. It might change before the full release. I like Francesco's design.

[eldritch-spouse]

What books do the Icons like to read? I'm sometimes a graphic novel type.

All of them read the amount necessary to execute their function as demonlords, and the "magical arts" of their sin type.

If you assume Cero reads anything but law and politics books, you'd be sorely mistaken. Every once in a blue moon he'll read about history, mostly Hell's history, but also some surface history.

Vesper writes. He prefers to create stories that, aside from innovating smut as a whole, also explore facets of identity and life as a concubus. He's not very preoccupied with reading beyond what he has to in order to create his works of fiction.

Rinx reads the equivalent of what can be called buyer manuals. Texts that inform him of how to properly evaluate what he wants to buy. Anything that has to do with general or advanced economy in Hell and outside of it is also appreciated.

Vorticia doesn't have as much time to read as the others. She prefers something a little more indulgent, like an easily digestible (hah) romance, or anything that has to do with inovating gastronomy.

Zizz has short bursts where he absolutely devours books in an incredibly short span of time. He tends to read about astrology, the subconscious mind and brain activity during rest periods.

Kalymir hardly reads. He likes content in short and concise formats, the least amount of embellishments and subtle depth, the better.

Livius is all over the place. One day he'll read a fantasy novel, the next he's browsing scientific articles, and then he's into parodies- His literature tastes are as defined as his general personality.