#they were actually fairly informed about most of their animals which was wild to me

[paranoiias]

I found easy cat-safe plants at petco 👀

[neonscandal]

So, BNHA & JJK is over, can I ask your final throughts and score (maybe) about them?

For me, BNHA is A- (yes, I love the canon BKDK moments, Bakugou is my fav, and I don't think the ending is that bad, the one thing I feel sad about is LOV ending)

For me, JJK is B+ (yes, I love Gojo/Geto relationship and also Yuuji as mc, but the overall pacing is kinda....)

Sorry for this random ask, just I love reading your thoughts.

Hello old friend 🌼🧡 Never a need to apologize, I appreciate you reaching out! I am really sad about both series ending so abruptly, honestly. Like I'm actively avoiding catching up with the MHA anime because I know I won't be able to see it for the first time again and, for some reason, I think rationing the remaining episodes will preserve the series longer for me or something. It is deranged.

But with the final chapters penned and all the information available to us, we can fairly reflect on them. I feel like I should caveat by saying that I've never known how to pick my favorite of anything so i hope you'll forgive the subjectivity of my answers. Considering we go way back, I feel like you already know that so, without further delay -

My Hero Academia | Manga With Me, Rating: A

Thanks for the brain rot, Horikoshi, and for allowing a massive and diverse fandom see themselves individually in the array of characters you breathed life into.

Honestly, I agree with your assessment here. MHA, in many ways, went against the grain of shonen which was a bit of a wild ride and led to some great plot twists.

ART + STORY

Initially, I separated these but found I couldn’t talk about one without bringing up the other. The fun and complexity of an ensemble show with different styles for certain characters is so refreshing from an art and comedic perspective. Even the way the fourth wall breaks is so tongue in cheek.. until it isn’t. All parts of the story are so perfectly in tune with Deku’s perception of the world and the stakes involved at different points of the story. Like the break when Deku shifts into All Might’s illustration style to make Sir Nighteye laugh and Aoyama’s sly little eye connects. But later those fourth wall breaks are a bit more devastating and you realize Aoyama’s meant to be grabbing your attention, you only realize too late which makes you complicit bystander in the narrative.

In so many ways, the art drives the story. As things get to their breaking point, you really see Horikoshi’s potential as a gore mangaka which is such a dramatic shift from where the art started.

The story (and art) was thoughtful and the overall message is simple but meaningful. Additionally, at every opportunity to cave to formulaic shonen expectations, those pitfalls were subverted for something a bit more honest, in my opinion. Specifically as it pertains to letting the most meaningful relationship of the story authentically be that of the rivals the whole story hinges on.

ENDING

MY HEART. There were many points where my conspiracies were super off and that’s also nice. You couldn’t always guess where the story was headed. While the final battle, in my mind, didn’t end as I imagined… that doesn’t actually matter. It’s in line with the story just in ways we wouldn’t typically imagine with the happy go lucky start. I haven’t really deep dived into my thoughts about the ending (and won’t too much here for the sake of brevity and not spoiling). But sometimes, like the characters of MHA, we too have to be satisfied with what we had while we had it. It’s also okay for us to reframe our perception and understanding of the world through the lens of new experiences and necessary to come to terms with the fact that the reality of something is not always aligned with how we may have built them up in our heads.

Jujutsu Kaisen | Manga With Me, Rating: A

Overlord Gege, wherever you are, you can no longer hurt me or any of your characters. Tears were shed.

ART + STORY

The last time I compared the two, I basically mentioned that you can’t really compare the art of something still in its relative infancy. At the time, I spoke, possibly from a place of delusion, that imagined the manga would continue on and explore more of the ramifications and motivations of its villains. Or, hell, even provide more background into some of our favorite characters as opposed to waiting for interviews for insight. With the way the story kind of abruptly ends, we have the full body of work but, as a reader, it feels like we’re missing pieces.

However, this, too, is in the spirit of how Akutami provided exposition throughout the story. Unless it was a proverbial “fuck you” to their editor (by including Yuji gambling in pachinko and making Hakari’s whole technique gambling with a multi-page spread explanation…) or to us (using that one bitching manga sorcerer, I guess that could have been a critique for anyone 😂), Akutami pretty brusquely had a story to tell and we were purely spectators.

Either you followed along like Yuji, someone who is being newly introduced to the jujutsu world while keeping hands and feet inside the ride at all times* like his life depended on it, or you were left in the dust like Junpei (RIP to those who Do Not Finish). Bear in mind, much of the story’s exposition was just.. matter of fact. Characters would be foreshadowed well before their official debut like Maki and Yuta and it wasn’t until the culling games that we knew just how unhinged Megumi was that whole. time. with his predilection for self destruction revealed in his very first fight and boomeranging back in his final fight.

*A/N: I realize I have some international readers - this is guidance typically given to someone getting on a rollercoaster where I’m from.

In places, the art felt a bit rushed where, in other places, it was exquisite. Overall, the story and the way in which it was told was extremely unapologetic and yet, characters who ultimately became mere cannon fodder could have such heart rending impacts on the reader even if their back story was nonexistent. Like, thanks for the trauma, Gege. ✨ So to a degree, my rating here is a bit subjective just because it made me feel things.

ENDING

The last few chapters, the After as it were, are very much on brand for things as they are and have been shown to be in jujutsu society. Back at it again with not enough resources to process the trauma because there will always be more evil to conquer. But as to the great and final fight, while I can understand it, from a story perspective I still think there’s something missing (this is not about Gojo). Like, there should have just been more. Even if we get that grain of redemption, it feels like the triumph is not worth the many, many sacrifices and isn’t that part of it, too?

TL,DNR: I am still in turmoil about both series ending and, while I understand where fans may be dissatisfied with each story’s ending, I feel like they are still in line with their overarching narratives. Sometimes the reality that there’s not always a nice ribbon to tie everything up is just as bitter when experienced in fiction.

[eleneressea]

#No thoughts here but a willingness to listen#And the knowledge that at least among the calaquendi (general) and noldor(specifically) the accoutrement must be elaborate and buckwild#Like. The material culture around the tea culture would just be nutso#(I feel like the sindar are equally wild but specifically about plant varieties and season of harvest and drying methods etc#And the actual accoutrement is kept deliberately simple.) (@shrikeseams)

haha! you have activated my trap card.

so obviously tea plants can be found in Aman, given the whole "all (or almost all) plants/animals in Arda can be found in Aman" thing, and so clearly the Amanyar have tea.

(I particularly like the idea that tea plants are native to Cuiviénien and so basically all elves have some kind of tea culture. The elves preparing for the journey anxiously asking Oromë if there are tea plants there or should they bring their own tea plants? Several of them decide to bring their own tea plants anyway so that they have their favorite variety.)

Sindar tea culture is extremely picky about their tea plants, I'm with you there. They scrupulously distinguish between teas (made from the leaves of the tea tree) and tisanes/infusions (made from other plants), and whether the leaves come from the shady or sunny side of the hill is considered basic information.

The Northern Sindar and other non-Doriathrim Sindar in the First Age use tea bricks fairly commonly, both because they're more transportable and because they use more milk, butter, and salt in their teas, but in Doriath this is seen as the inferior method; they prefer loose-leaf tea served without any additions. (Side headcanon: Doriathrim don't really use dairy products, nor do they eat a lot of beef or mutton; the land-use necessary for bovids doesn't really work if you're in a forest.) In later ages, the tea-brick use continues to develop and a matcha-like method of preparing tea becomes common among the Sindar.

Noldor love any excuse to Make Things, as we know. I picture them with elaborate silver teapots, which makes me think about Maghrebi mint tea, so that's how the Noldor roll, tea-wise; black or green tea with lots of mint (or other herbs) and a big lump of sugar in the tea pot. The Exiles had a lot of contact with the Northern Sindar and probably adopted some of their tea habits as well, and vice-versa. (I like to think that Maglor and Maedhros were careful to introduce the twins to Sindar customs, but because they didn't really have much contact with Doriath those customs are predominately those of the Northern and Eastern Sindar and the Laiquendi.)

The Vanyar made Tree-tea, where room temperature water is combined with tea leaves and then left in the light of Laurelin for several hours to brew it. After the death of the Trees they switched to sun-tea but it's not quite the same; it doesn't take as long to steep and this changes the flavors somewhat. Most people don't care but the older snobs do. They also make sweet tea.

(slams hands on table) who has thoughts about elves' tea culture

[delimeful]

mere monstrosity (1)

warnings: spiders, misunderstandings, captivity

-

Logan woke up to the familiar soft chime of his alarm, and rolled out of bed bleary-eyed but ready to get the day started. He kept quiet as he crept out of the room.

He didn’t bother grabbing his glasses, knowing that they’d only be of use after his shower. His feet knew the way from his bedroom to the bathroom by heart, and he preferred to shower in the dark to avoid the likelihood of getting one of his light-sensitivity migraines, so he didn’t reach for the lightswitch either.

Instead, he pushed quietly past the half-open door and fumbled for the shower knob, cranking it up to exactly the point before it turned scalding.

The water flickered on a moment later, and amidst the clamor of droplets against ceramic, he heard an indistinct, high-pitched noise, like a chirp or squeak.

“A mouse?” he muttered to himself, squinting at the dark, blurry interior of the shower.

He couldn’t hear anything else over the spray, so he quickly turned the shower off and stepped back to flick the lightswitch on, potential headaches be damned.

He pulled the shower curtain fully to the side, and blinked at the sight of a blurry black splotch in the corner of his bathtub. Leaning in a little further, he could briefly make out individual legs, long and numerous, before they were pulled closer and blended in with the rest of the shape.

“You are… a considerably large spider,” he informed it, grateful that it was him and not Patton who had found it. The resulting terrified shriek would have woken him and Janus, and probably most of the neighbors for that matter. “Are you a tarantula? Are tarantulas even native to this area?”

The spider, rather predictably, didn’t respond, and Logan recalled that he’d just doused the poor thing with jets of cold water. It was probably curling all its limbs in a mock death-curl, trying to process the unexpected threat to its breathing and body temperature.

He reached over to the counter and carefully removed the collection of multicolored toothbrushes from the plastic cup next to their sink, tapping it against the side of the counter to clear out any remaining dust.

“Try to stay still, alright?” he coaxed in a low voice, crouching and leaning over the tub to get a better angle. “I don’t want to catch any of your limbs, just keep them all tucked in close like that and I’ll get you out of there.”

To his surprise, the spider really didn’t make any sudden moves, remaining frozen as he settled the cup over it. The only reason he was sure it was still alive was the tiny motion of its front legs, two little investigative nudges against the edge of the cup.

“Excellent job,” he praised, his curiosity only growing. Most of the spiders he had cupped would immediately run at the glass with arms lifted in threat, or run in frantic circles along the edges seeking an escape. Of course, none of them had been this large. Most wild tarantulas were hunters, though, not spinners. Aggression would serve them well, so why was this one so docile? Was it an escaped pet? Had the cold water been that shocking?

He quickly retrieved a folder from the living room, returning to find that the plastic cup had shifted a couple of inches. It was large enough to push it, then.

“Just a little bit more,” he continued to soothe, carefully sliding the folder under the cup bit by bit, allowing the spider time to shift its legs onto the folder so the tips wouldn’t be pinched. He then carefully lifted the whole ensemble up, keeping a cautious hand on top of the cup. “There we go.”

The kitchen was dimly lit, the small light under the microwave still on so that anyone getting water in the middle of the night wouldn’t trip or run into anything in the dark. Logan glanced at the front door for a long moment, and then gave in to the urge to investigate his catch a bit closer. It would be irresponsible to just release a domesticated tarantula into the wild, after all.

He set the cup and folder down carefully on the counter, and then placed a heavy ceramic plate on top of the cup, reasoning that it was better to make sure the spider wouldn’t push the cup-- and itself-- right off the counter.

“One moment.” That done, he went into his room to retrieve his glasses, leaving the light off so as to not wake up Janus, who had only gotten in from his night shift a few hours ago. His roommate normally slept heavily once he managed to get to sleep, so Logan didn’t have to worry about waking him by climbing out of their shared bed, but better not to risk turning the lights on in the first place.

The world came into a much clearer focus once he’d pushed his glasses into their proper place atop his nose, and with his vision improved, he had no problems finding the hall closet and rummaging through it for one of Janus’s old terrariums.

He set the glass case down on the kitchen counter without any furnishings inside-- he was only planning to get a good look at the specimen, after all-- and flicked on the kitchen light before carefully moving the trapped spider into the terrarium and then lifting the cup away.

The spider frantically scuttled back, smacking thorax-first into the glass wall of the terrarium, and Logan frowned contemplatively at the sight of it.

It was certainly a tarantula, one that he’d probably be able to find online fairly easily with the distinctive white stripes along it’s eight fuzzy legs. Concerningly enough, there was an odd swelling protrusion on the anterior part of the body. It was a similar dark shade to the rest of the body, but almost larger than the thorax, and it blocked off any sight of the pedipalps, fangs, or eyes.

The texture didn’t seem to match the carapace… Perhaps it was a piece of garbage or organic waste that had gotten stuck on the creature? If it hindered movement, that could explain why it had been so still earlier.

It wasn’t still now, exhibiting an odd vibrating throughout its body that Logan had never witnessed from a spider before. He would certainly be doing some research into arthropods after this.

Well, at the very least, he could see if that protruding material would come loose.

Logan carefully pulled on one of Janus’s thick leather gloves, one of the more worn sets in case the spider had urticating hairs, and then reached down. The spider seemed to spot his shadow, going by the way it stiffened, and he reminded himself that though he didn’t know the species and many tarantulas were venomous, it was incredibly unlikely their venom would be able to do more than hurt him.

Confidence restored, he continued reaching down until his fingers met the odd lump, at which point a low, guttural hiss sounded, and the spider threw its front legs up and lunged, slapping its limbs down against the floor of the terrarium in threat.

Logan remained undeterred by the small tantrum, instead focusing on the fact that the obstruction was loose, almost like shed skin on a snake. Studying the spider carefully, he pinched it gently between two fingers, trying to discern what in the world it could possibly be.

The next three movements happened in rapid succession.

First, Logan tugged lightly at the material caught between his fingers. Second, the spider recoiled sharply, pulling away from his grip with surprising strength. And third, the covering came loose, the spider pulling free from it and leaving a limp swathe of fabric hanging from Logan’s fingers.

Below him, now uncovered, there was pale skin, a mop of bedraggled hair, and a tiny, terrified human face.

Logan froze, staring down at it-- them with wide eyes.

The being he’d mistaken for a spider was actually a drider, a creature of myth that was apparently all too real. Logan couldn’t help how stunned he felt. Even apart from the shock of the discovery, there was the shock of their size. Driders were said to have a human-sized spider half, not the other way around!

Below, the drider was still frozen in place, staring right back up at him. He could see the way their little chest was heaving with quick, panicked breaths, could feel the way the tiny makeshift poncho in his hand was sodden and cold, and he felt guilt strike him like a ruler across knuckles.

“I-- Hold on a moment, please,” he managed, his mind racing as he stepped back, turning and hurrying out of the room.

Once again, the hall closet held exactly what he needed, and he mentally rescinded all his past complaints about the amount of extra snake care items Janus had stashed away in their storage closet like a dragon’s hoard.

The heat lamp was compact enough to fit easily in the terrarium, where the spider-person had scuttled back to press themself into the furthest corner, limbs pulled in tightly in what had to be a fear response.

Logan set the lamp carefully inside and plugged it in, sighing in relief when the bulb lit up and began to glow orange. “This lamp is designed for reptiles, not arthropods, so it may be too hot for extended use. However, it will work temporarily as a heat source to get rid of excess moisture, so I encourage you to use it.”

The drider was glaring up at him with the tiniest scowl he’d ever seen, front legs still lifted up defensively, but didn’t say a word.

“Do you speak?” Logan asked, and received only silence in return. “I suppose I should have guessed as much, seeing as you haven’t responded to any of my previous statements. Do you understand me? Do we speak the same language?”

The drider glared harder.

“I find it hard to believe that you have animal-level intelligence,” Logan continued, now mostly to himself. He lifted a hand, displaying the poncho he still held. “Although some birds can ‘sew’, construction of clothing to cover one’s form is a complex and distinctly human sentiment.”

Still, nothing. Their gaze was caught by the poncho for a moment before they looked away entirely, looking for all the world to be sulking.

Logan sighed, and then slowly moved to place the poncho next to the heat lamp, laying it out flat for easier drying. “I’m going to attend to my morning routine. It should only take me a few moments, but please feel free to call or make noise if you need my attention between now and then.”

The drider’s expression had eased into confusion at the sight of their garment laid out before them, but their legs remained warily upright as Logan left the room.

As promised, he only made a brief stop to make sure both of his roommates were still soundly asleep before climbing into the shower and preparing himself for the day, roughly fifteen minutes behind schedule.

It wasn’t too disruptive-- it had eaten into the time he normally allotted for sitting at the table and eating breakfast, so that would have to be skipped today, but it wasn’t the end of the world.

Honestly, he’d likely spend the rest of the day thinking about the surprise addition to his morning. There were so many questions he’d love to ask, but seeing as the creature had attempted to hide their existence even at risk of being perceived as a normal spider (and therefore possibly squashed), he expected he wouldn’t be receiving any answers.

Talkative or not, the drider clearly had sapient levels of intelligence, and Logan was loath to start off humanity’s relationship with a vulnerable and secretive species by keeping them trapped in a snake terrarium against their will.

Even if he was willing to weigh scientific advancement over his morals, his roommates would never allow it. Patton would naturally be terrified and possibly sympathetic when witnessing their clear terror, and he’d had enough extensive debates on ethics with Janus to know that his opinion on keeping them captive would be much the same.

So, when he returned to the kitchen and saw them toppling over and scurrying back from the heat lamp that they’d clearly been attempting to use as a makeshift ladder to freedom, Logan didn’t bother commenting, simply moving forward and looking them over.

“You seem to have mostly dried,” he stated instead, able to appreciate the subtle design work of the poncho better now that it wasn’t being used as camouflage. The drider gripped it like they thought he might take it away.

They would react fairly badly to him reaching out with his hand, and reasonably so. Logan hadn’t exactly done much except douse, capture, and then gently interrogate them. Not exactly trustworthy behavior.

He studied the terrarium for a moment before grabbing a washcloth and draping it over the side, providing an easy textured surface for the spider to climb up. There. “You are free to go.”

The surprised expression that flashed across their face was almost comical.

“I’m not sure what your purpose in the bathroom was, but I’d ask you to be more careful in the future. One of my roommates…,” Logan sighed through his nose, exasperated even imagining it. “Well, suffice to say you should avoid him at all costs.”

The tiny drider continued to stare at him, gaze occasionally flickering over to the towel with clear suspicion. It was saddening to be so distrusted, but perhaps this show of goodwill would help prove that he didn’t intend any harm? He hoped he hadn’t frightened them from the residence entirely-- he shuddered at the many, many potential dangers the creature would find outside.

“My roommates will wake later in the day, so if you intend to avoid their notice, I’d suggest leaving the enclosure as soon as I have departed for work,” he gave a little farewell wave, not reacting to the slight flinch it elicited from the little guy. “It-- well, you probably don’t share the sentiment, but still-- it was nice to meet you. Goodbye.”

Forcing himself not to turn back and get one last look, Logan hurried out the door.

[kit-herondale-carstairs]

TDA Characters on TikTok

Julian: doesn’t post very often because he is a father but when he does it is always him painting or drawing something with lofi music or him sharing a tidbit about one of the children or other family members (Kieran, Cristina, Diana, Emma and Aline included and always with their explicit permission). 

- He’s very popular without even trying and most assume he is a young single father (which isn’t wrong).

-  Mostly finds himself on cottagecore or parent side of tiktok. 

- doesn’t understand all the thirsty comments he gets because “I don’t even show my face, Emma, why would they think I’m attractive?” but always shares them with Emma because they make her laugh.

Emma: Does it for the girls and the gays, that’s it. Posts nearly every day and page is generally a mixture of self defense videos, vintage makeup/dress tutorials, and videos slamming the patriarchy but also always does the latest dancing videos and other trends.

- always tries to get others to join in on her trend videos, mostly joined by Mark and Cristina when she can rope her in.

- Nearly broke tiktok when she got Julian to do the “You could have been nicer to me” trend because NO ONE KNEW THEY WERE DATING  AND EVEN THOUGH THEY COULDN’T SEE HIS FACE EVERYONE RECOGNIZED HIS VOICE AND HE WAS SO SWEET WHEN HE OFFERED TO TAKE HER TO HER FAVORITE THRIFT STORE AND BUY HER SOME DRESSES AFTER HE PUT THE “BABY” DOWN FOR HIS NAP. 

- - everyone knows the “baby” is actually at least seven but no one ever said his name because he’s too young so everyone collectively knows him as “the baby”

- solidly on gay tiktok even though she’s straight. 

Mark: Daily blogs. Everyone thinks he’s shit posting because it’s all wild things like standing in a middle of a circle of flowers and talking about “this pixie named Aelia lives here and she’s a BITCH”. Often shows videos of him cooking or baking wild concoctions that range from “Okay, I’d try that” to “this is why God has abandoned us”. 

- Does dancing videos with Emma all the time and often acts as the “creeper” in her self defense videos. 

- Caused a meltdown on tiktok when he casually mentioned his “partners” and started creating videos to raise awareness for polyamory. 

- Revealed Julian was his brother when he posted a video of Julian yelling at him for a solid minute because “the baby is covered in honey, why is the baby covered in honey, Mark? We don’t let the baby bathe in honey even if he really wants to Mark -” 

- solidly on cooking and gay tiktok, often takes a sharp left into “crackhead” tiktok

Kieran: Posts videos of cats he finds and rates them. The lowest ever was a 9.5/10 because “she bit me fairly hard but I scared her and I deserved it for trying to pet her without permission”. 

- does not do any trends or reveal much personal information. 

- Was always considered wholesome until he (on a dare from Dru) posted a video joking about choking a bossy sub that rounded up on kinktok. 

-- everyone went through a brief freak out trying to figure out if he had a partner but it was never solved. 

--- No one noticed that Mark posted a video joking about how “one of his partners was absolutely in the doghouse” accompanied by someone sitting in a cardboard ‘doghouse’ around the exact same time. 

- solidly on animal tiktok but occasionally veers into kinktok with more (less explicit) dom/sub humor. 

Cristina: Does not have her own tiktok but often appears in videos with Emma and occasionally shows up in Mark’s. 

- Absolute sweetheart always, even when she is demonstrating a self defense move with Emma, and is always commended for trying Mark’s foods. 

-- especially commended when trying the foods while, offscreen, their other partner yells about “Hell food” 

- is flattered with all the comments begging her to start her own tiktok but doesn’t feel like she has the time to fully commit to one properly. 

Livvy: (She’s alive, don’t @ me) Does absolutely all the new trends and also does various acting POVs 

- her soulmate POVs are most popular but she also is known for dueting act-along POVS with other popular creators

- also occasionally posts videos rating the best male actors/superheroes and once got into a long drawn out back to back war with someone on whether or not Captain America really had “America’s ass” 

- had a very popular multiple-part series about being a girl in the MCU dating the various Avengers but ended it abruptly after Endgame because “Natasha Romanoff deserved better and it hurts too much”

-she used to post occasional videos where she laments on being the “only single person in the family” but she started getting some very creepy duets and comments from actual adults so she told Julian and they both agreed it would be better for her to stop them

-- Julian did take the time to duet the people being inappropriate and explained very clearly that their actions were wrong and directed towards a LITERAL CHILD and shamed multiple accounts into flat out deleting

Ty: Posts literally whatever interests him. Has two animal series - one where he shares facts about his favorite kinds of animals and one where he showcases various animals he’s found in the tidepools or around the house. 

- has done several video series of rescuing animals and has at least one where Julian could be heard lecturing him on trying to raise wild animals in his bedroom again 

-- tiktok freaked out because this happened right around the same time as Julian calling out all the creeps on Livvy’s tiktok and no one knew that the twins he talked about were them  

- also does videos about his favorite literary works - notably Sherlock Holmes - and true crime/mystery videos 

-- he always makes sure to carefully put in warnings for anything remotely violent or triggering and has never had a single video taken down for violating the rules even when he did a multiple part series on the Black Dahlia and how her crime was ‘absolutely solved but because the man who did it was rich and white, he got away with it and probably also killed at least two other women, one of whom was killed in the Philippines” 

-  sometimes does twin videos with Livvy because she likes them and it makes her happy. 

Dru: Queen of witch/horror/true crime tiktok. 

- got in trouble with Julian for showing actual runes in videos but everyone just thought they were for the aesthetic so it was fine

- most popular videos is a series where she rates horror movies on how they do on the bechdel test 

- sometimes duets Ty’s or Livvy’s videos just to drag them (with love) 

- Has a very popular series on “women who snapped” and is known for almost rarely during part 2s (and therefore having to speak very very fast) 

- also complains constantly because her videos will get taken down even if they aren’t that violent and includes clips from far worse videos from male creators to point out the double standard

- occasionally dives into tiktok drama just to dabble and then sits on the sidelines and watches it happen

-- 100% built a balloon arch to flex on That Balloon Girl 

- solidly on witchtok and horrortok

Kit: King of petty/messy tiktok who also posts random videos about crime and occasional blogs

- switches from either sharing no information to borderline oversharing childhood trauma

- shares videos on borderline illegal ways to get back at exfriends/expartners/exfamily members/general enemies 

-- putting fish in people’s vents, subscribing them to magazines under various similar names, sending them glitter in the mail, opening their oreos and taking out the middle of all of them, putting baby locks on their cabinets and in the outlets they can’t see (like under the bed so they can’t get plug in their cellphone charger at night), etc. 

- is always eating some sort of snack, no matter what he is doing

- also posts videos about personal safety like what locks will actually keep people out and what ones are easy to break into

--caused several minor freakouts when he casually mentioned his father taught him how to do it

- occasionally posts videos with an adorable toddler and a young couple who he refers to as “mom and dad” even though they look at MOST five years older than him and he often makes parental abandonment jokes/comments

- no idea where he lives because he speaks in an American accent and talks constantly about American/California life but everything around him looks very British 

- absolutely dives head first into every tiktok drama and will go for the throat for anyone who makes ableist/sexist/racist/homophobic comments without hesitation

-- his drags are legendarily savage and he has caused numerous problematic accounts to just straight up disappear

- duets videos from Livvy, Dru, Mark, Emma and Julian ( with lots of savage drags) but no one knows how he knows them because he is absolutely somewhere in the UK and all of them are based in California/US

-- he also notably NEVER duets Ty

--- the mystery is finally solved when Kit does a livestream and reveals that he met all of them because he was briefly living with them before getting placed with his family, the young couple who actually are his mom and dad 

---- he is very vague about the living situation but everyone assumes he was a foster child 

- he once caused a mass freakout on Tiktok (that actually spilled over to twitter and buzzfeed) when he announced he was going back to the US to visit friends and then posted a video with the caption “when you see your boyfriend in person for the first time in MONTHS but he’s too distracted by some wet 🐱” 

-- the video panned out from Kit’s unamused face to Ty gently rubbing a tiny wet kitten  with a soft cotton towel 

[whatudottu]

Alright so, today I learnt that Arburian Pelarotas have fur (it’s all the white, though it’s short), so aside from that cursed bit of information, I wanna talk about them, their survival and also in part Vulpinic Tortugans.

So, first off all, let’s acknowledge the obvious. Arburia has been destroyed by The Great One, which would’ve killed anything living on its surface, but unlike humans, surely the Pelarota are aware of interplanetary shenanigans, right? Official word is, the universe is huge and there must be some Arburian Pelarota around still, especially enough that even the worshippers aren’t all that shocked to still see one.

Taking an idea from @omnipedia inspired by one of their recent asks, I believe that, when people realised that the big tick was virtually impossible to defeat (despite the fact that Cannonbolt did just that), they had issued a planetary evacuation. Where did they evac to? Their colonies of course!

But wait, colonies? Let me explain.

In doing at least a little bit of research so I don’t pull an Omniverse and retcon anything, it seems as though Arburian Pelarota’s have been referenced as being Tortugans, demonstrated in a very interesting pop-up panel in Game Over. Now you’ve probably already noted that Vulpinic Tortugans share the common name, and and I’m sure you’re aware, these species are related.

What I’m getting at here is, if there is already a distinction made between Vulpinic and Arburian Tortugans, why not have other strains of family on other colonies? Sure, perhaps each of the species themselves has a different secondary name (a new evolutionary generation you might say), but given the information we have been given, I believe the common ancestor of these colonies were Tortugans.

Moreover, the wiki (at the very least) says that these Vulpinic Tortugans are more ‘primative’ than their Arburian, and assumably other colony, relatives. I wonder, does this actually mean primative, or does this specifically mean that their lives aren’t as pristine and civilised as the colonies, not because they aren’t intelligent, but because Vulpin itself is destructive to rules and it’s people need to adapt and change faster than a city ever could.

Alrighty, let’s walk through what happened.

Tortugans, one of the earliest species to engage in not only space travel, but even space colonisation in the known universe (ironically, the reboot supports this with the state of modern Arburian education), engage on an expedition to expand their territories. Whether it’s out of need for materials, desire for more land under their grasp or out of spite and competition (almost the least likely, but who knows what evolutionary behaviours are lost or gained from generation to generation), they spread out across their solar system.

Colonies with planets of similar biospheres as Arburia (or their original planet, if it weren’t Arburia) would’ve had the most success in adapting to the environment and have settled firmly on their respective planet. However, within this same solar system, Vulpin orbits, and the colonists sent to it had it hard. Maybe they had a mentality that prevented them from turning back, maybe something something colony ship crashed or just generally had no materials to safely maintain, but regardless, they remained Vulpin bound and colony unsuccessful.

Overtime perhaps the Tortugans had perhaps attempted to make friendly with the ancestors of the Vulpimancers. Maybe some had tried and failed to domesticate these ancestors because they too fell under the belief that they were merely animals rather than their own sapient beings with their own culture. Maybe some had succeeded, working to benefit the ancestors so that they may help the stranded Tortugans. With two sapient beings working together, the troubles of the wild lessen and the rewards of cooperation become mutually beneficial.

Remember what seemed to be an off comment about Pelarota fur? Yeah, apparently that’s sensory fur and with that, they can see without eyes. Do you know who else sees without eyes? That’s right, Vulpimancers, baby! Despite the implications that Tortugans are... well, turtles, it doesn’t mean that they are reptiles (it could just very well reference their shells). And that pop-up trivia? Yeah, it described that Tortugans were made to spin, as their shells secrete a chemical that reduces friction.

This means that Vulpinic Tortugans would probably not loose the ability to roll and may perhaps increase the effectiveness of their sensory fur. Who knows, maybe convergent evolution occurs and this sect of Torgans may develop specialised sensory organs as a result of their exposure to the Vulpin environment.

Primitive in this perspective may mean that, while reverting back to more animalistic and wild behaviours, the lost colonists of Vulpin have not lost their intelligence. Whether or not they lose the ability of sight due to the pitch black of Vulpin as new sensory organs increase effectiveness or consists of more rods than cones for nocturnal viewing, the planet of Vulpin was exposed to the concept of written language, the knowledge of the universe and the interplanetary voice that Vulpimancer and earlier generations never much cared for. Of course, the Vulpinic Tortugans were the primary users of the written language, but it’s typically etched or even akin to braille so that the blind Vulpimancers can actually read it, if they so choose to.

It had only been fairly recently that Vulpin has become an interplanetary dumping ground, you know, in the scale of the universe and general planetary lifespan and everything, but while the Vulpimancers are forced to change everything that their ancestors had to be evolved to do, the Vulpinic Tortugans attempt to the best of their efforts to reverse the irreversible. The remnants of their ancestors, the broken colony ship and the failed attempts at civilisation, lay amongst the dump, but knowledge can be found to those who are determined enough to uncover it. Vulpin may never be the world that it once was, but with the help of the long since evolved Tortugans, maybe a better, different future can be made.

When did this become a fanfiction? I don’t know but that last sentence had probably had its effect lessened by this comment so, woop. Anyway, I have quite a few thoughts about Vulpimancers, Vulpin and how they both are viewed in not-so-thinly-veiled racism... speciesism? At the very least xenophobia, but you get me. They’re in the Omnitrix for a reason.

[solastia]

The Dragon’s Lair | 6

- Riddle Me This -

Pairing: Dragon Hybrid Namjoon x Reader

Word Count: 5,094

Notes: It feels like so much has happened and this has been going on for so long, right? But this is actually the very beginning of my long and complicated outline lmao. Anyway, it’s time to meet our Sphinx! I wonder who this could be *insert lenny face here*  And if you’re wondering if there will ever be an end to me adding other kpop fandoms: no, no there will not be. We’re catchin em all. 

The winter storms were slowly giving into the spring rains. Of course, this made everything horribly humid and muddy, but at least you weren’t snowed in for days on end anymore. 

As soon as you were able, you scheduled contractors that specialized in hybrid-friendly rooms to help get one prepared, as you fully planned on starting the adoption process for Mark when it was done. You had to make sure it had its own heating and cooling system separate from the rest of the house, insulation for winter, and UV lighting, among other things. Needless to say, it was not going to be a quick process, but Mark was safe at the shelter with Heechul’s near-constant vigilance. 

You’d also begun to clear out the barn that you’ve only been using for storage since your grandparents had adopted out all of their animals. You weren’t quite sure how serious you were yet about getting some animals in there again, but for now, it gave you something to do while construction was going on inside your home. 

You spent a lot of time throwing out or giving away anything unusable, sweeping out stalls, and scrubbing everything down until it shone like it hadn’t in years. Thankfully you still kept in touch with a lot of the people that had worked with your family over the years and it was easy to have fresh supplies brought in, half of which you weren’t even sure you’d ever use, but everyone was happy to hear that the farm was going back to work in a sense. 

Despite all these other changes, your relationship with Namjoon was settled into a comfortable path. Not to say that things were unexciting - the man never failed to find some new way to make your heart flutter - but it felt secure and steady now. Like the two of you being a forever thing was assured. It continually surprised you when you remembered that you actually hadn’t been together for very long. He felt like he’d always been there. 

Most days were simply routine. You’d both wake up at the same time and shower - together more often than not -, have breakfast and then he’d head to the shelter while you’d work in your office. At least three times a week you’d meet up to have lunch together, thankful that both of you had lenient bosses that wouldn’t freak out when an hour-long lunch turned into two or three. Once he was home for the day, the two of you usually just spent your time together. You’d watch a movie or read while you cuddled on the couch, oftentimes ignoring the screen to simply listen to him talk. The way he viewed the world was beautiful and you never grew tired of listening. 

Namjoon had put his foot down and declared date night mandatory. So every single Saturday without fail he’d drag you into town for some event or into the mountains for a hike, always doing his best to create the most romantic day possible. You’d tried to convince him that he didn’t need to do all this, that simply walking with him in the forest near your home was romantic as long as he was there, but he claimed he was still “courting” you so it wasn’t something he could just stop. You assumed that meant it was something to do with his Dragon side and let him do as he pleased. 

Once a week you’d usually tag along and go to the shelter, spending most of your time in the playrooms. According to one of the volunteers, Heechul’s shelter held an average of one hundred and fifty hybrids at any given time, which seemed an astronomical amount if one didn’t know about the secret wings and the fact that you were pretty sure he’d borrowed the whole ‘bigger on the inside’ concept. 

You tried to spend as much time as you could with all the hybrids, but as you were only one person there was only so much you could do. Still, you did have your - as Heechul called them - “cub club.” There have been many arguments in the little group about the name - starting with you wondering why they needed a name at all - since they were composed of all different species, but they gave in after Heechul’s continuous use of it and the fact that it apparently was cute, according to Namjoon. 

Basically, it was a group of hybrids that seemed to have singled you out as a clear favorite and would follow you around the moment you stepped into the building. The unspoken leader of the group was your little Mark, who was always waiting by the front door of the building when you would come in. Usually right next to him was Felix, who seemed to split his time between your cubs and Namjoon’s fan club fairly equally. Some newer friends of yours were a teen tiger hybrid named Seonghwa, and wolf pup siblings Changkyun and Jooheon. There were a few others that came and went, but these were your regular crew. 

Today was one of your shelter days, and you were once again surrounded in the playrooms. Mark was sitting next to you with his raccoon hybrid friend Donghyuck, who was an honorary member of Star’s Cubs at this point with how often he was attached to Mark. They were both coloring a picture of their dream bedroom - a sneaky idea you’d gotten so that you could have Mark’s room ready and decorated when the adoption finalized. 

Felix was having a Namjoon day, so after he’d run up to hug you when you’d first arrived, he’d gone right back to the class that Namjoon was currently teaching. You’d probably see him again at lunch, and then he’d talk a mile a minute about everything Namjoon was teaching him and demand cuddles. 

Changkyun and Jooheon were currently wrestling around on the floor near your feet. They were a complicated pair. They had both been found in the wild several months ago, seemingly without any sort of parents or guardians whatsoever. The boys themselves weren’t sure, but you judged them to be around nine or ten. They were smart kids but had obviously been living on their own for quite some time. They mentioned a “her” a few times, speaking of someone from their memories that would make certain foods or clean them, but they couldn’t remember who she was. Their mother, you assumed. 

Needless to say, they were perhaps not the most well-mannered children, but they were sweet and eager to please. To you, at least. The other volunteers usually tried to interact with them as little as possible after a few too many bites and temper tantrums, often referring to them as feral monsters. You had, of course,  taken that up with Heechul, but the damage had already been done and they were labeled as such by everyone. From the day Jooheon had met you, however, he’d decided you “smelled nice” and would bring you scraps from their dinners (that they apparently hoarded - bad habits left from living in the wild). It had taken Changkyun a little longer to warm up to you, but one day he’d just walked up and pushed Felix out of your lap and took his place. You’d scolded him and made him apologize, but you’d let him stay, deciding it had probably been a very long time since he’d been hugged by anyone besides his brother. They’d gotten better about waiting their turn and learning to ask first, but you still went out of your way to cuddle them as much as they’d let you. 

Seonghwa sat nearby doing his homework. He was...interesting. It was the nicest thing you could think of to say about that whole situation. The thing was, he was a nice kid. Almost seventeen, had been here for a few years. Definitely beautiful, no denying that. You didn’t know too much about his past yet, as you hadn’t wanted to pry and he didn’t volunteer much information. He helped you with the younger kids a lot though, asked you about your work, was genuinely sweet, and fun to talk to when he was just chill. The issue was...you were apparently his “first love.” 

He wasn’t creepy about it or anything. He really was super sweet. He would bring you flowers and treats, help you carry anything heavy, and was just really attentive. Unfortunately, then he’d start walking around you in circles, staring intently with his tail flicking around in the air as he sang to you. He had a sweet voice, but they were of course all highly inappropriate love songs to be singing to an older woman. And according to Namjoon, the circling and singing thing was a tiger courting ritual, so you took great care not to acknowledge it. You’d tried letting him down as gently as possible, but somehow he seemed to just consider it more of a challenge, and you really didn’t want to be mean and be his first heartbreak as well. Namjoon surprisingly - or not since he could be a brat himself - thought it was hilarious. He’d often ask how your tiger cub was doing, laughing when you’d swat him. Of course, he was still a territorial dragon, so he would occasionally go out of his way to kiss you with a bit too much tongue or pinch your butt where everyone could see to get the message of your status across. 

Things at the shelter have been fairly quiet and routine, as far as such a big place could be. That’s why you were awfully surprised when Heechul storms into the playroom looking distraught and frazzled. He brightens slightly when he spots you, rushing over and placing his hands on his hips. 

“You’d be perfect, I don’t know why I didn’t think of that earlier!” 

You frown, thoroughly confused. “Thanks, I think. For what?” 

He clucks and shakes his head. 

“We have an exotic on his way here. He was one of mine that I raised until he was ten, and then he was adopted by this lovely couple. Unfortunately, they were a bit too old even then, but they adored Seokjin so I let him go.” He sighs wearily and flops into a nearby recliner. “They passed away last year and left him everything. He’d been living on his own just fine until someone tried to rob the place and he ended up hurt. Then the police of course had to see his medical records and - surprise! - a hybrid had been running around owning a house and living free for an entire year and they don’t like that. They were going to send him to a state-run hybrid institution, which essentially means death if you’re not a baby or usable on the black market. So, he called me in a panic and I have it all settled with the police that he’s officially one of ours and they don’t have to worry about him anymore. But he’s too used to independence to stuff him back into regular hybrid life, so I was thinking maybe you could foster him? Just like, let him hang out at your place until we figure out some way he can go back to living how he likes?” 

“I mean, I have to check in with Namjoon, but I don’t see why not. What kind of hybrid is he?” 

“Sphinx,” Heechul answered, his deadpan voice at odds with his amused eyes. 

“A what now?” 

“Sphinx. You know, part bird, lion and man. Likes riddles. Has big statues.” 

“Sure, why not,” you sigh. This place really made your brain hurt. 

Heechul chuckled and reached out to pat your shoulder. 

“Thanks. I know it’s a lot to deal with right now, with your new romance and getting ready for Mark, but Seokjin deserves a chance. I think you’ll like him.” 

“You know, it’s really creepy when you do that. At least let me tell you with words what I’m planning about Mark.” 

“I didn’t even need to use magic to see that’s where it was headed. He’s basically already yours,” he scoffs, standing up with a light groan. 

“When is this Seokjin going to be here?” 

“He’s on his way to the shelter now. I figured he could just come here first, meet you and have dinner with everyone, then head home with you guys after. If that’s okay.” 

“Again, just have to check with Joon, but it should be fine. Sphinx and dragons aren’t like, mortal enemies or anything, are they?” 

Heechul grins, “Hardly. In fact, I remember they were actually pretty good friends when they were little. Jin was older and would tolerate Joonie like a big brother. Not sure how well Namjoon remembers him, though.” 

“Alright, I guess. Joon’s class is over in a few minutes. I’ll go talk to him now.” 

“Thanks, Star!” 

You shake your head as he flounces away, wondering when he’d started using that name too. At this point, that was basically your official name. 

“Does that mean you’re going to have to stay home all the time? To take care of a new hybrid?” 

A little sniffle came from your right as you registered the fact that your cubs had just been quietly listening to your conversation with Heechul. Mark’s eyes were beginning to glisten with unshed tears and you quickly snatched the boy up and cuddled him close. 

“Of course not, sweetheart. By the sounds of it, he’s older than both me and Joon, so he’s not going to need much looking after. He basically just needs a place to crash until he figures out what to do.” 

“Oh,” he sniffles again, and you try not to laugh about the fact that it’s not helping, as his nose is starting to water too. “So you’ll still come to see me?” 

“Of course! And as soon as the farm is cleaned up you can come to visit me too. How does that sound?” 

“Really? And Felix? And Hyuckie? And...and…”

“Yes,” you interrupt, knowing the boy will try to name literally everyone he’s ever talked to. “Anyone that wants to visit will be able to. I just wanted to make sure it’s safe first, so no one gets sick.” 

“Okay!” Mark squeezes you clumsily but is quickly back to being a ray of sunshine and crawling off of you to go back to his picture. 

“Seonghwa,” you call, snorting inwardly as the tiger practically jumps to attention, “Watch the kids for a bit, okay? I’m going to see Namjoon.” 

He nods quietly and sets his books down, smiling softly as he watches you leave the room. 

*** 

As you’d expected, Namjoon was more than agreeable to the idea of helping his childhood friend but was understandably concerned over how his dragon instincts would react to another creature in his new den with his new...well, mate. (Although he insists that you aren’t official mates yet. And he blushes and refuses to answer whenever you ask what makes you official).

“It’s just, like, I don’t want to stress him out even more, you know? If he’s already going through all this, then I don’t want to be growling and snapping at him,” Namjoon sighed as he stood with you in the lobby, grasping your hand tightly as you both waited for Seokjin to show up. 

“I know, but Heechul told me that Seokjin is the only one of his kind as well so if anyone were to understand that this is a learning situation and not blame you for it, it would be someone like him, right?” 

Namjoon shrugs, “I guess. From what I remember, Jin hyung was really outspoken too, so I think he’d be sure to let me know if I do something to offend him.” 

“And if all else fails, you can just take him behind the house and piss on him,” you try to hide your grin as you tease him. 

He growls playfully, leaning down to tug your hair. “Watch it. I’ll mark you next.” 

“I thought you already did,” you quirk an eyebrow as you refer to certain activities that had taken place before he’d let you leave your bed that morning. 

“Hey, let's keep the rating down in my presence, please,” Heechul sighs wearily from the other side of you. 

The two of you fight valiantly to keep your giggles under control, only able to stop fully once a taxi pulls up in front of the building and nerves once again take over. 

The man that steps out takes even your breath away - quite a feat considering how whipped you were for your own boyfriend. He’s tall, nearly as tall as Namjoon, and has a regal bearing. He has a face that many would pay millions for, with full lips and wide expressive eyes. His hair and lion ears were the same mahogany brown shade, as was the fluffy tip of his long tail. It seemed he had no trouble showing off his lion side. You weren’t sure if that’s all there was to his transformation though, considering he was a Sphinx, not just a lion. 

He turned to pay the driver, who was actually smiling and laughing like the two of them were old friends. Seokjin reached out and shook the man’s hand heartily and shoved what was apparently too much money towards him if the way the man tried to argue about it was any indication. You supposed this meant Seokjin was the friendly sort, which boded well. 

You were a little confused by the fact that the hybrid was only carrying a single suitcase. Perhaps he had left the rest behind to be picked up later? From what Heechul had told you, the hybrid had grown up in a fairly wealthy household, spoiled and doted on. You would think he would be walking in here with twenty name brand suitcases, and yet here he was with only a small rolling suitcase meant for a child with Mario on it. Something about that felt wrong. 

The hybrid seemed fine, however, breezing through the front door with a wide smile like all was right in the world. He stopped right in front of Heechul and stared at him a moment, cocking his head. 

“You haven’t changed a bit, hyung. You don’t have a single new wrinkle. Are you trying to compete with me?” 

Heechul huffs and reaches out to hug the man. Seokjin laughs quietly, pulling Heechul into a bear hug so fierce Heechul squeaks a little. He releases him and pats him on the shoulder before he turns to Namjoon. 

“Don’t tell me you’re little Joon bug? You can’t be anyone else, with those dimples. I used to swear I could use them as cereal bowls if we ever ran out.” 

Namjoon shyly looks down and kicks his foot, but he’s smiling. “Hi, Seokjin-ssi. It’s nice to see you again.” 

The hybrid waves his hand carelessly, “Just call me hyung, Namjoon. Or even just Jin.  We don’t need honorifics with our kind.” 

Namjoon nods and pulls you closer, drawing the Sphinx’s attention. His thick brow raises your way as his smile quirks mischievously. 

“And this must be Miss Star, the one I’ve been hearing so much about,” he raises up his hand like he’s going to shake yours, but the moment you grasp it he holds on tightly. His face suddenly settles into serious lines as he looks down into your eyes. 

“Answer me this. As small as your thumb, I am light in the air. You may hear me before you see me, but trust that I’m here.” 

You hadn’t been prepared for this, for some reason. Duh, Sphinx’s whole thing was about riddles. 

You bite your lip and give it some thought for a moment. “A hummingbird?” 

His smile brightens back up and he releases your hand before he slaps Namjoon’s back. 

“Hey, she’s smart. You got a good one” 

“Yeah…” Namjoon answers dreamily, staring down at you with a dopey grin. You blush and grab his hand. 

Jin’s arm was back to flailing around again, and you were wondering if he was in control of his limbs or if it was the other way around. 

“Hey, listen, want to hear a joke about construction?” he asks. You’re not sure if he really expects an answer, but you squeak out a somewhat genuine sounding “Sure,” anyway. 

“I'm still working on it,” he answers, before cackling loudly, his laughter practically shaking the glass windows as he slaps his leg in amusement. 

You decide, if nothing else, he seems easy to keep entertained. 

You politely laugh and wait for him to finish before taking the chance to steer the conversation in another direction. 

“Are you hungry? We thought we’d stay and have dinner here before we went home. Only if you’re comfortable with that, though.” 

“I’m famished,” Jin answered, slapping his flat and obviously in-shape stomach like it was the opposite. “I wouldn’t mind sticking around. Kyungsoo still the cook here?” 

“Yup. And Wendy is making dessert,” Heechul tells him as he grabs the little suitcase. 

“Sounds great.” 

It hadn’t escaped your notice that no one brought up his past owners or any difficult subjects. You sigh quietly as you walk behind everyone as they went to the dining room, knowing that it was probably going to be all up to you. 

***

Dinner had gone as it usually did, with only the occasional fights to break up between over-enthusiastic kids. You used the time to observe Seokjin, trying to see what you could pick up about him in a group setting like this. He was polite and charming, yes, but very quick to steer the conversation away from himself. You supposed he wasn’t ready to talk about his problems, which was fine. You had time. 

He was also an enthusiastic eater and at one point seemed to have an almost mini-competition going on with the elephant hybrid over who could eat the most. You’d decided to break it up before anyone found out since the elephant was only seven and didn’t need to compete with a grown man. 

Seokjin and Namjoon seemed to get on perfectly well, thank goodness. Jin treated him like a little brother - making sure his bowl was full, teasing him every time he stared at you, telling him at least five jokes about giants. 

The man didn’t seem to have a shred of animosity in him at all, which would normally be a good thing. If one didn’t take into account what had happened to him. He should be upset and crying, or at least mad. Irritated. But he seemed more like he was just visiting some dear old friends, with nothing to fret about. That worried you more than anything because the poor man was probably just really good at covering it up then, and you hoped you’d be able to help him. Or that he’d even let you. 

These thoughts plagued you the whole way home, as you occasionally peeked into the rear view mirror to see Jin sitting quietly with his tiny suitcase that you still hadn’t been able to bring yourself to ask about. 

At least he was here with the two of you, somewhere he could be safe and have people looking out for him. That was the best you could do for now. 

After you show him to a spare bedroom, he thanks you quietly, smiling with his lips but not his eyes. The door closes and you sigh, retreating to your own room to wrap yourself in Namjoon’s arms. It haunts you that something like this could happen to him if anything were to happen to you. That he would get sent back to the shelter with nothing, despite the fact that you wanted to give him the entire world. You’ll have to ask Heechul what you can do to make sure he’s safe. 

***

When you wake up the next morning, it’s to the smell of meat cooking. Normally, this would be a dream come true. Unfortunately, you’ve been living with Namjoon for far too long and your mind now associated unsupervised cooking with near-death experiences, so instead your first reaction is terror. 

You jump out of bed, unmindful of your state of near-undress, and run to the kitchen. Your ears are hyper tuned to every sound, waiting for bellows of pain, but so far you simply hear the slap of your bare feet against wood and sizzling from a pan. 

You round the corner and grab the wall, catching your breath as you stare into the kitchen. Namjoon is sitting at the bar eating a heaping plateful of scrambled eggs and cheese, giggling as Seokjin preforms some a dirty gesture involving sausages and eggs. The Sphinx is standing over the stove with your bright pink apron, confidently cooking away, and both men are fine. You breathe a sigh of relief, slumping slightly as the tension leaves your body. Both men turn at the sound, smiling in greeting. 

“Morning, baby. Jin’s making breakfast. He’s a good cook!” 

“I see that. Morning, everyone,” you reply, walking in and trying not to let on how nervous you’d been. You peck Namjoon’s cheek and peek over the bar at the stove. 

Jin meets your eye and smiles mischievously like he knows what you were concerned about. 

“And here is one for you, madame,” he says with a flourish, setting a plate in front of you piled high with food and even garnished with a couple of tiny flowers from the garden. 

“Wow,” you blurt, honestly astounded by his skill. Everything looked perfect and you couldn’t wait to dig in. 

“What’s with that look?” He says loudly, quirking an eyebrow at you. “You just fell for me, didn’t you? Ah, I’m too charming.” 

You laugh and take a bite, nervously peeking at Namjoon to see if he’d taken the joke too seriously. Seokjin must have magic in his food because you doubted the dragon had even heard since he was too busy shoveling food in his mouth like you’d been starving him for months. 

“Slow down,” you cluck and tap his shoulder. He turns and grins at you with a disgustingly full mouth.

“Isth good,” he mumbles, and you laugh despite your disgust. 

“I can see that.” 

You swirl your fork around as you watch Jin settle in with his own plate, letting him get a few bites in before you strike. 

“So, Joonie and I both took the day off to help you get settled in. We figured you might need to do some shopping or something. I know the bedroom is pretty bare since we were focusing on another room right now.” 

Jin glances up and for a moment his gaze is troubling. You’d seen the brief flash of melancholy before he’d covered it up with a charming smile. 

“I could use a few things to tide me over until I’m out of your hair, I suppose. I do have my own money, but most places around here won’t let you shop without a license.” 

“That was nice of them to leave you money, They must have been good owners.” 

His eyes cloud over and he glances away from you, staring at one of the windows. 

“They were amazing parents. But the money that they left for me got taken away. I believe everything went to my Mom’s cousin - someone she didn’t even really know.”

“I thought you said you had money?” 

“I...uhh...had some stashed away. My dad never liked banks - didn’t trust them. He always had a rule that whenever you used your card, you should take out some cash and squirrel it away just in case. So we’d always take a little out and stash it in this fake book. From the outside it looks like Crime And Punishment, and who reads that willingly?” he snorts, peeking over at Namjoon. “Besides this kid, obviously.” 

Namjoon just shrugs, unbothered with the truth. 

“But...Jin hyung, you mean they kept everything?” 

The Sphinx sighs wearily and drops his fork, reaching up to rub his forehead. 

“Everything. The cousin’s lawyer grabbed my old suitcase from storage and told me I could keep anything I could fit in there as long as he approved of it. I got some clothes, my mom’s recipe book, my dad’s favorite fishing lures, and the stash of cash because he thought it was just another book,” Jin shrugs like he’s just telling a story, never mind that the sound of your heart breaking was probably audible at this point. 

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” you murmur, struggling to stay calm for his sake. 

He shrugs. “No big. I’m a hybrid. Should have expected it.” 

“No, you should not have. People treat actual animals better than they do hybrids and it’s disgusting. I’m so very sorry. I know nothing I say can erase what’s been done to you. Just know that you are safe here and welcome in my home for as long as you like.” 

Jin opens his mouth to say something but snaps it shut again like he can’t figure out what to say. Namjoon grins proudly at you and slaps Jin’s shoulder. 

“Told you, hyung. She’s the best. And she’s right. You are welcome here and I can assure you that I feel no urge to fry you to a crisp.” 

“I...was not aware that was a potential issue. Thanks for not ruining my beautiful face, I guess,” Seokjin says, obviously done with the serious talk and choosing to fall back into humor. 

“And with that settled, I should probably go put on some pants. Thanks for the breakfast! We’ll meet up and go shopping in an hour, yeah?” 

You grin at them both and leave the room, the smile dropping the moment you were sure they couldn’t see. 

Poor Seokjin. 

He had grown up loved and cared for by those people, and just because he was a hybrid he’d lost everything. The fact that this could easily be Namjoon’s story if you were to kick it tomorrow didn’t sit well with you, either. You needed to figure something out that could stop this from happening. Or at least figure out somewhere hybrids could go besides back into shelters. It seems like an impossible task, but one that needs doing, obviously. 

As laughter filters towards you from the kitchen, you smile. One thing is for sure, your first task is going to be convincing Seokjin that he’s already home. 

[thronesofshadows]

Salt Bridges (pt. 1) || Nicole & Evelyn

TIMING: A couple weeks before Christmas LOCATION: Al’s Diner PARTIES: @nicsalazar​ and @thronesofshadows SUMMARY: Nicole and Evelyn go out for dinner and find out they might have a little more in common than they previously realized.

Seated in the most secluded spot she could find, Nicole’s fingers picked at the extra hair tie on her wrist, looking up every time the door opened and the wrong person walked inside the diner. She was never early to any kind of appointments. Being early meant second guessing everything she thought she  knew. Questioning whether she had made it to the right place, on the right day or at the right time. Worrying about plans getting cancelled and not getting the corresponding text. Going back to recheck the information multiple times, though she had done it a hundred times before. She was always five minutes late to everything, perfectly calculated, to avoid that. She had to be early for this one, however. Against her better judgement she had invited Evelyn to a diner. A very loud one, it seemed. She couldn’t shake the feeling that food had been a bad idea. The worst kind of activity to do with someone she had only met once. The pauses, awkward silences, the sounds, the mess. Terrible, just terrible. She breathed out, forcing herself to not go there. Pointless to dwell on it when she was already sitting there, fifteen minutes earlier than they had agreed on, going over the menu for the tenth time. Besides, Evelyn had to be the nicest person she had met so far, she probably wouldn’t care. She wanted to spend time with her, right? No? She had never been to Al’s diner before, but she quickly understood the popularity. The smell was driving her insane. When Evelyn walked through the door, her frown finally relaxed. She sighed and offered a shy smile, keeping her gaze on the woman until she spotted her. She averted her eyes down to the menu as she approached.  

Nicole was unlike anyone Evelyn had ever met. She didn’t usually eat, and Al’s was certainly not her usual sort of place, but if that was where Nicole felt most at home, she would agree. Though it seemed a bit contrary to what she knew about Nicole. She hardly minded. She could easily get a salad here and pick at it, let Nicole talk about whatever she needed to - or wanted to. She’d arrived a couple minutes early. The buzzing of the diner would have been overwhelming if she concentrated too much on it, and she was more than a bit puzzled about why Nicole had chosen such a place. Perhaps she had a certain craving for a burger. Regardless, Evelyn adjusted the skirt of her dress and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her head before she pushed the door open. Nicole was already there, she realized, gaze focusing in on the other woman. She made her way over to the booth, one in a far back corner that wasn’t right in the middle of everything. Okay, that made more sense given what she knew about Nicole. “Apologies for keeping you waiting.” Evelyn raised an eyebrow, nodding at the menu. “What looks good?”

She shook her head dismissively, eyes darting to the clock behind the register when Evelyn apologized. “Hey...uh, think you’re right on time, I just— ” she trailed off, unsure where she was going with that sentence. She just needed some extra preparation. Her fingers drummed on the menu, waiting for Evelyn to get comfortable in her seat. Fortunately for Nicole, the table provided enough space between them. She would’ve hated having to worry over the woman stepping into her personal space for the entire evening. Her biggest concern was the eye contact, almost impossible to avoid when Evelyn was sitting in front of her. Out in a diner, really? Bad idea. Terrible idea. Should’ve asked her for a walk instead. She cleared her throat to keep those thoughts at bay, giving the other woman a strained smile. “What looks...good?”, the repetition only served to buy herself more time to think. She lifted her eyebrows, seemingly forgetting everything she had read a minute ago. “I’ve...never been here before—first time” she couldn't recall who had recommended the diner to her, but they had clearly made a lasting impression for her to come up with it on the spot. By the smell of it, the burgers definitely won. And the fries. The chicken too. She couldn’t hate the waffles either, despite the milk. “Gonna take a wild guess here...but I think the burgers are kinda their thing” she let out a chuckle and pointed at a particular picture hanging on the wall, displaying a monstrous looking burger. “Would you eat that one?”

“I am often early, but it pleases me to see that you are, too.” Evelyn couldn’t help but smile again. There was something about being around Nicole that made her feel calm and at peace with herself. Evelyn often considered herself a fairly calm person, but there were people, whether she wished to admit it or not, who brought about a feeling of even greater calm, and Nicole already seemed to be one of those people. Even if she was human, she was a delightful partner in conversation, even if Evelyn could tell that this didn’t always come so easily for her. Furthermore, despite the fact that it had taken a good amount of persuasion, she was willing to let Evelyn dote on her and purchase things for her, which was always a plus in Evelyn’s book. “I cannot say that I am an expert on any of this,” she flipped through the menu, glossy painted nails tapping against the plastic. “Well, it is a popular place in town, or so the rumors say - it is often filled up from what I can tell.” She crossed her legs. “Well, I do think that is how diners go. I - well, no, not unless it is vegetarian, but I fully endorse you trying it. After all, is there not the cliché of when in Rome - and I am well-aware that we are not in Rome, and that I explain my jokes too much but I say go for it. I think I may get a salad.”

“About that…” her laugh was strained and nervous, but felt the need to explain. “I just— had to make sure I got a booth I wouldn’t...” pick up too many things. “Get overwhelmed by—  Sorry to disappoint but, I’m not— I’m not usually...this punctual” it felt strange being honest about it, and though her eyes darted everywhere in the room to avoid looking at Evelyn, she preferred it. Nicole was sure the other woman didn’t need the explanation, but seemed to be the way things were meant to flow between them. She glanced down at the menu again, but her brain was fixed on Evelyn’s tapping, distracting her. Most of the time she was capable of tuning out things like that, anxious thoughts occupying her brain enough to ignore sensory stimuli. Being so out of her comfort zone appeared to be affecting her in different ways. She tried her best not to pay close attention to Evelyn. Felt like intruding. The words pulled her back to focus. She assumed vegetarian options existed, but Al’s wouldn’t be the place to get them. “No, it’s...salad might be the better option”. Could she eat that burger? Yes, she was certainly capable of finishing that. Wouldn’t be pretty at all, however. She had a healthy appetite, and blamed it on being part-animal. “The…” she glanced at her with narrowed eyes, repeating some words under her breath. Cliché of Rome? What was she talking about? Sounded familiar, but she couldn’t recall what the saying meant. “I— I don’t…” Her smile was sheepish, but she was saved by the waiter approaching to take their order. She nodded to Evelyn. “I think she’s...her mind’s made up.”

“Of course. Do not worry, even if you are only punctual this time, that is still more than enough.” Evelyn grinned. “Remember, this is all about whatever works best as a distraction for you, and if this is working, then I shall certainly not fault you for that.” Had she been a more tactile person, and had she assumed Nicole was, too, Evelyn might have reached out to offer a hand to the other woman, but things being what they were, she instead held back. Not yet, and maybe not ever, but she enjoyed Nicole’s company regardless of anything else, and for now, that was what mattered most of all. “Salads are usually nice, and even if it is not of the highest quality, I did not come here for the food, solely.” Especially because I do not actually need human food in order to survive, though it was not as though she could tell that to Nicole. Not now, at least - perhaps, if they continued to get along as well as they had thus far, she would be able to be more open, but not yet. “Sorry, it is a cliché. When you are somewhere, you might as well do what is customary. Or something to that degree.” She shrugged, glancing up at the waiter. “I have. I would love a Greek salad and just water to drink.” She flipped her menu shut and let Nicole order, watching as the waiter walked away before focusing back on the other woman. “So, how is this for a distraction so far?”

“Right, yeah—“ Nicole let out a nervous breath, a thankful half-smile reached her lips. It was slightly overwhelming that Evelyn always knew the right thing to say. Almost too understanding. She wondered if that had come with all the training she experienced as a kid. A fleeting, less logical thought followed. Could she—? Maybe she was capable of reading minds. Crazy, sure. She had seen weirder things in her life, though. Shaking her head, she frowned at the absurdity. People just happened to be good sometimes, she reminded herself. “Yeah—- wouldn’t pay for a restaurant salad, really…” Maybe being an ex model had something to do with her concern for healthy eating, but if Evelyn wanted salad, then she’d pay for it. “Good thing you aren’t though… cause this one’s on me, okay?” quirking an eyebrow, she raised a finger at her. She had to remind her, just in case. Yes, she had invited Evelyn for more than food. It was strange. When they talked online, she knew exactly why she had needed her company. But now, everything seemed incredibly hazy. Something about...bones and pens? Why would she need to talk to Evelyn about that? She watched in silence as the woman placed her order, her pulse racing at the thought of going next. She asked for a beer first. That would put her into a chattier mood. Then she tripped over her words to order a chicken sandwich, after she was assured it came with a portion of fries. Would she eat that? She wasn’t sure, but at least the hard part was done. “I— uh...never been more distracted in my life” it was the truth, at least. Whether it was a good thing or not it remained to be seen. How long could the food take to be ready, 15-20 minutes? That was a lot of time to fill with conversation. She could get through it. “Thank you, by the way—for coming,” she lifted her eyebrows as she met the other woman’s gaze, surprised by her own voice. “Gonna owe you...a couple guitar shows.”    

Everything with Nicole felt strange and new, even if the overall pattern of their conversation was hardly anything abnormal. Evelyn shrugged. “Some are good, maybe this will be one of those cases.” Not that she entirely minded either way. Human food was human food in the end, and though she certainly preferred that which tasted better, it never served to nourish her in the way that nightmares did. “Okay. Only because you did permit me to purchase that guitar for you and because I find myself rather fond of your company.” Evelyn raised an eyebrow. She enjoyed the time she had spent with Nicole so far as well as the conversations that they had, and so she saw no reason to do anything other than agree to spend more time with the other woman. “It is okay. Sometimes we find ourselves more keen to be distracted than others, and this is no fault of yours. There was a time a bit ago when I found myself unable to sleep for a long while and I know my focus was less than ideal.” She offered a shrug at the other woman’s remark. “Of course. I find your company enjoyable, and I have been looking forward to spending more time with you ever since we have met.”

Nicole nodded, despite being suspicious of the diner’s ability to deliver a decent salad. Though if Evelyn wanted to order something else after, she wouldn’t have a problem with that. “Good” her hand tapped the table with finality, as if her words settled their agreement. Her eyes stayed fixed on the table, struggling to shake the awkwardness off. She didn’t understand why Evelyn liked her company. A woman like her was likely to know people far more interesting than her. Better conversationalists too. But she was trying not to second guess herself too much. Unable to find the right words, she moved onto the next topic. “Was that— were you under stress or…?” She understood the connection between lack of sleep and lack of focus, but it was often triggered by something. “Never been too good at sleeping” her gaze lifted slightly at the admission, focusing on Evelyn’s shoulder. Her leg bounced under the table. For the longest time, she was haunted by the thought of going to bed and not waking up again, her body transforming in her sleep. “Guess... I was bound to end up with issues” it would’ve been easier to see a specialist, she reminded herself, though that would imply she was willing to get better. Her nerves caused her to laugh again, as Evelyn repeated she was good company. She was genuinely puzzled as to why. What had she offered that one time that seemed to go over well with Evelyn? Maybe she could keep doing that, with other people. Did people give each other feedback like that? Deep down she knew there was no magic formula. Maybe Evelyn was just trying to be nice. Embarrassed, heat rose to her cheek. “That’s...yeah— I think I...I do good with...bossy people. Not that— you’re...” she noticed the waiter approach, and she breathed out in relief “it’s not...not a bad thing”.

Evelyn sighed for a small moment, though it was evident that it was not out of frustration but merely out of relief in the comfort and ease that Nicole’s company provided. “Of course.” She watched Nicole’s fingers drumming against the table. “In a manner of speaking.” She didn’t wish to go into it with too much detail; didn’t want to risk explaining seeing giant eyes - Nicole didn’t deserve having to deal with that. “Luckily I was able to work through it, and that is all behind me.” Other things weren’t, other odd sleep behaviors weighed heavily on her mind - because she wasn’t supposed to have faults with her sleep, if anything she was supposed to be the one in control, particularly the negative ones that had seemingly overrun the town. “Oh? That is the case with a number of people. Even when you were a child?” She looked over to Nicole, though there was not a speck of judgement present on her face.  “Well, I do not think this guarantees issues. Sleep is incredibly complex, you should not fault yourself for anything.” She bit her lip to hold back a laugh at Nicole’s next comment. “You can call my bossy. I am well-aware I can be, though I think that the tutors I had as a child preferred strong-willed.” She fought away the urge to roll her eyes. Evelyn watched the waiter come back over, dropping off their drinks and a few tabletop condiments - including salt. Evelyn grabbed her drink quickly. Salt wasn’t even a proper condiment, though she supposed many people liked to have it on top of their dishes. “Well, so far so good, I think.” She nodded. “How are you finding it?”

“I’m glad it’s in the past,” she nodded. The fact that Evelyn had managed to work through her sleeping issues gave Nicole some sort of comfort. Maybe it would pass, maybe she just had to be patient. “Light sleeper” she raised her hand, as if she was taking the blame on something. “Noises and...I’m—sensitive to it,” she shrugged, debating whether to continue or not. “It got worse after…” no, she should’ve stopped. Being a light sleeper was one thing, nightmares were something entirely different. “Bad stuff happened” the tight smile she gave after her words felt odd, but she didn’t Evelyn to feel uncomfortable. She was used to bad sleep anyway. Wasn’t so bad. “Strong-willed, huh?” she repeated, her eyebrows rising as she broke into a smile. “Yeah, you terrorized those tutors, I bet” she pressed her lips together, trying to suppress her grin. Although she felt for the adults in charge, she found the thought of a spoiled little girl bossing tutors around very entertaining. Why did a kid need so much tutoring anyway? She should’ve been playing free outside. Regardless, bossy was good in her mind. She needed bossy in her life. She was never inclined to take the lead on anything.  Someone willing to push a little was a change she welcomed. She leaned back in her seat, letting the waiter place the condiments and the drinks. She shook her head when he offered to pour it in a glass. The bottle was fine. Without even realizing, her hand ghosted over the table before reaching for the salt shaker. Instinctively, she slid it to the end of the table, towards Evelyn. Then she rearranged the rest of the containers. She often had salt in her meals, she even favored that type of food, but she didn’t want to risk the chance of an accident in public. Her distraction meant she had lost track of their conversation. She looked up at the question, eyes widening. “How am I— finding what? oh...” she glanced down at the beer in her hand. She lifted it, sending Evelyn a questioning look.

“I am as well, as the case may be.” Evelyn looked over at Nicole with a kind expression. She didn’t wish to lie to someone who may well have been human, but explaining that her sleep expertise went beyond just being a childhood (and still) bookworm with too much time on her hands. Anything beyond that was too much, she knew that - even though she also knew that keeping the truth of what she was hidden away could only serve to cause trouble. She chose not to focus on that right now, and instead focused onto the woman across from her. She found that Nicole was someone incredibly grounding to be around, and she didn’t know why. Instead of getting all done up about it, she’d decided to ignore that and focus on how pleasant it felt. Even though the idea of having friends was still a relatively foreign and odd concept to Evelyn, she didn’t think to question it with a select few people - not Nicole, and certainly not Miriam - to a degree. Others too - Deirdre for one, even Lydia, before everything (and she chose to not think about all the what ifs) - things she never would have expected years ago when she’d been shut into her home, accompanied only by her nannies, tutors, and housekeepers. “You are permitted to be sensitive to noises - not that, well, obviously I am unable to control that - not that I would, if I could, I think people controlling whatever it is someone is dealing with is unjust, but I am sorry that you have that. It is no bad thing, we are all different.” Her gaze softened again. “Bad things? You do not have to expand, but should you wish to, I am able to listen. I am even quite alright at it, most times.” She sucked on her lip for a moment. “I think they used that in lieu of any number of other words they might have preferred to use were my father not their main source of income.” She scrunched up her face. She watched Nicole play with - rearrange - the salt and felt her shoulders tense up just slightly as she pushed it over towards her. Evelyn took it, careful not to touch any of it too much, and pushed it with the tip of one nail away from them, back to where the waiter had first placed it down. “Yes, that.” She nodded. “Though it may not be the quality that you could have if you came to my bar, I hope it suffices.”

Nicole’s eyebrows rose again, surprised to see the woman string a sentence with less eloquence than usual. Rambling didn’t seem to be her thing, but she had definitely over explained something that seemed obvious. Her eyes narrowed, finally looking at her face. “I know,” she said simply with a subtle smile, her voice small but calm. Had she been braver, she would’ve asked if she had issues with control. But she didn’t want to risk upsetting her if that was the case. Her eyes darted outside, a break she needed from the current conversation. When Evelyn offered an ear, she almost smiled. Her kindness wasn’t surprising. Or the way Nicole’s eyes began to tear up. She got rid of them, blinking quickly. God that was embarrassing. For once, the idea of sharing part of her story wasn’t terrifying. Time. It was the one thing she needed. The one thing stopping her from speaking to her. It seemed unquestionable that with time, Evelyn would be able to coax the truth out of her.

“I know” even smaller the second time. Nicole shook her head. “We all got baggage, no?” she said instead. She doubted anyone living in a town like White Crest was completely normal. The way she spoke about her tutoring sounded a lot less amusing than what she had pictured first. She frowned. “Was that… did you rebel against them? Or just— you being a kid”. With an apprehensive look, she noticed the way Evelyn moved the salt again. Maybe she was very particular about condiment placement? It was a little too close to the edge for her liking, though. If anyone were to run and— No. She was too paranoid, what were the chances of that even happening? She let the saltshaker where it was. They would be fine. Moving it again would look odd. “I’ve had a lot worse, trust me” the taste had never mattered much to her. Not when it used to be about getting drunk above everything. Tilting the bottle, she took a gulp. Yes, not great, she confirmed with a grimace. “I think I’d like some of that quality alcohol, though” She’d have to save for that. “How’s your...water? Sure it’s fancier at your place too”.

Nicole’s response remained simple - which was to be expected, it was how she was, Evelyn had learned. Though not for any sort of negative reason, nor any lessening respect. She did respect and care for Nicole a great deal, regardless of whether or not that was something typical of her. “I know - and yes, I suppose that we do. Though it is all different, and I sometimes do not see any point in focusing on such things.” She figured that she could leave things be for now, but if they talked again, she might poke a bit more - as she was rather curious but she knew that Nicole was someone who seemed to be a bit shy, at least when compared to Evelyn. She liked her too, and so she didn’t want to stress her out, at least not more than she already did. It was one thing to persuade Nicole to permit her to purchase a guitar, but this was something else entirely. “No, not especially, I simply did my own thing sometimes and so I think mostly being a child, but I also do not know quite what is typical for children, given that I grew up mostly on my own.” She took another sip of her water. She watched Nicole eye the salt and for a moment she wanted to ask her if she, too, was a mara. She didn’t, because maybe she wasn’t and was just curious about Evelyn’s constant movements. “Well that is good. You should come by sometime, and perhaps I will find nice beer and we can enjoy that.” She grinned. “I can make exceptions for those whose company I enjoy. Especially if it is at my place and not my bar, though I do not feel bad about giving you a more reasonable price than I do for most of my clients.” She grinned. “It is fancier, but I have always loved the fancier things in life.”

A half grin reached Nicole’s lips. She had to admire Evelyn’s uncomplicated mindset. She would’ve achieved a lot more had she moved on from all her traumas, she mused. “Not much of a dweller?” She wanted to make sure she was understanding her words right. She took another swig of her beer. “What’s your secret? Cause I’ve...I’ve tried telling myself— shit’s in the past and all that...” she frowned, unsure whether she wanted to go down that road or not. “Can’t get it through my skull, though” she shook her head, her fingers tracing the bottle before drinking again. She probably should’ve waited until the food had arrived, but the anxiety wanted her to keep her hands busy. Her expression turned serious as Evelyn expanded more on her childhood. “Typical children stuff, like...just— not behaving the way adults want cause...cause— they’re not wired that way yet. That’s pretty typical, I think” there was a lot of wrong in the way kids were treated, but she wasn’t sure how to put her thought into words. “As an older sister— I’m allowed to say, kids are really annoying, though” she quipped to lighten the mood, but didn’t feel right. Joking rarely did. “Don’t think there was anything wrong with you, trust me” she added calmly, offering a sympathetic smile. She entertained herself holding the beer by its neck and swinging it idly, an inch over the table. “Now that I’m...officially invited, yes. Booze is one way to lure me in” tasting actual decent alcohol did sound like something she’d enjoy. “Uh, isn’t— the bar your place?” She let out a chuckle, eyebrows furrowed. “C’mon, all water’s the same!” she knew it wasn’t true, but she was curious about what counted as fancy water. Looking past Evelyn’s shoulder, the waiter came into view. She wondered if the plates he was carrying belonged to them.  

“Not if it is something I wish to not dwell upon, yes.” Evelyn paused for a moment. “I mean - yes, you are correct. If something is unsavory, I do not wish to put my focus into it. I see little reason to.” Which she knew made her seem overly detached sometimes, but that was better than letting emotions overwhelm her completely. “Years of practice?” She shrugged. “I do not know, I think being alone much of my childhood allowed me to be alone with my thoughts, and I have never thought that getting too done up does anyone any good.” She took another sip of her water - she didn’t know why she kept telling Nicole so many things, but she also found that she didn’t always mind. “I guess so. It may be typical, but I have no proper experience with children outside of reading about them - I can imagine you might find them annoying.” She pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “I do trust you, though I do not know. That remains to be seen, for some.” She gave an off-handed shrug. “Yes, please come, and I have found that alcohol is the way to get many people interested. I can promise my selection is some of the best you’ll find here.” She giggled, the sound causing her to blink a few times extra. Perhaps there was something particularly special about Nicole. “You may say that, but there is a difference, sometimes.” She turned to see what Nicole was looking at, the waiter making their way over with the plates of food, and Evelyn watched as they placed them on the table, though as they turned to go, their elbow knocked against the salt, causing it to fall onto the ground and break, salt spreading out in front of their booth. Shoot. The waiter hadn’t noticed and before Evelyn could call out they’d disappeared back into the kitchen. Evelyn eyed the salt warily, scooting further away from it. “What a mess, right?” She bit her lip. “I - I have - I am unsure if I am able to clean this up.”

Nicole managed to conceal her disappointment when Evelyn mentioned the years of practice. If it were up to her, she’d want to be done dwelling right in that moment. It was up to her, she reminded herself. Getting out of her head seemed to be a theme in her life lately. Like Evelyn, she had been alone with her own thoughts for too long, but it had the opposite effect. She let out a tired sigh at that, but didn’t say anything. From the first time they had met, it was obvious there was more to Evelyn than what she presented. The things she said always left her more curious. Confused too. She was about to ask what remained to be seen according to her, but it was all interrupted by the waiter bringing their plates. She was surprised at how quick the food had come. The conversation hadn’t been torture at all. At her alcohol comment, she raised an eyebrow. “Alright, I’m sure that’s not biased at all”. She smiled, eyeing her salad with amusement.Before she could say a word, things went awry.

She tried to reach for the saltshaker, fingertips barely missing the container. Despite her quick reflexes, it slipped from her fingers all the same, shattering on the floor. Nicole winced at the sound, her heart rate jumping immediately. She could sense the heads turning in their direction. “Fu—Shit!” shit, shit, shit. That’s why she had moved it in the first place. Shifting slightly, she checked under the table if the salt had extended to their shoes. Despite the initial scare, there was a minor relief when she saw her boots were clean. Had it fallen differently, she would’ve had to give Evelyn an extremely awkward explanation as to why she couldn’t move or get up. If only her chest could get the message that there was no imminent danger, though. “It’s— it’s fine. I’m...I’m sure we can get the—” she trailed off, eyes fixed on the salt. She tried to think for a moment, but everything around her was distracting her. Was it her own scared heart racing in her ears, or— she glanced at Evelyn then, noticing her shying away. She frowned. Was she worried about the mess? It was bad sure, but they’d get someone to clean, no? Her own worries slipped to the back of her mind, concerned eyes focusing on the woman. Maybe, like her, noises freaked Evelyn out too. “What’s… are you— did the sound freak you out?” It’s okay, it’s just—” she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. It wasn’t just salt. Not to her, at least. But why would Evelyn share the same worries? “You’re unsure if...what?”

Evelyn couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at Nicole’s comment, finding herself glad that Nicole was smiling - whether or not it was entirely due to her remark or something else she wasn’t entirely sure, but she did know that she liked when Nicole was happy - which was odd, given that they hardly knew one another but it was also an unavoidable fact. Before they could say anything more, the salt had broken and she looked curiously at Nicole, regarding her reaction with a certain level of confusion. Maybe she was just very into things being clean and orderly, which this was distinctly… not. Nicole was panicking though - although Evelyn couldn’t directly sense it, she knew enough about how people behaved when they panicked that she could understand what was going on. “A bit?” Evelyn pursed her lips. “I mean, I like music for ballet to be loud sometimes, but suddenly…” her voice trailed off. “A bit startling. I suppose.” Nicole was still asking her things and she knew that she needed to come up with a further explanation, and soon. “If I can clean this up.” She repeated. “I mean, I am plenty able to clean just … not this. I have sensitive skin and it sometimes acts up.” Even she knew that that sounded ridiculous. “Could you walk over and get the waiter, maybe?”

Nicole was hardly an expert on human emotions, but for a second their eyes met she believed her own fear was mirrored in Evelyn’s eyes. It made everything much more confusing. What were the odds of— no, she put that thought to rest when the woman confirmed she had been scared by the sound, that made sense. Glass breaking was never nice to hear. “It’s fine...it’s okay” she repeated, shaking her head. Evelyn didn’t look like something who did extreme emotions. Even startled, she seemed to try and keep it together. On the edge of the table, her hand opened and closed a few times while she hesitated over reaching out to comfort her or not. “Yeah, yes— it was kinda loud but…” her fingers dug into her palm as her hand clenched into a fist. The moment had passed. Her eyes landed on the food they had both clearly forgotten about. Didn’t matter, she wasn’t hungry anymore. “What, you’re allergic to... salt?” eyes narrowed, tilting her head. Her chest stirred again. There was a sensation inside her, heavy and uncomfortable in the pit of her stomach. And when her eyes met Evelyn's again, something in her told her she couldn’t trust her. She leaned back, attempting to put some distance between them. She clenched her jaw. Whatever she was feeling, it didn’t belong to her. She liked Evelyn, she was nice. She had to forget about that cold distrust building within her because she heard a question. “Can I— ” she licked her lips nervously, eyes back on the salt. She could, technically. But Evelyn would find it incredibly odd if she circled around the pile instead of just skipping through it like any normal person unaffected by salt would. “But you— you’re closer to the… you’re closer to the kitchen” she reasoned.

She’d never run into this sort of problem in public before. Of course, there had been the time - when she was little - when one of her cooks (sillyannoyingridiculousawful she remembered thinking, after the fact) had spilled some while making some sort of dish for a party. Evelyn had been sat up on a stool, eyes wide, hair spilling over her shoulders when it had happened and she’d hopped off, eager to find a way to help the cook clean up, finding herself unable to move. She hadn’t truly understood what was going on, except that she’d started screaming at such a high pitch that one of her nannies had come running - and her father too, eventually. He’d brushed away the salt and all of a sudden she’d been able to move again. She’d grown up a great deal since then, a great deal that meant she didn’t react in such an extreme way any more but it didn’t mean that she couldn’t feel her body tense up, at least slightly - at least as much as she’d found herself able to. “I - yes.” She blinked rapidly -- too much for what was normal, but all of this was a reminder of how very much not normal she was and she took in a breath, because Nicole was good and there was no way she was a hunter (though she’d been so very wrong about that before, hadn’t she?). She looked over to Nicole for a moment, watching the other woman push herself away. She didn’t know what she was planning and she could feel her own throat growing dry. “I - no. I cannot. It - you spend time outdoors,” she began, knowing that that excuse was certainly unimpressive. “I -” she began again, pulling her lower lip in. “I cannot go past it.” She finally settled on, not daring to look at Nicole. “I will not be able to move.” If she was out to hurt her, then she would already have figured it out. “It - I have been this way for as long as I can remember.” If Nicole was completely normal, then she might think Evelyn was losing her mind, but some small part of her hoped that Nicole would just understand it all without any undesirable consequences. If not - well, the small amount of time that they had known one another had been lovely.

“What?” Nicole had to laugh at the excuse Evelyn gave. It was nervous and out of place, but in any other moment she would’ve found the humor in it. Her laugh died in her throat only a moment later. The woman’s next words didn’t sound real. Her expression morphed from nervous to puzzled in a beat, before registering the meaning. She had never been too bright, but there was no other way to interpret what Evelyn was saying, right? Ghost, spirits, they couldn’t move through salt, she recalled an exorcist’s words a few months back. But Evelyn didn’t look like a ghost. Her heart was drumming so loudly in her ears it was hard to form coherent thoughts. There was so much she didn’t know. There was another explanation, right? Something she was missing. Instead, she was jumping to conclusions. Because— It couldn’t be. Was that the reason they had connected so quickly? Her chest heaved, eyebrows furrowed so tightly, she believed the lines would stay there forever. Just briefly, she allowed herself to consider— After years by herself, had she finally found someone like her? No. She was grasping at straws. There was nothing else to draw that conclusion from, except for the salt. That could mean anything. It seemed a waiter had walked past the table and spotted the mess, muttering something about cleaning it in a second, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the woman. The salt was forgotten. She didn’t care about it anymore. It was nothing. Just a catalyst for something much bigger. She leaned forward, eyes studying her intensely. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, a clue, a tell, anything from the woman to would give away that they were more alike than she had initially thought.

“Evelyn,” Nicole called gently, despite how uncomfortable she felt using people’s names. Too personal. There was so much she wanted to ask, so many thoughts jumbled together. She was on the brink of possibly finding someone like her. The first one since— really? Was she gonna cry already? She let out a shaky breath. “I’m— what do you mean you can’t cross salt. Look— look at me,” she kept her voice as even as possible, but the words rushed out of her mouth, pushing and demanding. She didn’t want to sound angry — far from it, she only needed confirmation— but she doubted she had the nuance in her tone to not startle Evelyn. “You’re not...are you— are... are you—” she clenched her fist, frustrated. And when she thought she wouldn’t let it out, it came a whisper. Hopeful, curious, charged. “Are you not... human?”

Nicole was laughing and it didn’t seem to be right at Evelyn, at least not as far as she could tell. Except she wasn’t reacting to what Evelyn had said - at least not entirely, and she took a sip of water -- too much, filling up her mouth so much so that she could just focus on that and not whatever was going on with Nicole. Don’tbeahunterdon’tbea - she forced those thoughts out of her mind, because if she were one, Evelyn would have to find a way to deal with that but she didn’t believe that Nicole was. Her disposition was far too gentle, too nervous, too kind to be one. “What?” Evelyn’s eyes grew wide, jolted entirely out of her thoughts, though she found that she didn’t mind Nicole actually using her name - was this was it was like to have would-be friends? - she shook her head. “I - I -” Look at me. She did. Looked over to Nicole, avoiding direct eye contact but taking in her kind eyes, the way that her hair flowed over her shoulders. “I - no. Not human.” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she tried to process everything. Her tone had changed and Evelyn could feel her own expression shift to one that was far more calm than it had been just moments ago -- the waiter not returning the furthest thing from her mind right now. “Are - are you not, either?” Was she a mara? That could have explained while Evelyn found herself drawn to her - she knew that Nicole wasn’t a ghost - Evelyn knew that she couldn't see ghosts, no matter how much she might have wished to (but then again, with what Nadia and Deirdre had told her she wasn’t quite as sold on those any longer). That didn’t mean there wasn’t another species out there that had some of the same difficulties as Evelyn did. “I - can - I  - I am a mara.” She bit her lip, sighed gently. “I hope that is okay.” Her voice got quieter then, nails tapping on the side of her water glass.

Silence hung over them as Nicole took everything in. For once, she couldn’t tell whether it was uncomfortable or not. It was just silence, she had too much to process to care about social cues. She had rehearsed for the evening dozens of times in her mind. Prepared as much as one could. Went over every scenario she could create, from decent, to bad, to terrible to disaster. Evelyn revealing she was not human due to a broken salt shaker hadn’t been in the cards. It was a struggle to figure out how to take the revelation. They should’ve learned about one another with time, when they had trusted each other enough to say the words without fear. Not in a loud dinner because of a preventable accident. She wasn’t human, Evelyn’s words confirmed. Her heart skipped a beat. Excitement? Was she like her, then? She didn't get the chance to ask. “I— am I? Uh...I—” she held her breath at the question. That was new, had she been too obvious? It had always been easy to conceal her otherness from the world, pass for human, stifle the animal so it was nothing but a dull ache in her chest. She had never told anyone before. Then again, no one had asked so plainly either. She didn’t fancy her chances lying, not when she never had a good poker face. It all showed in her eyes, she had been told. And Evelyn didn't deserve lies anyway, not after her unprompted honesty. Maybe she’d read her mind, somehow. Maybe she wouldn’t have to say it.

The woman continued talking, and the pressure in Nicole’s chest was too heavy to ignore. Was it disappointment? A Mara. She didn’t know that word. They weren't the same, then. She was something else entirely. A different creature? She had new questions. “I don’t—I’m not sure what...what’s that”. Evelyn’s last words made her throat tighten. She swallowed hard against the knot, blinking away the tears she knew had to be gathering in her eyes already. Was it okay? How many times had the woman asked that and gotten a negative response? How many times would Nicole have to do that if she ever felt brave enough to be honest? Unsure on what to say, she settled for what she would’ve liked to hear instead. “That’s— that’s okay. Of course, why wouldn’t—” she mumbled, lingering on the hand tapping against the glass before her eyes flicked back up, bright and understanding. She wanted to reach out and offer some comfort, but her limbs didn’t receive the message. “You’re good, please don’t think— I’m not scared, or anything”.

She let the moment hang between them, quiet and though Evelyn liked to consider herself someone who knew how to use her words well, she felt at a loss for them - for just now, she hoped, though she was not entirely sure. She certainly knew that she hadn’t gone into this evening expecting for her friend - for whatever Nicole was - to find out that she wasn’t human. This was supposed to have just been a nice outing. Something normal for Nicole, something that made her feel comfortable. She couldn’t help but feel her mind flash back to the night with Alain, when something else entirely normal and supposedly benign had outed her as not-human. Thankfully, Nicole hadn’t left her yet and Evelyn breathed a small sigh of relief.

She was stammering though and Evelyn pressed her hands against her thighs for a moment, willing any calm energy to concentrate then and now - to focus and not freak out about whatever Nicole’s eventual response would be once she was able form complete sentences. She’d give her time though - that much she more than deserved, having something like this just suddenly dropped on her.  “I - it is okay. I do not expect you to know.” She pressed her thighs against one another, taking in another deep breath. “I - I feed on fear.” Her voice was so quiet now, she wondered if Nicole could hear. “I - I promise I do not feed on fr - those I - people I like. Trust. You. I have not and shall not ever do that. I am a living nightmare, I suppose. That is likely the best manner of phrasing.” She shook her head. “You do not have to be scared of me. I - I am not bad.” She didn’t know why she felt such a desperate need to insist upon this, rather than to just leave things as they were - to state it more assuredly. “Thank you. Not everyone responds well, is all.”

If Nicole thought further explanation would clear things out, she was wrong. Evelyn’s words didn't make sense. “What is—” What exactly did she mean by feeding? How could anyone feed on fear? Impossible. She eyed the untouched salad then, swallowing all the questions she wanted to ask. “What...” referring to herself as a living nightmare didn’t help either. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to understand, she focused instead on how the woman acted. Someone who was trying her best to stay calm, whose words weren’t exactly the most coherent. Too familiar. Despite learning she was a creature who fed on fear —whatever that meant—, Evelyn had never looked more human to her. Her breath grew shallow as her throat tightened. How could she judge her for something she didn’t ask for? It wasn’t right. They lived in a cruel world, scared, persecuted, ashamed —in her case— of what they were. None of it was right. It hurt to hear Evelyn defend her nature to her. She looked down to hide her face, tears were threatening to spill. Great, had she upgraded to crying for others too? Worst of all, she didn’t know the right thing to say. Evelyn was baring secrets and she didn’t have the emotional capacity to deal with it. There were more barriers between them than just the table.

“I’m not scared of you” Nicole repeated, voice low but firm. “I don’t understand…I don’t get anything of what you’re saying, but listen—” she licked her lips as her mind went blank. Where was she going with that? She was about to find out. “You’re—” she looked at Evelyn again, heat rising to her cheeks as it often did when she was ashamed of being honest. “For some reason, the first person I thought of when I needed to talk... was you,” the reason they were at the diner, the catalyst for all the events that led Evelyn to reveal she wasn't human. New information could change opinions, sure, but she was talking to the woman who bought a guitar for her the first hour they met. There was hardly anything that could change her mind about the kind of person she was. “And you came. You said yes! To meet a— You don’t think I already know you’re not bad?”. She swallowed, getting her thoughts together. She had a lot of questions. Some that could wait until Evelyn felt safe enough with her, but there was one she couldn’t keep inside. “What did you mean by...how can anyone feed on fear? that’s not—it’s...it’s not— you can’t eat that”.

Nicole was doing a number of false starts and reformulations and Evelyn wished, if for only just a moment, to take back everything that she’d said. It was too much, maybe. Even if Nicole wasn’t getting up and leaving it could just as easily be all too much to expect her to understand. As much as it frustrated Evelyn when people didn’t seem to understand, she also couldn’t expect them to - though she figured that was more her father’s words getting to her - they often stayed away but seemed to have a tendency to reappear in moments of doubt - they had, shortly after she’d broken up with Alain and she found that they were reappearing now, much to what would have been her dismay if she’d let it.

Instead, she refocused on Nicole, who seemed to have found her own voice again and Evelyn let out her breath. “Good.” She replied. “You needn’t be scared.” Since when am I supposed to sound like my tutors from when I was a child? She mused for a moment. Nicole’s next words made her bite her lip softly, gaze growing soft, and she wasn’t quite sure what to make of the stirring of emotions that ran through her body, then. She imagined for a moment that this must have been what it would have been like to have had a friend (that word was alright to use, she figured, because that was the only way she could describe Nicole) as a child, having someone who wanted to come and talk to her and not because of her money. At least, she figured as much, given how much Nicole seemed to actively push away her offers of aid for any number of things. “I know, but I just - some see those who are not human - and they push away, they think that this changes things, even though it was not. I know of plenty of proper humans who have done more harm than anyone who is not human has ever done.” Her hands found her glass of water again and she took in another sip, Nicole’s next question not a surprise. “It - well, it is the way my body processes things. Truly, there are times when I do not understand it myself, but I just know that I - well, I can touch someone and create nightmares and that provides sustenance. Perhaps it is like how plants can take in sunlight and change it to nutrients?” She shrugged. “I am able to eat normal food too, I just need to feed on nightmares in order to survive.” Another sip of water - “I can explain further, best as I can, if you would like.”

Nicole considered the woman’s words for a second. She didn’t agree with it, but it made sense. She understood Evelyn because she wasn’t human either. She could relate. But had she been human, with no knowledge of the strange creatures that walked among them, she would have reacted differently to the revelation. She would’ve thought the woman was crazy. “That’s pretty dumb of them” to push away someone because they were different. Though, if she was being understanding with Evelyn, who could be dangerous to others, why couldn’t ignorant humans receive the same treatment? Maybe with more knowledge, their minds could be changed. The moral dilemma gave her a headache. “But I guess— guess we can’t be too hard on—on...people ” she shot a quick glance at the woman, catching herself before she could say humans.

Nicole’s eyes narrowed at the way Evelyn explained feeding, the plant analogy helping to better visualize it. It sounded terrifying and fascinating at the same time. To have the ability to unleash that sort of terror at her fingertips. It brought on more questions, but it was hard to articulate any. More than anything, it helped her understand why Evelyn had tried to reassure her she wasn’t bad. How scary were those nightmares? Could people die because of the distress? After what felt like eternity for Nicole, the waiter rushed to their side, endless apologies spilling out of his mouth. She didn’t care, she understood. The diner was full and busy, the staff not big enough to cover it. She eyed him briefly as he swept the remains of glass and salt. Only then, the pressure in her chest eased, her heart slowing down. It had to be a relief for Evelyn as well. “Yes, please—” a shy smile pulled at the side of her face. She glanced down to Evelyn’s hands, following every unintentional move. “So just… you touch someone and— does it depend on…” she paused, grabbing her beer again. She toyed with it instead of drinking.“The worse the nightmare is, the— your meal is it….meatier? or—” she cringed at her wording. She had to sound stupid.  

“It may be dumb, but it also cannot be helped, sometimes.” She knew that was why, despite everything, she still felt some level of sympathy toward her father. He should have acted better with everything, but in the end he was just scared. Evelyn knew his position and title meant nearly everything to him. So much so that he stayed married to her mother even when he knew what she was. So much so that he kept aspects of his life - so many aspects - secret. Made Evelyn play human - because being anything other than perfectly normal was frowned upon. Nicole’s words were a breath of fresh air and it made things feel at least a little bit okay. She shrugged. “I guess not.” Try living with this for years, try finding out what you are and having answers and being shut down. Try being so alone in the middle of a party thrown just for you. Though she knew that there was no way that Nicole meant any of what she’d say in any sort of negative way, Evelyn couldn’t help the desperate and uncomfortable feelings that rolled throughout her whole body.

The waiter arrived finally and had Evelyn been younger, more prone to her snobbery (though she knew that she certainly held a good bit of that now, still), she would have scoffed, asked why they had taken so long. She didn’t, now. She offered them a small smile, as if to say It does not matter. As if to entirely avoid that something so simple could so easily render her helpless. Turn her into a child again, too-long hair and bright eyes, melting down in the house’s kitchen. At least this hadn’t turned into that. At least she was safe. “I have to concentrate.” She murmured, fingers brushing along the tabletop. “I - well, they are fulfilling on different levels. I am unsure entirely, but I do find a certain satisfaction in ones that are worse, I suppose. It creates more fear which is - well, that is the essence of what I need.” Thankfully nobody else was paying them any attention. “How about we get out of here? My bar is open whenever I please, and I can tell you more there.”

“That is…” Nicole should’ve been scared, right? A person was telling her she was capable of causing people nightmares at will in order to survive. That was unlike anything she had seen in town. She should’ve been scared, because she generally had common sense. But each new bit of information she learned, only made her more curious. Only made her wonder what else was out there, hiding in plain sight. “That’s kinda cool. Shit— I mean I wouldn’t like to be the...but—” she had believed Evelyn when she said she wasn’t bad, but that sort of power in different hands—it had to be dangerous. “Oh” she was surprised by Evelyn’s suggestion to leave. Neither of them had even touched the food yet, but she couldn’t blame the woman for wanting to get as far away as possible from the diner. She looked down at her plate as she pondered. They weren’t exactly in the right place to have that sort of personal conversation, she figured. As loud as the diner was, she had to assume there were others like her among them, with keen ears. Who might not take Evelyn’s revelation as well as she had. For their safety, it was probably the best idea to follow the woman’s suggestion.

Nicole found that she didn’t mind going either.  She was drained already from being surrounded by so many people. Trying to tune out noises and smells was a struggle. She still couldn’t figure out why she had chosen Al’s to meet in the first place. Bad idea from beginning to end. She glanced at the now clean floor. They were allowed to leave now, so why not? She tried to push down the guilt over the disastrous evening. She couldn’t have known. It wasn’t her fault. “Uh— sure. Yeah, that sounds— why not?” it took everything in her to fight the urge to call it a day, and just go home, avoiding more social interaction. Deep down is what she wanted, but what she wanted wasn’t always what she needed. “Let me just...” she bit the inside of her cheek, awkwardly waiting to be noticed by the waiter to ask for the check. “I could really use a drink— a real one, after all...this. So, let’s— let’s  go”.

[ilguna]

Metanoia - Chapter Six (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 6.2k

Warnings; swearing

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

If for whatever reason, you’d ever have to be a spy, you’d be absolutely fantastic at it. Not only are you quiet, but you’re fairly secretive. You’d be good at a job like that, infiltrating the enemies lines and gathering information just to bring it back to the person who wanted it.

Although, you’re not the one doing that right now, it’s Neysa. She’s the one gathering information from others and bringing it to you to assess as you try to work out this now oh-so complicated plan. It’s so bad, that you might even have to go back on your word about double-alliances.

You throw the blankets off of you, slipping off of the bed. You take one glance at the clock to check the time to see that it’s two in the morning, you’re going to be right on time. To wake yourself up a little bit, you go into the bathroom, turning on the sink. You gather a handful of water before splashing it onto your face.

Using the towel to dry off your face, you toss it onto the counter and then head to leave the room. The door opens automatically for you, and the walk through the hallway is short. You can see the silhouette of Neysa’s body standing by the tv in the living room.

One of your ankles pop, which makes her turn to make sure that it’s you. You can see her shoulders sink a little bit, relieved that it is you, and not someone else. She won’t have to explain why she’s standing in front of the tv on low volume at one in the morning.

“So?” you whisper, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Haymitch says that Peeta says no.” Neysa tells you.

“No surprise there, it was worth a shot. Katniss is probably holding him back.” Which is a good thing, your intentions aren’t to be friends with them, if you get in, you can kill them and then get out.

If they both have managed to set history, then that means that they have to be taken out, it’s as simple as that. They shouldn't be allowed to stay alive longer than a couple of days. You know that Brutus is already on edge, you can only imagine how Gloss and Cashmere are.

You three are like a pack of wild wolves.

However, as you four will be working towards the same goal, it’s for different reasons. They’ll likely want to do it so they can get it off their backs and be able to survive without the worry of Katniss or Peeta sneaking up on you guys. As for you, you can’t just settle with being a two-timing victor.

If you can take out both Katniss and Peeta, then the crown would be pure gold. You’d be looked at differently for the rest of your life. People would practically bow at your feet. If you can take down the people that have broken records, then you’re no one to mess with. 

And on top of that, you want to take down Finnick too. That’s three fucking kills that would make you a ton more deadly and looked up to. The boy who won at the youngest age, and a pair of tributes from an outsider district that got twelves. Just the thought of having power like that in your palms sends a shiver down your spine.

You’d be a living legend. Infamous, people would know your name for years to come.

(Y/n) Rosecelli. Victor of both the sixty-sixth hunger games and the seventy-fifth Quarter Quell. She went up against twenty-three other tributes and came out a winner on both occasions. On top of that, she also took out three record-breaking victors. One of whom was the youngest victor, ever, Finnick Odair. And the only two tributes who have ever received a twelve, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark.

You can see it all now.

“Well, what about Finnick?”

“Said he’d talk to you in person today.” Neysa says, “Will you tell me your plan now?”

You smile a little bit, “Infiltrate the enemy’s alliance. Wipe them out. Go back to my original alliance. Three simple steps.”

Neysa is thinking, until a smile starts to slowly spread over her face, “Smart girl.”

--

Getting out of bed this time is much harder than it was the first time. You would rather just lay here for a little while longer and stare at the ceiling. For once, this feeling of dread belongs to you and not anyone else. And you have a faint feeling on why.

You’re about to be interrogated to hell by the one person you hate the most in the world. He’s going to ask you why you’ve changed your mind so quickly and if he should be weary of anything. And then he’ll ask if he should even trust you, especially after you made your goal very clear; kill everyone and win.

He won’t be dumb enough to accept blindly, which will be a pain in the ass, but you suppose it could make it more fun as well. Having him look over his shoulder, keeping one eye open when he sleeps. Always anticipating your next move.

Why not play with your prey a little bit?

The dread is replaced by your own enthusiasm. You pull yourself out of bed, going to the bathroom to take a shower. The water is burning hot on your skin as you scrub yourself clean with nice smelling soaps. You allow yourself to wash your hair today, since you’ll need to be looking your absolute best today for the interview. Greasy hair isn’t the best quality to have.

When you’re done, you scrunch your hair in one towel, while drying your body with another one. You pull on comfortable clothes since you’ll be changing soon anyway, and go back to your hair immediately after. With a few detangling sprays, the brush goes through your hair as if there were no knots to begin with.

You squeeze out any excess water into the sink. You look as good as you’re going to for now, and you practically skip your way out into the dining room. Only Neysa sits there, coffee mug in her hand. The avox is by the table with food.

“Coffee,” you tell her, she nods and moves into the kitchen to grab it, “Room for creamer, please.”

You take your seat across from Neysa, loading up your plate without a word to her. You begin on a roll, occasionally dipping it into your stew. Every movement feels as if you’re in a hurry. You have to slow yourself down considerably, giving yourself a time limit for when you can take another bite.

When the avox comes over with the coffee the way you like it, you thank her. They’re human as much as you are. If there’s one thing you’re not fond of in the Capitol, it’s the way they use district people as servants for something they’ve done. No matter how bad, they don’t deserve to be treated like that. Not to mention, there are much worse jobs than this for them to take, too.

Actually, the avoxes aren’t the ones picking them out, it’s the officials that run all that for Snow. They’re the ones assigning people based on what they think they’d be good at. Hell, you think that some avoxes aren’t even people from the districts, that it’s people from the Capitol too. Which is weird, considering that the Capitol is supposed to be the favorite.

“Amias will be coming up in thirty minutes to get you.” Neysa says, “Eat quickly, just don’t make yourself sick.”

“Sure.” you say, resuming the pace that you had been going originally.

It’s only ten minutes later when Edmond is coming into the room. He hesitates by the doorway, and then he cautiously takes his seat at the table. Five minutes after that, Brutus is bounding into the room without a care in the world, also taking a seat. The only person that is missing is Theo, thank god.

You’re glad that you haven’t been forced to listen to his fucking voice, it’s an absolute nightmare to deal with.

Once you’re done eating, you ask for another cup of coffee while you wait out the last ten minutes. Today is going to fly by as if it’s not actually happening. It’s the last day of ‘peace and quiet’ before tomorrow, the beginning of the games. It’s like sitting on the edge of your seat.

There’s literally endless possibilities on what the arena will look like tomorrow. You haven’t got a single clue on what it might be. All you do know is that it’s going to be special and deceiving. It’s how the last Quarter Quell went with Haymitch. While you were rewatching the games, they included Haymitch’s games.

Your only guess as to why is because it’s the most recent Quell. They’re throwing you a bone of sorts. Let you know that it’s going to be hell from start to finish. Things are not going to be what they seem.

The landscape was beautiful, the animals, the air, the water, the land. All of it was something out of a dream, it looked like. Until dream turned to nightmare, when the animals turned out to be rabid, and the arena was nowhere near friendly. And that was the year there were forty-eight tributes instead of twenty-four. Not only were the tributes doubled, but everything inside of the arena was working against them.

Haymitch had gotten lucky when he won. His stomach was spilling out of his body, he was quite literally holding it in. As for the girl he had gone up against, she was missing an eye. Blood was running down her face as if it was a new established river. The both of them should have been dead, but one of them threw their weapon over the cliff. It hit the forcefield, and came right back at the girl, nailing her in the forehead.

It’s the only reason why Haymitch had won. He realized that the forcefield was there early on into the games. Utilized it and stuck by the cliff for the rest of them. The girl was just unlucky that she was still standing there when the weapon came firing back.

The sound of an opening door makes you glance over your shoulder. And just like Neysa had promised, Amias stands at the door, “Ready to go?”

You finish off the rest of the caffeine, you now know why Neysa has been so adamant when it comes to drinking this stuff, it really does keep you energized. You set the mug back down before skipping down the steps to Amias.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

She opens the door for you, but doesn’t follow you out just yet, “Brutus, be down there in at least three hours from now, showered.”

“Got it.”

Amias closes the door after that, and the two of you head over to the elevator. She takes care of pressing the buttons, bringing you guys down to the floor where you need to be.

“What’s the plan for tonight?”

“Get you dolled up so you can make an impression on sponsors.” Amias says.

You roll your eyes, “No shit. What am I going to look like?”

“You’ll see.”

Resisting the urge to get snotty with her, you lace your fingers together and stare straight ahead. The elevator doors open, and she takes the lead, bringing you through the hallways. It’s not as empty as it usually is, there are a few people walking around already.

They look like Capitol citizens, so your best guess is that they’re prep teams and stylists. Although, the stylists typically treat the prep teams like they’re under their boots, so the prep teams run the most errands while the stylists sit back and do anything else. The stylists’ jobs are more important though, so it’s no surprise.

Anyway, that doesn’t really matter.

Amias brings you into the room where you had been for the tribute parade. The two guys are already waiting by the chair, looking at you skeptically, until the one that normally does your hair, perks up considerably.

“You washed your hair! Good, did you use all the products they had?” he asks, coming over to feel.

“I thought I’d leave the aftercare to you guys, since I don’t really mess around with that type of stuff.”

“Good decision.” he says, then he looks at Amias, “We’ll let you know when she’s ready for the outfit.”

“I’ll be back soon, (Y/n)” Amias says, leaving the room.

You’re directed to the chair, and the one who does your hair doesn’t really hesitate with getting to work. The other one sits back for now, rummaging through all the makeup that they have on the vanity. He’ll open a pallet, look over it, and then set it back onto the stack that just seems to grow taller and taller.

You watch patiently as your hair is messed with. He starts off with blow drying it, which takes a pretty long time since he’s not using the hot air. He’s got plenty of time to mess around and do what he wants. He leaves it fairly damp, coats his hands in product, and then spreads it through your hair. He doesn’t bother brushing your hair before moving on to the next product.

The hair and makeup are probably going to take forever, which is why Amias slipped out of the room. The tribute parade outfit didn’t take nearly as long or had a hassle like this, because it wasn’t as important. People can hardly see you when you’re on the chariots anyway, since you’re so distanced.

As for the interviews, people are going to see you up close and personal. Every detail that is fucked up will be critiqued harshly, which leads to bad publicity. It takes away sponsors, it dissipates Amias’s good reputation, and suddenly you’re not a favorite anymore.

You just want to get through with getting ready, so you can skip to the part where you’re standing in front of Finnick. You’re quite curious about what he might say now. How he’ll handle everything, and if he’ll take you up on the offer.

Neysa was sure to specify that you wanted both Mags and Finnick as allies, but only to mention it to Finnick so he could make the decision. You were hoping that you wouldn’t have to talk to him face to face, and have the mentors communicate for you guys, but it will be easier to convince him. Maybe you can even play innocent, apologize and say it’s one big act.

As if he or anyone else would believe that now. They know who you are, they know how you won your games. The only thing that you’re genuinely good at--besides everything else that you’re good at--is the fact that you’re deceiving. But you can’t be deceiving to an audience that already knows your plans.

You can sure as hell try, but that will tear away all the work you’ve made. Sponsors will likely go down the toilet. And honestly, since you depend on sponsors to get you by--and you’ll definitely be doing that this year because of the arena--then you can’t really give that up.

Wasn’t a good plan anyway.

You watch as your hair is parted into two, the top half, and the bottom half. The top part starts at your temples, and he pulls it into one ponytail at the back of your head. He then pulls out a ton of bobby pins, beginning to pin a bun in place. When he’s done with that, he pulls some hair out in front to frame your face before using hairspray to keep the top half in place.

He moves onto the bottom, making your hair into loose curls. After each section, he’ll use more hairspray and then move onto the next. This is when the makeup guy finally comes in, getting to work.

You close your eyes to make it easier for him, knowing that you probably won’t be able to see yourself in the mirror in a while anyway, “What time is it?”

“Only two or three hours before interviews start.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Half past one.” the one doing your hair answers, “I’ll be done with your hair soon, and then go and get Amias while you eat something.”

You can’t believe that time has flown that fast. You’d be super surprised, but you did get out of bed by nine, which is pretty late considering all the early starts you’ve been getting lately. Amias more or less threw you a bone by letting you get up that late. 

Brutus is lucky that he doesn’t have to go through as much as you do. He doesn’t even have hair to be messed with.

“Did you see the scores last night?”

“Of course I did, can you believe it?”

“Are you going to sponsor either of them?”

“Are you stupid?” he asks, and then pauses to think, “They’re going to be dead within the first day.”

“Who do you think would be dumb enough to go after them?”

“Me.” you laugh.

“Well--” the one doing your makeup sounds like he doesn’t believe it, “You’d really go after Katniss and Peeta?”

“They’re not that good.” the hair guy says, ��Especially not Peeta.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

Hair guy laughs, “You only like them because of their love story. Plus, they’re a couple of teenagers, they may be youthful, but they don’t have that much experience.”

“Who do you think that they’re allied with?”

“After we saw what Katniss did last year--probably Mags. I mean, can you really see her with anyone else? She chose a child as an ally and skipped over Peeta entirely.”

“I guess you have a point.”

They’re not wrong, Katniss did get with a child, and you saw her around Wiress and Beetee the first day. And then later on with Mags at the fishhook station. You think that was just before she went to the bow and arrow station. You can hardly remember it because you were still training with the idiot in body armor.

He wasn’t very good at his job.

Anyway, if Katniss is paired with Mags, then that inadvertently pairs her with Finnick too. Which then drags Peeta into that mess as well. It makes sense for them, but you wonder how Johanna and Blight pair into all of this… 

Finnick could have very well been acting like that to throw you off his trail, though. So you should take all this information with a grain of salt. Finnick is a good liar, you’ve seen him in action quite a lot since volunteering. 

But if Johanna and Blight are in this, then that would mean that Peeta brought them in. He seems to have more sense than Katniss does. She chooses the weaker people--people who can’t really fight back if she wants to overpower them. And she doesn’t seem to do that because she does plan to fight them later on, it’s because she wants to look over them.

As for Peeta, he paired with the careers. He’s smart, getting with people that can protect him. When he had first come in with Katniss, his first place to go to was Brutus, Cashmere and Gloss. Then Johanna, and later you during lunch. Like he was trying to set down a base with you guys on purpose.

Well, they did what they had to do. They knew none of you, unlike you guys. You’ve heard about and known each other for years. They’re new to this whole victor thing. It’s a shame that they won’t live to be able to see the rest of it.

They finish hair and makeup at around the same time. You’re given food that isn’t messy and would mess up your makeup--even though he had sprayed a ton of setting spray to keep it all in place. You eat enough, leaving yourself slightly hungry so that you won’t feel nauseous on stage.

Amias comes in ten minutes later with the hair guy. In her hands is a dress-length bag that’s concealing it from sight. Hair guy pulls out a moving closet that’s just a few metal poles on wheels. She hooks the hanger on, and then unzips the bag.

Your mouth falls open, “Jeez.”

Amias looks at you, “Do not disappoint on stage tonight. This is the best dress I have.”

You give her a look, “As if I ever disappoint.”

“Spray some of that glitter in her hair again,” she tells the hair guy, “She’ll need it tonight.”

Your face is covered with what looks like cardboard, while the hairspray is added. Amias pulls the dress out of the bag, there is no zipper, the back is open enough to the point where you can just step in. They hold your hands and arms while you step in, then they pull it up and over your body.

It’s a mermaid dress, the type that’s skin-tight at the top but flows at the knees. This one is a little looser though, allowing you to move without problem. It’s silky on the inside, but a little rough on the outside because of the glitter. When you rub it and take a look at your hands, nothing transferred.

The dress is held up by spaghetti straps that cross in the back to make an x. There is no plunge, it dips a little to show off cleavage, but that’s where the line is drawn.

“Grab her the white heel-less shoes.” Amias says, she pulls out Tanith’s necklace, putting it on for you.

They bring over a pair of shoes that look basically the same as the black ones you wore for the reaping. No heel, but they are heels, designed to keep you balanced even if you lean back. That doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t be careful with how you move around.

You let them put on the shoes for you, since you don’t have that much of an option. Even with the shoes on, the dress still hits the floor, and there’s a little bit of a train in the back.

They slip in matching earrings, bracelets and the ring that you had gotten from the tribute parade to please whoever threw the gift at you. It’s a hope that they’ll sponsor you when you’re inside of the arena because of it. It makes you look considerate and humble, which you don’t really care about.

They’re like a hurricane with how they move around you. They tweak, they adjust, they take a step back. Amias orders them around harshly, she’s strict on what she wants. She’s obviously got something envisioned and she won’t allow it to be fucked up by a couple of morons.

“How much time until interviews?” you ask.

Makeup guy takes a look at his watch, “Thirty minutes.”

“Am I done?” you ask Amias.

“In a hurry?”

“I’ve got something to do, and it has to be done before interviews since we’ll be standing on stage after them.”

Amias looks over you one last time, “Yes, you may go. Pull up the front when you walk, don’t bend down, and don’t touch your face or hair. If you need something to play with, stick with the ring and necklace.”

“Thank you.” you say, giving her a wave as you slip out of the room.

In the hallway waits a couple of people already. Cashmere, Gloss and Brutus primarily. They all stand together in a half circle. Gloss looks over by chance and catches you.

Following what Amias said, you pull up the front of the dress as you walk over, being sure to give a look around to see if Finnick is out just yet. You can’t imagine that he really needs a lot done to him. The guys always get let off easier.

A great example, is whatever the fuck Brutus is wearing.

“You’re kidding me.” you flick the silver armor that he has on.

After, you’re quick to make sure you haven’t chipped your nail polish. It’s fine, it’s probably got some strong coating knowing Amias.

“Nope.”

“You’re basically wearing what you had for the tribute parade.” you scowl, “I guess you can get away with whatever you want.”

Brutus shrugs.

You look at Cashmere and Gloss to see that they’re wearing similar sequin outfits. You make a face, nodding since it makes sense that they’re matching. They’re siblings after all. Cashmere takes this as a nod of approval and sends a smile your way.

“You look amazing.” Gloss says.

“I know.” you say, looking around again.

There he is, eyes locked on you. He uses his index finger to beckon you to follow him, going around a corner. You let out a laugh, and then look to the others to see that they’re waiting to see what you’re laughing at.

“I’ve got to use the restroom, can you believe that? I’ll be back in a second.” you tell them, before leaving them.

You pass by a couple of people in the hallway, and with the way that they stare, you feel like you’re at a high school prom all over again. Junior year after you had won your games, the way that people looked at you was never the same. As if they were afraid to approach you or something.

You did win prom queen that year, though. And then the year after that, too.

You take a wide turn around the corner as if Finnick is going to pounce on you the second you round it. However, he’s pretty far down the hall, arms crossed with a smug look on his face.

“What happened to being too good for an alliance with me?” he asks, he looks amused and cocky.

“I came to my senses,” you flash him a white smile, “I realized that it might be good to have you around, after all.”

“It has nothing to do with the fact that Katniss and Peeta got twelve’s?”

You can’t lie your way out of this, he’ll know, “Partially. Forget hanging around with Cashmere, Gloss and Brutus. I want a place in whatever you have.”

“Fat chance.” he says, and you can feel your smile fade a little.

“Why not?”

“You know why. I don’t want you killing my allies.”

“Want them all to yourself?” Your eyebrow spikes up, “Tell me Finnick, are you going to be able to protect them when they rush towards the cornucopia tomorrow?”

Finnick opens his mouth, “They can take care of themselves.”

“Let’s see, you’ll be taking care of Mags, and Katniss will be taking care of Peeta because he’s nothing but a sack of flour--how ironic. If you have me there, I can basically be a bodyguard.”

“Until you kill one of us in our sleep, right?” Finnick watches your face carefully, “You’re mistaking me for something that I’m not.”

“Everyone is going to kill each other one way or another.” you say, “I won’t have to do it early on, that’s the whole point of alliances. I keep you guys around until we start to turn on each other.”

“What if we don’t have those intentions?” Finnick asks, there’s an edge to his voice.

You open your mouth, “What are you planning?”

“Tell me, (Y/n), are you a loyalist?”

You can feel yourself become stiff. Loyalist, a term normally used for people who would follow the government no matter what happens. In that case, it would the Capitol and the districts. It’s no secret that District One and District Two would follow the Capitol because you guys are treated like loyalty, as for the other districts...

There’s a deeper meaning, especially after what happened in the last games. Not all the districts like the Capitol or President Snow and his precious Hunger Games. They would do anything to cancel them, and after what Katniss pulled with Peeta, there have been a few people fighting back, Neysa and Edmond were whispering about it over dinner last night.

Loyalist. Loyalist. Loyalist.

There’s a much bigger plan going on here.

You snap your mouth shut, which has since opened after that question. You press your lips together tightly as you stare at Finnick’s face. You feel like a robot with how you don’t move.

Loyalist. It would mean that they’re planning to go against President Snow, right? It would mean that there will be people who stay loyal to the Capitol, and the people who wouldn’t be.

You can’t lie, you have had a fantastic life in District Two. But you’re human and you realize that other people are too. Just like how you hate how the avoxes are treated, you hate how some of the other districts are treated too.

But if an uprising is what they think is going to solve all of this, you don’t like them at all. They’re going to screw up the way of life for too many people. District Two is happy how they serve the Capitol, no one will fight with them. And if you’re wrong about that, then there aren't very many who will.

However, would you fight with them? If what he said is real, would you fight with them?

“You are bold.” you continue staring at Finnick with an open mouth, unsure of how to actually approach this, “And careless for asking me a question like that outright.”

Finnick’s face twists now, “Are you, though?”

The thing is you don’t know. The hunger games is all you’ve ever known. You’ve never lived any other lifestyle.

“Yes or no.” Finnick insists.

“I’m not going to answer that question.” you decide, “Because I don’t know what you’re up to, and I don’t want to. Forget the alliance thing, I change my mind.”

You start to walk off, but Finnick catches your arm, “I could tell you.”

“Why would you want to?”

Finnick lets go, “Because having you on our side could be useful.”

“Useful for what?” you lower your voice, “Getting everyone else in District Two to follow behind all the other rioting districts?”

He’s clearly surprised that you understood so quickly.

“We have nothing to complain about, Finnick. We’ve got the good life.”

“And everyone else? What about the people who don’t have the good life? The ones that fight to live everyday? What about them?” he asks.

You nod slowly, thinking, “Well, I’m not a loyalist and I’m not too fond of being considered a traitor either.”

“You’re after the glory of being a legend, right?” Finnick asks, you take a step back, “This is better than that. People will know that you were the first person from District Two to hop on and lead. You want people to look up to you, here it is.”

You want to tell him it’s not the same, but the words don’t appear in your mouth.

Finnick is looking past you now, and you turn to see who he’s staring at. Haymitch Abernathy, his eyebrows are drawn together, “Interviews have started.”

“Thanks.” Finnick says, and the two of you watch as he disappears behind the corner again, “Don’t make the decision now, but if you do want to join us, come and find me inside of the arena.”

You look at him, “You’re going to run to the cornucopia, I’m not stupid.”

“I know you’re not. Which is why I think you’ll make the right decision.”

You scoff, “Right decision? You know what you’re asking, right?” and then you laugh, shaking your head as you pull up your dress so you can walk away, “How do I know if any of this is even true?” he doesn’t say anything, “Exactly, this could be some sort of sick ruse just to draw me in to kill me and get me out of the way. I didn’t come here to be killed, I came here to win. And you’re going to have to fight me for it.”

You shake your head at him one last time before turning around and walking back to the main hallway. There are a ton of people waiting now, but you don’t spare any looks. Brutus is waiting for you by a tv, which holds both Cashmere and Gloss.

“They’re doing it together?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, since they’re siblings and all,” Brutus takes a look over your face, “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” you say, “I’m ready for all of this to be done now. No more meddling, I just want to be inside of the arena.”

“Tomorrow.” Brutus says, “Then everyone can pay their dues.”

You smile a little bit at the thought, “Anyway, are we going up together?”

“No, we’re not.” Brutus says, you watch as Caesar starts to wrap up the interview.

“Better get ready.” he motions for you to go down the hall.

You do, being sure to hold up the front of the dress as you go down. Amias is standing in a little alcove with a mirror. She adjusts a few things, wishes you luck and then you stand in front of the doors.

There’s a cheering of the crowd before Caesar starts talking, “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s welcome one of our favorites! You know her as the girl who blew her competition out of the water! Let’s give a warm welcome to (Y/n) Rosecelli!”

The doors open, you can see Caesar has his arm outstretched towards you. The spotlight meets your eyes, making it difficult to see, but you don’t dare to move your hands from the fronts of your dress. You’re just puzzled as to why he said the second thing.

‘Blew her competition out of the water’? Since when? As in you did so well during your games, or something you might have done during this week that you weren’t aware of? It’s weird to know that the Capitol gives tributes nicknames, you’d think they’d run out of them.

Gloss and Cashmere, the brother and sister duo. Beetee, the genius. Finnick, the peacock. Johanna, the deceiver. Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire and Peeta Mellark--loverboy.

You never got to know yours. 

You take Caesar’s hand when you come up the steps, giving the biggest smile you can to the audience, “Caesar!”

“(Y/n)!” He meets your enthusiasm.

The two of you wait until the audience has settled before actually starting with the interview. When you look over your shoulder, you can see that Cashmere and Gloss are waiting up on some small walkway. You’ll be standing there for an hour when you’re done with this interview.

“How does it feel to be back in the Capitol after all these years?” He begins, “You know, we’ve missed you and your business.”

“It feels fantastic, really. Like I’m back in my second home, the Capitol has this welcoming feel, especially for me. If it weren’t for my favorite students back home, then I would stay here forever.” you give a big smile, “I might even consider it, after I win.”

Caesar laughs, the citizens cheer at the sound of that, “You’ve got your mind set on the big win?”

“Of course I do. And I promise to make this year much more entertaining than my first games. No abrupt endings this time.”

More cheering, enough so that Caesar has to watch the clock so it doesn’t take up too much of your time, “You said that you have students, what ever do you mean?”

You laugh a little, “I mean my two tributes who won, Tanith and Zavian. I’m hoping they’re watching, but knowing Zavian, he’s likely avoiding the television until I’m off.” you give a look to the nearest camera, “As for Tanith, she’s on the edge of her seat, fingers crossed that I don’t blow this.”

“You could never!” Caesar says, “You’re too good to even be on here.”

“I wouldn’t say that, Caesar.” you laugh with him.

“Is there anything you would like to say to Tanith or Zavian?”

You pucker your lips as you think, “Well, I just want them to know that I will uphold my promise. I will be coming home, even if it might kill me. I will be walking out of that arena alive.”

“That’s a bold statement.”

“I’m a bold person.” you say.

While the crowd cheers, Caesar is obviously thinking up other things to ask you, “Should we expect any surprises?”

It feels like you have a flashback to the hallway, to Finnick telling you not to make your decision right then and there. It was open-ended. It was an invitation to go and see him whenever you’d like inside of the arena if you come to your senses. As if he’ll take you in with no question.

“Maybe.” You say, “Because we both know that the arena will be a doozy, there’s no telling what might happen inside of there.”

Caesar nods, liking that answer.

There’s a faint beeping, which is a signal that your interview is over.

“Thank you for your time (Y/n), it was a pleasure having you.”

“It was a pleasure being back inside of the Capitol after nine years.” you give a wave to the audience.

“Everyone, please give a big round of applause for (Y/n) Rosecelli, our favorite star!”

Star. That’s your nickname.

You’re a Star.

[anachronisims]

New posts resume tomorrow, so refresh on all your favorite cave-dwellers’ plotlines in the ultimate tldr catch up post!

When the last snows melted and it was safe to travel again, six couples set off in search of a perfect place to found a settlement of their own.  They could not believe their luck when they stepped over a the crest of a hillock and saw before them the lush, rich river valley upon which they would soon bestow the name “Meraki.”

After passing a large meadow with wild berries and evidence of recent animal activity, when the group found six caves at the foot of the next hillock, they knew this was their place.  They spent the next few weeks chopping down trees, settling into their new cave homes, and working together to create some common amenities at the Fishin’ Hole.  Then, their new lives began in earnest...

Tammuz:  “Howdy, neighbor!  How goes it today?”

Kimba:  “Oh, you know, the usual.  Working in the garden, trying to pull forth some food from this sparse and spotty terrain.  We’re going to need to start thinking about storing food away for the winter if we’re all going to stay healthy and strong.”

Tammuz:  “Huh.  Yeah, I guess summer probably is ending any day now…”

Lehabim:  “Yeah, I’ve got this whole five-year plan for expansion.  We fill out the area here around the Fishin’ Hole with some huts, get ourselves out of these caves and everything, then start spreading out towards that meadow we passed when we came in?  There will be plenty of space for the next generation and any newcomers we can attract.  Which we will, because Pallu and Junia are going to spread our reputation as a strong, prosperous place to settle far and wide!  It’s as easy as child’s play, when you think about it!”

Lehabim:  “Hey, so, you’re trying to be like, a shaman now, right? Like, tell us all this mystical shit from up in the stars and whatnot?”

Noel:  “Yeah, I mean, a little bit of what’s in the stars, a little bit of what’s in the trees, like that sacred bloodleaf tree there on the island in the middle of the Fishin’ Hole.  There’s a lot of ideas out there about why this is all happening, where Meraki and the rest of the world came from and who moved mountains and dug rivers and why we walk and talk and do what we do all day long.  I just love talking about this stuff, I could go on and on all day!  ALL DAY!”

Lehabim:  “If you do, you know, get in touch with the spirit world, you think you could ask them if they know how to make this bread stuff? That guy Pallu has been talking about it ever since we got here, it’s like he’s absolutely obsessed with bread. I think half the reason he’s trying to become a trader is so he has an excuse to run away from home and look for this mythical village where they supposedly make it. It’s supposed to be warm and filling and kind of soft but also solid enough to hold other food in it?”

Noel:  “Oh my stars, that’s absolutely THE most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!!” Lehabim:  “I know, right?!  But. Seriously, though, if you get in touch with the spirits, ask them for me. I’d love to beat Pallu to it… if, you know, it turns out it’s real.”

Nadii’ya:  “Good morning, Kimba!” Kimba:  “Hallooo, Nadii’ya! Sleep well?” Nadii’ya:  “Honestly? I’ve been better.  Maybe it was something I ate?  I threw up this morning.  Got any ideas?”

Kimba:  “Oh, well, it definitely might have been something you ate, but that’s not the only explanation.  You might have… you might be pregnant, new friend!  The best medical science available today says that it happened because you WooHooed. You did WooHoo, right?”

Nadii’ya:  “Uh, yeah, of course.”

Pallu:  “Did Stachia tell you her idea about giving special medals for acts of val -”

Nadii’ya:  “Let me stop you right there.  The proper reward for someone who, say, slays a boar that has roamed into the village, is to let them keep the carcass.  They risk getting gored to death to protect everyone, and then what? The village splits up the boar and hands the hero a shiny rock for their good deed?  No way.  The one who saves the village should be rewarded with the boar, they and their family should get to feast!  Why is this so difficult to comprehend?”

Pallu:  “Well, but, I mean, that’s what the boar-slayer signed up for. Protecting everyone, not feasting on a boar.  When they do the job, why should not everyone share in the feast?  Isn’t that how a community works?” Nadii’ya:  “But I could have hypothetically died!!!!!”

Kimba:  “I can see it both ways. On the one hand, you, as the warrior, are risking certain death for the benefit of the entire community, and as such, you feel like the reward should be equal to that risk.  On the other hand, Death is all around us, all the time, and we pretty much are all subject to certain death with every step we take.  We made a community to ease the burden of living with this knowledge, to share our many burdens and attempt to ward off Death as best we can.  Life is short, and why should we not all share its bounties as fully and fairly as we share our burdens?”

Nadii’ya:  “…Kimba, you’re not going to die from kissing a boo-boo. Some of us are sharing the burden of death a little more than others.”

Tammuz: “So, you’re a carpenter, eh? That means you work with… wood?”

Gandu: “That’s me, the wood master of Meraki! What can I do you for?” Junia: ::loud eyeroll::

Gandu: “So, you know my partner, Junia -” Junia: “Hi!” Gandu: “-she’s going to work on finding this village that makes this amazing drink out of wheat that makes you feel like the king of the world and makes everybody friendly.  Isn’t she great?”

Rubati:  “The reason we must light fires every single night is to protect us from dangerous animals, and also, from the spirits of dangerous animals, which can cause us even more harm!  There’s a wolf-like beast with extra scary horns that likes to terrorize Sims at night and disturb their sleep, but it’s completely terrified of fire!  Isn’t that great?”

Pallu:  “I cannot wait until I know how to make bread, holy ogres.  Mushrooms are just pretentious dirt.”

Stachia:  “Can I just say, I’m so so so so glad we all found each other and became best friends?  For months, the only Sim I had to talk to was Pallu, and, creator knows I love him, but he can be such a bore sometimes.  Can you imagine?  Endlessly traipsing through snow and forests, crossing rivers and mountains, and just ‘bread bread makeouts bread woohoo bread bread bread,’ constantly.  At least now that we’ve established a home, he can leave and go look for it and I can have some peace and girl talk!”

Saphir:  “Hey, love, guess what!”

Lehabim:  “You want to make out with me?”

Saphir:  “Well, yes, but also, Stachia asked me to be in the hunting party she’s putting together.  We’re going to start making trips to the meadow and bring back loads of food for the whole village to share.  Isn’t that a great idea?”

Lehabim:  “Sure… kinda wish I’d had it, to be honest.”

Tobiah:  “Hey!!!  Hey everybody!!  Look what I caught!!” Nadii’ya:  “I curse this pole to the depths of this Fishin’ Hole for ever and all time, may it never see the light of day or feel the breath of a cool breeze or do anything but rot into nothingness in the mud and the muck amongst the fish it so thoroughly refused to catch.”

Lehabim:  “Do you think I should make a pact with a demon to consolidate power?” Saphir:  ::record scratch::

Tobiah:  “Wait a second.  Special wheat drink.  Beer?  Are you talking about beer?”

Pallu:   “Are… ‘beer’?  Are you saying you know how to make the special wheat drink?”

Tobiah:  “I mean, more or less.  We had wheat fields all around our homeland, and you basically just take some wheat and seal it in a jug with some water and let it sit for a while and then you have beer.  It’s really not that complicated.  Anyone can do it in their own cave.  And the longer you forget about it, the better it ends up being!  It’s kind of perfect for me, lol”

Pallu:  “And this information has just been inside your head this whole time?”

Tobiah:  “I suppose so.”

Pallu:  “Did y’all make bread back there, too?”

Tobiah:  “No, no no no.”  

Tobiah:

Tobiah:  “But we did hear rumors of a village that did.  We were planning a raid on it right before Nadii’ya and I left, actually.”

Pallu:  “Did… did you find out where it was?”

Tobiah:  “Of course.  I was a Raiding Party Commander back home.  It’s actually not too far from here, now that I think about it.  Want me to give you directions?”

Rubati:   “WooHoo is weird, right?  Like, so strange how we get in the bed and you put your censored bits with my censored bits!  Is it weird, or is it just me?”

Noel: “So, like, WooHoo, amirite???”

Tobiah:  “Everybody, look how pretty!”

Gandu:  “Not really the most interesting thing going on at the Fishin’ Hole right now, bud…”

Tobiah:  “I think it’s just a little bit rude of Saphir to proposition Noel right there in front Kimba.  I mean she’s literally right there.”  

Junia:  “Why would that be rude?  Noel and Kimba both know that their partnership isn’t based on exclusively WooHooing each other.”

Tobiah:  “Sure, Nadii’ya and I feel the same way.  But that still doesn’t mean I’d want to SEE it happening, right in front of me!  Saphir’s not being brave, she’s being brazen!”

Junia:  “Hold on, how is it all Saphir’s fault?  It takes two to woo, boo.  If Saphir’s being ‘brazen,’ Noel’s being just as bad.”

Tobiah:  “Everyone expects it of Noel, but Saphir should know better!”

Junia:  “Do you hear yourself?  Of course we expect it of Noel - so does Kimba, you idiot!  She knew he was a major horndog when she decided to partner with him!  This is just the way things are!”

Kimba:  “I heard you were talking about me?  Don’t talk about what you don’t know about, Tobiah.  I don’t need anyone else to defend me, and I DEFINITELY don’t need to be protected from Noel.  So butt out.”

Tobiah:  “All I did was - ”

Kimba:  “Butt.  Out.”

Tobiah:  “Every time I see your face, it makes me angry all over again!  Just stay away from me!”

Kimba:  “Then why did you even come here?!”

Tobiah:  “Because… because… to support… because… birthday… Noel… Gaia… UGHHH just leave me alone!”

Noel:  “Everybody looking??”

Tobiah:  “Stop! Standing! Next! To me!!!”

Tobiah:  “Oh, Chipmunk, Dada’s sorry about tonight.  I’m not proud that you saw me like that.  When you’re older, maybe you’ll understand.  Sometimes sims have so many emotions at the same time that they don’t realize what they’re doing or saying to other sims.  I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.  Ms. Kimba is really a very good sim, but it makes me so confused and frustrated to think… you know what, I’ll tell you when you’re older.  Just be nice to Ms. Kimba whenever you see her, okay?”

Linus: “Okay, Dada.”

Gandu: “Did you know the Creator made me attracted to all brown-haired Sims, and that’s like, half the village?  Turns out I want to make out with just, like, everybody.” Rubati:  “…Interesting… everybody?  I never thought about kissing… everybody.”

Gandu:  “Sometimes it can be hard to tell another Sim you want to kiss them, especially for a Sim as shy as you.  Maybe it would help if you could feel like you weren’t really being yourself.  Like, you’re from the Green Eyes lands.  From what you’ve told me about it so far, you were raised not to kiss a lot of different Sims.  So just pretend you are a Sim who isn’t from the Green Eyes lands.”

Rubati:  “But… my eyes ARE green, Gandu.”

Tammuz:  “I was having the most interesting dream, I was on a date - with you, of course - and I was - I mean, we were - running after a deer, and it kept darting this way and that, and then it reached a stream and I couldn’t make the jump across it but Ga- you could, and the deer was getting away and you were telling me to come on and jump over but I couldn’t, I just couldn’t make it over.”

Lehabim:  “Saph, I’m really really sorry about before, I didn’t mean to make you think I want to rule this land with an iron fist - or any fist at all.  I want this to be a place where Sims want to come and live their lives and I think I’m the one with the best ideas to make that happen, and I know with you by my side we’ll make it happen together, and I don’t ever want to do anything to hurt you or scare you.”

Kimba:  “Have you tried summoning the dee- spirit with music?  Noel is always talking about how powerful the magic of music is.”

A Voice on the Wind: ♫ Spirits, Spirits, in the trees ♫ please come out and talk to meee ♫ I have needs and you have powers ♫ If you help me I’ll give you flowers ♫ Spirits, Spirits in the trees ♫ let me indebt myself to theeeeee ♫

.

T̲̟͔͍͙̘͖ͣ̽͒h̩̣̱͋ͧ̈ͪͨͨ́̚i̩̜̗͔̖̮͎ͣ̃̂̆͊̀̆ͮ̀s̞̯͕͍̟͎̞̦̓̓͋̀̽̐͑ ̭̳̲̲̿ͧ͊̌ͮͨc̥͈̼̺̎̇͑ͨͬ̑o̗̲͕̘ͥͫu̲̝̩͊͆͊̔ͫ̓̌̀l̦̟̭̍͌͐d̙̑͊ ̮̟̠̼͊̈̊͊ͣ̓ͧ̀b̻̲̺̝͂̂ͥ̚ͅḛ̲̮̗ͦͥ̓̿ ͈̞̯̗̭̠̬ͬͩ̊̈́̍͌̿̄f̼̹͚̲̐ͧ̍̑̽ű̹͔͑ͭ̓n̫̰̣̈ͩ̽̐̾͆

.

Noel:  “Everybody, I have to warn you to be on the lookout for ogres, or demons, or any other evil spirits of the forest… I don’t want to point any fingers - so I won’t tell you which person not sitting at this table tried to summon the supernatural today without help from me or Rubati… and so it probably wasn’t successful, of course.  But.  Just in case.  Be on the lookout, and come get me immediately if you see anything out of the ordinary.”

Dan:  “Lehabim of the Golden Eyes, the sound of my true name cannot be heard nor comprehended on this mortal plane.  Suffice it to say that I am the one who can make all your dreams come true, so long as it pleases me to do so.  Do you want riches?  Unfathomable riches?  I can make you so prosperous your mind would explode.  Power?  Dominion over this forest and all its minor creatures, dominion over your fellow sims, even unto Death itself?  Speak it, and we shall see whether I want to make it so.”

Lehabim:  “I mean, that all sounds really great, and I’d love to talk over my ideas for the village with you, but, seriously, what do I call you?  It feels weird not having a way to address you.”

Dan:  ::huff::  “Fine.  You may call me Dan.”

Lehabim:  “Dan, can I ask you something?  Are there really ogres in the forest?  It would be a huge help if we knew exactly what threats to be on the lookout for.”

Dan:  “Ogres, elves, tomatoes, toh-mah-toes.”

Nadii’ya:  “Do you ever wonder if you’ll be able to remember all the names of the new babies?” Tobiah:  “Probably.  Eventually.  I mean, I really only need to know our kid’s name at first, right?  I’m sure I’ll pick up the rest in time.” Nadii’ya:  “…what if we have twins?” Tobiah:  “Uhhhhhh.  Then, uh oh, I suppose.”

Pallu:  “So, which one is this, again?”

Stachia:  “Darah.  I think Darah.  I think we decided if you always do everything for Darah, and I always do everything for Hasrah, then we’ll never get them confused.”

Pallu:  “Right, right right right.  Okay.  Darah for Daddy and Hasrah for Mommy.  Makes sense.  We’ve got this, Stach.  We each do a diaper, we each do a cuddle, we each put one down for a nap… they’ll be toddlers in no time.”

Tammuz:  “Thanks for being here, Japhia.  I didn’t even know how much I missed you.”

Nadii’ya:  “Look at you!  How did you fit inside me?!  You look like a Linus.  Your father missed the whole birth, so he doesn’t get a say.  And I say, you look like a Linus.  Hello, Linus, who’s the biggest baby to come out of the tiniest mommy?  You are!  Yes, you are!”

Noel:  “Kimba!  You’ve done it!  You’ve birthed the most perfect bundle of perfection I’ve ever seen!  Can I name her?  Please, pretty please?  I promise you’ll like what I pick!”

Kimba:  “Ok, wha-”

Noel:  “GAIA!  The mother of the world!”

Kimba:  “That’s a lot of pressure to put on one little baby, Noel.  You sure?”

Noel:  “Gaia!  I can feel the Creator whispering it in my ear.  Gaia, the first goddess. Gaia, the progenitor of the entire future. Gaia, the mother of all simulated life.“

Kimba;  “Yeah, you’re right, that’s no pressure at all, love.  I’m sure she’ll turn out just fine.  Gaia it is, then.”

Saphir:  “Tziviah, shhhhh shhh shhhh!  Time for sleep, little doe!  I’ll be right here next to you the whole time, and when the sun comes up, we’ll start your first day on this crazy plane of semi-existence!  I have so many things I didn’t even know I wanted to teach you!”

Rubati:  Literally WHAT have I gotten myself into??

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Super: Super Hero

I guess I should provide my hottt takes on the new DBS movie.  A few days ago, they did this video for Comic Con announcing the title of the movie and teasing some details about the story.  

I gotta say, this is exactly why I’ve never had any interest in Comic Con.    They put this on YouTube, I guess because of the pandemic, but any other year they would have gathered an enormous crowd and made them stand in line for hours to watch all of this in person.   I live in the Midwest, and when I went to comic book conventions it was for the sole purpose of rummaging through back issue bins.   SDCC was always promoted like the biggest and most important convention in the U.S., but all I ever heard about it were trailers for movies and TV shows.   Or, like, you had to go to Comic Con because that was the only way to get an exclusive Orange Lantern Hal Jordan action figure or something.   They would always hype up all of this useless stuff and I just never heard of anything so important that I was willing to fly out to San Diego and stand in line for three hours for it.   So now SDCC peels back the curtain with this video, about something I’m fairly interested in, but it’s really not that big a deal.  I found out most of the information on Twitter before I even knew to watch this video.

But I’m just not that hyped about trailers or sneak peaks or sneak peaks at trailers.   Which is probably why I waited this long to talk about it.  

I’ll just go through the video.   The first four minutes are Hironobu Kageyama performing “Cha La HEAD Cha La” live on the stage.   That’s a pretty epic way to open this, but I feel like it oversells the importance of this event.  You finish watching him and you think you’re about to see the movie itself, instead of hearing from the people who made it.  

Next we have Sascha, the host of this panel.   He speaks better English than I do, but I’m not sure what the point was in having any of this in English since he has to talk to the guests in Japanese.   Pretty much all of the important information in this video is in Japanese, and I think everyone understood that going in.   I guess it does give an international feel.  If I spoke another language as fluently as Sascha, I’d want to show it off too.

4:56 is where Masako Nozawa comes out, and she’s just a joy to watch.   She looks like this sweet grandmotherly figure, all warm smiles and then she busts out “Ossu! Ora Goku!” and immediately sounds like a badass. 

Guest #2 is Akio Iyoku, Toriyama’s editor.   Not to be confused with the awesome editor who poo-pooed all the androids and Cell’s semiperfect form.    That was Yu Kondo.  Iyoku comes out dressed like Goku, but he can’t talk like him so he’s immediately second-tier. 

Guest #3 is Norohiro Hayashida, Producer from Toei Anaimation.   He is also rocking the Goku cosplay, which would be a faux pas in most fandoms, but he can just say that he’s cosplaying as Krillin or Yamcha, which gives him greater nerd credibility because those are more obscure references.

Around 8:30 we really start getting into this, and they show us a model sheet of Piccolo.  Is Piccolo being in the new movie a big surprise?   He had a dry spell in the mid-90s, but he’s been in every Dragon Ball movie made in this century so far.   And it’s not like they changed his look, like when they put Goku and Vegeta in those adorable coats last time.   I’m not complaining about any of this.  It’s nice to see that a) Piccolo is confirmed for new movie and b) they didn’t tinker with his appearance.  

All I’m saying is that they only brought up this model sheet to show off how they’re using his color scheme from the manga as opposed to the anime.   Hence the red belt and the yellower arm sections.   In the anime, the belt was always blue, and his biceps were hot pink instead of off-yellow.   But it’s such a subtle thing that even Sascha didn’t pick up on it.   It’s like they were hyping up the fact that it’s such a minor change.    I like it, don’t get me wrong, but it’s a weird flex.   Also, he looks like he still has his five-fingered anime hands, so I’m not that impressed.   Give us four fingers, Toei!

Sascha asks Masako Nozawa what she thinks about Piccolo and she just starts off with “He was Gohan’s teacher,” and talks about how strong and cool he looks.    She speaks of him like he’s a family member, because she’s awesome.

Next up, we have Pan, and now we’re talking.  The scuttlebutt is that this was the character Toriyama was referring to when he spoke of an “unexpected character”.  And I guess Pan fits the bill, since I don’t think anyone expected her to be this old in the movie.   I understand this is her kindergarten uniform, so she’d have to be about five or six years old.  I love Masako Nozawa’s reaction here.   Throughout this video, you can see that Goku and Gohan aren’t just roles to her.   

I’ll put on my fanboy hat here and point out that Pan’s age may imply that this movie takes place after the final episode of Dragon Ball Z.    She looks older here than she did when she fought Wild Tiger, at any rate.   So far, the entire Dragon Ball Super franchise has been set during the ten-year gap between the Buu crisis and the finale of Z.    So everyone has been wondering if DBS would move beyond End of Z, or whether Akira Toriyama even still recognizes the continuity of those final chapters.   They were supposed to be ten years of peace, but all the battles in DBS say otherwise.   Also, I’m pretty sure Pan and Bulla’s ages in the DBZ finale don’t line up well with their appearances in Super, but I’ve never studied it very closely.  

So this might be set post End of Z, or this might be Toriyama retconning End of Z altogether.  I’m interested to see which way this goes. 

Here’s Krillin, still working for the police, although his uniform looks more like Bronze Age Lex Luthor than anything else. Like Piccolo, the “big” story here is that he’s been tweaked to resemble the coloring in the manga, so his sclera are now white instead of fleshtoned.  

Never mind that, here’s Piccolo’s house.  This is probably the breakout star of this video, because I think everybody is excited to see Piccolo’s house.   Because it’s new lore!  No one even knew if he had one or not.   It was a running gag in DBZ Abridged that he was homeless.   I mean, congratulations to Krillin for getting his eyes colored in right, but that doesn’t tell me anything new about the character.  But Piccolo’s house is a big friggin’ deal.   What’s inside of there?  What’s on the second floor?   Check out his mailbox.   What kind of mail does he get?  It’s exciting.  

Nozawa even points out that she and her co-workers would talk about this sort of thing in the recording studio.    That’s a big deal to me, that the voice actors think about the same kind of stuff that I do as a fan.   

Around 15:30, they start talking about Toriyama’s commitment to the making of this movie, which seems like a weird thing to focus on, because he wrote the screenplay to the last two movies.   Did anyone think he was stepping back? I get the impression that there’s still some hard feelings about the failure of Dragon Ball Evolution, in the sense that they want to reassure everyone that we’re still in good hands.   I suppose one of these days, Toriyama won’t be as heavily involved in a project like this, so maybe it makes sense for Toei and Shueisha to make it clear that today is not that day.

On the other hand, Toriyama was just as involved with Broly as he was with Resurrection F, and Broly was a much better film.  The Dragon Ball Super manga seems to have revived the old argument over who’s to blame when the story is a letdown, and I think that misses the point.  Look, the Zamasu arc sucked, and I don’t care who wrote what parts, or whether Toriyama had a bad idea or whether he handed a good idea off that was badly executed.   They can hash that out behind the scenes if they want to.  

About 19 minutes in, they show us this model sheet, and refuse to explain who these guys are or what they’re doing in the movie.   Are they villains?  Who knows?  I’d like to think they’re important characters to the story, but I have my doubts that Krillin will have a big part to play.  

At 20 minutes, they announce the title of the movie, and I’m not very thrilled with “Dragon Ball Super: Super Hero.” They can talk it up as much as they want, and maybe the title is relevant to the plot, but it’s just too many uses of the word “super”.   Especially when they’ve got another series called “Super Dragon Ball Heroes” on YouTube. 

Then we get this teaser trailer, or whatever you want to call it, with a CG Goku hopping around and doing his classic fighting pose.  Now, for some reason, lots of people concluded that this means the entire movie will be done in this CG style, which has led to a debate over whether or not that’s a good thing.  If they can make the whole movie look this slick, then I’m fine with it.  Hell, I’m not picky.   They could animate the whole thing in Yukio Ebisawa style, and I’d be thrilled. 

But I’m not understanding where people got the idea that it’s definitely going to be a 100% CGI movie.   They never spell that out in this video, and they even go out of their way to admit that this shot of Goku isn’t actually from the movie.   So is there some other source people are referring to, or did everyone just jump to conclusions?  

And that’s pretty much it.   I don’t mean to sound negative on this panel, but I don’t feel like they revealed very much, unless this is actually going to turn out to be Piccolo and Pan having an adventure by themselves.    I think Toei could make a movie like that and it would be a success, but I have my doubts that they’d go in that direction.  If this is going to turn out to be another big slugfest with Vegeta, then I’m down for that too, but don’t show me Piccolo’s house if the movie’s going to be about Vegeta punching a guy. 

Bottom line: I’m still looking forward to this, but I don’t feel like I know much more about the movie than I did before.   Well, except for the part about Piccolo’s house.  I’m looking forward to seeing the inside of it.

[rosesgonerogue]

Let the Sunshine In - Chapter One

AO3

Three Years Later

Awareness came in waves. There was a constant drumming that was enough to drive someone insane, as well as someone breathing heavily. It sounded wrong, and even worse, it felt wrong. For some reason it gave him the visceral urge--no, the need to hurt, to maim, to kill.

After the sound came the pain, the feeling of needles dancing across his skin, of circulation resuming in disused limbs. Soon after came the smell of sulfur, of something rotten. Finally a toxic green light filtered into his vision, the unnatural shade looking infinitely distasteful. 

What was this? Where was he? His mind felt broken, fractured--the information he needed was all there, somewhere, the pieces just didn’t fit together, and it pissed him off. 

He was in some kind of disgusting, green water, and outside the water a whole host of people waited. The pounding grew faster as his eyes flicked around. A part of him swore to find whoever was responsible for the drumming  and acquaint their face with a wall. 

“-odd, we simply want to--”

“Who the hell are you?” The extremely rusty voice surprised him. It was his. Something about that felt important. “What happened, where am I?” 

“You are Jason Todd,” a stern man said primly. “And I am R’as al Ghul, an acquaintance of your previous mentor. We are at the Lazarus Pits.” 

The pounding got louder and he--Jason--clenched his fists, ready to kill someone to make the heartbeat sto--

Heartbeat. It was his heartbeat. 

The heartbeat he shouldn’t have. 

A rush of memories assaulted his brain; a crowbar descending, unhinged laughter, an explosion, but most of all, pain. Pain and fear. 

This wasn't right. His hands sank into his hair, ready to pull it out as he stumbled backwards, unable to process everything. He was dead--or he should be. He wanted to still be dead. 

The man, Ra’s, advanced, speaking calmly and slowly, like Jason was a wild animal. “If you would follow me, we can--”

Jason rushed the man with a strangled cry, bludgeoning the man with his fists, elbows, feet, fighting however he could. He heard a few distinct snaps, but he didn’t stop until the man was a bloody mess at his feet. 

He still quivered with rage, his entire body feeling like it was about to explode. 

“You should have left me dead,” he growled before barrelling through the mass of people that moved to surround him. His feet carried him out of the cave he had been in and out into the night that waited. After being dead, apparently even starlight was a little bright for his eyes--if it had been daylight, he might have just gone blind right then. 

Something inside him dictated where his feet carried him. He felt a distinct pull to… something. It felt important, so Jason began trudging along. 

**************

“I think that’s the last box, sweetie,” Sabine said, following her husband in. 

“Thank you guys for helping so much, it really means a lot,” Marinette said with a smile to her parents. 

Tom set the box down carefully, eyes already filled with tears. “I can’t believe my little girl has a place of her own. It seems like just yesterday I was teaching her to make macarons for the first time.” 

“Oh, don’t you start crying, Tom, or I’ll start crying too,” Sabine said, swatting her husband with a sniff. 

In a few short weeks Marinette would be starting her studies at the best fashion program in all of Europe. Like many of her classmates, she was staying in Paris for at least the near future. She had originally planned on staying at her parents’ house for at least the first year of the program, but the perfect opportunity presented itself, and Marinette just couldn’t say no. 

Marinette’s beloved grandmother, Gina, had decided to bike around the world. This was pretty much how she spent her life anyway, but now her granddaughter was legally an adult, which meant she could grant said granddaughter some much needed freedom. 

Despite how little time Gina actually spent in Paris, she was the proud owner of an adorable little house. She had already willed the house over to her fairy, but now she could tell Marinette to move in under the pretense of having her house-sit. Gina paid for the utilities still, and her only stipulation was that Marinette had to keep a room clean and ready for her, should Gina show up unexpectedly. 

The thought of having her own house, free of charge, even, was mind-boggling, but at the same time it was everything Marinette hadn’t known she needed. There was the natural yearning all young adults had to try things on their own, but this solutions came with the ultimate safety net. Even more importantly, it came with the privacy that she desperately needed. 

While she waited for her program to begin, Marinette had spent the majority of her time at the bakery. It was fun, being with her parents and taking care of deliveries whenever Luka had a gig. It also made keeping a secret identity secret nearly impossible. This way Marinette was still close enough to help at the bakery when she needed to, but her parents weren’t constantly barging in at inopportune moments. 

As they set up, somehow her things fit in perfectly alongside Gina’s like it was meant to be. The last thing the family had to do was go grocery shopping so Marinette had something to eat  other than the copious amounts of pastries her parents had forced on her. 

When the deed was done, it was time for her parents to leave, even though none of them were really quite ready for that. 

“You’re not used to being alone,” Sabine fussed. “Are you sure you don’t want to spend just one more night at home?” 

“Or we could spend the night here with you,” Tom said hopefully. 

“No, I’ll be fine,” Marinette said with a smile. “I’ll be sad, but we’ve got to start somewhere, right?” 

Staring at his daughter, Tom couldn’t hold it in any longer-- he started crying. “Don’t forget to call us, sweetheart, and write too! We’ll be waiting to hear from you.” 

“Tom, she’s moving twelve blocks away. If she doesn’t have time to visit us, we can just pop in on her, right?” 

“Right,” Marinette confirmed, eyes completely dry. “I’ll make sure to visit often.”

Finally she was able to bid farewell to her parents, closing the door to her house behind them. She milled around looking for something to do, finally settling on turning the TV on for background noise and getting to work on her latest commision. 

Just as she was getting into the groove and making real progress, Marinette’s phone rang. She sighed, finishing the last little bit of handwork on that section before answering the video call. 

“My little Marinetta, how are you?” Gina asked. As far as Marinette could tell, her grandmother was somewhere tropical at the moment. Where exactly was anyone’s guess. 

“Good, Nona, just getting settled in!” 

“Are you just sitting around at home?” she asked suspiciously. 

“No, I’m working on a commission and--”

“I didn’t leave you the house to just sit around, my fairy. You need to be young and free, even if it’s only occasionally. This is your first place of your own, so go celebrate! Go out to dinner, go get ice cream, find a party to go to, I don’t care, just go do something!” Gina commanded. 

“Yes, Nona,” Marinette said, knowing it was useless to resist. 

“I’ll be waiting to see a picture of whatever you do,” Gina said firmly. 

“Yes, Nona.” 

Gina kept chatting for a while longer, but before she hung up, she reminded Marinette one more time that she needed to go celebrate somehow. Afterwards Marinette attempted to keep working on her commision, but it was fruitless knowing that her Nona expected her to go have fun. 

Even though they had just bought groceries, Marinette didn’t really feel like cooking after all the day’s activities, so she decided to walk over to one of her favorite cafes. It was a ways away, but she didn’t have much else to do with her time, so she decided to simply enjoy the weather. She ate a light dinner at one of the outside tables, made sure to send a picture of it to Nona, and once she was finished, she swung by one of the nearby farmer’s markets on impulse. Yes, she had the groceries she had gotten earlier, but no grocery store could beat fresh produce like this. 

The farmer’s market was closing soon, which meant that a good majority of the things that were high in demand were already sold out. There was one vendor that had one frozen chicken that she really didn’t want to take back home, so Marinette got a really good price on it.

It was nearing dusk as she made her way back to the house, but she couldn’t help but feel uneasy. There was something in the air that just felt wrong. It was kind of similar to the feeling she got from akumas, but also not. It was familiar, but twisted, corrupted inextricably. As she walked the feeling only got worse, and Marinette didn’t know if she should go find out what it was, or if she should just run away as fast as she could.

In the end, the urge to investigate won out. She was Ladybug, it was her responsibility to see to the safety of Paris as a whole. On edge from the unsettling feeling, Marinette moved through the streets discreetly and carefully. 

Her instincts took her to the opening of an alleyway in a fairly quiet part of town. The feeling of wrongness was pervasive as she edged forward. It took everything in her not to gasp at what she saw. 

A boy who looked about her age stood at the back of the alley was surrounded by three cloaked assailants. He could almost be mistaken for an akuma because he didn’t actually wear clothes, he was only covered by ragged bandages, almost like a mummy. The poor boy was gaunt, he looked like he was only a few steps away from death. He couldn’t be an akuma, because in all this time, Marinette had never seen one so feral. 

“I have to help him,” Marinette whispered, hand tightening on the handle of the bag her chicken was in. “Tikki, spo-”

“No Marinette!” Tikki hissed waving her arms frantically. “Don’t transform. We should leave, this is dangerous.” 

“What are you talking about, Tikki? That boy clearly needs help.” Marinette’s claim was only emphasized when one of the assailants drew a sword-- and actual sword being used by someone who was not akumatized. 

“If you transform he’ll hurt you! We really should leave,” Tikki said, trying to pull her away. “I’ll explain at home, but we need to leave.” 

Something about the boy was deeply unnerving to Marinette. His very existence felt wrong. But something about this made her think of Robin, who she hadn’t allowed herself to think about for quite some time now. 

“No,” she said with steel in her voice. “I’m not abandoning someone who is scared and alone.”

“Marinette, you’ll get hurt!” 

“Not if I’m lucky,” the girl said with a smile that held far too much venom. 

The boy was already faltering when Marinette entered the alleyway. His eyes latched onto her for the briefest of moments, but that only caused for one of the assailants to get even closer, knife grazing the boy’s arm. 

Years of being Ladybug had taught Marinette to move nearly silently, as well as where to hit to take down an opponent quickly. The first man was taken down by sheer luck--she somehow managed to hit the pressure point at the juncture of his neck despite being hooded. He fell down, immediately unconscious from her assault. The one who didn’t have a knife in hand glanced over, only to be met face first with a swinging frozen chicken. 

By the time the third man turned to see her, the chicken was already swinging to knock the knife out of the man’s hand, potentially breaking some fingers as it swung. Marinette had already cracked the man across the face before the knife had clattered to the ground, leaving only her and the boy conscious in the alleyway. 

He looked at her with crazed blue eyes, his pupils blown as he fixated on her. “You!” he snarled, leaping forward. “You had something to do with this!”

“No, I just wanted to help, let me--”

Before Marinette had to do anything in the way of restraining him, the strange boy staggered forward a few unsteady steps before collapsing right onto her. She hadn’t noticed the way that he towered over her before, but supporting his entire body weight helped her realize just how absurdly large this boy was. With that in mind, she should probably stop mentally referring to him as a boy. 

“Marinette, this is really dangerous. He could hurt you, he already tried to!” Tikki said, once again trying to pull her away. 

“Tikki, he needs my help,” Marinette said, stubbornly shouldering the boy. “I’ll keep myself safe, but I won’t leave him here!” 

“You promise you’ll do everything you can to keep yourself safe?” Tikki asked, eyes baring into Marinette’s soul. 

“I swear.” 

“Fine,” Tikki sighed, wilting a bit. “Go ahead and transform, it will be easier and faster to carry everything that way.”

*********************

Be warned, this is just going to be me ranting about Batman lore for far too long. 

Okay, so even in AUs like this that are clearly distanced from canon, I like to research and make it as close to canon as possible. For those of you that don’t know, doing research on anything related to Batman is a MESS. I’ve read “Death in the Family,” the original Batman issue where Jason dies, I’ve watched “Under the Red Hood,” just because I wanted to get a really good sense of Jason and what the whole alive again experience was like for him. I also looked into the Lazarus Pits for placement questions, and apparently there are little Lazarus pits all over the world, including in Switzerland. Switzerland is close enough to France that I just went with it. 

Now for the part that REALLY kills me. I recently also watched Son of Batman, and in it, Ra’s is killed, but apparently he was too dead for the Lazarus Pits to work. However, upon looking into Jason, it is revealed that he was brought back to life after being dead for a few YEARS. I’m not even going to go into the fact that Jason’s body was complete even though he died not by crowbar, but by an explosion. I’m not touching that. Additionally, Jason was still really short and pretty scrawny  from being malnourished when he died, and he somehow comes back as a beefy twenty-something year old. 

TLDR; the Batman canon is a mess, so when writing fanfiction I can do what I want and it’s still canon compliant.

Let me know what you guys think!

Taglist: 

@cravethosecrazysquares @krispydefendorpolice @thesunanditsangel @sonif50 @kris-pines04 @persephonebutkore @tbehartoo @corabeth11 @caffeinetheory @drarryismylife101 @bluerosette23 @weird-pale-blonde-person @mystery-5-5 @heaven428 @thethirdwheelfriend @thetinymoonflower @interobanginyourmom @chocolate1721 @akana-sama @skyel0ve @katiegardneriscoolerthanyou @theatreandcomicfreak @jardimazul @karategirl119 @thewondersoflebanon @tbehartoo @shizukiryuu @northernbluetongue @moonlightstar64 @naoryllis @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @saphiraazure2708 @yokizu @jeminiikrystal @chocolatecatstheron @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @zalladane @slytherinsheashire @bran-thecreeper-stark @otaku4312 @emotionalsupportginger @dorkus-minimus @18-fandoms-unite-08 @tired-butterfly @bamagirl513 @pauliestorylover @alenee13 @ladybug-182 @senpaiweird @kalligraphics @jessigurl-design @emeraldpuffguide @veunnotvuen @storyteller-d @g-arya @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @procrastinatingrightnow @sturchling @dast218 @trashystar420 @indecisive-mess-named-me @awesome-starfish-and-tacos

[meatmarionette]

5, 6, 12, 17, 19, 21, 37, 44, 49, 61, 62 any or all! for whoever you’d like! 💕

hi thank u so much king.

5. do they follow a higher power? what are their thoughts on divinity?

this first one got really long lmfao. the others are a little shorter bear with me.

skit is funny because for all her "i'm a revolutionary" shtick she has pretty orthodox and also vaguely chauvinistic views on religion. she still believes that the Boar, Sovereign is the last living god which is funny because skit has now very much been to the celestial plane. but in her head she's like, ok, well, those are divine beings, they might be gods but they're not really thee Gods, like, the originals, so. only the Boar, Sovereign is God. and we need to kill that thing btw.

Skit is both religious and very sacrilegious in the way that most people from Seapink are. she fears the Boar, Sovereign because she's afraid to die, which i guess is a kind of reverence? but she also fully buys into the whole "time of the gods is over" thing, which kind of grinds reverence under the boot. skit hates the idea of a divine higher power exerting influence on her life. she only wants sexy tyrannical women to do that.

as for amandine, yes she is a cleric yes she is the only "living" devotee of the Boar, Sovereign, but amandine kind of isn’t religious in a traditional sense. she very much views 'religion' as like, comparable to duty to her mom...... (starts coughing). her connection to the divine is very deep and very important to her but also mundane. amandine is mildly to moderately afraid of her God, as she was of her real mother. her relationship with the Divine isn't... completely lateral, but maybe the word is familiar. amandine and her God are a lot closer than if she had been an acolyte of some deity in some church somewhere, mostly because of their closeness and onlyness to one another

but! a crucial thing informing how amandine views God / divinity is the fact that the Boar is not a god that can just take a human form and chat; She’s a manifestation of the Natural, and in many ways, a wild animal. i don’t think She and amandine can ever fully communicate and understand each other. they're both at peace with that, but because of this, i think its unclear to what degree amandine's ideas about the Boar as a God are projections onto this huge unknowable ancient inhuman Being.

for ex, the Boar taught amandine to find people who were near death out there in the forest and do a little rite to commit their bodies back to the earth and their souls to the Boar. but i think it was amandine who started trying to heal the ones  who she felt could be saved. the Boar didn't stop her, which amandine took as a sign of approval, but it just as easily could have been indifference. to a god, especially one as old and weary as the Boar, what do a few years or decades matter? they're going to die eventually :)

i genuinely don't know if the Boar, Sovereign actually cares about merciful death. She might? amandine thinks She does. The Boar definitely isn’t the malevolent bogeyman that She’s painted as in Seapink culture, but i think the value judgement of mercy is in some ways very human. possibly amandine saw that the Boar, Sovereign did not relish in killing or kill gratuitously, but instead took those who were already dying and ended their suffering. and amandine saw in that mercy instead of pragmatism, because that was what she wanted to see. so it’s anyone's guess what part of amandine’s religion is just amandine and what is the Boar, where that line is, if there is one

all that matters is that amandine trusts her God, loves Her and wants to please Her, and feels, maybe, that the Boar, Sovereign, in Her way, cares about amandine. but also... there's this other shoe that’s gonna drop one day.... the matter of coming back to life the Way She Did. meeting altair has planted a ghost of a thought in amandine’s head that she cannot consciously think about yet. the matter of why altair came back 'right' and amandine came back 'wrong'. the matter of why did the Boar did not tell amandine that she was dead. so that’s gonna be fun

6. which party member do they relate to the most?

for skit it was gaerokas, but honorable mention to sena because she and skit came from a sort of similar place and had compatible politics, and sena reminded her of her sister. other honorable mention to nethal for being skit’s intolerable mirror <3

for amandine it's definitely altair. undead bffs. honorable mention to ahe (amandine ahe 🤝quest for closure, devotion to a villainized god), and, interestingly also garo. garo amandine 🤝being lost in the woods for a long time, being the ghost in ghost stories told about them (which amandine doesn’t know about so i guess it doesn’t count) and having a fairly private but profound connection to God/nature. their clash in personalities and loyalties tends to get in the way of amandine seeing the overlap there. but that’s starting to change i think. also we will see how this plays out but i have a feeling that the more amandine remembers about her life before, the more she will relate to n’ethal actually.amandine nethal 🤝growing up privileged, Vhurask and Lady Iris being Like That

12. have they ever been in love?

skit is obviously in love with myev, and i think she was maybe in love with daya too? possibly? but it was complicated. amandine has not. yet.

17. what do they dream about, when their dreams are their own?

amandine doesn’t really dream anymore. she stopped sleeping mostly because of her dreams. amandine used to dream about dying, even if she didn’t realize that that was what it was for a long time. it was all distorted and hazy and amandine is missing huge chunks of memory so her mind free-form fictionalized to fill in what wasn’t there. she couldn’t make sense of it, only relive the sensations :) which were unpleasant :)

skit has two main genres of recurring dreams. one is redacted, and she doesn’t really dream about it that much anymore. in the other, there are two of her and the other skit is psychologically tormenting her. OR she’s tormenting the other skit. it isn’t clear

19. what haunts them? what doesn’t?

skit is obviously haunted by redacted, but she’s also haunted by what happened to vega, but also what she saw starting to happen to sena, who had been so lighthearted and trusting at the beginning :( she’s also haunted by when her sister was conscripted, and the fact that her dad almost died in the war. i don't think failing to prevent the apocalypse really haunts skit that much. she's like. well we ALMOST stopped them.... and WE didn't open those portals. so. but she is haunted by what happened to senele (i think that was its name? ahe's town that burned). but she’s not haunted by leaving Val in the celestial plane 😔

amandine is haunted by the flickers of memory from before her death and the flickers of memory or the dream distortions, whichever they are, of her death. amandine is haunted by her reflection. amandine is occasionally haunted by gaerokas. amandine is, now, also haunted by her mother's face and the memory of how she felt in the company of her mother. she isn’t haunted by the lives she's taken or all the bones and bodily fluids and entrails she's seen. i think the only body that haunts her is her own

21. do they follow their head, their heart, or their body?

skit: head and heart

amandine: body and heart

37. what is their favorite thing to hold?

for skit its uhh myev. for amandine, i feel like she's someone who reaches out for people a lot and likes to take her friend’s shoulders or rest a hand on their back or grab their hands (when they are ok with it). it's kind of a grounding thing and helps her feel less lonely. she is also comforted by holding fauchet, who is soft even if he unnerves her

44. what do they need to learn?

god where do i START.

i think the main thing skit needs to learn is how to look at herself -- who she really is without the smoke and the mirrors and the masks -- with self-compassion and honesty. skit also desperately needs to learn to communicate and be vulnerable with other people, to ask for help when she is afraid and overwhelmed. i think beginning to repair her toxic relationship with herself and letting people see her will massively help her feel more secure in her relationships, treat others with more kindness, and maybe, one day, face her problems instead of running from them. this is my sincere wish for her. skit is so so terrible but she isn’t irredeemable and i very much want to see her grow ;;

amandine needs to learn uhhh that puppy mills are bad. she also needs to learn how to let people in and ask for help. she’s not as bad as skit, but i do think amandine is scared of seeming weak or useless, and she also struggles to verbalize her thoughts so would sometimes rather not try. also, we haven’t seen this play out much yet because it’s mostly internal, but she does have a problem with internalizing blame for things that aren’t her fault, but also blaming others for things that objectively are her fault. maybe most importantly, amandine needs to learn that her life before was not idyllic and she can’t ever go back. i do think unconsciously lurking in her head all this time has been this feeling like 'oh if i learn who i Am and what happened to me i'll be able to reclaim what i lost and come Back" but... uh.... rip.

they both need to learn how to face their pasts and heal, to build a life that’s no longer chained to What Happened to them

49. what makes them smile?

their friends and loved ones! fucking with people and dancing also makes skit smile. what makes amandine smile is giving friends little trinkets and getting pretty things, going to festivals, being victorious, and Getting a Good Grade in Being a Sort of Dead Sort of Alive Girl

61. what kind of flower would they choose to pick from a meadow?

skit would choose uhhh tacca chantrieri. i’m interpreting the word ‘meadow’ expansively. amandine would of course choose an iris!

62. outside of otherworldly forces, what do they believe in?

skit believes in communism. and Love. kind of. amandine believes in growth from decay, that kind of thing. and friendship :)

[delimeful]

the end of being alone (3)

Ch 1 | Ch 2 |

warning: mentions of fear, crocodiles, discussion of teeth

-

Logan found himself grateful that he’d made arrangements to postpone their other jobs for a bit, because it looked as though they’d be staying firmly on this planet’s surface for a while.

There had been all of one attempt to bring Virgil aboard the Mindscape, and it had resulted in a significant amount of crying from both the child and Patton. Whatever circumstances had led the Human to this planet, it had left them deeply fearful of any sort of spacefaring vessel.

�� This did not annul Logan’s suspicions about smuggling, though he was careful not to say as much in front of Virgil. The child was keen, and any time the fact that they were a Human was mentioned, they withdrew and began displaying body language that Logan believed indicated a desire to flee. Checking that exits were still there, putting space between themself and any of the Mindscape’s crew, anxious tics, and so forth.

Needless to say, they avoided the topic.

However, to Logan’s surprise, the child didn’t seem at all adverse to basic questions about themself. Understanding their responses was rare, of course, but the kid was picking up on Common with a shocking quickness, and Roman had turned out to be rather talented at interpreting their gestures when they didn’t have the right words.

The data that Logan had collected from these inquiries was both strange and intriguing. He’d carefully woven a mental list of it all.

1. Virgil seemed to identify by he/him, though whether that was an actual gender preference or simply a child wanting to be called the same pronouns as the three of them was up for debate. Either way, Logan seriously doubted that there was any way to convey the nebulous concept of gender through a language barrier, so he let the matter lie.

2. After eating too fast, Virgil would convulse slightly in a semi-rhythmic pattern for a short period. He didn’t seem alarmed or pained by this, only slightly irritated when it would interrupt him mid-sentence. The condition of ‘hiccups’ was thankfully temporary, since it made Roman quite jumpy. For their tiny, squeaking nature, Patton had called them ‘hicchirps’, which was ridiculous, but Virgil seemed to enjoy any and all wordplay that made it through his grasp of the language, so Logan stowed his complaints.

3. Virgil was terrified of the locals. Despite being plainly evident, this observation didn’t make sense at first, seeing as the nearby town consisted primarily of native Hiiynal and a few offplanet transfers, none of which could be described as particularly dangerous or violent. After a few days of gentle questioning and no reprimands for not answering, Virgil finally told them that the locals would ‘chase monsters far away’ and so he couldn’t risk getting near. Questioning was temporarily halted in favor of showing the Human the art of shadow symmetry, for purely scientific reasons, of course. 

(Supposition: Human children enjoyed movement games.)

4. While the synthetic meat from the ration kits was accepted by Virgil, he showed a surprising preference for sweeter food items, such as fruit and sugar crystals. Seeing as Humans were rumored to be obligate carnivores or even raw flesh-eaters, this was a strange discrepancy. Virgil had even eaten some of the leafy vegetables Logan had brought, face pinched up in disgust but insisting that eating ‘greens’ would make one tall. It was unclear to Logan what color had to do with nutrients or growth. He was also slightly alarmed at the implication of Virgil being short for his age.

5. Virgil seemed, for all intents and purposes, fixated on Roman.

The latest data point was a work in progress. Logan hadn’t mentioned it to Roman himself, because the Cravon was already fairly worked up over everything the Human did as it was. Nobody seemed sure if this jumpiness was because of the Human child, or on behalf of it.

Still, it was present in little ways. For example, even as he answered Logan’s latest series of questions, his gaze would occasionally flicker up from his hands to Roman, who sat at the mouth of the little cave, carefully peeling more fruit. It wasn’t about the food; Patton had taken it upon himself to make sure the child knew he only had to ask to get something to eat. No, this  ‘almost-staring’ was a frequent occurrence, no matter what Roman preoccupied himself with.

“You were saying you met… Susan… when another predator was attacking it?”

Virgil nodded, hurriedly looking back to his hands. “It was a big bite monster, and Susan was loud crying, so I did, uh,” he lifted his arms up, hands spread wide, “this, and I was loud at it until it ran away. Like raccoons back on Dirt.”

Dirt was apparently Virgil’s name for his home. Logan hadn’t heard of ‘raccoons’ before. He decided not to get sidetracked. “I’d estimate the creature you saw was a Lifel. They are the natural predators of Humlilts.”

“Natural?” Virgil mimicked.

“It means ‘of nature’,” Logan attempted to clarify, gesturing around them. “In the wild.”

Virgil only grew more confused with the wide, encompassing gesture. “Sky? Was not flying.”

Logan glanced at Roman, checking that he was still preoccupied. Patton was back at the ship, contacting a friend for advice. There seemed no better opportunity if he wanted to avoid overwhelming Virgil.

“Virgil, would you like to try something new?” he asked, carefully neutral. It wouldn’t do to put any pressure on the child.

The Human squinted at him slightly, quick to use his most common phrase. “Will it hurt?”

“It will not hurt,” Logan replied, ignoring the tightening in his core with careful practice. It always felt so wrong, that a mere pupa would be so familiar with hurt. “I will always tell you if something might hurt.”

“Mmm.” The Human hummed, the way he always did when they told him such things. Like he wasn’t sure if he could believe it. “What’s it?”

“What is it,” Logan corrected automatically. “It is something I can do, to show you new words. Want to try a little bit, first?” That was the phrase they used for new foods, but it applied well enough to mindsharing.

Virgil clenched and unclenched his hands for a moment longer before nodding, going a little tense like he expected something unpleasant. Logan held a hand out to him, waiting until he’d reached out in return to start sharing.

Small, simple flashes of images and sensations. Quiet forests, shallow oceans, clean air. Plants, bugs, animals, humanoids, living and dying and living again. Nature.

Virgil had pinched his eyes closed immediately at the start of the low-level telepathy, and Logan only had a moment to worry that maybe it had hurt him in some manner.

Then, there was a feeling of recognition. Without a moment to spare, Virgil had grasped the nature of the Vidi and was projecting his own thoughts. Walking on a crunchy leaf-covered trail with other Human young, a winged insect emerging from a cocoon, the crack of thunder and heavy rain on a windowsill. Nature.

“Wow!” Virgil whispered, imprint thoughts flickering like flames, too quick for Logan to really see. “You see into heads!”

Logan pulled back slightly, offering a bit of content-smug in return to the Human’s awe. “That is one way of framing it, yes. So, you understand what I mean, about the Lifel being a natural predator?”

“Carnivore,” Virgil mumbled, and then offered image-thoughts of several creatures that Logan could only assume were from the deathworlder’s home planet. He watched with morbid curiosity as Virgil remembered a clip from a screen, displaying large ungulates with twisting horns crossing a river, and then being dragged underwater by a dark, writhing shape.

“That’s a crocodile,” Virgil told him, his eyes still closed tight in concentration. “They’ve got big teeth and they do death rolls. They look like alligators, but I know they aren’t because gators live in Florida.”

“Florida?” Logan asked. He wondered if perhaps ‘gators’ were kept in captivity for species preservation. Or perhaps they were too dangerous left in the wild?

Virgil showed him a memory of a long, reptilian form with a narrow, tooth-filled jaw. It was wading steadily through a swimming pool, not paying any mind to Virgil, who was sitting with his legs dipped in the pool, watching in fascination. “I lived there!”

“Oh,” Logan managed, his ears going numb with fear at the idea of a child being so near a creature like that. “So it would seem.”

The Human patted him carefully, a gesture of comfort. “It’s okay. The bad guys didn’t take any gators or crocodiles from Dirt. Just people.”

Virgil’s words trailed off, a sense of melancholy overwhelming him. Rather than find out more about the Human’s past, Logan felt an unreasonably strong urge to stop that sadness. “Could you perhaps tell me more about these… ‘crocodiles’? You seem to be quite informed on them.”

“I had a book about them,” Virgil managed, slowly dragging his thoughts away from his abduction. “Did you know some crocodiles have a… a ‘biting force’ of five thousand pounds?”

He had lapsed into English, the sentence sounding well-recited, but Logan still got the general idea of what he meant, and a strong image of a picture book, covered in writing he couldn’t read but still understood. If Logan was right about the measurement conversions, the fact was terrifying.

“That’s very interesting,” he mused, because terrifying and interesting often went hand in hand. “Are there any other predators that can bite like that?”

Virgil scrunched his face up in thought. “Maybe sharks. Oh, but for sure a T. Rex!”

Logan saw a very concerning glimpse of a large fish with too many teeth before Virgil’s mind switched to a cartoon depiction of a larger creature with also too many teeth. He was beginning to see a trend in deathworlder species. “I… see.”

“They’re all dead, though,” Virgil told him sadly, projecting a memory of a huge display of bones. He then seemed to perk up, glancing over at Roman again. “Except for in space!”

Logan narrowly avoided laughing out loud, covering his throat before the vibrating chirps could get far. So, this was the truth behind the Human’s interest!

“Roman is not a ‘dinosaur’,” he clarified, once he felt composed enough to do so. “In fact, I believe he rarely even eats meat.”

Virgil squinted at him. “Are you sure? Maybe he’s a secret dinosaur.”

Logan wiggled his fingers thoughtfully. “I suppose we’ll just have to check.”

---

“Roman, would you come here for a moment?”  

Roman looked up from his task, immediately suspicious. Logan sounded strangely amused, like he was on the brink of laughing at him. That was never a good sign.

Still, the Human was looking over at him with those wide, strange eyes, and he wasn’t about to run away. He got to his feet, leaving his pile of dana peels behind as he crossed the cave floor. “What is it, dear esteemed companion who would never take advantage of me?”

“I need you to show us your teeth,” Logan said, very much not being a dear esteemed companion who would never take advantage of him. Roman resisted the urge to hang his head in resignation. He should have expected this. The Ulgorii was shameless when it came to exploiting his friends for science.

“How about absolutely not?” he replied, because there were actually limits to his tolerance for shenanigans, and one of those limits was threat-displaying at a baby Human.

“Hold on, look,” Logan said, and then bared his own ridged teeth with a click.

The Human did his small grimace-smile back, entirely unphased. They both looked to him expectantly. Roman felt as though he was being ganged up on.

“Um,” Virgil said, painfully tentative, “please?”  

Roman felt extremely ganged up on.

He squatted, tail keeping him perfectly balanced, and pulled at the corner of his mouth to show some of his teeth.

“Woah,” Virgil breathed.

“See how the back teeth are narrow but dull? They’re designed to crack bones and get to the marrow at the center,” Logan narrated, like the nerd he was. “Roman doesn’t have the small incisors or sharp molars required for proper full-time carnivores.”

Roman almost reminded his crewmate to use small words, but Virgil seemed to get the idea, leaning uncomfortably close to stare. He then opened his own mouth, like he was planning to take a bite out of something, displaying a shocking number of tiny little bone-teeth crammed inside. Some of them were uncomfortably sharp.

Rather than attack anyone, though, Virgil touched his own teeth, carefully inspecting the shape of them. Roman resisted the urge to get him to sanitize his hands. Kits would be kits, he supposed.

Logan was patiently watching as Virgil pointed to each tooth in turn, and he obligingly recited the name of each type of tooth for the kit. His two lower arms took frantic notes on Human jaw structure, probably to prepare more elaborate meal plans better suited to a deathworlder diet. The kid soaked every bit of information in like a sponge.

Finally, after a long moment of thought, he announced, “My ‘lower canine’ is going to fall out in close time!”

“Soon,” Logan offered, always quick to interpret the Human’s occasional nonsense Common. “'My lower canine is going to fall out soon.'” And then, after a moment’s pause. “Wait, it’s going to what?”

And then, because Roman’s day needed more nightmare fuel, the kit bared his tiny fangs at them and poked one with his tongue, revealing that it did indeed seem to be sickeningly loose. In fact, Roman could see a few other gaps in the curved row of teeth, some with little bits of bone peeking out.

“Stars above,” Roman said, feeling a little faint. Logan was already interrogating a very confused Virgil on whether or not losing teeth was indicative of an illness or not.

“They’re just my little teeth,” Virgil told them, seemingly unconcerned with holes in his mouth. “I get big ones later.”

“There are plenty of species that have milk teeth, but to have their adult set not fully-formed by the time the milk teeth are ready to fall out…,” Logan quickly devolved into muttering, hands flicking.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” Roman asked despite himself, eyeing the kit just in case he was going to burst into tears all of the sudden. Roman himself had lost one or two front teeth before his next set had fully formed, and each time it had felt like biting on hot metal.

“Nuh-uh.” Virgil seemed to have moved from confused to amused, still not entirely sure what the fuss was all about. “Not unless I,” he mimed pulling on the tooth, and Roman made a click-click-click of parental don’t-do-that chiding before he’d even fully registered the alarm he’d felt at the motion.

Virgil clicked back at him curiously, sounding exactly like a tiny version of an exasperated parent. Roman tucked his face against his shoulder, unsure if he should laugh or despair.

This Human was really going to be the death of him.

[teamhawkeye]

unfiltered and massively spoiler filled thoughts on RE8 below the cut [MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD]:

The Good

The first half of the game

The initial village segment and the castle portion and even “the house in the mist” sections were all pretty taut and well put together. i loved exploring the castle - was more than a little disappointed that you get locked out after Alcina’s boss fight, i didn’t explore it fully D: - and the unexpected terror of Donna’s section really pulled me out of the sense of comfort i had started to fall into, right as i was saying to myself “this hasn’t been scary at all”

The return of some series high notes

Revisiting things in previous Resident Evil games is not always a bad thing. I really enjoyed the return of weapon customization and treasures, those were aspects i enjoyed in RE4 and RE5. The return of the Merchant, in the form of the Duke, was welcome as well. The Duke is a G - he’s a good guy and i respected him most

Graphics, scenery, etc.

It’s a pretty game to look at, there’s no getting around that. I liked the set pieces, especially the Castle portion

Ammo crafting

Now this was something i greatly enjoyed. There are often times you get too much ammo for the gun you use least or you run out of ammo in harder difficulty levels. Being able to collect scrap material and make your own ammo was a very nice addition that i greatly appreciated

The Bad

(some of these are going to be personal opinions about the storytelling and narrative choices, so be prepared for that)

Pacing and direction

RE7 was a return to the series’ “roots”: so back to the footnotes of RE1 and RE2. If that was the case with 7, then RE8 did a speed run of RE3, Code Veronica, RE4, RE5, and RE6 all at once.

I know i said earlier revisiting hallmarks from previous games isn’t a bad thing, and it’s not - but while RE7 did it masterfully with sticking to mainly RE1 and RE2 and pulling in just a few old hallmarks, RE8 went absolutely buck wild in trying to cram in as many past enemy types and encounters as possible. A callback to one standout enemy is one thing, ala the Stalker type that is Mr. X, Nemesis, and Ustanak that Lady Dimitrescu also serves as...but then also the giant water monster from RE4, the Executioner of RE5, the “chainsaw” enemies (here, drills instead) of RE4, RE5, and RE6. hell, even the Lycans after a time started to feel very Las Plagas-esque in their ability to use weapons and track and coordinate. And you can’t tell me you didn’t see very similar designs/similarities between Miranda’s boss battle that you did with Alexia’s in Code Veronica...

The pacing started off solid with the initial few segments, but quickly seemed to lose its footing once it oscillated violently between wildly different styles of play and storytelling and didn’t regain its stride the rest of the game. One moment, it’s classic RE. The next, it’s P.T. + Outlast. The next, back to “a mash up of action and horror, leaning more on action” styles of RE4 + RE5. Then the finale straight up started to feel like an entirely different game before you reached that final boss fight - it felt like i was jerked in one direction one minute, and a completely different one the next

There is a lot of exposition and explaining that doesn’t happen until legit the last 45 or so minutes. Not new for the series to withhold information until the back half of the game, but there was legit almost no build up to the very sudden plot bombs that got dropped successively in the last throes of the story. Previous games rewarded you with fragments at a fairly even pace - i felt like all of RE8′s story gets dropped on you in a single monologue and a handful of notes just before the endgame

I’m not even gonna go that deep into how hard it was to keep up with all the different infection methods the mold managed to have - it was just A Lot and i’ve played a lot of Resident Evil in the past, so i know just how many different ways a single pathogen can have on humans and animals...and it still felt excessive

I honestly felt like the third segment with Moreau wasn’t even necessary. they really played up these “four lords” to not have them do a whole lot of anything. and i know there’s always been mini bosses before you actually reach the final Big Bad, but seriously, Moreau’s segment can be blitzed through in a span of 20 minutes or so first playthrough. the castle segment with Dimitrescu was solid, the house segment with Donna was nightmare fuel, lmfao, but still engaging and challenging. by the time you get to the third and sprint right through, you’re left wondering what the point of it even was. you can tell that was the least cared about narrative arc in the whole story

A giant point of note is that a huge chunk of RE8′s story could have been avoided or altered had Chris just actually fucking spoken to Ethan at the start about what the fuck was going on. And for him not to is completely unlike Chris past RE5 and RE6, that made no narrative sense whatsoever. Just another opportunity to pile on some more trauma and guilt onto Chris’ shoulders by making him “responsible” for Ethan being pushed to far and dying as a result

“Ethan actually ‘died’ when first meeting Jack Baker and was completely taken over by mold, it’s a big secret to everyone but Mia. also, he’s gone too far, there’s no saving him, he had to die”

You’re going to tell me that Ethan still being infected or impacted by the mold from RE7 is some big secret??? did the BSAA not run tests on him and Mia to make sure they were back to normal levels??? how do they not know?!? the government was able to figure out that Sherry’s exposure to the G Virus altered her permanently and study her healing capabilities, how the fuck was that not the same with Ethan???

Also, how is it that the mold’s impact on him is so much higher? he was at the Baker estate for like, 2 days max and while, yes, he did sustain some serious damage, he never fell prey to Eveline’s control and showed absolutely no signs of infection outside of being able to heal/use his hand after it was chopped off. and depending on how you played RE7, the only major injury he sustains aside from probable bruising or broken bones is that hand being cut off as mentioned before

You’re also going to tell me of the number of Resident Evil characters who have been infected with viruses and parasites and what have you and have been cured or had the negative effects negated, Ethan was the only one “too far gone” to be saved??? Jill got infected with T Virus, Claire has been infected by two separate viruses, Leon has survived a parasite infection, both Zoe and Mia were exposed to mold for years and seem to be okay...why is it that Ethan was the only one who couldn’t be saved? because he “died”? how in the world did he get infected so fast - he’d been there an hour, max! - that he was able to be revived in the first place and it wasn’t even noticeable that he had changed at all???

“the BSAA can’t be trusted anymore, they’re involved in shady shit, like deploying bioweapons into battle”

we already went through this a bit back in Revelations 1 with the blackmailed director and double agents. but to full on go “well, the entire organization is now dirty” after it was legit founded by Chris, Jill, and Barry to combat bioterrorism really sits wrong with me. all i can think is that they are running out of villains at this point and now are poising the BSAA to be a Big Bad in the future. which, again, doesn’t sit right with me

Retconning

Tying Ozwell E. Spencer back to Miranda wasn’t such a huge dealbreaker for me, but it is a bit obnoxious to now have to go back and amend “he came up with the idea for Umbrella and its pursuits with Marcus and Ashford, its other founding members” to “well, he didn’t actually come up with the idea for Umbrella and its research with Marcus and Ashford, he already had the idea from his time spent with Miranda uwu”

More so, the retconning around Eveline is a bit of a pain in the ass. So she only came about as a result of Miranda crossing paths with the Connections and giving them some of her mold to work with? And Eveline was only a failed experiment to Miranda in her attempt to be able to transfer her daughter’s essence/subconscious/whatever into a living child? And there are pictures of ‘10 year old” Eveline in Miranda’s possession - how come Evie didn’t have any memory of her at all (speaking of Evie, why the fuck did she appear in 8 briefly as a hallucination [?] to explain to Ethan his condition???)

How are you going to try and tell me that some village from prior to the 19th century was using the “Umbrella” symbol and Spencer just snatched it for himself? that was just stupid, honestly - even more stupid how Ethan didn’t recognize the symbol, despite flying off in a Blue UMBRELLA helicopter at the end of RE7

Mocap and cutscenes

Was it just me or did parts of this game look severely unpolished compared to RE7??? some parts looked good - like the Dimitresus all seemed to be rendered very well. It became very noticeable to me in the back half of the game, mainly with Chris and Mia, but a little with Heisenberg too, where their mouths didn’t match up with the dialogue a lot and they looked a lot less put together than previous scenes and characters. Mia in particular, i was struck by how much better her mocap seemed in RE7 compared to RE8. Maybe because there was a bigger ensemble cast in 8 that they spread themselves a little too thin in that regard?

[themusikabox]

Elegy for a Rat

“A strange occurrence leads to an equally strange first meeting.”

Dedicated to @gasolineghuleh, for inspiring me to get up and write for the first time in almost a decade! This is actually heavily based on an experience I had several years ago; unfortunately, this was a somewhat unhappy story, and while I’ve tried not to make it too graphic in the retelling, reader discretion is advised.

Content Warning: Animal Death

SFW, Word count 1,530

The night was warm, and the streetlights shone off the asphalt, still wet from the rain earlier in the day. You were on your way home from a raid on the local mini-mart, a pint of ice cream swaying by your side. You usually didn’t like to head out so late in the day on your own, preferring not to tempt fate, but you lived in a fairly safe part of the city, and for good measure you did not have any music playing to keep yourself that much more aware of your surroundings. Besides, it had been a hell of a week - you deserved a little indulgence, right?

The walk had been without incident so far, and you were making your way across the well-lit parking lot to your apartment block when some movement in the gutter caught your eye. As you paused to focus, you realized quickly that it was a large, brown rat. That in and of itself wasn’t so strange; racoons got in the dumpsters around here all the time, and the residents occasionally complained of mice problems, so it stood to reason that there would be rats around as well. No, what had grabbed your attention was its behavior; as it scurried up the groove of the gutter, it would leap up onto the curb for a while before leaping back down, back and forth, back and forth. Frankly, you were a little astounded - you had never seen a wild animal do something like this for no apparent reason before. Was it playing?

Curiosity got the better of you, and you decided to follow it (not too close, you remind yourself, it is still a wild animal after all). As you closed the gap, though, something seemed to be “off” about the rat’s movements. From a distance, it had indeed looked like it was jumping to and fro, but as you drew closer, the movements appeared more erratic, less purposeful, for lack of a better word. It started to make its way away from the gutter, and yet it continued to jump about as before, which definitely struck you as strange, given the lack of obstacles. By the time you were a couple meters away, it hit you why this looked so odd.

It wasn’t jumping; it was spasming, hard.

“Oh no…” you breathed, heart breaking at the realization. The rat’s movements were slowing now, as it tried to make its way back to the gutter again with a new, unsteady wobble. It stopped for a moment, its rapid breathing apparent to you even from a distance. One more advance was attempted before it stopped again, collapsing against the wall of the curb. It was still breathing a mile a minute, but it was beginning to slow, and you realized with horror that something dark was oozing from its mouth between shuddering breaths.

You found yourself edging closer to the poor creature. Logically, you knew this was a bad idea on multiple counts; spasms most likely meant it was sick, either from disease or from poison (a possibility that made you shudder), and coupling that with a natural instinct to avoid the large creature looming over it, the rat could very well lash out and try to bite you. And yet, a sentimental part of you didn’t have the heart to just leave it. It felt cruel, somehow, to abandon it to die alone now that you have seen it and acknowledged its presence. So you continued your advance, slowly so as not to startle it, and kept a good meter away for both your safety and its peace of mind.

“You poor thing… you didn’t deserve this at all, did you?” you murmured sadly. “I wish I had realized sooner, though I guess that wouldn’t have done you too much good, would it?”

You continued these mindless attempts at comfort until a polite cough snapped you out of your reverie. Your head whipped up with a startled flinch in the direction of the interruption. There was a man standing there, whose approach you had somehow missed even in the silence of the night. To be fair, he was clad head to toe in a black-as-night cassock, and his mousey-brown hair was topped off with what appeared to be a biretta (something was not-quite-right about its shape, but in the dim light you couldn’t put your finger on what, exactly). A priest, perhaps? You knew there was a Catholic church nearby, but you doubted there was a connection; most priests you were familiar with did not look like Vincent Price had an unfortunate liquid-eyeliner accident. He raised his gloved hands in truce - the universal signal for “I realize this is creepy but I swear I’m not trying to be.”

“Ah, scusami, I was just taking a walk, I didn’t mean to, eh…” The man’s eyes darted between you and the rat, his confusion apparent. “...Interrupt? Might I ask what you are doing?”

“Oh! I, uh…” You felt your cheeks heat as you mentally scrambled for an explanation. Deciding there really was no way to salvage this interaction without looking at least a little weird, honesty felt like the best way forward. You gesture to the fallen creature.

“I noticed this rat was behaving strangely, so I was watching him for a while, and, well…” A sweeping motion towards the macabre scene, as if to punctuate your point. “He’s dying, and I didn’t want to just leave him alone.” At this point, you’re just trying not to squirm under this man’s scrutiny.

“‘Behaving strangely?’ Strange how, if I may ask?”

“He… he was jumping about, or at least I thought he was at first, but after a while I realized that it was convulsions. I can’t believe I had thought he was having a good time,” you added guiltily.

“Saint Vitus’ Dance,” he murmured thoughtfully, almost so soft that you didn’t catch it. “A frightening way to go, if you cannot understand what is happening to you.”

“I think that’s why I wanted to stay,” you confessed. “Being able to control your own movement is pretty much the most basic free will you can have, and even that was getting robbed of him.”

After a moment of silence, he nodded (as though making up his mind - about you, perhaps?), walked closer, and joined you in kneeling a polite distance away. More silence followed as the pair of you watched the rat’s breathing slowed and, eventually, stopped completely. Your breath left you heavily as you nodded sadly at this final moment.

The sensation of your phone buzzing in your pocket ripped you out of this (oddly peaceful) moment. You checked the screen, and flinched guiltily upon realizing it was your roommate checking in on you - you should have been home ten minutes ago. You quickly tapped out a reply assuring your continued survival, then stood, wincing slightly from the strain of crouching for so long.

“Shit, that completely got away from me. I’m sorry, I really need to get going.” You glanced once more at the now-deceased rat. “I feel a little bad just leaving him there, but… he’s not in the road, so he shouldn’t get squashed, and I don’t think the local cats will want to bother him now. Maybe I can move him in the morning.”

“Are you planning on giving him a funeral?” the man asked, brows raised. His tone seemed genuinely curious rather than mocking, which you privately appreciated.

“Not exactly… This may sound silly, but it feels presumptive to bury a wild animal. I was only really planning on moving him to some grass, maybe by some trees to hide him a little better. Something nicer than concrete, at any rate. Anyway, it was… nice? To meet you, Mister, uh…”

“Ah, dove sono le mie maniere? I am Copia. Cardinal Copia, technically, but under these circumstances, I think the niceties aren’t needed.” Your expression must have betrayed you, because “Eh, not that kind of Cardinal,” was quickly appended to this introduction. You gave your own name, though just a first name for now - this was quite the unorthodox bonding experience, and while he did seem okay, if eccentric, caution never hurt anybody. To his credit, Copia did not try to press you for more information.

“Perhaps I’ll see you at the memorial?” you offered, half serious. To your surprise, this was met with a small but nonetheless sincere smile.

“I would like that very much. It’s not often that I meet one who would show such esteem to a rat.” There was something self-deprecating in his expression that suggested he wasn’t just talking of literal rodents. “A domani, then?”

“A domani,” you replied, smiling at his awkward charm in spite of yourself. A final nod was exchanged between the two of you, then you parted, heading in opposite directions.

What a weird night, you thought to yourself. What a weird guy, for that matter.

Still, when you showed up the next morning with a shoebox to transport the mercifully untampered-with “St. Vitus”, you had to admit you were happy to see the good Cardinal waiting as promised, funeral lily in hand.