#the entire deep dark is designed around audio

[dismembered-narrator]

if i designed the deep dark i would have the warden operate purely on sound (and have the three strikes reset after you escape or die)

[the-tmnt-ficfinder]

Ficfinder finds: Ocean Tides and Butterflies

Rottmnt Oneshot Summary: The wind raced past him, enveloping his body in a cold unwelcome hug. He stood on the edge of a building, the ravine of a city buzzing like a wasp’s nest below him. The wind shoved against his face, causing his eyes to water. Teasing him with the presence of unwanted tears, tears that he had trained himself to hold in.

Ocean Tides and Butterflies: Appraisal and Ratings

(Don't know what fanfic "Appraisal and Ratings" means? Check out my explanation on my Main Masterpost! Looking for a different fanfic to read? Head on over to my Fanfic List Masterpost!)

Disclaimer: This fanfic is a oneshot, and is completed! This fanfic is written by @inkypawprint so go show them some love and support!! This fanfic has a version on both Tumblr, and Ao3. Here's the link to the Ao3 version.

The fanfic ratings are not based on quality, favoritism, or how good I think it is, but rather, how intense a subject may be. Like a movie review, or the tags on Ao3, letting the readers know what to expect.

Plot: 💛🖤🖤🖤🖤

"Plot is one out of five!! This oneshot has less plot, and more poetic story telling of a deep and painful emotional experience. This story is rich in deep thoughts, and has many unique metaphors."

Suspense/Mystery: 💛💛💛💛🖤

"Suspense/Mystery four out of five!! This fic does hold quite the amount of mystery within it, as many of the meanings are written out in deep thought-provoking metaphors, designed to make you think. Along with that, the ending of this fic is open to reader interpretation."

Angst/Hurt: 💛💛💛💛💛

"Angst/Hurt is five out of five!! The entire plotline for this fic, revolves around deep emotional pain, and how it effects one's life."

Fluff/Comfort: 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

"Fluff/Comfort is zero out of five!! This fic has no comfort in it at all, as it goes over some very dark and upsetting emotions."

Emotions Conveyed: 💛💛💛💛🖤

"Emotions Conveyed is four out of five!! This oneshot tells a deep and poetic story through the use of metaphors, and correlation to nature. This fic will absolutely make you think on a deeper level, as it talks a lot on the subjects of life and death."

Drama/Tension Level: 💛💛💛💛🖤

"Drama/Tension Level is four out of five!! There isn't really any drama in this oneshot, however, it does have a lot of emotional tension!"

Triggers: 💛💛💛🖤🖤

"Triggers for this chapter are three out of five!! I'd say, the triggers are hidden between the lines. Nothing is really said out loud, though many things are implied. This fanfic has the triggers of thoughts of suicide, feelings of inadequacy, existential crisis over life and death, and potential suicide attempt (open to reader interpretation).

Legibility (Reading): 💛💛💛🖤🖤

"Legibility (Reading) is three out of five!! As this fic has a very roundabout way for text, it could be a little hard for some to understand it, as most of the meaning is hidden in the metaphors. A beautiful beautiful writing style, just one that may be hard for some to read ^^"

Legibility (Audio): 💛💛💛💛🖤

"Legibility (Audio) gets a two out of five!! As this fanfic has a high amount of runabout metaphors, I find that it's easier to listen to. Helps separate the words, and put them better into perspective, though that's just my opinion ^^"

Length: 💛🖤🖤🖤🖤

"Length is one out of five!! This fanfic is a oneshot with a word count of 1.5k words, and takes around 9-10 minutes to read!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Personal thoughts on chapter below cut (Contains Spoilers)

This fanfic, as said in the authors note, seems to be inspired by the song, Killing Butterflies, which the author provided a link for in the authors notes.

The wind raced past him, enveloping his body in a cold unwelcome hug. He stood on the edge of a building, the ravine of a city buzzing like a wasp’s nest below him. The steady stream of car lights growing ever brighter as the sun retired behind the relentless pull of gravity. Each car held people and pets, hundreds of them rushing down the road each minute. Each person oblivious, stuck in their own worlds, cocoons of social circles that they had trapped themselves in.

Right off the bat, this is just so poetically beautiful!! Each little description invokes such beautiful visuals in my mind! I can practically feel the cold wind, swooping around, hugging with icy fingers! I also love how a wasps nest was used as a metaphor for the city, as it really does feel fitting. Just, this entire thing, is filled with so much symbolism, its beautiful!

The weight from his sword pulled on his arm, gravity bullying him the same way it bullied the earth.

Gravity, pulling on the sun, pulling on his arm, pulling on the earth. I feel like this is a metaphor for how depression feels. Ever present, ever weighing, ever a part of life.

It wasn’t long before Leo reached the end of the rooftop, swinging his sword in front of him and ripping a portal into the air, tearing into the matter of the world. He stepped through it, the light blinding him momentarily before he emerged on the next rooftop, walking forwards once more. The bright light of his nimpo flickered out behind him as he walked away from it. He could still see the circle of blue light throbbing in his retina’s, pulsing each time he blinked.

I wonder, would this be silent? Or would it make a ripping sound? Would you be able to hear the sound of the portals tearing open? I wonder if he could even hear it over the sounds of the city.

His brothers had no clue where he was. He had left without a word, simply walked through a portal when no one was paying attention. It was a frequent occurrence. Quite often his brothers would ignore him, stuck in their cocoons, just like everyone else. Leo sighed, scuffing his foot against the rough rooftop in aggravation. Maybe he was the one stuck in his cocoon. Maybe his brothers had broken out of theirs a long time ago. They had spread their wings, they were free, and he was still inside his unwanted cocoon.

This is such a beautiful little metaphor right here!! I feel like it symbolizes how wrapped up folks get in their own lives. Feeling trapped, thinking only of how they're trapped. Then, as they break free, they're able to fly, and they divert their attention to all of everyone else. Its rather fascinating, that people who feel trapped and stuck, are the ones who think of themselves the most, while folks who are free, think of others. You'd think that free folks would think of themselves, because of their fortune to be free, and yet, they divert their attention to those who are still trapped. I might be going to deep with this all, but I just love how deeply this fic is making me think!!

This was because he wasn’t worth listening to. Because his ideas were unrealistic, they contained loopholes. He wondered why he kept trying.

Nooooooo you poor boi T^T

Leo sighed. He was the face man.

Y'know, something I find interesting, is how little Leo appreciates how big of a role his role is. To define what being the face of a team means, "In a team character dynamic, the Face is the one you want doing the talking. They are charming, socially savvy, and otherwise know how to get things done with words. At worst they will be the least dysfunctional team member." As these qualities come naturally to Leo, he often believes that his job is to easy. That he's got the losers job. Now, if any of his other brothers had to do the job of face man, they'd fail spectacularly, as its just not in their nature. I also feel like Leo's brothers don't appreciate how hard he actually works in this job. Being the face of the team, is also somewhat like being the therapist friend. Its something that others won't see, and is very hard work. Easy to get overlooked, and/or burnt out. Leo's been the face man for so long, that its all he knows.

He had tried, he had tried to be better, to contribute to the group more. He couldn’t though, no matter how hard he tried. He couldn’t make tech, he wasn’t stronger than Raph, and he could never reach Mikey’s level of emotional intelligence. He had lived his entire life like a parasitic leech. Taking space and energy from a family that he could never contribute to.

Once again, Leo is clearly underestimating how much his position in the family is worth. Something, I think that Leo isn't understanding, is that while he may be leeching away energy, as the face man, its part of his role. He leeches away the bad, to keep team morale high, and leeches some good, to keep his own energy levels stable. Its just how it works.

He sauntered through the portal, feeling the cold burn of the mystic energy against his skin. Stark and biting like the deep currents of the ocean. A place he never should have been, a power he never should have had.

Oh, I love this description!! The way raw power just seems to emanate from his mystics, its just stunning!

The thought burned him, the boiling ocean of regret and turmoil lapping at the sand of his soul.

I'm enjoying how the ocean and the beach have been used numerous times as a metaphor for the soul, and emotions. It's a very good metaphor!

Leo stepped up to the edge overlooking the city, spinning his sword once at his side before holding it out to the side and dropping it onto the hard surface of the roof. It clattered, a cry of remorse and warning. Screaming at him to rethink his actions.

Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!

Leo stayed frozen on the edge, torn between the barriers between life and death. Curious.. Ever so curious what it would feel like to fly. To break out of his cocoon. To finally soar for once in his life before the swells swallowed him completely

What??... Just, what??? Did he jump, did he die?? What happened??? No, Leo, you precious baby, whyyyy??

[the--silent-hero]

Could we get more info about operator Link?

Sure! His Lore is pretty big so, imma write down some info which describe his personality and overal looks

His Father is Hayden from Dark Sector (as he looks similar to Link and thought it would be funny having him as Link's Dad lmao) which protected Link as he was a baby and his wife from a brutal Dax Attack (which he successfully defended). He teached Link a few years after with how to fight with his Glaive, which caused that Link accidentally cut his lower lip, in which he has now a deep scar on it

Link had a best friend on the Zariman which he crushed on but lost him during the Void Jump as they died. Link survived but barely as he was close to death as his almost entire body is filled with Void Scars. But before the Void Jump, he was pretty popular at the Zariman for his Music and Athletic Skills and he was even the Captian of Team Moon at the Lunaro Games and won Tournaments as well

He's a HUGE mommy boy, as he sees Lotus as his own mother by how much Lotus takes care of him with his issues.

Link found his Octavia Cadence at a broken and abandoned Corpus Danceclub, in which he took her to his Orbiter and worked for weeks to repair her. Ordis kept annoying Link, in which Link almost blew Cadence up, which made Link almost delete Ordis from his Ship System (almost. He did that later at another accident lmao)

Link also had a boyfriend before Lotus vanished, but they betrayed him in which Link broke down and made Vent Songs about his Feelings towards his Ex. Love, Anger, Sadness and Forgiveness. In which he made a Album out of it and released it, which got a massive hit from the Tenno all around the System.

One unreleased Song that didn't made it to the Album, was about Forgiveness and that he deserved it. Ordis (this stupid piece of shi-) accidentally released the unfinished and scrapped audio file on the internet, in which Link got furious and Ordis quickly deleted the file from the internet (but it was late anyway as the Fans found it quicker and now there are a bunch of remixes of it lol)

Link later on deleted Ordis from his Ship System and installed a new Cephalon, which's name is Amadeus (i even designed it. Might post it someday when i don't forget it)

As Link's Void Powers are way to weak and can barely hold a Transference with his Warframes, he decided to focus on his Music Career as he released more Singles and Albums and arranges Concerts. Baro (his manager lmao) takes care of the Merch and Album Sales and both discuss about basic things like "Ok what do you need for your music video?" and such. Basic buisness

Link has also a Void Demon Form in which he loses control and attacks everything he sees, which he doesn't have a deep connection on. Once he passed out and some Grineer took care of him and has now a Contract with them of giving them Ressources by the rescue and the Grineer wont attack Link

Another Fact is, Umbra hates Link. Like.. DEEEPLY. Umbra hunts down to kill Link. I can't say much yet because i need to replay the Quests and get a better idea of why and how.

Because Link and Lotus are close, Lotus grands Link a "Lotus Protector" Form, in which he protects Lotus from any harm, as Lotus has "control" over him to give him energy he needs to protect her

ALSO!!! He's bisexual! I don't mind if you guys ship him with your Operator, as long it is SFW and wholesome! I don't plan any canon relationships with Link so, go wild if you guys want!

And, Link is a lil cinnamon roll so, he can be pretty shy most times when he's around someone he likes

[dofengineeringemotions]

What is a Dark Ride?

A dark ride is an indoor amusement park attraction that combines physical ride elements with advanced technology, such as VR, augmented reality (AR), or projection mapping, to create an immersive storytelling experience. These attractions usually take place in a darkened environment, hence the name, and often involve a mix of live-action and animated characters, special effects, and interactive elements.

Dark ridemanufacturers have been around for decades, producing classic attractions such as Disneyland's Haunted Mansion and Pirates of the Caribbean. However, recent advancements in technology have allowed for increasingly sophisticated and immersive experiences that are revolutionizing the industry.

Behind the Scenes: Dark Ride Technology

At the heart of any dark ride is the seamless integration of technology and storytelling. This requires meticulous attention to detail and a deep understanding of the latest advances in VR, AR, and other immersive technologies.

One of the key components of a dark ride is the ride system itself, which can take various forms, such as trackless vehicles or motion simulators. These systems are designed to transport riders through the attraction while synchronizing their movement with the surrounding visuals and audio to create a fully immersive experience.

Another critical aspect is the use of projection mapping or other display technologies to create the virtual environments in which the ride takes place. This can involve anything from projecting images onto screens or physical sets to using AR headsets that overlay digital content onto the real world. The key is to create a seamless blend of physical and digital elements that fully envelop riders in the story.

Additionally, many dark rides incorporate interactive elements, allowing riders to engage with the experience in a more personal and meaningful way. This can involve using handheld devices to interact with the environment or even incorporating biometric data, such as heart rate or facial expressions, to tailor the experience to each rider.

The Future of Dark Rides and Virtual Reality

As technology continues to advance, we can expect to see even more impressive and immersive dark rides in the coming years. One of the most exciting trends is the growing use of AR and mixed reality technology, which has the potential to create truly seamless and convincing virtual worlds that blend seamlessly with the physical environment.

Another area of growth is the increasing use of artificial intelligence (AI) and machine learning to create more personalized and adaptive experiences. For example, AI could be used to analyze rider reactions and tailor the experience accordingly, ensuring that each individual has a unique and engaging journey through the attraction.

Finally, as the popularity of dark rides continues to grow, we can expect to see new and innovative partnerships between dark ride manufacturers, entertainment companies, and intellectual property holders. These collaborations will bring exciting new stories and characters to life, offering riders the chance to explore their favorite worlds and interact with their beloved characters in entirely new ways.

Ultimately, the future of dark rides and virtual reality lies in the continued pursuit of innovation and excellence by dark and simulator ride manufacturers, designers, and storytellers. As technology continues to evolve, we can expect the boundaries between reality and fantasy to blur even further, offering riders unparalleled experiences that ignite their imaginations and transport them to realms never before imagined.

[swimmingleo]

The Wizard of Oz: yet another conspiracy

It's about the infamous spinning around parallel, this one:

Why... would they do this.

Point is I've gone too far, Harryween happened, I fell into a Wizard of Oz rabbithole and found this that for some reason I've missed all this time, which happens to be mf Pink Floyd related because why wouldn't it be.

I promise it kind of adds up in the end, but it's mostly me... clowning.

The Dark Side of the Rainbow:

It's an old Pink Floyd theory and one of the most well-known in the band's lore: it started around the 80's with the popularization of videotapes. One day, someone just had the idea to mute the Wizard of Oz (1939) and play The Dark Side of the Moon (1973) over it right at the beginning of the movie (the third roar from the MGM lion). A scarily accurate synchronization resulted, to the point where one could ask themselves if the album was indeed produced as an alternate soundtrack to the film.

cut, im pouring mercy on the dash

Just your average fan theory, which really took off in the 90s and surprisingly received a lot of response. The album's audio engineer called it "eyewash" and an impossible thing to do with the technology they had back then. (which is. really not true. You could do it, it was just terribly impractical. then again if you're crazy enough..)

David Gilmour and Nick Mason, guitarist and drummer of the band, also vehemently denied the theory: total non sense and a waste of time.

basically everyone got real pressed for no reason lol it's a cute fan theory guys not gAy rUmOuRs cmon

HOWEVER, there is one person who never denied it and it's the guy who literally conceptualized the entire album. Indeed, Roger Waters found the theory "amusing" and had even referenced Over The Rainbow in later album The Wall (and seeing how frustrated he gets when the audience doesn't engage with their music the way he'd like, it almost feels like he was encouraging the theory but then again. pure assumption idk shit)

So yeah, make what you want of this dysfunctional band's response to the theory.

Okay but does it really work ?

There have been psychological explanations of the phenomenon: the theory has been dismissed as the brain always finding connections and parallels between different elements: if you're looking for something, you find it. Yes, this explains various fan theories like the Beatles' ''Paul is dead'', or crispy audios we have around here (pReTtY uNfoRtUnaTe) where the perception is influenced by what we're told to hear or what we want to see. If you play any random music over any random movie, you will always find synchronized moments. But I think the Dark Side of The Rainbow goes beyond that: you can actually make out obvious interpretations and patterns that make sense with the rest of their discography or what they said about certain things/songs. The album actually matches the movie’s narration or the transitions between scenes. But once again, the theory has been associated with crazy delusional fans on acid who live on conspiracies so... (so larrie of em)

Here you have the full movie, with the album playing on loop over it (cuz it's an album designed to be played on loop). Most little moments feel like those funny coincidences I mentioned before, like a character moving, dancing or speaking on beat, but some others are like... too much for me to dismiss as coincidences, because they carry some deep PF-esque meaning. I won't get much into it here cuz we don't have time for that~ but if you're a PF fan interested by the topic feel free to send me an ask and we'll rant about it it's honestly so cool ffgeifzji

Still, I really recommend to watch this specific part:

There isn't any kind of edit to make it fit. It just naturally goes smooth like that.

CMON IT'S. IT'S WEIRD.

Also the front and back cover of the album:

...No colour > Colour > Back to no colour // Sepia > Technicolor > Back to sepia.

If you're wondering why Roger Pink Floyd would go this far to hint at a movie which had a massive impact on queer culture ever since WW2, and how it could be even more relevant to Larry, here <3

AND LARRY BITCH??

Do we know other weirdos with too much time on their hands who do weird shit with synchronization in their art yes we doooo.

So, the shot of them filmed by a camera spinning like a tornado, in an already spinning setting (twirling dancers) in MVs loaded with queer symbolism.

last one just because... SOTT sounds a lot like The Great Gig in the Sky to me. Also he's flying passing by a rainbow at some point so.

The tornado scene is the core of the Dark Side of the Rainbow theory. The music and image go incredibly well together: the piano starting on the first gust of wind, the music gradually getting louder with the chaos on screen until it suddenly calms down when Dorothy’s unconscious in the eye of the tornado. Music ends when the tornado stops for good. But also the symbolism of that song and that scene combined: The Great Gig in The Sky is part of the transition between the first and the second part of the album and it evokes death. The tornado in Oz is the transition between sepia and technicolor, two different worlds and technically.. it's Dorothy's departure from earth to somewhere over the rainbow.

Meanwhile, TPWK is in black and white, Walls is colorized. Both songs represent a significant milestone in their respectives careers. That theme of "I used to feel bad, but I've made peace with myself and now I feel better".

The TPWK/Walls parallel starts at 1:41. Solely based on that film video I linked earlier, The Wizard of Oz is 1:41:47 long. So like. If they wanted to be little shits and choose a precise timestamp that would hint at the Oz synchronicity theory...

... I just like the idea of Harry and Louis scanning the internet for some rbb/sbb ideas, stumbling upon (or already knowing) the Dark Side of the Rainbow and being like.. aha, we could do that at some point. Because in the end, whether it's intentional or not, it's a pretty big pop culture fan theory, and they've both already hinted at PF and Oz.

All in all, the first person who had the idea to play Pink Floyd's album over the Wizard of Oz would have made an excellent delusional larrie and I wish they were here.

[treybriggsthewriter]

This makes me nervous, but I’m going to post it. I’m going to try my best to achieve my goals. I’ve put in a ton of work already, so I’m looking for additional help. 

From the campaign:

My name is Trey Briggs, and I'm a black woman who writes paranormal horror, speculative fiction, and other types of fiction. You can find my stories at MaybeTrey , Astrid the Devil , and on Instagram , Medium , and Wattpad .

My stories are aimed at black people who want to read dark stories that focus on original black characters that are complex and interesting. I genuinely believe Black audiences deserve a variety of genres to delve into, and I want to introduce them to paranormal horror, dark romance, and fantasy that they haven't gotten enough of in the past. I also believe that this can be done across multiple mediums, and I spend my money with black creative professionals to make these experiences extend beyond my words. For the last two years, I've run my stories on sites and Instagram to great reception. I like to craft complex experiences that offer looks at character backgrounds, side and backstories, full websites for each title, and more. I also provide encyclopedias, maps, audio journals, and other ways to get into each world. During these last few years, I've run into a lot of walls, jumped a lot of hurdles, and tried my best. I've worked with amazing black artists, voice actors, and actresses, musicians, designers, and more. I trust my ability to run a project, especially when it comes to planning and finding talent. My overall goal is to run a team of black creatives that crafts novels, graphic novels, audio experiences, and animated series for a dedicated audience.

Why I Need Help Long story short: I have the skill, I have the marketing/website building/business experience, and I have the drive. There's a lot I can do on my own, but there's also a lot that gets left behind because I don't have the money I need to proceed at a steady pace. I need help with funding so I can focus, hire the right people, and craft these stories the way they deserve to be crafted. I have thus far spent over $60,000 of my own money on my projects over the past two years - the writing and site-building are easy for me; the rest has to be hired out. I have art, site costs for hosting, domains, templates, specific plugins, and maintenance, audio (and vocal artists to pay), musical, and editing costs. I'm by no means rich or even particularly financially stable. I have taken on tons of extra clients for my digital marketing business, transcribed hundreds of hours of audio for dirt cheap, and taken out personal loans. I even worked a second full-time job along with my full-time business last year to afford to produce the content I love. It's starting to take a toll on my mental health. I plan on continuing to fund these projects out of pocket (and finding ways to do so), but having financial help, however big or small, would allow me to move a lot faster and with less stress. It would let me flesh out ideas and concepts that I have had to scrap because I can only physically handle so much extra work. I run a full-time marketing business from home, homeschool my autistic 10-year-old, and generally have a busy life. Some of the strain is taking a toll on me, and I don't want to give up. Having some financial backing could allow me to drop a client or two after a few months and focus on the work I love to do.

How You Can Help I mainly need a start—a sort of base. I want to emphasize that I plan to continue to provide the main bulk of funding for my projects. I know my goals are ambitious, and I know each step will take time and money. I welcome any help to make the process smoother and to get around the initial hurdles. I'd like to have ebooks and novels offered on my site by the end of the year (along with the free serials and stories). Funding means that I can broaden the projects, include more free aspects to my sites, and secure direct financing through sales of ebooks and audiobooks sooner. It also means that I can offer MORE stories, whether they are online only or fully fleshed out novels and sites. I am swamped with trying to work enough to cover all my bills and creative projects, so I lose a lot of time I could spend plotting and writing. If I have better funding, I can get my stories out quicker (and with fewer mistakes).

The Initial Stories Let's talk about my stories! If you're familiar with my work already, you can skip to the next section. My main story site is Maybe Trey . Currently, I have two big titles and a bunch of smaller ones that I am seeking help with funding: Astrid the Devil

Astrid the Devil is the complicated story of a girl who inherits not only her family's features and DNA, but their fears, struggles, and fights. It's the story of a condition called Devil Syndrome, the women who suffer it, and the monsters that devour them. It's the story of the fight to save the people you love at the expense of innocent lives. At its core, Astrid the Devil is the story of a woman who inherits the chaos of three generations before her. It's a look at what is truly passed down to our children, and how they're left to fight our battles in the aftermath of our failures. It's the tale of an indescribable monster and the women who struggle to defeat it. It's a journey into how their every decision could save or destroy an entire world. Astrid the Devil is the story of Astrid Snow, but her story can't be told without the story of the women before her.

Vicious: On MaybeTrey  and The Vicious site (in progress)

Somewhere, a war is brewing.  That's the only thing that's for sure to Junnie Gorton, a young horned girl suffering from a debilitating disease called Horn Rot. She typically dealt with her low survival rate and abnormally large horns by escaping the world with her best friend, Lewish. Now she's forced to figure out which side is which, save her entire species, and find out the truth behind the sudden uprising in her home. Horn Rot, a highly contagious and violent disease spreading through horned people, is causing mass amounts of madness and death. Normal horns grow in ways that will pierce, suffocate, and maim their owners, and the only one who can stop it is Junnie's mother, Lyria. As Lyria falls deeper and deeper into an anti-social revolt, the country reels. While Junnie broods, her entire species must prepare for mass extinction. Her brother plots with a group of people with less than good intentions and Lewish is quieter than usual. In a civilization brought up on extreme violence and competition, Junnie and Lewish try their best not to get swallowed by their culture, their lives, or their horns.

Bunni and Bosque :

Bunni lives. Bosque dies. We all know how this story starts. Bunni is obsessed with destruction and death. She comes from the healthiest Horned family in her country. She's from the oldest, purest bloodline in the world. And she's bored with it. Bunni spends most of her time trying to escape her duties as a pureblood. She wants things dirty, messy, foul, inconsistent. Having parents that are willing to kill to keep their bloodline pure is annoying. Knowing that she'll live a long, full life, produce more perfect children, and die unscathed is agonizing. Bunni wants something to mourn. We all know how this story ends. Bosque is destined to die an agonizing death, alone on his family's land. He's watched everyone he loved and grew up with perish. Sometimes it was because of their disease. Sometimes it was because of the malice and hatred of others. While he's absolutely withdrawn and satisfied with his life, Bosque has never had a chance to live it. He spends his days basking in the sun, bathing in wood baths, and contemplating the end. Bosque isn't interested in joining the rest of the world. He'd rather die out, alone, where his family belonged. Bosque wants to go peacefully. But neither expected to meet each other one day in a supermarket. Neither expected to fall in love, lust, and every vicious and dirty thing between. Neither expected to be so right for each other, all while being wrong for everyone else. You know the end of this story. Bunni lives, Bosque dies. But maybe something will change.

My smaller titles, Bunni and Bosque /Aite and Jude, can be found at Maybe Trey .

The Business Plan

The initial phase of my business plan is to get the sites populated with ebooks and audiobooks for sale. I also have prints that can be sold. Right now, I am in the audience-building phase while I save up for editing the full novels. 

In terms of an actual business with which to publish the stories, I already have a registered publication company in Illinois: Wolfless Studios LLC. I took this step earlier this year with plans to self-publish Astrid and Vicious. So that is paid for and done.

I have also gotten initial editing done on the first six chapters of Astrid, though it will need to be edited from the beginning again once everything is said and done. I've spent over $1000 on that so far, and it would go a lot faster if I didn't need to save up to edit each chapter.

Astrid the Devil is fully plotted, outlined, and only needs the last three chapters. Bunni and Bosque and Vicious are newer, but plotted and already deep into character development (all being shared across social and Wattpad for audience growth). Aite and Jude and other shorts are plotted, and three other unshared stories are plotted and at the editing phase.

Other costs and ways I would use the funding (I would still put in my own money and do as much on my own as possible):

Initial $30K

$6000 - $7000 Line and Copy edits for Astrid (currently at 250000+ words/expecting over 300000 at $0.02 rate)

$6000 - $7000 Line and Copy Edits for Vicious

$3000 - $4000 Line and Copy Edits for Bunni and Bosque

ISBN Purchases (Separate ISBN for each format for each book) - https://www.myidentifiers.com/identify-protect-your-book/barcode

Covers for Astrid/Vicious/B&B Print Versions

Site Hosting Costs and Maintenance for 2 Years

Site completion for all stories

Initial store and app development

40K - Marketing and Graphic Novels

Social, Print, and Web ads

Email Marketing Campaigns 

Booths at Decatur Book Festival (depending on COVID)

Social ads and promos

50 to 60 pages

First two chapters offered as free promo with email sign-ups

Audio journals for each character

Situational audio journals

Encyclopedia for Astrid (finishing up)/Vicious

65K - Hires and Next Phases

Ability to hire a Full-Time Editor 

Audio Series for each (professionally done)

Vicious Graphic Novel

Additional Title Added

Short animations for both Vicious and Astrid (with plans to fund more with book sales)

Fleshed out Story Sections (Novellas for each character of each series)

Short comic series with Astrid and Vicious side characters

Possible to plan out monthly subscription service with new stories and 'story package' deliveries

75K -

Astrid the Devil Graphic Novel

Vicious Graphic Novel

Astrid the Devil Animated Short

Ability to hire part-time Web Developer

Additional bigger title

Anything Over - I ascend into pure light. And also, I can add titles, cover more mediums, and eventually expand my publishing to other black creatives.

From there, I should be able to handle the funding via sales of books, comics, audio, and more. Again, I will always offer mostly free content across the sites.

I believe in proof of concept, and I have diehard fans on my social platforms. With no outside funding, I've been able to a lot on my own. I'd love to expand my business into one that does the same for other black authors, artists, voice actors, and animators somewhere down the line. 

Thank you so much for your consideration. I appreciate all my readers, present and future, and I appreciate any help!

See incentives and more on the actual campaign: https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-trey-publish-black-paranormal-horror-stories

Thank you so much!

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 10 “The Elevator” [Episode List] After visiting a friend’s house, Tim and the gassy-as-usual Dave take a really slow elevator together.

The Elevator

I took a quick sip of beer as our friend Adam left the living room to get another can in his fridge. What was left was a weirdly awkward silence and Dave, with his own beer, glaring at me.

“Dude,” he whispered. “It’s been a hour. I thought you were gonna tell him.”

I chose Adam as the first non-Dave bud to come out to, but it ended up being surprisingly hard to do. It’s not like Dave was forcing me or anything, or that Adam was a bad person; on the contrary, Dave was simply there with me as my emotional support in case things go south (but we both know they won’t) and Adam was, well, just Adam. Dave’s rightful reaction to me not coming out as planned didn’t bother me and as I said he wasn’t there to intimidate a confession out of me.

“Look, I don’t feel ready, okay?”

“You’ve been talking about the weather for 20 minutes.” he hissed. “What’s next? Geology?”

I chuckled. “Actually, this reminds me that they found this weird rock in South Amer-“

“I can’t believe this.”

“What’s not to believe? You take a big shovel and-“

“And I’m gonna dig my own grave if you start talking about rocks.”

I chuckled again. I know he wasn’t really mad.

Annoyed? Maybe. But mad? Nah, that’s a stretch.

He had all the rights to be annoyed though, but in the end it was my decision to make and he knew this.

We kept whispering as we heard Adam rummaging the fridge like some kind of raccoon longing for a cold drink.

“Look.” I said. “it’s late now anyway. Let’s just leave. Sorry I wasted your time.”

“Fine.” he replied. “Let’s finish our beers first at least.”

“That goes without saying.” and I took a long sip.

Truth is that I hadn’t any real reason to hide my homosexuality from Adam or any other of my buds actually. First, we’re in our 20s, we’re all mature and open-minded here. And in the end, excluding the whole fart-thing going on with Dave, they were all like him, chill guys. Adam, despite always sounding like someone who wants to have none of your shit, or anyone’s shit really, more than once proved that it’s just a facade and not-so-deep down he’s always ready to listen and back you up whenever you needed it. He did just listen to me talking about the weather for 20 minutes, so either he’s fascinated by the subject or knows I’m trying to tell him something else and is just patiently waiting.

The thought of wasting both of my buds’ time in a way or another kind of bothered me to be honest, so I was more than okay with wrapping things up and just leave, which me and Dave did mere minutes later.

“See you bro.” my bud said to Adam, standing by the door, as we went outside in the hallway, not far from the stairs and the elevator “Tim wants to talk about rocks so I’m taking him out of here before he kills you with boredom.”

“The one they dug up in Colombia?” Adam asked, much to our surprise.

“Yeah.” I answered. “They know it’s andesite but it has some interesting carvings on the surface and-“

A startled “What the fuck.” from Dave echoed in the hallway and the entire apartment building.

“What the fuck indeed.” Adam uttered, rather excitedly, completely missing the point. “This could change the archeo-history of the entire region.”

“I heard enough.” Dave said as he walked towards the elevator.

Both me and the other rock-enthusiast laughed at his reaction.

“By the way, I’m going to join you for a bit as I gotta walk the dog.” Adam remembered, reaching for a leash behind him.

“We’ll see you outside then.” Dave replied and then turned to me. “Tim, elevator, now.” he ordered.

“You sure, guys? You remember that thing is slow as shit, right?”

“We’ll be fine.” my bud said, patting my back. “I guess I’ll make Tim last longer then.” he joked.

“That only happens when you call me ‘daddy’” I joked back, as we walked towards the elevator, leaving our common friend behind.

“Rrrright.” Adam said. “I’ll get the dog while you two solve your sexual tension. See you outside.”

I pressed the button to summon the lift, Dave’s arm still around my shoulder as if he had something to show me. Truth to be told, I somehow knew where this was going.

As the panels of the door opened, we stepped into the elevator cab. I pressed the “G” on the control panel. I heard a mechanical noise and the elevator started its long, slow descent (we were at the 10th floor), after the doors closed behind us of course.

It was a cold evening and the cab wasn’t any warmer. I turned to Dave, who was wearing a dark blue hoodie and a pair of grey jeans. He looked at me with a smirk, hands in his jeans pockets; he raised his eyebrows and, without warning, a loud thunder echoed in that enclosed moving space.

The roaring fart had a slow start, with some interruptions, actually a sign for how big it was, but Dave, being an expert, quickly tamed the gassy beast and properly “tuned” the sound of the blast after a couple of seconds, keeping a consistent pitch, while also making it sound loud and deep. It felt like he was ripping one of those huge “when the girl finally leaves” farts, only, well, Dave-sized, which is always a sight to behold… hear? In this case there was no girl so he probably simply held all of his farts in to not ruin “the moment”, in case I wanted to come out back at Adam’s place (with beer acting as a bonus fuel).

A silly smile was drawn on my bro’s face as the fart kept going strong and proud, sometimes reaching some incredibly loud moments. He chuckled a bit and even winked at me when the blast made some particularly “meaty” noises, if that makes any sense. The fart was impressive on his own but Dave “interacting” with me while still masterfully passing gas was incredible as well (and, of course, hot).

The number 6 on the control panel lightened up and only in that moment I realized two things: the first being that the elevator was indeed slow as fuck; the second is that around 40 seconds passed and neither Dave nor his fart “flinched”. I was widely aroused by that and I felt the air around us getting more and more “polluted”, but not in an unbearable way actually. The blast kept echoing inside the elevator and I’m pretty sure that it could have been easily heard, albeit a bit muffled, by anyone taking the stairs.

Dave farted in my face many times, but no fart reached the length and power of this one, which is saying a lot. My bud’s butt-burps normally last around 6-12 seconds and don’t get me wrong they’re amazing, but man, maybe this one rip would have been too much to endure even for me: it simply wouldn’t stop. It’s like there was a loud engine in the elevator which couldn’t be turned off as I couldn’t hear anything else.

I was instead the opposite of turned off and teasing bastard Dave Maning knew this and, as usual, had no issue with it. At this point it was a race between Dave’s longest fart and the world’s slowest elevator.

We were now at the 3rd floor and my bud probably wanted to do a “big finale”; he was visibly pushing the blast out now, as if he wanted it to last as long as possible, a smirk still drawn on his face. He closed his eyes and the sound made it look like another fart was ripped over the sound of the previous fart, as if two audio channels in his ass somehow overlapped. The sound was of course louder than ever; the smell now, and only now, getting a bit hard to get used to. But to be honest, Dave’s skills as a sound designer alone were impressive enough.

A big part of me, mainly the one between my legs, wanted to get on my knees and plant my face in his denim ass before the fart faded out, but I knew that would have been too much even for such a chill guy like him. I’m sure he wouldn’t hate me or anything at this point but we both know there are some untold boundaries and honestly it’s better this way. I know how lucky I am to have someone like him around (farts or not).

My farting bro probably read my mind as he slowly turned around and got closer, again without affecting the fart’s quality and, being a bit taller then me, basically farted on the upper part of my hip. It almost made my entire body shake due to its power and it felt good. Now I really wanted to bend down as if I was tying my shoes but what stopped me this time was also the thought of… not surviving. I was familiar with Dave’s farts but this was absurdly powerful even for him.

And finally, as Dave resumed his previous position, again looking at me, the fart stopped, followed by my friend letting out a relieved whistle, and then an immature cackle.

Not even 2 seconds after that the elevator reached its destination, stopping as well. I jokingly clapped my hand and shook my head in disbelief. “Bravo!” I said, as if I just watched some fancy stage play.

Dave simply smiled and turned his back at me to face the exit, as we both waited for the just-as-slow panel doors to open.

“At least not all the time here was wasted.” he laughed.

“Bro, we had a beer together. That’s never a waste of time for me.” I replied.

“Wow. Rocks, gay and cringe. You got it all, Tim!” he replied.

We both laughed at me being needlessly cheesy and finally stepped out of that gas chamber. Someone stepped in the cab as we left it and the doors closed, leaving us in the hallway at the ground floor. We heard muffled coughing noises almost immediately and we laughed again, as we knew the disgusting reason. Poor, innocent soul.

“Ok but bro” Dave then said, looking a bit more serious. “You gotta do it someday. Trust me you can trust all of us.”

“I know man.” I replied, as we walked towards the exit “Next time I meet Adam, doesn’t matter where and when, I’m gonna tell him that I’m gay.”

My voice echoed in the building and through the stairs, but I didn’t care.

“You’re… gay?”

Okay, I cared.

We both turned around, puzzled.

It was Adam, right behind us (with this dog on leash), descending one last set of stairs before ending up in front of us. Somehow he’s been slower than the elevator, which both me and Dave found hilarious but I also had other emotions going on that moment.

Dave patted my shoulder encouragingly and stepped back: it was my time to shine.

“Yep.” I simply said. “I wanted to tell you hours ago but I didn’t have the guts to do it.”

Adam just stared at me with a confused expression.

I didn’t feel as nervous as I anticipated. “Yes, Dave knows it…” I quickly added, noticing him staring at my other straight bud. “And I asked him to not tell anyone.”

A moment of silence followed and those always feel like they last hours.

“I mean you two clearly have been dating each other for years” Adam joked. “So it’s no surprise, really.”

“WHAT WE HAVE IS SPECIAL!” Dave shouted, jokingly faking a desperate reaction.

I simply laughed and before I could process how well everything was going I felt Adam doing something very unusual for him: he hugged me.

“I’m glad you told me, man.” he simply said. “You know you can count on us.”

I know times have changed and all but this felt like a victory. Every time I’m gonna come out to a friend of mine it’s one step closer to the peak of a mountain and once at the top I will finally-

“Fuck, I forgot my phone.” Adam said, patting his pockets. “I’ll just take the elevato-“

“NOOO!” both me and Dave screamed, knowing that it was still a deadly gas chamber.

Adam simply replied with an annoyed expression and went for the stairs, the dog just behind him.

“Oh hey by the way.” I asked. “What took you so long? You said the elevator was slow but somehow we made it here before you.”

“Don’t underestimate me.” he replied. “It’s just that I heard some weird noises echoing through the stairs and me and another guy tried to understand what it was.”

Dave tried to not to burst into laughter, while I simply smiled like an idiot. Adam and his dog then went up the stairs and left us in silence, not until my gassy bro decided to break it the way he usually does.

A loud fart erupted and echoed through the building, only lasting around 4 seconds this time.

“There it is again!” we heard Adam say, a couple floors above us.

Me and Dave shared an amused look and went outside trying to not laugh like immature idiots. I felt the cold weather all over me, which was relieving considering the gas trap I’ve been trapped into only minutes earlier.

Despite a slow, yet really entertaining elevator ride, and my awkwardness, no time went wasted today.

“I’m proud of you, bro.” Dave said, this time serious, but still smiling.

“Wow.” I replied. “Straight and cringe. You got it all, Dave.” and winked at him.

“Don’t get too cocky now, rock nerd.”

I was rock-hard, to be more precise that’s for sure, but that was a detail I’d take care of later, perhaps thinking back of that absurd elevator ride. Whenever I’m with Dave, I’ll make sure we’re never taking the stairs again.

End of Episode 10

[skloomdumpster]

Can we talk about the cinnamontography of Fate please

I

Anooon! What's up with anons spoiling me lately to hear my bafoon takes? Anyway, obligatory disclaimer that I'm REALLY bad with cinematography and it took me three years of movie school to understand what I should've learned in the first semester :)) Read this bs at your own risk >:)

Unlike costume design and plot where I had this huuuge huge rant, I think I cam summarize my feelings here as "not interesting enough". As far as my understanding goes cinematography is how you place your camera, or rather, your characters/world before your lenses and what you're trying to communicate with that.

Fate feels pretty standard and generic regarding this. I think they have only a handful of beautiful shots and that actually communicate something deeper than just simple back and forth, and they also have a handful of disgusting shots that make me, a self declared stupid individual on this matter, look at it like ??? the FUCK.

I don't have long coherent thoughts, so I'll just paste here the pretty and the ugly ones and ramble a bit:

The Pretty Ones

1x01 - The Specialist's training grounds:

I really adore this entire sequence. Camera wise its very purposeful and beautiful. It shows us how the training grounds integrate with the school and I like that it shows all of them actually exercising in different ways, having their own matches and going off on their own. I can really get a feel of how Silva commandeers and oversees their training. Also really adore the rhythm on how they cut between wide shots, to full shots, then medium shots then a back and forth between medium shots and close ups. It makes the scene feel dynamic, the close ups are used to convey familiarity between Sky/Riven and it just flows very quickly, despite being a long sequence.

1x01 - Bloom's face off with her parents:

I think this is a GREAT example of good cinematography in the show, because I fucking hate this scene. Bloom's anger feels real and this is largely because of the framing in this. B starts telling the story to Aisha and we cut to a super close up, we're in Bloom's mental state. We don't know yet what is happening. I like that we zoom out to set the scene, but not enough to remove us from Bloom's deep concentration. Then the harsh cut to Mike removing her door, medium shot, very jarring with what we were just watching, which makes sense because it takes Bloom by surprise! This entire scene has amazing face acting, both Bloom and Vanessa's actresses are talented enough to show their emotions on their faces and they edited with all the audio overlapping, so when B is speaking it's Vanessa we're seeing and vice versa. It's just a little bit more spicy than the average of the show which is to show us the character that is speaking and then so forth and I think it really adds here! Also adore that the camera stays in the hallway when Bloom enters her bedroom, showing us the day turning to night, instead of just harshly cutting to a dark scene! I like the camera, the audience, entering her room slowly, we're prying those memories out of her! Just overall beautiful framing and acting here.

1x01 - Bloom watching her parents:

This fucking scene. Okay this is NOT the greatest example, I think of all the ones mentioned so far is one of the worst. But it does have some pretty cool ideas: Bloom standing outside her family home, having her parents appear very tiny first and hammer in that she's an outside, she's looking at this life through a window. When her parents say "we love you" and we don't see their face, we only see Bloom's in a medium close up, giving in to a full body shoulder, hanging up and choking down the tears. Standing there gazing out to this life where she doesn't belong anymore, where she's just been told she doesn't belong. All while not moving the camera, all in Bloom's face and body acting!! Beautiful. Really beautiful, a trust vote for the audience. Bad point of the scene: giving us the inside of the house, especially showing Vanessa's burn marks up close. If they hadn't been cowards and given her actual full body burns, then we could've done this entire shot far away and outside the place and it would've been 10/10. It's a 7/10 as it stands.

1x02 Saul and Farah walking together: beaaautiful shot, so haunting, so in synch. Oof

1x 02 - The girls find the Burned One's destruction: this shot right here and how haunting it is! How the camera makes it look like this large battle field, when it's actually just five fallen people and probably no distance at all! Literally going over the girl's head! Making them smaller in comparison to the stretch of destruction they just walked in. Pretty!!

FINALLY, the prettiest shot in the entire show:

1x05 - Terra and Riven talk

The DISTANCE between them, the fixed camera, the awkwardness. Riven fully emotionally open and disarmed, legs open, chest open, hands out. Terra holding herself tight, hands clasped, legs shut, arms squeezed in, looking away. A literal friendly battle going on as their background!! God, I don't think i've seen a shot that wordlessly communicates so much so easily in a WHILE. This is the fucking highlight of the entire show, I'm not taking criticism on this one.

The Ugly Ones

Okay this post is pretty damn long, so I'm just going to include two scenes. But there are plenty more :))

1x05 - Sky facing off Silva

This scene is a "framing mistakes 101" . Sky is not the illuminated one, he's not the one who should be under the light. He's metaphorically the one in the dark! And yes, words could be said about this actually meaning Sky is innocent vs Silva's not, but I think it would be much more meaningful if we went with the different approach. Also, in this scene they overuse super close ups so much, it gets boring to watch, none of their facial expressions are groundbreaking and telling us anything new. In the two previous scenes with Bloom's close ups, Bloom snarled and nearly jumped her mom and the other one she was literally in pain while pretending not to be. There are so many things being said through her face. In here Sky is just confused and we know this by the plain dialogue, why do I have to keep seeing his face and then Silva when he speaks and then Sky- It's just boring.

1x04 - Sky and Riven's face off.

There IS such a thing as trying too hard. This scene tries so badly to be edgy and artsy, to be creative! All it manages it's to be nauseating to watch, difficult to comprehend and poorly executed. These two are best friends fighting over something that's been brimming since the pilot of the show, implicitly since before s1 starts. Riven straight up says more than one deep insecurity of his. And YET we have this weird stiff camera, a whole half a yard between them, zero emotional impact. Riven goes on to throw on Sky's face that he's a hypocrite and nothing NOTHING lands! We're so caught up with the camera twirling around that all the emotional punches fly out of the window.

[storysofmyown]

Seven stages of love Chapter 7, Epilogue: Philutia

Summary: Ever since the Celestial War, since they all fell, Asmodeus has  dedicated himself to his sin. Not caring about anything else, but  drowning himself in the pleasure and ecstasy of it all. But not anymore,  now he cant even handle the idea of it. But, what else is there to want? After so long of having indulged in his sin, what is there than  Asmodeus is looking for, something that will fill him, and that wont  drive him to destruction? Perhaps his brothers can help him with that. Warnings will appear in each chapter.  

Read on ao3

Word Count: 1818

Trigger Warning: None that I can think of. If you find any feel free to let me know so I can add them!

The house of lamentation was in an absolute uproar. Noises coming from every room in the house. Lucifer had his classical music on an all time high, his own way to shut away the noises that were coming from the kitchen, as Belphegor and Beel attempted to make some horrific concoction that went against Solomon's own cooking. As well as Mammon’s music that was blaring from his room, apparently having entered a context where the louder he listened to music, the more opportunity he had to win, meanwhile Leviathan was showing Satan an anime, the music of the intro being able to be heard through the entire house as it fought with that of his brothers. Except from one demon, who although had been having a messy head, who's words and screams were louder than all the noises in the house, was now oddly quiet. As he smiled at himself in the mirror.

Asmodeus placed the perfume bottle down, picking up the earrings Mammon had given him in exchange for having sold his designer shoes. They were quite pretty, for having been a gift from Mammon. The demon let out chuckle, it was...odd. Being able to look at himself in the mirror once more, gone the feeling disgust. A few days ago, he would have been to the point we're if he caught a glance of himself in the mirror, it would have been broken in a million pieces, accompanied by the blood that would have been pouring from his wounds. But now...now he was once more able to smile at the demon reflected in the mirror. A real smile, not like the ones be had given for so many years in order to fool himself and convince the corroded carcass of a demon to go out into the world.

Now, he was able to see himself. The real Asmodeus, the one that had been locked away from all that pain and all those desires, the one that wasn't controlled by the feeling of lust and the sin that had place a chain around his wrists and a leash on his neck. Finally allowing himself to breath the perfume of roses that lingered in his room, instead of the despair that came from his mind. Now he was ready to go out into the world again. But the world that he wanted to go out to, wasn't the same as the one he thought he needed. And he just hoped they would like the new Asmodeus, along with what he had to say, and how he wanted to say it.

"Asmo?"

Belphegor’s voice made Beel stop mid bite, looking in the direction his brother was. He had just entered the kitchen and was looking at the two with curiosity, not only that but he had adorned himself in the usual clothes he would wear to go out. Although, those were less...loud.

"Hi!" He spoke in his usual cherry tone, making the twins look at each other.

"You look nice." Beel spoke, food still in his mouth before he finished the bite.

"Are you going out?" The youngest leaned against the counter, fluffing the pillow in his hands slightly before his eyes fell on the older brother, who was ravaging the cabinets searching for all kinds of things.

"Nope! I was actually thinking of doing a movie night." The click of the bowl as it was set down on the table, and the crinkling of the bags, made Beel hungry, but aside from that, it attracted some other demon into the kitchen, who had been avoiding finding the eldest all afternoon.

"Yo, y'all cooking something?"

"Mammon! Perfect timing~" The fifth eldest grabbed onto the Avatar of greed's arm, pulling him into the kitchen and proceeding to place the bowl on his hands, already full. "Here, see that Beel doesn't eat them yet." As he spoke, he started taking cups out if the cabinets, and ice from the fridge.

"Oi, hold on. You can't just grab me and pull me like that-, Beel!" Mammon glared at his younger brother, who’s hand was almost already inside the bowl, mumbling an apology as he retracted it. "What are you even doing?"

"He's doing a movie night." Belphegor spoke, although none of the demons in the room knew if he was awake of asleep.

"We are making a movie night! None of you are escaping." Asmo stated, placing the cups, already full, in a tray. "Here, Belphie, you take this to the room. Beel, would you be a dear and search for some more food? We know it won't be nearly enough for all of us. I'll go get the others! You three wait for me in the living room~"

After searching through his home for the remaining of his brothers, two of them being more reluctant to participate, as he had expected. He and Lucifer went to the twin’s room and came back with an array of pillows and blankets to get comfortable all over the floor, at which Levi complained, only to be quickly shut up as they reminded him the position he took to play. Asmo finally managed to get all of them into the living room just in time to catch Beel almost eating from the bowl he had entrusted Mammon to protect. After a couple of more complaints, and a silent glare from Lucifer, Asmodeus finally managed to have all his brothers sit down.

"...ok, so you have us all here. Now what?" Leviathan asked, a little annoyed at having had his game taken away from him, just when he was about to beat a hard level.

"Now, we obviously watch a movie, dummy~" Asmo spoke from his position as he set up a DVD player, making Satan frown.

"I didn't know we still owned one of those."

"Hold on, isnt that-"

"Yes, Levi, this is yours. I think you saved it a long time ago in the attic." Asmo said, turning the device on and place a DVD inside the player, quickly hooking it up to the tv and sitting between him brothers, shoving Belphie to the side, effectively waking him up. "Now, get cozy, we are spending the whole night together~" he chuckles, only for some of his brothers to groan, although, none of them tried to get away from him and just smiled as the movie started.

It had been a few hours, and the known Avatar of Lust, along with the rest of his family, had went on to go on with their movie night. Well, movie night was to put it highly, in fact, they were watching some videos. This was what the Avatar of Lust truly wanted to do, spend time with his family, as he remembered how important they were. Videos from all the years they had spent together. Recorded in old cameras that at the time where the best technology possible. Old phones and pictures, them all sharing their own thoughts and stories behind all the images that flashed by. At first, they all seemed to be surprised that those were the 'movies' Asmodeus was referring too. But after a while, they grew fond of the idea, basking in the old memories and even sharing even older ones from the time they fell and fond times they remembered from the celestial realm, telling Satan all about them. Although, a certain older demon noticed how the young Avatar or Lust got slightly increasingly nervous each time it moved to another section. Until it got to a video, the quality as of the D.D. D’s they used now, and it showed Asmo, in his room, alone.

"...uh, hi?" The Asmo in the video spoke. By his state, they all could tell he had been obviously tired when recording this. "So, I'm...making this to put my thoughts in order, I guess?" He looked directly into the camera. "...but as I pressed the button I realized that...all I have in mind and all that I truly want to say is...thank you..."

The audio paused for a moment, an obvious distressed Asmo taking a moment to collect himself, the brothers all looked at the Asmodeus that was currently sitting between them all. Wide eyes in shock. The demon could feel the eyes on him, making a light pink come to his cheeks as he watched himself in the video. A slight feeling of shame, no, perhaps embarrassment at having decided to approach the situation in such a way.

“Asmo what is-” Lucifer was cut off by the video finishing, the screen turning dark. All brothers looking confused at Asmodeus, who could barely muster the courage to look at any of them, so, instead, he kept his sight glued to the floor, before speaking.

“I know…I have been difficult lately, and that you all have had a hard time dealing with me and…and all my questions. But…after speaking with every single one of you…” A small smile comes to his lips as he remembered the conversations, and what they had meant to him. They way they had opened his eyes to the world he had been missing, and to the one he had submerged himself in so deep there was no light anymore. “…I realized what it is that I was lacking. So, thank you, my dear brothers and…”

He pauses again, letting the silent set in his words to his brothers. It had been a long journey. And at first, he had felt so lost…like there was no way he could ever truly understand what was missing, or where to even beginning searching. But thanks to his brothers, and without even realizing it, he had been actually searching what it was missing. And he now understands. He understood better than anything else, better than even his own sin and his own mind and buddy, that the answer for what he needed laid right inside of the house of lamentation. Within himself, and one of the few ways he could start learning and reconnecting with who he was, was right around him.

With his family. With his big, stupid, loud, noisy family. The one that had watched him crumble and instead of mocking him had helped him get back up slowly. And now he was taking the first step after having been rebuilt slowly, the first step of the journey he had yet to complete. But that he wasn’t worried about, because he had his family. And to grasp and fully understand the thing he needed; the Avatar of Lust wouldn’t need to go anymore. And for him that was more than okay, because that meant he could stay close to those who had helped him trough it all. To those who would keep helping him. And to the six demons he only had one thing to say, and it the same thing he had to say to himself.

“I love you all”

Philutia: Self love

******

Hi, well, here we are, at the end. I am honestly surprised I managed to finish this in time, but hey, here it is! I really, really hope you all had enjoyed this fan fiction as much as I enjoyed writing it, and I guess I will see you all on my next fic obey me fic XD

Take care!

Previous chapter

Other works

[gumnut-logic]

Who do you save, John? (Bit 8)

Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 | Bit 4 | Bit 5a | Bit 5b | Bit 6 | Bit 7 | Bit 8

This one hurt my brain. Writing Jeff is a challenge. I’m just leaving this here and walking away calmly. I hope you enjoy it anyway :D Many thanks to @scribbles97​ and @godsliltippy​ for the help when I screamed lots.

Warnings: blood.

For @5hadow-alpha​​  cos they wanted Shopping and a Tracy brother. They got more than one, and I got more than I expected.

-o-o-o-

Eos let off a burst of frustration and blew out three LEDs on Thunderbird Five.

John would not be happy.

John could be as unhappy with her as he liked just so long as she could get in contact with her father.

There were men fleeing the rooms her father was hidden in, but none of them were a Tracy.

And she still had no contact.

Whoever had put the interference in place around the suit shop, knew what they were doing. She had disabled the cloak that hid the presence of the interference, but there was no remaining avenue to travel to any of the communication devices in those rooms.

She could ping off the IR tech, her father and his brother’s comms and vitals monitors, but none of the brothers were wearing them!

It was so frustrating. She would speak with Brains. She flung off several routines and threw a tiny part of herself into processing a new design for comms and vitals that stayed with the human body and didn’t get discarded at whim!

Frustration slipped into anger and fear joined the party.

Kayo offered random platitudes, but Eos wasn’t human. She wanted her father and only his presence could assuage her anxiety.

At least Kayo was on approach to the building.

“Eos!”

John’s voice shut down all her processes, her entire being redeploying immediately to focus on his signal. “John?” It came from his comms. A flick of digital switches and she had visual.

Thunderbird Five groaned with Eos’ relief, its digital superstructure flexing under AI emotions it was never designed to support.

“We need medical assistance. Virgil has a gunshot wound to the chest and is in difficulty.” Audio picked up the Commander’s voice in the background yelling Virgil’s name.

“Help is on the way.” Medical services were indeed outside the building. She pinged Penelope with that information.

The woman started running as she spoke into her comms.

“John, are you well?” Her voice sounded small despite amplification.

“I’m okay, Eos.”

Something in his voice revealed his lie, but Eos was unable to narrow down the frequency. “John?”

“I’m gathering up comms. The family will be back online shortly.”

“Thank you, John.”

A pause.

Another yell from Scott.

“Get those medical personnel in here. Chest decompression, blood replacement, cardiac stimulation and life support.”

“Yes, John.”

“Thank you, Eos.”

“You’re welcome.”

-o-o-o-

They lay Virgil down, flat on his back. Alan’s fingers were on his brother’s pulse when it faded.

“Cardiac arrest.” He set his shoulders to apply chest compressions. Pushing Virgil’s bloody shirt aside, Alan stretched his fingers to locate the optimum position. His palms made skin contact and Alan leaned forward only to cry out when his arm reminded him loudly that he was injured too.

“Breathe for him.” Scott nudged him aside, sleeves rolled up over arms almost twice the size of Alan’s. “I’ve got this.”

And then it was simple mechanics. He tipped Virgil’s head back and, in rhythm, breathed for his brother.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Alan knew exactly what he was doing and the fear was screaming at him. But Alan was a professional, this body was a rescuee who needed saving.

Numbers flew.

His father was on his knees beside them, but there was no time to acknowledge anyone.

Virgil, c’mon.

Scott hissed between his teeth. “Virgil, don’t do this.”

His big brother’s hands pressed down hard, beating a heart that was likely strained and confined by pneumothorax. They needed equipment and they needed it now.

“Where the hell are those paramedics?!” Scott’s voice was hoarse.

Kayo appeared at some point, Gordon by her side.

Alan, lightheaded by forced breathing that his brother was barely accepting, didn’t respond to either of them.

Virgil, please!

And suddenly he was being shoved aside. A bag replaced him; its hiss regular and cold. New hands and new voices surrounded Virgil. Scott was yelling.

Alan registered the tube they stuck in Virgil’s side and Scott’s cry as they finally got a heartbeat.

Actions and words began to blur as Alan’s own heart beat took over his hearing.

Then Virgil was moving, propelled up and away by a hover stretcher. Scott ran with it.

Alan remained sitting on the floor.

Blood all over his hands, his heart beating fast and hard enough to drown out almost everything.

“Alan?”

He blinked. His father’s grey eyes caught him from where the older man was still sprawled on the carpet.

Drying blood stained the grey of his suit all down his front.

His hands were darkening red.

Alan hitched in a breath and it almost strangled him. His adrenalin began to wane and with it a tsunami of emotion swelled and threatened.

He held it back.

And still his heart beat so fast.

So fast.

“Alan?”

Get up. He was an emergency responder. This was still an emergency. He was still in the danger zone.

Stumbling, he pushed himself to his feet.

It was a mistake.

The world dissolved into sparkles and dark spots.

He clutched a hand to his head. His heart just wouldn’t stop.

“Alan!”

Daddy?

Someone else called out his name. Gordon? John?

Scuffle. Running feet.

Someone swore.

The sparkles gathered into darkness and whisked him away.

-o-o-o-

Jeff was ever so proud of his sons. Ever so proud.

Scott and Alan worked in concert like a well-oiled machine, keeping Virgil alive.

Alive.

Please god.

His own hands itched to assist, but Scott’s eyes were fire and Alan’s determination a physical thing.

He could only watch two of his sons fight for the life of their brother.

Virgil was almost grey under the splattering of red, the silk of his deep green shirt only working to emphasize that colouring.

John appeared from the change rooms; shirts clutched in his hands. No doubt the comms they had all been missing. Eos was likely unhappy if he could predict the AI’s response to the situation.

John’s grim expression would seem to agree.

“Where the hell are those paramedics?” Scott’s expression was strain and pain. His shoulders and arms pressing down on Virgil’s chest in a horrible way.

Jeff ticked off forced heart beats in his head.

Gordon and Kayo ran into the room. Kayo immediately grabbed Timothy, securing his restraints with some of her own.

Her eyes flicked in the direction of Virgil, fear in their depths.

Finally, paramedics rushed in behind Gordon, the aquanaut stepping out of their way.

Alan was nudged aside as Scott gave a sharp status report between compressions.

A needle and tubing appeared and expert hands released the pressure in Virgil’s lung cavity.

There was silence as Scott ceased compressions, his fingers reaching for Virgil’s carotid.

A frozen moment.

Another.

“We have a pulse!”

The bag remained on Virgil’s face.

“We move him now.” Scott’s voice was sharp and despite the paramedics having their own chain of command, there was no denying the Commander of International Rescue.

Virgil was manhandled onto a stretcher and whisked away. Scott glanced at Jeff once, his son’s worry so desperate. A blink and he was following the hovergurney.

Another blink and his two eldest sons were gone.

The sudden silence in the room threatened to strangle. He had to get up. He had to follow his son.

Alan sat across from him, a frown on his face. So pale.

“Alan?”

Those blue eyes blinked and stared. Jeff’s heart lurched.

He reached for his cane.

So pale.

“Alan?”

Gordon and John looked over, frowning in unison.

Stubborn determination flickered in Alan’s eyes and he pushed himself to his feet.

All the blood drained from his face.

“Alan!”

Gordon and John were moving, but Jeff was closer and he threw himself at his youngest just as Alan crumpled.

Jeff barely caught him. The eighteen-year-old wasn’t a big man, but Jeff came in at an odd angle and his own strength was compromised. The former astronaut went down with his son, Alan’s weight as limp in his arms as Virgil’s had been minutes before.

The gasp that passed Jeff’s lips was more a sob.

“Alan? Son?”

“Eos, get those paramedics back in here! Alan’s collapsed.”

“Yes, father.”

Jeff lowered his youngest to the carpet and ran vitals.

Breathing laboured.

Heart rate fast.

Likely blood loss.

Shock.

“Dad. He is going to be okay.” John’s voice was ever calm.

Gordon was applying pressure to Alan’s arm.

More paramedics barrelled into the room.

Quick fingers. John’s sharp report.

And another son was whisked away.

Jeff found himself half sprawled on the carpet of a suit shop surrounded by blood stains.

“Dad?”

He looked up to find John kneeling in front of him. He belatedly realised John’s hands were on his arms.

“Dad? Are you okay?”

“I have to go with Allie.”

“Gordon has gone with him. He is going to be okay.” Turquoise pierced his heart.

“Virgil…” But the sentence wouldn’t finish.

John visibly swallowed. “Is in good hands.”

He needed his cane.

He needed his sons.

Lucy screamed at him in the back of his mind.

He had to look after his children.

Blood on the carpet.

He grabbed for his strength, found it failing, but he swore at it and reached for his cane anyway.

His fingers wrapped around the smooth wood, their tips brushing across the simple carving his second eldest had etched into the surface. A stylised Thunderbird, wings spread in defiance.

Virgil smiled at him in his mind’s eye.

Jeff Tracy grit his teeth, set the cane’s foot into the damaged carpet and pushed himself to his feet.

“Dad?”

John’s voice was so gentle.

Jeff straightened his shoulders and caught his son’s eyes.

“John.” He put it all in his son’s name. He needed to be there.

The fingers on his arms tightened just a little. One hand let go as John stepped back.

There was a desperate love in those turquoise eyes…and in his quiet reply.

“FAB.”

-o-o-o-

Next

[cheezritsu]

Haikyuu Couple Aesthetics (pt 2)

part one here!

Kageyama Tobio: couple workouts, linked pinkies, lingering touches, butterflies in your stomach even after years of knowing him, parting his sweaty bangs after a gruelling match, sitting in your lap during study sessions. The childhood friends couple; always attending his games, setting a separate ringtone for when he calls at 2 am from another country, his thumb caressing your cheek when he kisses you, walking home after practices with his face washed with sunset; tiny, barely there smiles meant for your eyes only; mundane tasks as dates, buying magazine covers with his face on them; knuckle kisses, massaging his tense muscles after long, grueling days; pressing your foreheads together, looking deep into his love filled eyes; always following your advice, wrapping his arms around your waist and breathing in your scent; recalling old memories with his grandfather, cooing over baby pictures, having each other as your phone background, being prideful for him, trophy husband jokes; standing up for him no matter what. Slow, unsure kisses, even after so many years; always saying “see you later” and never goodbye, soothing his worries with a hug, knowing what he means even when he’s quiet. You two are the star crossed lovers, never quite separated as long as you’re in love. 

Hinata Shoyo: 8 hour phone calls, tan lines, bruised arms, giving Natsu advice like she’s your sister; the sunshine couple; constant encouragement, sitting on the back of his bike and going down hills, Marvel movie marathons, talking so much you forget to eat, reading Shonen jump together, him teaching you volleyball, showing up to all his matches; the number 10 proudly across your chest; brushing away his frustrated tears with the back of your hand; video calls with 12 hours between you two, spontaneous dates, convenience store slushies, being shown off to his friends, pinky promises, cheek kisses, running through the streets with intertwined hands, laughing maniacally; making any day an adventure, getting meat buns at 2am, sitting in the stands at practices, learning Brazilian recipes, smiling contently as he tells yet another story about Brazil; holding his face so gently he might cry, hugging him like he’ll vanish under your fingertips; never whispering “I love you,” only screaming it so everyone can hear. Proud smiles, even in hard times. You two are Icarus and the sun, your fierce love the one thing that keeps the wax from melting under your wings. 

Azumane Asahi: braiding each others hair, linking pinkies, slightly mismatched appearances, long, ambling walks home while the sun sets; comforting whispers, spinning hugs, promise rings, the sweet couple; always having the right words, modeling his designs, long distance calls on Saturday nights, dried roses, brown sugar boba tea, framed couple photos, bubble baths, fingers tangled in each other’s hair, running errands as dates; sleeping in his tee shirts while he’s away, stealing glances at one another, shoulders always touching on train rides, still blushing whenever your hands brush, being his personal cheerleader, having a mailbox with both your names on it, at home haircuts, rainy day dates; softly kissing each other awake; candid photos, monthly anniversary gifts, a comforting touch always close at hand. You two are Orpheus and Eurydice, willing to plunge the depths of hell to stay together. 

Iwaizumi Hajime: late night FaceTimes, learning to skateboard, insulting one another as a love language, stuttering out “I love yous”, couple workouts, being in each other’s profile pictures, bullying each other at any given moment, double dates, matching denim jackets, couple outfit of the day posts, melting into his arms, airport reunions, stealing his food during dates, the laid back couple; stealing his hoodies, long walks filled with easy conversation, having a dog as a child, being dubbed “Iwaizumi’s cool partner,” wherever you go; late night convenience store runs, sunrise hikes, arm wrestling competitions to win arguments, protective arms around your waist as you sleep, unironically calling him “Iwa-Chan”; cheesy Disneyland California couple photos, staying up with him as he studies for exams, rubbing the tension out of his shoulders, listening to his old Seijoh stories, being loved by Makki, Mattsun and Oikawa, resting a comforting hand on his chest, taking pictures of him in the background at sports events, taking pride in everything each other does. Not so much saying it love you,’ but seeing it. You two are the moon and the ocean; tidally locked with one another, and never wanting it any other way. 

Ushijima Wakatoshi: taping his matches on tv, wearing his coats when he’s away, champagne flutes, fancy dinner parties, the classy couple; musky, dark cologne, tacky souvenirs from countries he’s visited, indoor plants everywhere, cooking breakfast together whenever possible, courtside seats at his games, peaceful silences, quiet vacations, fancy dinner dates, pearl necklaces, first class flights, monogrammed luggage, smiling at your shared last name, french manicures, laced hands, moonlit walks, promise rings, handwritten letters, traditional weddings, feather light kisses to your knuckles; listening to his voice to fall asleep, mindless touches, secret smiles, ironic heart emojis, learning each other’s love language, sitting in his lap while he watches matches, coming home together after long days apart, fluffy white robes, his and hers sinks, forehead kisses, patiences, evenings spent reminiscing with Shiratorizawa, never losing sight of what’s important: each other. Accepting him no matter what, squeezing his hand for reassurance, saying ‘goodbye’ just so you can say ‘hello’. You two are like wild ivy, growing and entangling in one other until you’ve become one. 

Tendou Satori: watching anime until the sun comes up, taping his bruised fingers, singing his impromptu songs, cheering loudly for him at games, exchanging memes for hours, the silly couple; walking home with swinging intertwined hands, comic shop dates, playful banter, calling him “miracle boy” with a seriousness that makes him blush; bullying Goshiki, amusement park dates, stuffed animal presents, incoherent love notes, keeping pictures of you in his wallet, making chocolates in the dead of night, singing loudly in the shower, tickle fights, sneaking into his dorm when you can’t sleep, coming to his defense whenever, wherever; spit shakes, inside jokes, teasing whispers, learning tiktok dances, anime hoodies, cooing over his baby pictures, protective glares, shoulder touches, identical laughter, falling deeper in love with every passing second. You two are a hurricane; a force to be reckoned with with no intentions of stopping. 

Bokuto Kotarou: Being Akaashi’s worst nightmare, screaming songs in the car together, throwing rocks at each others windows in the dark, laughing on the phone underneath blankets, kisses every time you see each other; the inseparable couple; always knowing when he needs a hug, playing with his hair, wearing his jersey to volleyball matches, spoiling him at any chance, staying in bed an extra five minutes, trying new restaurants every other day, getting lost in the city for hours, constant snapchats, good morning texts, surprise visits at work, piggy back rides, ice cream on summer days, friendship bracelets, comedy movies, Polaroid pictures, bear hugs, beach dates, sleeping with his head in the crook of your neck. Hands always touching, nose kisses, spikes dedicated to you, air kisses across crowded stadiums, posing for paparazzi, the entire world knowing your name because he can’t keep your name out of his mouth for ten seconds. You two are remnants of the same star, finding one another across space and time. 

Semi Eita: dyed hair, eyebrow piercings, walls lined with guitars, dive bars, muffled singing from the shower, sake shots, world tours, chain necklaces, wearing his merchandise, karaoke dates, fishnet stockings, luxury hotels,the sexy couple; being his muse, velvet sofas, singing duets in the kitchen while making breakfast, dazzling smiles, having a makeshift recording studio in your living room, papers littered with song lyrics, starving artist budgets, breakthroughs at 4am, meeting his old teammates at concerts, silly audio recordings of meaningless conversations, “babe, listen to this!” the intimacy of sharing headphones, pressing kisses to his calloused fingertips, having more amps than furniture, spending hours in comfortable silence untangling his chords, the rush of listening to his new songs, constantly being on your toes, kisses that make your heart stop, being so proud of him. Long days spent slaving over work, his soft voice smooth like honey. Agonizing practices, staying by his side no matter what. You two are Bonnie and Clyd; absolute ride or dies through thick and thin. 

Kozume Kenma: watching all his videos, popping by work to give him lunch, singing softly while doing laundry at his house, making out in his gaming chair, soft, the intuitive couple; teasing fingers up your thigh, expensive gifts, housewife jokes, blanket burritos, at home dates, Speedrunning videos games, botched apple pies, having delivery on speed dial, curling his hair behind his ear before kisses, cat cafes, Gucci sunglasses, jamming to video game soundtracks, DND game nights, being in the background of his live streams, owning cats like children, bingeing on convenience store snacks, horror movie marathons, making fun of Kuroo, carding your hands through his growing hair, quick, stolen kisses, feeling completely at home with one another; watching cartoons till one am, matching stickers on your Nintendo switches, animal crossing weddings, sharing scarves, waking up curled into each other with the afternoon sun through your blinds, genuine and ugly laughter; smiles so soft you think you’re imaging them, listening to him pour his heart out about a game that broke him; ever laughing at him, slowly slipping to sleep while he plays video games, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. You two are video game protagonists, falling in love like the universe intended you to. 

Suna Rintaro: Black sports cars, luxury apartments, Adidas track pants, fresh Nike sneakers, black and white everything; the aesthetic couple; matching outfits, silver rings, flashing lights, hazy bars, rolled blunts, hip hop beats rattling through your car speakers, late night texts, slow, languid kisses; rainy days, bedroom eyes, button down shirts, chipped nail polish, saying “bruh,” instead of “babe,” petty insults, wandering hands, dipping out of family reunions, noise complaints, throwing snacks into each other’s mouths, having your orders known at a restaurant, red solo cups, ash trays, house parties, spinning a record and listening to it for hours, laying on the floor with nothing to do; silk sheets, midnight drives, stupid jokes, lazy smiles, fist bumps, the inherent romanticism of not being romantic; bathroom selfies, upsetting the twins, always being one the same page, wilted flowers, tracing the outline of his lips before diving in for a kiss, trusting one another completely. You two are silver screen lovers, having the romance all teenagers would die to have. 

[number-one-micoverse-fan]

Everybody Knows That Dom Has Depression Except For Dom

It’s what it says on the tin, fellas.

----------

“And I have a couple of pre-made meals for you too!” Miranda heaves a giant refrigerated bag onto the table, beaming at Dom as she rips open the velcro and starts pulling out stacks of tupperware containers.

“Pre-made…?” Dom ventures, watching with growing wonderment as the stack of containers continues to grow. That bag must be bigger on the inside.

“Yeah, meals that are already cooked up and ready to go,” Miranda explains, finally setting the bag aside and walking around to open the fridge. There’s plenty of room inside for the castle of tupperware, “So you can just pull one out, stick it in the microwave, and you’re all set! It’ll be great for those days when you’re too tired or worked too late to make something.”

Dom blinks, considers, makes a soft noise of agreement. He absently hands containers to Miranda as she fills his refrigerator. He’s trying to figure out why someone would spend this much time on him. The only conclusion he manages to come to is that he definitely needs to find a way to pay Miranda back for her generosity.

He doesn’t deserve this kind of attention.

*******

“I—I’m so sorry about this!” Dom is scurrying around the house in the pre-dawn gloom, lit only by the sodium yellow burn of the streetlights through the window and the dim light over the kitchen sink. He’s flustered and tired, his tie undone around his neck, his shirt half tucked in, and his hair a mess.

“It’s fine,” Jake is hovering in the doorway to Dom’s kitchen, his hands wrapped around a thermos of of coffee. His expression is sympathetic, if a little strained, “Seriously, it’s not a big deal.”

“I know, I know,” Dom says in a stag whisper, struggling to do up his tie and tuck in his shirt at the same time, harried and fretting and continuously glancing towards the stairs to the second floor of the house, “B-but it’s just—it’s so early and—“

“I was already up anyway.”

“—you have Milo—“

“Dan’s still at the house for him.”

“—this meeting was so last minute—“

“Employers can be jerks.”

“—but Cody—“

“Dom.”

“—I didn’t want him to wake up alone—“

“Dom!” Jake snatches at Dominic’s shoulder, stopping the other man in his tracks. Dom’s eyes are wide and worried, heavy with exhaustion and stress. Jake gives his best comforting smile, changing his grip to a gentle pat,

“It’s okay. Honestly. I’m happy to help. You’re a—a friend. And you’d do the same for Milo, yeah?”

Dom swallows, takes a deep breath and smooths the front of his shirt down, “Yeah. Of course. Thanks Jake.”

“Anytime.”

*********

Cody flops onto the couch next to his dad and offers him a bowl of popcorn.

Dom takes it hesitantly, his brow furrowed, “I thought you were going to spend time with Milo…”

“He needs to do homework,” Cody says, settling into his spot. The light from the television reflects off his glasses, “And I wanna hang out with my cool dad!” He beams up at his dad, honest happiness on his face, “What’re we watchin’?”

“O-oh, um…” The hollowed out cavern in Dom’s chest is suddenly flooding with warmth and it makes a wobbly smile spread slowly across his face, “I…I dunno, actually, I just…had the TV on. Was there something you wanted to watch?”

“Mmmm, not really. Maybe we should channel surf until we find something good!”

“Okay…”

Dom flips through some channels rather absently, asking Cody about his day, about homework, about the MiCo channel. Cody happily rambles at him about everything and Dom listens, questions, smiles until his smile can’t get any bigger. He’s not really paying attention to the television, watching Cody talk and gesture animatedly about his latest attempt at catching proof of ghosts. The teen is lit up, literally and figuratively, glowing in the blue-white of the screen, smile flashing in the shadows, hands directing his words, a conductor of his own story.

“—so the audio should be finished by—ooh! Wait go back! Go back!”

The remote almost falls out of Dom’s hands as he fumbles to change the channel again. The sports cast flickers to something softer; a crowd of people milling about or standing in lines in a large indoor area. There are tables and booths set up in the background, but the foreground is dominated by a table at which sit a middle-aged woman and an older man in a tweed jacket. On the table between them is an intricately designed lamp with a garish shade made of bright glass and brass swirls. The man in the tweed jacket is indicating areas of the lamp with a pen and talking about the authenticity of the item in a low rumble of a voice.

“The…Antique Roadshow?” Dom questions, glancing at Cody.

“Yeah! It’s kind of cool to see what historical stuff shows up and to learn the history of it,” Cody says, “Also, sometimes, me and Milo would play this game where we would guess if something is haunted or not and then try and decide what kinda ghost is doing the haunting. He gets bored of it real quick though.”

“Hm…” Dom looks back at the—frankly hideous—lamp on the screen, “Well, uh, I don’t know a lot about ghosts but…if there was a ghost haunting that thing, it would probably be someone really annoying with no taste.”

Cody laughs, “I think I would feel bad for anyone who was stuck haunting that! It’s ugly!”

Dom finds himself chuckling along with him, “A, uh, I think the word is…ostentatious?”

They both laugh.

They’re still laughing an hour or so later, when the popcorn bowls are empty and it’s gone dark outside. Cody has tucked himself against Dom’s side, Dom’s arm around his shoulders, holding him close.

The cold, bitter hole that had been chewing him up on the inside is long gone. It’s nothing but tenderness and warmth and little rays of sunshine. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Dom knows it will come back. But it’s gone, for now. And he’s warm.

He’s happy.

*********

“Ah! Here! Lemme help with that!” A burly arm sweeps out of nowhere and scoops some of grocery bags from Dom’s struggling grip. Most of the grocery bags, really.

“Thanks…” Dom breathes, sending an uneven smile up at Dan, “Sorry about the trouble…”

“Not trouble at all!” Dan’s own smile is wide and bright and honest, his stride confident and comfortable as he follows Dom to the front door, “I was just coming home and you looked like you needed some help. And it never hurts to help.”

Dom only hums in response, holding open the door to let Dan sidle past and set the groceries down in the kitchen. The house is quiet—Cody’s out, probably getting into trouble with Milo—and Dom feels selfish for enjoying the peace of it. He’s exhausted, drained, his entire body feels heavy and his thoughts are muddy. He sinks into a chair at the kitchen table and rubs his eyes. He still has to put away the groceries and make some dinner and he should probably shower and maybe he should fold those clean clothes he hasn’t touched in a week and when’s the last time he vacuumed and—

“Long day?” Dan’s voice cuts through the deluge of thoughts threatening to drown him. Dom sighs into his hands, can only nod in response because even talking feels like it would take too much energy, “Sorry you had a rough day, buddy. But, hey, lookit that! You still went and bought groceries and you’re home now! So you can relax, just a for a bit. Take a breather, Dom, you look like you need it.”

His fingers tangle in his hair as Dom raises his head to explain that while he appreciates Dan’s advice, he really doesn’t have time to sit about and daydream. But he finds himself struck a bit speechless because Dan has put all the groceries away while Dom’s just been sitting on his ass feeling sorry for himself. It doesn’t shock him that Dan knows where everything goes, just that Dan would even take the time to do it. Dom could have done it, he’d just needed a minute.

Dan’s still smiling as he folds up the paper bags and stows them in the pantry, “Oh yeah, almost forgot—would you and Cody like to join us for dinner tonight?” He straightens up, hands on his hips, a life preserver to a man floundering in a sea of responsibilities and fears, “I’m making lasagna and I always make way too much of it. And it’s been a while since we’ve had dinner together.”

The relief that makes the burdens of the day slough off his shoulders makes Dom feel like he could float away. It buzzes in his chest, louder than the nasty little voice that says he’s lazy or that he’s taking advantage of Dan’s good nature.

“Thanks, I…I’d like that…”

********

Miranda hands him a small stack of thick, hardcover books. They’re a little banged up and well loved, the spines soft and their corner dented, but they’re well cared for all the same. Dom cycles through them—there’s four of them and all of them are about woodworking of various degrees. He glances up at her, half from confusion and half from wondering if she’s trying to say something.

She’s twirling a strand of her hair around her finger, something he recognizes as a bit of a nervous habit, a twinge of uncertainty, “A coworker had a bunch of old books they were getting rid of. Brought in a couple of milk crates worth of them. I know you like working with your hands and—and building stuff, that kind of thing. So I thought I’d…snag them for you.” Her face is a delicate shade of pink and she keeps glancing at him from under her lashes.

Dom looks from her to the books. He opens the top book to a random page, skims a description of re-scaling an existing design to make a miniature version of it. He might have gotten caught up in it completely if he hadn’t been hyper away of Miranda standing in front of him.

He lets the book fall closed and smiles at her. That pleasantly warm feeling is curling in his chest again, pooling wonderfully in his stomach until his cheeks flush,

“These are—they’re awesome. Wonderful, Mira. I love them. Thank you.”

Miranda’s smiles explodes and she throws her arms around him. Her lips touch the corner of his mouth and Dom feels soda bubbles burst inside him like fireworks.

*********

Something a little like frustrated panic clutches tightly at Dom’s throat when he hears a knock on the front door.

It still feels like its on the verge of choking him when he opens the door and finds Milo standing there with a folder clutched to his chest.

“Hi, um, I know Cody’s sick but I brought his homework from school so if he feels kinda better sometime he won’t get behind in class.” Milo is unusually subdued, no doubt missing his usual partner in crime and as equally worried about Cody as Dom is.

“Thank you, Milo, that’s very kind of you.” Dom runs a hand through his hair, realizes it’s shaking and quickly takes the offered folder from Milo before the teenager can notice.

Milo rocks back on his heels, glances from Dom to the house behind him and then back to Dom, “Um. Dom—um—Mister Bridges—uh, I know—um. That is, uh…” He fidgets, fumbles, wrinkling his nose as he searches for the right words and Dom is more than prepared to tell him that no, he cannot see Cody, Jake would hang him for it if he did, when Milo blurts out,

“Do you need help with anything?”

“You ca—I…I’m sorry, what?”

Milo’s ears are red, “I, uh, d-do you need any help? With anything?” He’s tugging absently on his hoodie strings, self conscious and still rocking back and forth on his heels, “You’re probably—well I know—um. Shoot. Y-you’re taking care of Cody so I wanted…to ask…if there’s was anything…you needed help with…”

Dom hesitates, wants to tell Milo to just go home because he’s a teenager and he’s been in school all day and he deserves to enjoy his youth. But Milo’s expression is so earnest and he certainly looks like he’s been worrying and fretting all day. Dom wants to think that maybe Jake or Dan put him up to this but Milo’s still got his school bag slung over his shoulder which means he hasn’t even been home himself yet. Dom can’t fight the soft and gentle smile that appears on his face,

“Go ask your dads if they’re okay with it first. Then maybe you can help me tackle these dishes, okay?”

Milo brightens instantly, “Okay!” And he scurries off to burst into the house next door.

To be honest, Dom doesn’t expect him to come back. But he does, full of energy and ready to go. He’s a bit infectious and soon Dom finds himself caught up in the whirlwind that is Milo Junior. Dom spends his time flitting up and down the stairs between Cody’s room and the kitchen and by the time he’s gotten some food in his son and coaxed him to go back to sleep, Milo has washed and put away all the dirty dishes in the sink.

“Shhh! Don’t tell Jake I know how to load a dishwasher!” Milo hisses in a loud whisper as he shoves Dom’s dishwasher closed with a clunk, “I’ve been doing it bad on purpose so he stopped asking me!”

Dom laughs. It feels bright and hot and brilliant inside him, spilling liquid honey up his throat,

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

********

Miranda’s humming something, her fingers carding lazily through Dom’s hair. Her other hand is draped over his chest, their fingers woven together, puzzle pieces that click together perfectly. Dom’s free hand is resting at the base of his throat, his thumb idly rubbing against the edge of the top button on his shirt. He has his head on her lap, his eyes heavy and lidded and unfocused. In this moment, he simply is. He is safe and comfortable and the warm gentleness of the whole thing has him floating on a delicate cloud of candy floss and downy feathers, lethargically sinking into a hot bath of love, attention, and affection.

More out of habit than anything else, Dom glances at the clock on the television stand. It takes his tired brain a moment to process the time, but once it does, he jolts into alertness,

“Dinner! We—we gotta get ready if we’re gonna make it!”

He goes to get up, already dreading the notion of being out in public where people can see him and judge him and make their assumptions, where he has to communicate with those who don’t understand him, where out there will never be as safe as in here. It makes his stomach clench and his appetite sink rapidly into a tar pit of nausea.

“Wait.”

Miranda presses a hand to his shoulder, steers him to lay back down in her lap. Dom holds her wrist, brow furrowed,

“Mira, our dinner…”

“Let’s just…stay in.” She says in a low voice, leaning over him. Her golden hair frames her face in the lamplight, curtaining them both off from the rest of the world, “We can order some pizza or something, I don’t mind. I’d like it to just…be you and me.” She leans closer and the heat rises in Dom’s face, “Just the two of us,” She’s a breath away and Dom can smell peppermint and lilacs and just a hint of that clean, slightly chemical scent that follows a doctor everywhere,

“Together.”

If they kiss, no one would be able to see it past the golden cascades of Miranda’s hair.

Her hand stays in Dom’s and he forgets about how relieved he is that they’re staying home because he’s too busy falling in love with her all over again.

********

Cody sets a glass of water down in front of Dom, smiles when Dom looks up at him with a question on his face.

“I was getting one for myself so I got one for you too,” Cody says with a shrug, “You looked thirsty!”

It’s not until Dom takes a drink that he realizes how parched he is.

It also strikes him that he hasn’t gotten up from the table in several hours. His joints pop and groan in protest when he stands up.

The numbers and words on the bills in front of him were blurring into obscurity anyway. He’s going to check on what Cody’s up to instead.

The bills are long forgotten as he spends the rest of the day watching his son play video games, simply enjoying the enthusiastic company.

********

Dom pushes his safety glasses to the top of his head and gives up starring at the miter saw with a heavy sigh. He’s not going to be getting anything done today.

He wanders to the front of his garage and sinks down onto the pile of lumber by the open door facing the street, peeling his work gloves off his hands and dropping them onto the wood beside him. He feels heavy, like something’s pushing down on him, crushing him slowly into the dirt. All the plans he’d made for the day feel pointless and empty.

He feels pointless and empty.

And stupid.

He’s staring an infinite black hole into the pavement between his peeling sneakers when someone’s approaching footsteps make him raise his head. It feels like lifting a thousand ton weight.

Jake is standing a few feet away, hands in the pockets of his slim jeans, his button up open to show a faded band t-shirt underneath. His expression is carefully blank but he’s chewing on his bottom lip in a manner that suggests there’s a thousand thoughts going through his head.

“Hi,” Says Dom and his voice sounds flat and lifeless and it makes his throat close up.

“Hey,” Jake nods, shifts his weight awkwardly, “Mind if I, uh, take a seat?”

Dom pats the lumber next to him and Jake eases down, glancing at the wood as if checking for splinters. His hands leave his pockets and his fingers get tangled in each other, twisting in and out and over as he fidgets. Dom can see the movement out of the corner of his eye but it’s much easier to keep staring at the sun bleached pavement.

“Thought I would have heard your power tools going by now.” Jake says in a somewhat forced conversational manner. Dom shrugs, makes a noncommittal noise. Jake sighs, takes a deep breath, lets it out again, finally says in a stern voice,

“Dom. You have depression.”

That startles him out of his stupor enough to turn and look at Jake, “What? What, no. I don’t.”

Jake frowns, not in disappointment, in something like solidarity and determination, “Yes, you do.”

“No, I—“

“Dominic, I literally have depression. I know what I’m talking about.” When Dom opens his mouth to protest further, Jake cuts him off,

“You feel tired almost all the time, even when you’ve gotten enough sleep. Sometimes you don’t sleep at all and sometimes that’s all you do. You either eat too much or you don’t eat at all or you eat just enough to keep going, even when you feel nauseous at the idea of food. You get frustrated with yourself because you can’t do what you want, you feel like you never have enough energy, and you blame everything on yourself.” Jake’s talking faster now, words spilling out, a floodgate of awful truths and buried thoughts cascading out in an awful tidal wave that’s black as pitch, “You feel like everything is your fault and nothing will ever be okay ever again and you’re going to be stuck in this hellish tar pit for the rest of your life! Because there isn’t anything better! There’s nothing outside the tar pit and you’d rather let yourself sink to the bottom and drown there than try to struggle anymore because you’re tried and you’re hurt and no one can ever understand how hard it is to live like this! And even though you hate yourself for giving up you just can’t do it anymore!”

The words break off into a ringing silence.

Jake is trembling slightly, shivering in the summer heat, because it feels so damn cold all of a sudden. His eyes are bright and hard but there are tears clinging to the corners and his jaw in clenched and his gaze pins Dom to the spot with accusation and something like desperation. And maybe not a hint of fear. Dom wants to look away, to shake his head, to tell Jake he’s got it wrong. But, god, he can’t.

Not when Jake’s dropped his guard like this.

To his eternal shame, Dom’s eyes get hot and his lower lip trembles. He drops his face into his hands with a muffled curse, trying to push it all back down, trying to bury it all back where it belongs deep inside him where it can’t bother anyone else.

“Dom, please…” Jake’s hand is on his shoulder, squeezing, grounding, reassuring, “I’ve…I didn’t want to say anything, I really didn’t because—I know it’s such a hard thing—personal. And I wouldn’t have said—I would have left this alone if I thought you were…” He trails off, steels himself, takes a shaky breath,

“Cody came to talk to me.”

Dom looks up at him, can’t decide if he’s horrified or in despair or hurt. Jake looks apologetic, his expression crinkling up and his hands shaking, holding himself steady despite the lingering threads of fear tugging at him to run from the situation.

“Cody?” Dom croaks, hates that he sounds so damaged, hates that it’s another thing to prove Jake right, “Is he—“

“Cody’s fine, this was a while ago.” Jake’s gaze darts away, comes back, drops to his knees, looks up at Dom again, “I just…wasn’t sure how to approach you about it.” A weird, slightly manic and cynical chuckle rattles out of his lungs, “I guess now’s a good a time as any.” Seriousness falls back into place, a door clicking shut but the key still in the lock,

“He approached me because…because he knows you’re hurting. Dom, he came up to me and he was trying hard not to cry and he told me “I think my dad’s sick and he won’t get help”.”

Dom thinks his heart shatters into a million pieces when he hears those words. His shaking hands fist into the front of his paint-stained shirt and he makes a choked off noise that desperately wants to be a sob, but Dom refuses to let it be.

Jake expression is desperate, begging, pleading for Dom to understand, “He knows something’s wrong and he wants to know how to help you. I know this probably isn’t something you want to hear, that it’s—it’s such an impossible thing to try and process but, Dom, he’s just a kid and he knows that you’re not doing okay.”

And Dominic Bridges finally breaks.

Right there, on a pile of lumber in his garage, talking to his neighbor, he puts his face in his hands and he cries.

Because he knows Jake is right.

And it kills him.

********

“It’s okay, I’ll be right out here for you,” Miranda says quietly, squeezing Dominic’s hand in her own, “I’m really proud of you for doing this.”

Dom is shaking in his seat, his leg bouncing insistently, cold sweat sticking to the back of his shirt. His mouth is dry and every time he swallows that just seems to make it worse. He feels like his voice is stuck somewhere in the vicinity of his shoes and he wants so badly to trample it as he runs out the building.

But there’s a fee for canceling appointments after 24 hours and Miranda has taken the time to come with him and she’d be so disappointed and—

—and Dom actually wants to try.

So when the therapist steps into the waiting room and calls his name, he takes a deep breath and stands up. His legs are jelly and he thinks he might pass out and some part of him is screaming that this is a waste of his time and money and he shouldn’t be here. But when he glances over his shoulder at Miranda before he walks through the door, she gives him a huge smile and makes a little heart with her hands.

And Dom thinks that maybe, just this one time, he can try and do something for himself for a change.

[ollyisonit]

Here’s a little peek behind the scenes of what Follow My Voice looks like with the lights on! Yes, the ghost that helps you looks like a giant tic-tac, don’t worry about it ;). If you want to hear more about the challenges of creating a game that was entirely sound-based, check out my post on the ludum dare website or keep reading under the cut: https://ldjam.com/events/ludum-dare/48/follow-my-voice/holy-smokes-thanks-yall-or-on-designing-a-game-with-no-audio

Wow!!!!! After an absolutely hectic 48 hours of development and a super fun month of playing other people’s amazing games, it looks like Follow My Voice ended up finishing in 1st for Audio and 5th for innovation! SWEET CRIMSON THAT’S INCREDIBLE!!!!!! Making an entirely audio-based game with no visuals was definitely an interesting challenge, and I had loads of fun trying to figure out how to make the game actually playable without feeling insanely difficult or unfair.

By far the biggest challenge in this game was figuring out how to let players orient themselves in 3D space without being able to see. Normally if you’re walking around with your eyes closed, you can feel around in the dark with your hands to find obstacles or tilt your head to hear sounds coming from different directions. However, if you’re blind in a video game, you don’t have access to all the extra senses you would have in real life (like balance or proprioception) so navigating in a game without visuals is significantly more difficult.

In order to work with this fundamental lack of information, I made few design decisions that restricted the way level design and player movement worked:

1: The Level is Completely Flat

One thing I noticed very quickly is that when you’re wearing headphones, it’s almost impossible to tell if a sound is coming from above or below you. In real life, if you wanted to figure that out you could tilt your head from side to side, but without using a VR headset or some extremely wacky controls that’s not possible to simulate. I made the level flat to take away that ambiguity.

2: The Player Can only Look Left/Right

Have you ever been playing a dark first-person game (not an edgy game, just a game where there’s not a lot of light) and gotten stuck because it was too dark for you to realize that you had been staring at the floor the whole time? Take that problem and multiply it by a thousand and you get Follow My Voice. This is another situation where in real life you could use your other senses (in this case balance) to figure out whether you were standing upright, but you can’t bring that sense into a game (especially an entirely audio-based game) without some extremely wonky controls. Once again I solved this problem by just getting rid of it; if the player can only look left and right, then they can’t get stuck looking at the floor.

3: Beacons! Beacons! Beacons!

Giving the player a way to figure out what direction they’re facing is probably the most important problem to solve in a game like this. If the player doesn’t know which way they’re facing, they can’t get their bearings and the level will devolve into a nightmare of running in circles and crashing into walls (or at least, more of a nightmare of running into circles and crashing into walls than it is right now). My solution for this was making sure to always have at least one sound playing at a stationary location at all times. The ghost’s constant whispering doesn’t just serve as a goal for you to move towards; it also serves as a beacon to remind you which way is forward.

4: EVERYTHING MUST MAKE A SOUND

Okay this one seems kind of obvious, but if sound is the only information you’re giving to your players then you better make sure that absolutely EVERYTHING in the level provides auditory feedback in some way. Here’s a quick list of some of the most interesting sounds I added to help players navigate:

There are three different surfaces that players can walk on in each level (water, rocks, and crunchy), and each one makes a different footstep sound. Placing these different surfaces strategically gives players more landmarks (oh ok I crossed water again, I must be going backwards) and helps separate out the different areas of the level

When you’re walking into a wall, you’ll hear a grinding sound coming from the direction the wall is in. This both lets you know that a wall is there (otherwise it would just seem like the player stopped walking for no reason) and also helps you keep track of where the wall is relative to you so you can more easily follow it or turn away

I don’t want to get too deep into how I calculated footsteps in this game, but basically I did everything I could to make sure that the player had what felt like a consistent stride length so that you could use footsteps to gauge distance with decent accuracy

I don’t want to post the full level layout here cause that would spoil the fun of bumbling around in the dark, but if you’re interested in checking this game out grab a pair of headphones and prepare to travel deeper and deeper (roll credits) into the darkness!

Also I just want to leave a shout-out here to all of the people who took the time to leave comments on this game, I do want to try developing this into a full title someday (Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram if you want to keep tabs) and your feedback has been super helpful (especially the stuff about the rocks)!

Thanks again and happy developing!!!!!!!!!!

[timetraveller29]

At Last

A Doctor Who fanfiction for #WhouffleWeek2020

Day 4 - Coat, outerwear / Food

Featuring the Thirteenth Doctor and Clara

The Doctor was working on a problem that had plagued her for not just days but weeks now. She danced around the console, from tweaking measurements one side to dials on the other, glanced at the displays, grimaced, then changed something yet again. It was proving difficult at the very least. She stopped and exhaled.

Maybe she should stop bothering about it.

But she couldn't help it.

It was so hard to be alone! And she adored her new TARDIS team, sure, but they didn’t know her. They didn't understand the darkness of her past, and if they knew, they'd probably leave her... just like so many companions had left her. And then there were others she had left behind...

The Doctor missed all of her friends with a burning constancy. Bill Potts, Missy, even Nardole! And she knew it was foolish to hope to find any of them, but there was a slight possibility that there was one person she could meet.

On second thought? Maybe it did make sense to give up.

She turned around slowly, boredly, expecting to see that same result she’d grown used to... null. Nothing. Zero. A blank space, and then she’d have to start all over again with a new plan...

Wait!

A wild, crazy grin grew on her entire face, a grin that popped at the eyes and wrinkled her nose.

“Yes,” she whispered. Then, louder and louder: “Yes, yesss, YESSS!”

And she prepared the TARDIS, pressing a number of buttons, turning dials, entering coordinates, until she finally gripped the lever in her hand. At last, long last! She felt the power course through her veins as she held off for a mere second, relishing what she was about to do. And down went the lever with a satisfying, resounding thrum from the engines...

She was off.

“So! Where to, next?” Ashildr said, in a distant and second-hand set of dimensions.

The room was white and blaring. They hadn’t been able to change the desktop theme yet. The manual hadn’t been particularly helpful, and it made Clara understand why most of the time the Doctor preferred to steer through trial and error...

“I don’t know,” she said to her, standing up and staring at the vision screens. One of them showed a rolling peach coloured ocean at a pearly white coast, one of the most gorgeous planets they’d visited in their travels. They didn’t get into nearly as much trouble as the Doctor would, though. That was heartening, what with her delicate... health... She placed a hand on her wrist, subconsciously looking for a pulse again. It had become a bad habit. She noticed, and scratched her ear instead. “Maybe we’ll just... Stay here for a while... We could just have a stroll, look at the view, and have a swim in the eveneing! Who knows what we'll find? And we could always leave the next adventure till tomorrow.”

Ashildr was unconcerned. “Sure, whatever you want.” She sat down on a chair and propped her feet on a footrest, both silver as the floor designs, with a journal on her lap.

Clara rolled her eyes. Her companion could be really unenthusiastic sometimes. Well, what she thought of as her companion.

“Right,” she said, “I’ll be out in reception if you need me... I’m gonna finish up some of that banana icecream from the pantry...”

“You know that eating is probably not recommended in your case, right?”

“It helps me think, okay? And so what if I don’t have a metabolism anymore, I still have senses!”

“Okay,” she said, holding up her hands in a concilliatory fashion, knowing it was a touchy subject. “Okay, go ahead.” And she went back to writing.

Clara glanced at the screen again. “What -?” She flipped her head around at Ashildr, then back again. “Do you –”

“I see it.”

“Should I -?”

“Go! Find out.”

She put her journal aside and stood to observe the second screen, the one that had changed. Her companion dashed inside to change into her waitress uniform. Well, what she thought of as her companion.

Meanwhile, the figure on the screen moved to the counter and sat down.

“Hey!” Clara said to her with a smile, entering the main hall of the diner at last.

It was like water bursting out of the ground in a barren desert. The Doctor looked at her, and everything came alive, fervently and insistently: the Ice Warrior in the submarine, the mummy on the Orient Express, the portrait of her in Time Lord Hell where it hung for billions of years, and the dazzling euphoria of bringing her back on Gallifrey... It filled her heart, and there was only one thing to be said...

“Doctor,” Clara said nodding at her confidently, interrupting her train of thought.

She raised her eyebrows, impressed.

“You recognised me! Clara Oswald, ever full of surprises.”

Clara grinned. “As are you!” she countered. “Where did you find your memories? Guess that Neural Block didn’t work on you for too long, eh?”

“Nah,” she said, broadening her shoulders. “It’ll take more than that to get you out of my head, Clara Oswald! Although I did have a lot of help... Tell me," she said, remembering her point, "how are you? I'm so sorry I couldn't help you more last time, that I –"

"Don't! Don't apologise," Clara shook her head, her ponytail bouncing with it. She looked serious. "You were so amazing, Doctor. This? Me being here, talking? That's all you! So don't ruin the effect by being humble. It doesn't suit you."

The Doctor closed her mouth. Oh, yeah. That's who she had been, after all: proud and entitled. And Clara was the same. Neither her past self nor Clara had ever dealt well with raw emotion. Good reminder; something she would have to work on this time around.

"No matter," she said. "So, go on," she added, raising her tempo to something more cheerful, "Clara, the Time Traveller! Have you travelled much? I see you've picked a scenic spot to park yourself. The vagabond life treatin’ you well?”

“I’ve had some okay adventures,” she shrugged. “Nothing too crazy, thanks to your esteemed absence.”

“Hah! Well, I’m glad you’re taking care...”

“And nice look, by the way!”

“Thank you! I was wondering if it suited me... Brand new face and all!”

“I love your new coat! Very Doctor-y.”

“Oh yeah? I thought you might approveñ”

“It’s gorgeous... On the other hand, the colours? Yellow suspenders? I can see there that you’ve started to call back the... ahem!... fez-like... fashion choices...” Clara read the growing offense on the Doctor's face and popped herself underneath the counter to hide –

“What's wrong with yellow? Plus! Fezzes! Are cool!”

She jumped out of her seat and began to lean across to get a glimpse of Clara and where she was hiding.

“No they’re not!” she teased. “Fezzes have never been cool, and neither are bowties! Come on, it's a new face isn't it, grow some new taste!”

“How dare you! You know I never criticised you for the way you –”

“Oh? Oh yeah?” She popped up from the opposite end of the long table, holding some plastic jars in her arms. “She’s got a face so wide she needs three mirrors!” she said trying to do a deep, gruff voice. The Doctor scrambled over the counter and raced to catch her, but Clara slipped open a door and locked her on the staff-only side. “Oh! Stay there,” she giggled, “stay there, or I’ll call in security!”

“Clara, let me out! – and I only said that because it’s true! What did you need three mirrors for?!”

“It helps to make sure my makeup is even! You know, the face colouring you never understood!”

“Well, I do now!” she lunged her arms forward to get at the latch and escape from her trap behind the counter but Clara slapped her away and raised up her hand, balancing jars dangerously with the other.

“Peace,” she called. “Peace offering! Doctor! Look, I’ve got banana icecream!”

The Doctor dropped her arms at that and rolled her eyes at Clara, who was comically supporting the jars between one arm and knee. Then she chuckled and gave her a warm smile, one that reminded Clara of the way the Doctor would look at her in a earlier, simpler times... “All right,” she said, leaning her elbows on the counter and raising her eyebrows. “Okay, we'll let it rest. Just for the banana icecream... Bananas are good.”

“That,” Clara said, settling herself on a stool and setting the ice cream between them, “That, we can agree on...”

The Doctor reached into a drawer to produce some spoons, her heart swelling. It was a strange thing, but it was so refreshing to be around Clara again, to be surprised, to be challenged, even criticised... to be known.

When the universe turns you upside down, there's nothing that can bring you back on your head like an old friend.

... All the while, Ashildr watched them and gave a heavy sigh.

She disabled the audio and stepped away.

It wouldn’t last, she knew. Even with her memories back, the Doctor would have to leave Clara once and for all. The girl was on the final thread of her life, maybe streached out a bit longer, but final nonetheless. There would have to be a goodbye, a difficult one, and simple comfort food wasn’t going to help either of them with that...

Still. At least it happened.

She turned a page of her journal, thinking.

Perhaps, in some cases, it’s better to focus on the good times you’ve had with someone, even the fleeting ones, instead of the pain they leave behind. Perhaps temporary happiness does beat permanent indifference.

Well... for mortals, at any rate.

She glanced up from her chair from time to time as they conversed, gesturing animatedly at each other, as the day wore on. Clara seemed to have forgotten about her plan to go swimming. She was so happy just talking to the Doctor, did she dare interrupt?

No. She smiled. This was what Clara had been waiting for. She'd let her have one day to herself, one day pretending to be alive and with the Doctor, at last.

[eat-the-richard]

Sonic’s 30th: What it could be and what it won’t be

Well folks, it's about that time again. Our beloved Sonic thee Hedgehog is turning the big three-oh this year.

I say that time “again” because, y’know, it seems like we just went through this. The last mainline Sonic releases, Sonic Mania and Sonic Forces, were both revealed as part of Sonic’s 25th anniversary. In a sense, that’s all us fans really have to look forward to anymore. Waiting for about five-or-so rotations around the sun to pass until SEGA can slap that big number next to Sonic’s mug to usher out as much celebratory marketing material as they can, all for the chance to get a smidgen of new video games to get our hands on.

This anniversary feels... different, though. Last anniversary SEGA had an absolute winner on their hands in Sonic Mania. There was no way the team behind that one could possibly mess up. And even if Sonic Forces turned out like... that, it at least made sense from SEGA’s perspective to greenlight a game like it during that time. But the five years since those games were announced have done little to assuage my worries about what exactly is planned for this year’s big game.

You see, Sonic has kind of vanished. He’s lost. M.I.A.. Which feels strange. Even during the supposed “dark age” of Sonic, he never really went anywhere. New games were still being produced like clockwork for a whole host of gaming systems. From mainline titles to spinoffs, dedicated Sonic fans had a lot to sink their teeth into back then. Since the release of Forces, all we really have to show for ourselves is a (personally) insignificant expansion to Sonic Mania and a new racing title which, frankly, didn’t set the world on fire when it was released. I suppose there’s a whole host of mobile titles that I didn’t mention but it’s difficult to get excited over yet another Sonic auto-runner. Perhaps most bafflingly, there haven’t even been many ports of older Sonic titles to modern hardware. If the mid-2000s were the dark ages of Sonic, perhaps right now we’re living in the “silent age,” where basically nothing is even happening and the franchise is at an eternal standstill.

The sole exception to this self-titled silent era was the Sonic movie, which I don’t think anyone anticipated being as big of a success as it was. Including the studio behind it. And especially including SEGA. It was utterly baffling to me that, upon the film’s release, there was nothing in the way of a tie-in game. Nothing directly associated with the movie. Nothing separate to release alongside the movie. Nothing. Some have speculated that SEGA was supremely unconfident in the film and it's hard to argue otherwise. It seems that, in a sense, the movie was a success in spite of the company the IP is linked with.

That’s why this anniversary feels more peculiar than the last one. At least Sonic was doing something in the early 2010s. Perhaps nothing groundbreaking, but he was at least around. If it hadn’t been for the movie, how in the world would the series be attracting new fans? This anniversary needs to be big. It needs to be the explosive re-emergence of Sonic to not only please the jaded oldies but the next generation of kids. And… I just don’t anticipate anything of the sort.

To me, Sonic Team has about four directions they could take the 30th anniversary game. Here they are, listed in descending order of likelihood.

4. A new “boost” game. Sonic Team ain’t opening that can of worms again.

3. A new “classic Sonic” game. While Christian Whitehead’s new studio has been deafeningly silent since forming, I believe that we’d have a bit more information about a Sonic Mania sequel by now if that was indeed in development.

2. Something entirely different.

1. Sonic Adventure 3 (or comparable analog).

Now, your reaction to that list may differ depending on your preferences and the year you were born. To me, something evoking nostalgia to the two Sonic Adventures is the safest and most likely choice for SEGA and Sonic Team. Just as classic nostalgia permeated through the 2010s, Adventure nostalgia will trailblaze full force through the 2020s. There are a lot of people whose only exposure to Sonic at all is playing Sonic Adventure 2 Battle on their GameCube. And the only way those people could potentially get funneled back into the series is through a proper Sonic Adventure 3, or at least something like it.

This, of course, says nothing about the overall quality of what this new Adventure title would be. And really, this is my main concern with the 30th anniversary. Can I even trust Sonic Team anymore to put out a good game?

Regardless of style, I’m unconfident to say the least. The staff that worked on the Adventure titles are not at SEGA anymore. The staff that spearheaded the “boost trilogy” of Unleashed, Colors, and Generations are not at SEGA anymore. And modern-day Sonic Team’s idea of something entirely different is, well, unappealing. Sonic Lost World proved that trying to change the core of the series for its own sake leads to a bland and uninspiring experience. And Forces? Oh… Forces.

Really, Forces is the main reason why I’m so disillusioned. Maybe it was that I was excited for the grand return of the boost. Maybe it was that I loved Generations so much that a proper sequel to it couldn’t possibly be bad. Instead of being a sequel to Generations, though, it tries to be everything at once. A game to appeal to the classic fans, the Adventure fans, the boost fans, those whole love complicated narratives, those who love the many characters this series has, and, obviously, the Original Character Artists™. Jack of all trades, master of nothing. A directionless, soulless game that in some instances is seemingly artificially-generated.

If this spectacular 30th anniversary Sonic game is something entirely different, it had to break an astounding amount of new ground. It had to rethink and reshape the series so drastically that, honestly, I don’t think it's very likely. I don’t think Sonic Team has even the slightest clue about what makes their flagship IP so appealing to so many people. If the nostalgia-fueled 2010s are any indication, SEGA only understands what makes Sonic so popular on a superficial level. 

They know we liked the 2D games, so now EVERY game has 2D in it! Oh, they didn’t like that Sonic has green eyes. Well, let’s bring back the CLASSIC version of Sonic. Let’s actually make him his own character who will also appear in every game! 

New zone ideas? LMAO how about we reuse the same set of classic levels over and over! Green Hill? YES! Chemical Plant? Of course! Let’s make an entire game that has both Sonics running around in a bunch of old zones. Wait, didn’t we just do that idea last year for Sonic 4 Episode 1? And aren’t we going to do that idea NEXT year for Sonic 4 Episode 2? WAIT DID SOMEONE SAY CHECKERBOARD PATTERNS IN WINDY HILL ZONE!???!!!! 

Oh wait, Christian Whitehead just pitched to us a brand new 2D Sonic game with classic physics and new levels? We’ll let him do it, but ONLY if it is ANOTHER nostalgia game that reuses old zones! 

Let’s inundate our fans with the same images of their childhood to activate their dopamine receptors! 

I can hardly wait for what this team’s idea of Sonic Adventure nostalgia looks like. Hope you really like City Escape.

Really, while such appeals to nostalgia are welcome the first few times, after a while it starts to get grating. Sonic Team leaning so hard into it during the 2010s reeks to me of desperation. As if the constant callbacks are the only thing the team knows how to do to link new games with the rest of the series. 

In actuality, fans don’t like Sonic because of the classic design or 2D-platforming or Green Hill Zone. They may like those things, but it isn’t why they continue to support the series. Fans love Sonic so fervently because, when he hits on all cylinders, he really hits. His games play in a supremely rewarding way where skill mastery is key. The better you are at Sonic, the better you feel while playing it. The personalities and designs of all of the different characters, from Sonic to Tails to Vector the freakin’ Crocodile, are not only distinct from each other but bleed through into gameplay in the way that they control and in how they are animated. Sonic’s best stories are ones that people can really relate to, dealing with a whole host of themes such as environmentalism, resisting fascism, surpassing expectations, and even the concept of free will among nonhuman entities. Not especially deep, but certainly thought provoking, especially for kids. All tied together with top notch visual and audio design that will stand the test of time. I’d posit that, while people like Sonic for a whole host of reasons, their starting point lies somewhere in the above explanation.

Hopefully, Sonic Team has realized by now that nostalgia will only get them so far. While a Sonic Adventure 3 would turn heads, it wouldn’t push the series forward. While a proper sequel to Sonic Mania would be a critical darling, it would continue to keep Sonic’s feet firmly planted in 1991. Sonic needs to evolve. He needs to change. And it seems like a change is happening. Roger Craig Smith, the voice of Sonic for the last 10 years, is no longer working with the series. The new TV series, Sonic Prime, is set to take place in a “strange new multiverse.” Even the Sonic movie refuses to lean on nostalgia too hard. 

So maybe the future will be set in unfamiliar waters. But if this is the case, I don’t want SEGA to half ass it. I want them to boldly step into that abyss with a vision of Sonic that appeals to the heart of the fandom. Because, even if it's been down recently, that heart is still beating, and after the abuse it's already taken, it’s going to take a hell of a lot to get it to stop. And if SEGA can get this heart pumping to its full extreme as it had in years past, we may have something legendary to look forward to.

They could also just release a bunch of old Sonic games on Switch. I’d like that too.

[fingaudioart]

Hill House, and Audio Horror vs Film Horror

I got to thinking about this when an audio producer on Twitter asked what people thought the scariest parts of Haunting of Hill House, other than the jump scares. What struck me while reading the responses were almost all things that depended on the visuals, and would be very hard to move into the realm of audio.

I feel like many/most people think of horror movies as a template to build off of for horror audio fiction...which is fair, because for many of us, horror audio fiction wasn’t a thing we could find to listen to until recently (myself included). And it’s not uncommon to hear a successful, talent audio producer say something along the lines of “An audio drama is like a movie, without needing a million dollar budget.”

I agree with the thought, generally: audio fiction does have many similarities to film, but if you stretch it too far, it can be a dangerous approach. And it can be especially dangerous for Horror.

Let’s think about how we could move the Bent Neck Lady into audio (spoilers ahead). Except for one scream, she is silent and unmoving. To move it into audio, we’d either need a narrator (or someone to tell us what’s happening), or to make Bent Neck Lady move around. The first option would keep the nature of the ghost intact, but we would be robbed of having it happen in front of us. The second option would change the nature of the ghost entirely. This is before we even talk about the twist, that hinges on Bent Neck Lady largely being a silhouette, which obscures information without feeling like anything.

Horror is a genre that is especially dependent on craftsmanship, regardless of the medium. It’s a genre where--and you’re going to murder me for saying this--you don’t need a good story to be scary. You need a scary situation/scene, told with skill, but even if the scenes/plot/characters around it are terrible, you can still make the audience feel afraid (Looking at you, Argento).

That’s not to say the story doesn’t matter. In fact, a large part of what makes Haunting of Hill House so good is that it’s part horror, but also part family melodrama (and it actually spends more time on the melodrama than the horror), blended together so the ghosts have meaning. Bent Neck Lady is disturbing the first time you see it, but it’s the story behind it that makes her stay with you long after you’ve finished the show.

But if we set aside the story, and focus on the scary moments...they are pure filmmaking. Every aspect is working to create fear: the sets and art direction, the creature design, the pacing, the blocking, the editing, the sound design.

The same way a horror movie uses every weapon of filmmaking, a horror audio drama should use every weapon of audio to create dread/fear/suspense. But the flip side is, just as Haunting of Hill House isn’t using the tools of horror literature, your audio drama shouldn’t try to be a movie.

But I think we also need to own up to something: many of us (most of us?) have more experience watching horror movies than listening to horror audio dramas. So let’s get analytical here. What are films strengths? Audio’s strengths? Weakness? And how do these work in service of horror? Any tips for the audio drama producer?

Filmmaking’s Unique Gifts

Before I get into the list, I want to be very clear: I’m not to saying you can’t do versions of this in an audio drama. In fact, when these are successfully used in audio, they can be outright amazing. But they take a lot more work, either by carefully setting up signature sounds*, or by having narration, or some other creative way no one has done yet. The point of this list is that film does these things easily.

There are some obvious things, like, ya know, visuals. I don't think there's any amount of words or sounds that would allow me to imagine Giger’s Xenomorph. Some things just need to be seen.

One of film's special talents is it gives the audience an understanding of a location without even trying. I don’t mean the layout of a house (that can be confusing), but present an audience with one shot of a bedroom, and they’ll instantly understand where the bed is, the window, the door, the closet, the bedside tables. Films communicate small spaces so easily, they don't even need to stop to do it…a character walks in the room doing whatever, and as long as the space is seen by the camera, the audience gets it.

In horror, this is vital when the fear you're trying to create is that of a physical threat. Where is the killer? Behind the bookcase? Walking towards you from across the lawn?

Related to this idea of a physical space, films also have the ability to makes things appear--and disappear--quickly and unexpectedly. This is moments like Mike Meyers appearing in the closet in Halloween, or later, when Dr. Loomis looks over the edge of the Balcony, and Michael Meyers has vanished.

Perhaps film’s most famous strength is the montage. You can easily cut between different scenes and settings, without the audience ever getting confused.

There is one tool of film that I am very frustrated won’t work in audio: the Title Card. I don’t mean the title of the show, I mean those cards that say things like “Burbank, CA” or “CIA Headquarters” or “3:23pm.” Text on screen is a painless way to give the audience information without tripping up the storytelling.

Finally, let’s talk about one of film’s most powerful tricks...patience.

A film can stretch moments out, sometimes with slomo, but often with editing between close-ups. You can also have moments where nothing happens, you just linger in the mood/ambience/characters reactions. 

A great example is the “Spielberg-Face”, those shots when the characters are reacting to something the audience hasn’t seen yet. In Jurassic Park, we spend a full 30 seconds watching jaws drop before we see the first dinosaur. This is pretty nuts, when you think about it. The true stars of the movie aren’t introduced with a speech, or a title card, or a curtain pulling back, but by the characters just staring in the distance for half a page.

Pausing the action, or even just stretching it out, is one of the fundamental tools of horror movies. It’s a way to create the mood: Show the spooky location, play the spooky ambience. It’s a way to create suspense in a scene, think of the long POV shot scanning the room for that noise. End the moment with something suddenly appearing, and you have the basic recipe for a jump scare. Even if you decide to be an artsy horror story, like Haunting of Hill House, silently drawing out the action is your primary weapon. Done well, the audience will be rapt, knowing that something could be about to happen any moment, even though as far as the plot goes, we haven’t moved much at all.

I’ll be honest, if I could go back in time and tell the younger version of me who hadn’t made an audio drama yet that you can’t draw out a moment the way you do in film, I probably would not have believed me. In my work as a TV Editor, it’s been one of the tricks that has really elevated my pieces...it feels like magic. But I’ll never forget editing my first audio piece, having a character fumble with a doorknob while trying to escape someone who was chasing them. They grunted at the door as the footsteps got closer and closer, and it was lousy. It felt like the manipulation it was.

Audio’s Unique Gifts

The thing that audio does better than any other media--and this is controversial--a narrator feels like they are talking directly to you, the listener (a narrator in a film feels more like they are talking to an auditorium). Now, here are people who find that narration is jarring and takes them out of the story. They aren’t wrong--you can’t argue someone’s experience--but that’s certainly not what happens to me. If you are one of these poor souls, I hope you take some time to listen to some narration and reprogram your brain, because you’re missing out on some magic.

The other great thing about sound is it activates the imagination. Films can also do this, of course, but audio does it be default.

Sound is also very good at evoking a sense of touch. Texture. Clothing. Almost anything you can feel in your hand.

While sounds is great at telling us about what’s very close, it also tells us about the world in the distance, i.e. ambiences. The sound of a forest transports us to a forest that exists in all directions. Distant traffic can tell us if the city is awake or asleep.

Audio also does an amazing plot twist that I’m gonna call the “Pull Back to Reveal” twist (yeah, that’s a film term). This is when, deep into a scene, something is revealed to the audience that the characters understood was there the whole time. While a movie can usually only sustain this for a minute or two, audio dramas can push this for a really long time. The Truth’s classic “The Dark End of the Mall” is a great example, as is the episode “Have You Seen My Mom?” It’s use in horror is more limited though...suspense works the best when the audience knows as much or more about the situation than characters (a.k.a. Audience Superior), and this is a twist that is Audience Inferior.

And, not for nothing: It’s way cheaper than a film. That’s not say the money doesn’t matter, but it doesn’t matter in the same way. 

Film’s Failings

The hardest part of film is the flip side of its strengths: it’s so easily grounded in reality, it’s very hard to step out of it. That’s more of a problem than you think.

Take the sentence, “Andy called his sister-in-law.” While it takes just four words to write in a book, in a movie, you are going to be contorting dialog or some other clever trick, to get the audience to understand “that’s his wife’s sister.” (Non-narrated audio dramas also have this problem with exposition.)

Same goes for backstory. In the middle of a scene, a book can say things like “She’d been working on this for ten hours now, and was ready to scream.” One sentence. A film would have to lay out exposition, or clues for the audience to put it together.

Film also has a hard time conveying senses other than sound or sight. During scenes where a character walks into a place and says “Ugh, what’s that smell!”, I never really imagine the smell, I just see an actor pretending to smell something.

Visuals can be too intense. Gore or nudity are the first things that come to mind in this category, and are often alluded to in a film for exactly that reason. But even if they are merely hinted at, the film audience may spend a scene wondering “Are they going to actually show it?”, which knocks you out the movie a little. 

Films are complicated to make, at every level. Casting is tougher---the actor needs to both sound and look the part. There’s the expense of sets and lighting, the effort of just getting a crew to a location can be monumental. And once it’s all shot, film editing is more complicated and time intensive than audio editing, and not just because it involves audio editing.

Audio's Weakness

The biggest: There's a big Blindspot right in front of the audience. Without some careful context, raw audio recording from real life is disorienting at best, intelligible at worst. Most sounds that come from the blank spot are descriptive, they generally tell us if someone’s shoes are wet, but they won’t tell who is walking around the room in wet shoes.

This blind spot can be especially dangerous to a producer, because in real life, our brain attaches sounds to the objects it sees, and when you understand what a sound is, it’s easy to place it. Because a producer knows what sound they are placing in the piece, it’s easy to think your sound design is intelligible. Sounds we don’t understand are also hard to place in the space. I personally find that while stereo and ambisonics can help make the sounds be more distinct from each other, they don’t really locate them precisely.

Another weakness of audio, characters are hard to tell apart. This can especially affect women's voices, who don't tend to have as much variation. This isn’t as true if the audience has seen the face of the actor talking, something about that seems to lock in our understanding of a voice (video though, not just a headshot). But without a face, it’s tough. EDIT: So I wasn’t very clear with that last point. To be clear, it’s not that you CAN’T cast people who sound different, or that you can’t direct people with similar voices to give different performances. It’s that you need to make a point of doing so. And while I have personally found that women’s voices are more likely to sound alike, that’s not the main idea. We remember face’s very easily, and names relatively easily (unless you’re me, I’m terrible at names). Voices without faces are easily confused.

This character confusion especially applies to large casts...I have a hard time imagining an audio only version of OCEAN’S ELEVEN, for example. Put twelve characters in a room for an audio drama, and it’s gets confusing for the listener really quickly.

If you aren't using a narrator, making time pass can be hard. A Rocky montage needs to be carefully setup.  "Cut To: Five Minutes Later" is damn near impossible without narration.

Sound Effects need to be more meticulous. THE AVENGERS can sweeten a superhero punch so it hardly sounds like a punch at all, and the visuals on screen will lock it into place. Without a picture to give a sound context, they need to be much more realistic for them to be understood correctly.

So let’s put this all together.

Lets turn it into an “approach,” and design some scenes that work easily in the medium. 

Ambiences are a strength, so we’ll pick a setting that has an interesting one, and avoid things like quiet rooms. We’ll have a small number of characters, let’s say four or less, and to make it easier for audience to remember who is who, we’ll cast actors with clearly different voices, and we can help on the script level by making sure they all have different motivations/goals/emotional states. To get that intimacy of the voice, we’ll have at least some of the characters close to each other (and the mics), and not shouting across the room.

The physical setup of the room will be straight forward, and our characters’ movements though the space will be clearly motivated and direct (“Does this key unlock this door?”), if a character has busy work that moves them through the space, the details won’t matter (like they are doing dishes). We’ll also want to have some moments that play on that sense of touch. Perhaps most importantly, we’ll want to paint some clear visuals for the listener to imagine.

For a horror scene, you really want to work your ambiences to make them add to the tension, vs just adding realism. We first want the monsters in the distance, say on the other side of a door or outside the house, or somewhere in the woods. Make our scared characters really close to the listener, play the sounds that you only hear when you are right next to them, like their breathing, swallows, adjusting the clothes or their make-shift weapon.

When the monster enters the room, have it spend as little time as possible in the blindspot, so avoid things like fist fights and fast-paced footchases. Instead get the monster right inside our character's personal bubble. If you’re aiming for a startle, instead of having it leap out in front of the hero like in a movie, you’d want to skip the blindspot, and have the monster pounce onto the hero--using those touch sounds that are so intense.

To me, that sounds like a scary scene.

It’s Not a Formula, and All of This is Nonsense

In fact, you probably wouldn’t want every scene in your piece to follow this, because a) it’ll get repetitive, and b) when you go against the medium, you’re more likely to make some magic (if you pull it off). But I do think it’s important to realize when the big moment of your piece is resting on some of the weaknesses. When this happens, you may want to make sure you’re leaning on something really strong to carry the weight. Other times, you may want to toss around some other ideas, make sure that it’s actually working, and to see if it could be improved.

Also, even though I’ve written a lot of words here, I fully expect someone has already proven every one of these rules wrong. But I also think it’s a good exercise to go through this and figure out why I’m wrong.

The medium matters. And I hate writing conclusions, so I’m ending it here.

*Signature Sound: A sound that the audience understands to mean something specific, such as a doorbell or a gunshot.