#though i am still befuddled on where question answerer exactly ties in

[syncrovoid-presents]

(by the way, if you're interested in what the note says the most accurate translation I've found is by Tumblr user truckfreaks! Thank you so much!!)

"Hello,

My name doesn't matter. I am here to catalogue something I'm not sure is fully real. But it must be. I'm holding all the evidence in my hands. Pictures. Characters. Text I can barely read. It's called "Welcome Home" and it looks like it might've been a children's book? Like I said, I can't tell.

It was sopping wet when I found it. When I first reached into one of the brightly colored envelopes, my hand was already covered in some gross, [unknown - possibly “oozing”] material. It feels like antiques are always covered in some kind of grime. I'm trying to clean up what I have and do a little more digging.

There's only one name I can make out right now... Wally. Probably important, but like I said, I'll keep looking.

XOXO"

Personally, I think this helps confirm that the "oozing" material that grows on the walls of The Room:tm: most likely originates from wherever the packages are being sent from. Also helps boost the idea that it is indeed Wally that drew in the Red Notebook, which is very neat!! it raises so many questions, but is equally fascinating!

Good morning! There is a secret place on the welcome home website- On the exhibition page one of the Answer words is clickable! It takes you to a picture that you can click and then a safe! The password is the answers to the hand out from the exhibition page asking who is the funniest character and who is the star etc. etc.

DISCOVERED HIDDEN PASSWORD PROTECTED PAGE OF THE NEW WELCOME HOME UPDATE

Here's my second attempt at answering this. SO first I had to check out if this is true or not, and I can confirm that it's real! Thanks for this!

HOW TO GET THERE:

On the Playfellow Exhibition page the "answer" to select is the last "answer" in the third paragraph (aka the last paragraph in italics). Depending on if you're viewing on a computer or not, this is on the lefthand side of the paragraph. Selecting it will bring you to this webpage called "password please" (clownillustration.com/crack-the-code).

This is super interesting! And it has many-a handy clues. Clicking on the image will bring you to another secret page, and this one is of a safe where each number of the keypad is replaced with members from Welcome Home. (clownillustration.com/password-please). Clicking on the safe prompts you to enter a password, and this handy sheet points you the right direction! The password is hidden in the answers to the 5 questions in the character worksheet in the Playfellow Exhibitions page. The answers are the following (in this order): Barnaby, Sally, Poppy, Julie, and Wally. The password is the first letter of each name, which is then: BSPJW

This is the page you're greeted to when you enter the password! It's got so much going on, but you cannot enter without the password.

OVERVIEW

Here's a list of the first things I noticed when going through this new page:

The W is out of place and moving. This could possibly be part of another series of out of place characters of a mystery?

The two blue eyes are still on the furthest left and right margins if you zoom out. This is consistent for most of the pages, possibly which ones Wally has influence/has a presence in?

The title of the page is written 5 times and there are two overlapping texts of "Can you hear me?"

The black lines overlapping the text of the page isn't just black lines but also text! Most of them are "Ring-ring. Ring. Hello? Can you hear me? Call back soon, please."

The last black line overlapping the text reads as "Ring. Ring ring. Ring. Won't you please pick up?"

The reason why they all look different is because they're different font sizes and because they have spaces elongating them too.

A few of the lines are split into multiple sections within the source code of the site, but are displayed as one. Unknown if this is stylistic or has other meaning.

There are pulsing orbs on the page! The first one on the right hand side covers the letters "bu". Unknown if this means anything, but is interesting.

The bottom of the page has a clickable text bubble of "It's in here". The 'i' of "in" is out of place. Maybe another character that's important? Clicking this just sends you to the error page, nothing special seems to happen there.

There is a slideshow of a different sort of Playfellow Exhibition! I will get to these later.

FILE NAMES

This is a fun little section checking to see if the names of the graphics of the site have any further meaning. I'll break them down in a list here.

The rotating W is called "Dizzy.gif" in the website code.

The rest of the "Welcome Home" title graphic is called "ElcomeHome.png"

Interestingly the blue drawn eye graphics out of bounds on the site are called "open..gif" in the code. Strange name!

The black pulsing dots come in two variations. The darker ones are called "coming2.gif" in the code while some are under a title section called "sit.gif" (they are still called "coming2.gif" within that. I thought that was interesting though! If taken as a scene, the black dots in "sit.gif" would be a sun)

The black swirls/clouds on the bottom are called "Hmm.png"

The black swirls/clouds on the top are called "hm.png"

The border patterns on each side are called "sneezing.png". Strange? This one sticks out as odd to me, compared to the rest.

The black "speech bubble" doesn't seem to actually have a specific word-name. Might be wrong on this, but if not I think that'd be interesting too, where everything gets word names except for the place that words should go. Funny!

TEXT

This is a direct transcript of what the page says, as it may be hard for some people to read.

"I had a dream when I began working on the Playfellow Exhibition. Wally Darling was sitting at the foot of my bed with a rotary phone in front of him, ringing away. It looked just like the little toy phone we were restoring for the exhibit. It kept ringing. Wally stared at me like he was waiting for me to pick up the phone. Just staring, unblinking. The phone ringing and ringing. I couldn't move. I couldn't figure out how to move and pick up the phone. He kept waiting. I couldn't pick up the phone. I keep getting phone calls, now. Or at least, I assume that's what's happening. I keep hearing it ringing. All day, sometimes. I check my phone and there's no new messages. I thought maybe some of the site staff were pranking me, but I tore up the workspace and couldn't find another phone that might be ringing. All that was there were the toys for the exhibit, and obviously those couldn't be ringing. But I kept hearing it anyway. The phone ringing and ringing. The more I work, the more questions I have. Why didn't any of the site staff I worked with remember this show? Even the ones who grew up in the 70s? Why can't I find any files on the Playfellow Workshop? Why isn't there a single TV guide ad saying what network or time the show was on? I keep digging and digging. I've poured over every recovery the WHRP has given me access to, every inch of their website, and the things I find make less and less sense. If I didn't know better I'd say everyone was coming together to pull an elaborate prank on me. I can still hear the phone ringing now. I don't know how to answer the phone. I need to answer the phone."

This is from what I believe is a new character in the Welcome Home universe. Not really a character in the show, but someone I'll be calling the Restorer. They are the one being tasked to restore the stuff sent to WHRP. This will become more relevant later on, but to break it down this is giving insight on the behind-the-scenes, and brings back the motif of the phone ringing. These I'll expand upon later. Also important to note, the "I need to the answer the phone" overlaps the gallery so it's very hard to make out, possibly a sign of internal struggle or not necessarily wanting to answer the phone but needing to regardless.

Letters out of place that I notices: w, i, [b or bu]. Putting in combinations of this in the top doesn't reveal anything new that I've found.

THE GALLERY

The gallery is very interesting! There is in total 24 images so I won't go too in depth with each, but I will go semi-in depth as there's lots of interesting things going on! And for MOST of them if you hover over them there is a transcript if text is within the image. This isn't the case for all of them, but majority is transcribed.

The first image is called "wall.PNG". It's actually one that I think stands out compared to the rest. Perhaps this is the entrance, perhaps it's the exit. It's the only one that doesn't get shown again later, other than the brief view of the black-grown wall. (if that wall is indeed the same as the one in others, it shows the height of the black growth).

The second image is called "chair.png". It is of a workspace. The orange sticky notes on the bottom have various spirals. IT's interesting to point out that in the left of the image there are cleaning supplies (or paint? both? it's hard to make out but I think it's cleaning supplies). Implies that whoever works here also much clean it.

The third image is called "ceiling.PNG". This one is really interesting and also doesn't appear in any other image. The eye appears to match almost exactly the eye under Home in the Neighbourhood page of the website, which leads to the "so-below". Eyes are an important motif, and it appears almost like the sticky notes with spirals drawn on them are "leaking" out of the black growth. Also interesting that it's taken up residence within the casing of a fluorescent light. These are often in schools or work buildings, implying that this is likely not happening in someone's basement. Also the the fact that it's coming where light should be is quite interesting too. Fascinating!!

The fourth image is called "button.png". It's a closeup of the desk, and shows off a few things that's there. Strangely the apple doesn't look real? Compared to the rest it looks like it was painted on. There is also black string coming out of the box of pens and markers and the sticky note and pen is the same as what has drawn some of the spirals. If I'm not mistaken Wally has yellow buttons in him, but not white. Unknown what that might mean, bit it's interesting! The container of vinyl gloves also has a sticky note that we can read in a different image. There is also a (discarded?) do not touch sign, likely for the growth on the walls or for reminding the Restorer not to touch stuff without gloves.

The fifth image is called "box.png". This a printed email sent to the WHRP by Questions Answered!. It's talking about the worksheet and code to enter the safe, ironically what we had to crack to get here. Possibly in-universe the code for the safe is something else. This shows up multiple times. Also, like other printed emails, it reveals this is taking place in 2023 (march and april to be exact!). This can be used to create a timeline of the emails (and events).

The sixth image is called "apple.png" and again, that appble doesn't look real. That might just be a me thing though. This is another shot of the desk and reveals a letter in the far right and vinyl gloves covered in the black growth on the walls. The sticky note on the gloves read "PUT ON GLOVES BEFORE HANDLING ANY ART. CALL ME IF WE RUN OUT!!!".

The seventh image is called "whoareyou.png". This one has the image of Frank with the red square (red is a colour tied to Wally). There is a blacklight message of "WHO ARE YOU?" with a drawing of a spiral and an eye, two symbols connected to Wally. Unknown if this is directed at the Restorer or at Frank. The yellow sticky note says "-IS ART WAS NOT... THE SHIPMENT... EASE STOP USING... WORK PRINTER.... PRANK ME >:(". Likely is read as "This art was not part of the shipment. Please stop using the work printer to prank me >:(". This is the same sticky note and writing style as the Restorer, so it's likely written by them.

The eighth image is called "corner.png" and it is of the corner of the room, a zoomed out image of "apple.png" and "button.png". It reveals that there's also a paint roller, a blacklight, four letters, two notebooks, a TV, toy phone and clock, an image on the wall and further black growth on the walls. Also has the same orange sticky notes/papers on the floor as the first image, proving that they must be taken within the same room/space. If so, all images here are from the one singular room, possibly all taken by the Restorer.

The ninth image is called "favorite.png". This is very very interesting because it's the only one containing a question answered directly by WHRP (asked by Question Answer!). It's asking about the WHRP experience researching and uncovering information about Welcome Home, but the blacklight reads as "Everything is so disgusting to touch. Sometimes the mail doesn't come for weeks. I want to rip into everything I have. My head feels so muddled too. Ever since I opened that envelope." The envelope is a direct callback to another page that mentions that the first information about Welcome Home came to WHRP in the forms of colourful envelopes (also used within the Welcome Home world). The blacklight message contradicts the printed response by WHRP. Implies that someone within the company OR from Question Answer! is covering up the actual working conditions for the Restorer and whoever writes the blacklight message (I do not think they're the same person(s)).

The tenth image is called "light.png". This is of the blacklight, strangely there are black strings or tendrils coming out of the blacklight (similar to the pen/marker box and of the black and white eye in the florescent light. Possibly the same growth as on the walls?). The sticky note reads "ATTENTION: ALL STAFF. CHECK ART WITH BLACKLIGHT BEFORE HANGING/PACKING/CLEANING/ETC. NEED PHOTOS FOR CONDITION REPORTS AND/AT WHRP TEAM!!!". This is written by whoever wrote the sticky note for the gloves, and doesn't look to be the same handwriting as the Restorer. In the top right you can see a part of another printed email (same as we see in other images).

The 11th image is called "mail.PNG". It's more printed emails, with the topmost having a transcript. The one on the right is dated April 13th and says "... out so promptly! I wasn't expecting them to arrive... value of these prizes for insurance?) - there actually... at all, could you send that so we can open the box... if that's easier!.... ration". Another email from Question Answer! and is about the safe prize again. The topmost email is about the upcoming exhibition and dated april 3rd, implying that the Restorer was able to restore a lot of pieces for the official exhibition, though still wants more to happen?

The 12th image is called "note.png". It's an orange stickynote with a drawn phone with two eyes. Looks like it's drawn in blacklight, possibly another message from whoever is doing that. The image was taken on the same desk the Restorer works on. Further proof that the blacklight writer and Restorer are not the same person(s).

The 13th image is called "notebook.PNG". This is written by the Restorer about the recent notebooks received from the WHRP. The Restorer mentions that it feels like it is all a prank and shoes desperation to find the answers. Doesn't look like the same hand writing as the sticky notes with instructions on them. Important that the phone is ringing! Also important that they say that the WHRP sent ONE notebook, so this notebook (yellowed pages with pargins and lines) belongs to the Restorer.

The 14th image is called "notebooks.png". This is of two notebooks, the one that the WHRP sent and the Restorer's notebook. The red one with the eye and spiral is from the WHRP while the yellow is from the Restorer. Interesting that it has a question mark and A on it, possibly implying that the Restorer works for Question Answer! and not directly with the WHRP team? The spiral and eye are in theme with Wally, and there is a bookmark with a Poppy like pattern sticking out. The notes are written by the Restorer, which means I might be wrong and the Restorer has been writing the rest of the notes too? Interesting! There's also a script that's too hard to read, and another sticky note with a spiral and a small doodle.

The 15th image is called "papers.png" and is of the papers on the ground, confirmed to not be sticky notes. They all have spirals on them, and are placed just before the desk in the room. Also the floors appear to be concrete?

The 16th image is called "Read.png". It's of the notebook that the WHRP team sent (on loan!). Interesting that the space around it is darkened while most of the images don't have that.

The 17th image is called "Bookopen.png". Unknown if this is inside the notebook sent by WHRP or the notebook owned by the Restorer. It has a doodle of a Home-like house with "The ... That ..." in it. The heart below has "You You" in it. The black marks could have been already there or recently placed there, unknown if they're fingers or more black growth (implication that the black growth came from the Welcome Home objects?). There are two drawings mostly covered by the open book, one that has an eye.

The 18th image is called "Booknow.png". It has a drawing on the left (same drawing that was under the notebook in "Bookopen.png". It also has a wally-like handpint in the bottom right, possibly implying this doodle is from Wally himself?). The right has an note written by the Restorer. It's hard to make out, but appears to generally be about their work on the project. Below is my attempt at making it more legible, but it's still too blurry to really read. Restorer notably does not give their name, and seems to be writing this to another person.

9. The 19th image is named "research.png". It's a zoom up of a sticky note written by the Restorer that was attached to the WHRP notebook. The blacklight reads "THE PHONE IS RINGING". 10. The 20th image is named "room.png" and is another image of the room, this time zoomed out further. Reveals that the handprints on the wall are human like (4 fingers and a thumb, not 3 fingers) which confirms Wally is not here @:P

The 21st image is called "safe.png". It is a picture of the second chair that has a photograph of Wally and the same safe that is seen when entering this hidden page. Interesting!

The 22nd image is called "sheet.png" and is of the same letter that is seen in another image (same letter that was cut off in the image "mail.PNG". The hidden blacklight text reads "WALLY DARLING" and the note is about the safe code. The email subject is asking about the safe code, and clarifies that the mail is about the activity prize being sent out in a lockbox. The insurance line is about what the prizes were, and the code to unlock the lockbox is within the activity worksheet. The sticky note is offering to send prizes at a later date once they can actually open the lockbox/safe. Dated april 13th.

The 23rd image is called "tv.png". It's the same TV as the one hidden page video with the strange audio, and appears to be severely outdated for 2023. This implies that the TV video was taken by the Restorer, who considers the TV broken. There are more handprints on the wall, and the phone is now on the phone holder instead of being out (no one has tried answering). It's also 5:20.

The 24th image is called "sorry.png". It is of an email from april 3rd. It's the same one we've seen elsewhere and the blacklight message says "I am so sorry.". Appears to be in response to the email, though it's unclear whether it's responding to being told that certain things cannot be touched, or that there is the black stuff growing on the walls. Also confirms that the black stuff on the walls isn't paint (or is not being painted on) but instead is growing on it's own. The sender of the email (Question Answer!) tells the receiver that they should not be considered if they experience nausea, dizziness or fatigued. Such lovely working conditions!

The 21st image is called "safe.png". It is a picture of the second chair that has a photograph of Wally and the same safe that is seen when entering this hidden page. Interesting!

The 22nd image is called "sheet.png" and is of the same letter that is seen in another image (same letter that was cut off in the image "mail.PNG". The hidden blacklight text reads "WALLY DARLING" and the note is about the safe code. The email subject is asking about the safe code, and clarifies that the mail is about the activity prize being sent out in a lockbox. The insurance line is about what the prizes were, and the code to unlock the lockbox is within the activity worksheet. The sticky note is offering to send prizes at a later date once they can actually open the lockbox/safe. Dated april 13th.

The 23rd image is called "tv.png". It's the same TV as the one hidden page video with the strange audio, and appears to be severely outdated for 2023. This implies that the TV video was taken by the Restorer, who considers the TV broken. There are more handprints on the wall, and the phone is now on the phone holder instead of being out (no one has tried answering). It's also 5:20.

The 24th image is called "sorry.png". It is of an email from april 3rd. It's the same one we've seen elsewhere and the blacklight message says "I am so sorry.". Appears to be in response to the email, though it's unclear whether it's responding to being told that certain things cannot be touched, or that there is the black stuff growing on the walls. Also confirms that the black stuff on the walls isn't paint (or is not being painted on) but instead is growing on it's own. The sender of the email (Question Answer!) tells the receiver that they should not be considered if they experience nausea, dizziness or fatigued. Such lovely working conditions!

Some images have the png in capitals and some don't. Is that important? I do not know!

THOUGHTS/SUMMARY

So what do we know? We know for sure that there is someone I'm dubbing the "Restorer" that works within this room. They are the one that took the pictures (most likely) and they are the ones restoring much of the stuff being sent by the WHRP team. They do not work directly for the WHRP but possibly for Question Answer!. There is another unknown person who is leaving messages only seen under blacklight.

The Question Answerer from the Playfellow Exhibition page of the website is likely either part of or is the head curator of Question Answerer!, the person that all the emails are talking to. They are the ones that have given the WHRP team the ability to set up the exhibition and given either funding, time, resources, or a combination thereof for the WHRP to continue their research. They know about the poor conditions of the room and do not care. It's likely that they are the ones that are "censoring" the messages the public gets about the WHRP and Restorer, as the text from the image called "favorite.png" says that the WHRP is very happy to work on the restoration (contradicts the blacklight) and the Question Answerer quotes from the exhibition page is all positive.

It's very interesting that all the emails are printed, we never get to see the actual people talking. We know it's conversations between the WHRP team (from the email address) and the head curator of Question Answer!, but we just see emails to Question Answer!, not from WHRP (other than sending a png of the worksheet). This also shows another interesting thing that the Restorer is given a huge lack of technology for their work, it's actually a huge lack of anything for the restoration work. There is some cleaning supplies in the corner, a box of pens and markers, gloves and a few tools, but majority of what they have is sticky notes and the black-growth health hazard. If I'm not mistaken, the TV might be the same as what would have been available back between 1969 and 1974, implying that the technology that is there is stuff that would have been around during Welcome Home's airing.

THEORY

After going through everything, here is my theory. Might contradict a few points I made above, but it's too long for me to go back. Plus that allows for more variations of interpretation haha.

I have a theory that the blacklight messages may be by someone in the WHRP team but not the Restorer. It apologizes for the poor working conditions, complains/reveals the truth of the working conditions, and asks general questions and mentions they too hear the ringing. If so, that would be more proof that there is separation between the WHRP and the Restorer.

In a similar train of thought, it's possible that instead of Question Answerer being the Question Answer! head curator, it's "supposed" to be the Restorer, but their messages have been "censored". The proof for this would be in the exhibition page, where it says "Question Answerer has taken great care in preserving these findings and helping to reproduce what couldn't be properly presented. They have also helped us to restore what was assumed to be completely destroyed [...]" and "It seems like everything these days is already neatly catalogued and answered down to the finest details. You can find a book or a website or what-have-you to answer any old question that might cross your mind. But Welcome Home was different! The more I looked at it, the more questions there were, and not an answer in sight. It was like a puzzle-box that had never been opened before, just begging to be investigated. How could I possibly resist a mystery like that - especially in a charming, colorful package! It was like a calling. A calling I just had to answer!"

Question Answerer is called that here because they're anonymous, another point that it could be the Restorer. Everything quoted there is variations of what is said on the hidden page version of the exhibition. They are the one working to preserve and restore separate from the WHRP team, and the rest is positive versions of what the Restorer has written or implied. The mystery being exciting and unique is a positive way of what the Restorer wrote about them being unable to find any proof of the show other than what they're sent. The puzzle-box could be the lockbox/safe that needs to be opened. The "charming colorful package" is another reference to how originally much of the Welcome Home proof was sent in colourful envelopes. The calling that "[they] just hand to answer" is in parallel to "I can still hear the phone ringing now. I don't know how to answer the phone. I need to answer the phone."

This lines up with the emails, that are sent to the curator, and the Restorer's personal notebook that has the questionmark and the A on the from, likely representing "Question Answerer". Only issue is that it seems that Question Answerer contacted the WHRP, and though the Restorer has shown desperation towards needing to find the answers "There has to be answers. There has to be. I'll find answers, people need me to have answers" but they also mention that they think it's a prank at multiple points, which doesn't sound like someone that would have contacted the WHRP first. That sounds more like someone that was drawn into it and then stuck in the position.

FINAL POINTS

Wally has been tied to eyes and spirals multiple times now, though more-so eyes. He is also tied to the ringing and to the TV static video. It seems like Wally is trying to contact the Restorer/Question Answerer, further proven by the messages left on the hidden webpage from Wally asking if he can be heard. Some of the blacklight messages have eyes and in the notebook sent by WHRP there is a Wally-handprint (not the first time Wally's hand has been seen somewhere). Is this proof that Wally is sending stuff from the WHRP? I'm unsure, but that is another theory! It would explain why that after all the ringing he now is trying to communicate through blacklights. Counterpoint: there is a note written to the Restorer/Question Answerer about checking for blacklight messages. That seems odd to me.

Does the eye in the cieling represent that Wally is aware and/or watching the restoration efforts? Is the black growth growing more that Welcome Home is uncovered, or is it from something else? Why hasn't the Restorer moved work places?

Additional thoughts: Wally is neither good nor bad, he is shown more as an outside force that wants attention rather than anyone behaving in a purposefully malicious way. If it's true that the black growth and the Restorer's nightmare/impossible need to the answer the phone is caused by Wally, he isn't doing it purposefully, or at least there's no proof. So far he sits beyond a moral assignment, at least that's how I see it. Also while the Eyes are symbolic of Wally's presence (or at least it's heavily implied through other hidden messages throughout the site) it isn't confirmed that the spirals are. The spirals could be something else. After all not all spirals are paired with eyes and not all eyes are paired with spirals!

I also would like to mention that as stated before entering the Welcome Home Website that the warnings of the site includes that it includes an exploration of topics like death, isolation, and mental health. I will expand upon this in another post, but here's some basic thoughts.

The room the Restorer is working in is isolated, almost to an absurd degree. They are sent tasks and expected to perform them through printed emails, meaning they do not get to answer. They have a toy phone, not a real one. They have an old non-functioning TV. The Restorer mentions that they think this is all a prank, and anyone they have talked to know nothing of Welcome Home. The growth on the wall could symbolize corruption, whether that be corruption from the original goal or corruption of one's health (dizziness, nausea, fatigue, those all can also be caused by isolation and poor mental health). I won't go further into it as that would make this post even more ridiculously long, but I thought it was something to introduce into the discussion of the new update.

Good bye for now!

[potassium-pilot]

Prompt 24: Illustrious

“Is it done, Alphinaud?” Dia pestered excitedly.

“No, it is not.”

She waited for approximately five seconds before asking again, “How about now?”

“Do you really want me to rush through this?”

“You’re the Artist Alphinaud, I am your assistant; what else can I do if not make sure you finish?”

“Will you ever let go of that?”

“Never.”

Alphinaud sighed defeatedly and continued his drawing. He was commissioned to create a current portrait of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn to hang in the Solar. To their relief, he had everyone’s figures wrote to memory and therefore, did not require them to pose. That in mind, Dia couldn’t help but be a shadow to the boy, watching his artistry at work. The Warrior of Light was many things; an artist, she was not. It seemed the act of using a paintbrush did not come with the same ease as using a sewing needle, or a cooking utensil.

In the middle stood what he believed looked like himself holding a carbuncle while Alisaie stood on his right side at roughly the same height with her rapier held out in front of her. Dia towered behind him carrying Tataru on her shoulders (at her behest) with Thancred on her left with his arms crossed, Y’shtola on her right with a cane being wielded, Urianger on Thancred’s left with a book in hand, G’raha between Alphinaud and Alisaie with a big grin on his face, and Krile in front of Y’shtola to the left of Alphinaud leaning up against him.

“All right, I’m not done, but what do you think so far, Dia?” She scrambled from the Solar door to the desk to look it over with enthusiasm. “Ahh, I love it so far! Why’d you make yourself so short though?”

“What do you mean?”

“Alphinaud, you’re not that small. You almost made yourself into a lalafell compared to me.”

“It feels accurate to me…after all, ‘tis no secret I’m of a smaller stature in comparison to many of you.”

“Smaller stature, sure, but you’re not miniature. Give yourself more credit.” He shook his head before she inquired, “And where’s Estinien?”

“Oh…”

“What?”

“He…told me not to draw him…”

If her eyes could turn red in fury like Nidhogg, they would have in that very moment. “Give me but a moment, Alphinaud…” she told him quietly. She turned away from the smaller elezen and exited out the door in a seemingly calm manner, concealing her fury.

*********

Estinien, Thancred, and Urianger enjoyed a cup of coffee in the lobby.

“So you sort of just…wait for an assignment?” Estinien confirmed. The other two nodded. “Frankly, it’s been a bit more trouble to have the patience recently, particularly since our last assignment wasn’t exactly taken by choice”, Thancred stated.

“Indeed. Though we only aged some few moons in the Source, our souls hath lived on for years in the First, and kept us all plenty occupied, particularly when our friend finally arrived”, Urianger affirmed. Estinien made a hum. “What did you do while waiting before?”

“Oh”, Thancred began nervously, “Nothing too unusual. We just took our rest, did something leisurely, enjoyed ourselves whilst we waited.”

“Is that what thou calleth courting several maidens at once?”

Thancred scowled at Urianger while Estinien made a slight smile at the remark. Suddenly, Thancred and Urianger made horrified faces and scattered from their positions, abandoning Estinien to his fate: a furious Warrior of Light, wearing a look she wore when she killed gods.

“Do you want to explain your thought process here?” Dia confronted him.

“You’re under the assumption that I care to explain anything.”

“Look, I get you that you like to work alone; frankly, it’s understandable in a way. Twelve knows half the work I do needs to be done alone, lest anyone without the Echo be tempered, but I have news for you: you are not alone anymore!”

He growled, “I still don’t know what you’re talking about.” She placed her face in her palm, then explained annoyedly, “The portrait, Estinien.”

“By the Fury, you’re angry with me about that?”

“Yes, yes I am.”

“It’s a bleeding portrait. What does it matter?”

“It matters, Estinien! It matters a lot to me, to Alphinaud, to quite a few of us.”

His face betrayed his befuddlement. Not having been a Scion for very long, her irritation seemed misplaced.

“That portrait’s not my place”, he attempted to explain, “And quite frankly, I don’t understand why you all so desperately want this portrait in the first place.”

“We want to commemorate our little family.”

“This isn’t my family. It never was.”

“Never?” she repeated incredulously.

He raised an eyebrow at her tone.

“Estinien, Alphinaud fought for you after your possession by Nidhogg. I fought for you. When everyone seemed intent on killing you, even yourself, we did everything we could to keep you alive. We even entreated Hraesvelgr to help us save you when Aymeric seemed content with just stopping Nidhogg at any cost. Then you go and follow us through Gyr Abania, to the point where you even pushed back an Ascian in the body of Zenos yae Galvus, and pulled my comatose body out of a battlefield and back to the front. And on top of that, you helped take out Black Rose facilities for us while the rest of us were off in another world. You mean to tell me that meant nothing?!”

Estinien blinked.

“Guess what, dragon boy? You were a Scion before you even offered your lance!”

He looked away to the floor, pondering her words, irritated by the nickname.

“Don’t call me ‘dragon boy’…” he snapped.

“That’s what you’re taking from this?”

He remained silent, still thinking through. What in hells had he done? What did he get himself into? He let out a frustrated breath and walked away. She watched him get away from her in disbelief, and followed him as he aimed for the Solar.

Estinien opened the door and called, “Alphinaud?”

The young elezen looked up and away from his efforts. “Yes, Estinien?” The dragoon hesitated, then begrudgingly ordered, “…put me in your damn portrait.”

Dia flashed a huge grin, and Alphinaud’s eyes lit up in excitement. “I’ll do just that! Thankfully, I was still sketching, so I can find a way to add you.”

“Hm…good, I guess.” He closed the door behind him and glared at Dia, still chipper from his agreement. “You’re a pain in my side, Dia Sito.”

“You have to be to do what I do. Thank you, Estinien. He’s a great artist; he’ll do you justice.” He shook his head and stomped off while Dia hurried back inside the Solar.

*********

A bell had passed since Estinien agreed to be in the portrait. Making sure he wasn’t followed, he quietly slipped into the Solar where Alphinaud continued his work unabated. He sat down in front of the young artist and bade him, “How goes the portrait?”

“Quite well, all things considered. I did have to remake the idea a bit, but overall, I’m quite pleased with how it turned out.”

“I see.” The dragoon shuffled in his chair for a moment, unsure how to phrase his next question. “Alphinaud…you are doing this of your own free will, correct?” He brought his attention from his work to the question brought before him. “Of course I am”, he answered incredulously.

“You’re sure, Alphinaud?”

“I am. Why do you ask?”

“I want to make sure this is something that you truly wish to do. Dia has a tendency to be a bit dramatic as I’ve recently learned.”

“Fear not, Estinien. I’m under no influence but mine own.”

Estinien let out a long breath and asked, “I know her reasons, but what of yours? What does obsessing over a painting get you?”

Alphinaud smiled at him. “I get a chance to relax.”

“Really?”

“I do. The past few times I’ve drawn, ‘twas out of necessity in order to locate our missing comrades or to gain entry into forbidden cities. This isn’t like that at all. Despite our friend’s being a bit more enthusiastic than I’m used to, I feel no pressure.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself at the very least, Alphinaud. But is that the only reason why?”

Alphinaud brought his gaze back to the portrait. In particular, he focused on the outlines of two people; Dia and Estinien.

“When I lost command of the Crystal Braves…when I heard that everyone I knew had been lost to that bloody banquet, all I felt was hopelessness. I felt stuck in a dark abyss, where nothing could see me nor pull me from it’s shackles. That’s what I earned for dehumanizing those who would help me, for seeing them all as pawns in my game to unite Eorzea.

Then Dia pulled me out of it. So did Tataru and Haurchefant.

Despite everything I ever thought of her, despite the way I would send her out as though she were my trusty god-slayer from my toolbelt, she stood with me, and helped me find a new home. Had she not saved Haurchefant’s friend from the Inquisition, and slayed Shiva, and the dragon that threatened the gates of Ishgard, we would not have found refuge within it’s walls.

After everything that came of our tenure in Ishgard, the Scions became something different. Especially now that my blood family has forsaken me, the bonds I’ve formed with my comrades became a great source of comfort to me. Everyone has their reasons for why the Scions are their home. If we wish to commemorate that with a painting, I see no reason not to oblige.”

Estinien didn’t usually pry into this sort of business; that was Aymeric’s domain. Yet, he did find himself in a better understanding of Alphinaud after that. He met the boy when he was still so immature, inexperienced in many things that were obvious to him growing up with Ser Alberic. It was interesting to hear how he changed, and what he missed.

“So this truly is more than just Dia’s will being imposed on others, then.”

“Dia’s not wont to impose her will onto others. She merely expressed a wish that the rest of the Scions shared, myself included.” Alphinaud raised an eyebrow. “Now that I think of it…I’m not entirely sure what her will is on a normal day. What does she want?”

“I have no idea. Perhaps it’s best for that to remain her business, hm?”

“When this is all over, and the Final Days are halted, I mean to express my sincere gratitude to her in any way I can.”

“Heh. Good luck with that”, Estinien commented as he rose from his chair. “Well, I won’t pry from your work any longer. Keep at it, Alphinaud.”

“I will, Estinien, thank you.”

The dragoon turned away and left through the door to the Solar. Alphinaud returned his full focus to the portrait.

******

The days passed while Alphinaud took his time to focus on the painting. The Solar was nearly forbidden territory, with the exception of Dia, who nobody would dare try to stop. After nearly a week’s worth of effort, Dia finally opened the door, and approached her fellow Scions.

“If any of you would like to view the portrait and help us decide where to place it, that would be most welcome”, Dia announced to the group as they sat in the lobby. All but Estinien rose from their chairs and walked towards the Solar.

“That means you too, Estinien.”

“Your suggestion is noted.”

“Get in here, or I’m telling Alphinaud to put it on your bed.”

He stood up reluctantly and followed her into the Solar, where they beheld the group fawning over the portrait. Estinien and Dia looked to each other, Dia wearing a smile on her face, Estinien his usual stoic look. He slowly walked towards the portrait to join the group.

For the most part, the positions of everyone stayed the same with one notable exception; Estinien stood between Dia and Thancred with a smirk and with his hand placed on Alphinaud’s head.

“I’m glad he took my suggestion and made himself taller”, Dia mused. Estinien tore his eyes away from the painting and looked to Dia. “Didn’t he do a good job with you, Estinien?” He nodded, “Aye, he did.” He brought his attention back to his portrait self.

Is that how he sees me, he thought.

“All right, now the question remains: where do we place it?” Alphinaud asked the group.

Everyone took a moment to think. “What about up there?” Estinien suggested, pointing to a spot above the desk…the spot that once held Tupsimati. Most of the group shifted uncomfortably with the exception of G’raha and Dia.

“Well…” Alphinaud started.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Dia defended. The group made faces of disbelief towards her. “Look, I will never forget Louisoix, nor will I forget Moenbryda’s sacrifice. But that spot is perfect. Anytime we walk in, we’ll see us hanging there proudly. After all, Tupsimati’s not hung there in how many moons now. Why don’t we use that spot to honor a new legacy?”

The Scions considered her words. “Did I touch upon something sensitive?” Estinien whispered to Dia. “‘Tis a long story. You did nothing wrong”, she whispered back to him.

“All right. Perhaps it would be better for us all to let our own story be told. After all, we saved not just one world, but two. That should be worth a nice spot, don’t you think?” Thancred reasoned. The group nodded.

“Allow me”, offered G’raha. He took out his staff and levitated the portrait from it’s spot. Y’shtola took out her cane and prepared a nail for the painting to hang upon. The two combined their efforts, and in a matter of minutes, the portrait hanged proudly in the very same spot Louisoix’s legacy once stood, the legacy that Dia had unfortunately sacrificed along with Moenbryda in her attempt to destroy Nabriales.

“There. I like it there quite a bit”, Dia complimented. “Thank you, G’raha, Y’shtola.”

“Of course. Now would you care to explain to me why that spot seemed to cause discomfort?” G’raha questioned.

Dia smiled. “I owe you two an explanation, it would seem.”

[seriouslyblacklikemysoul]

Burning Roses - Sirius Black/Remus Lupin x Reader

Request: Hey! As requests are open, can you write an imagine where your friends with the marauders and both Remus and sirius have a crush on you, but don't realize the other does, until it comes out that one of them wants to ask you out, and essentially the reader has to choose? Hope that made sense xx Warnings: My English. Angst, my heart can’t handle it. Language. Gifs aren’t mine. Credits to their original owners.  No, I don’t believe I will be writing a second part. Sometimes, we have to choose on our own.  Word Count~2.3k MASTERLIST Pending Requests

“Honestly, Rem, you really believed that I didn’t know?” you questioned him with a playful smile on your lips. That was the thing between you two. You were friends- family, really- with the Marauders since day one.  It felt natural like it was meant to be. That was six years ago. You had formed different bonds with each of them- all of them strong, just different. James was your brother. He was your older, overprotective, self-absorbed, completely infatuated with his Lily-flower, a brother. Even though you never had one and you couldn’t possibly know how a big brother acts, you did believe that James was excelling. You were never capable of holding a grudge against him- even though you truly wanted sometimes- as you witnessed how awfully in love he was with Lily. Any person capable of love is capable of being forgiven. Meaning that as much as he made you tick with his stupid plans to destroy your dates, you could never hate him or be mad at him for too long. Peter was your younger and more reserved brother. He was this kind and quiet person that had a lot of trouble adjusting. He had a lot of issues, especially with his confidence and he would barely speak up, but when he did, he would leave everyone dumbfounded by his intelligence. He was keen but he never believed it. You had acted up as his over-protective sister and helped him as much as you could.   Sirius… Sirius was different. You could say that you were closer, in a way. You had tried to be his sister but he already had a brother and family issues, so you just dropped it. He was such a great actor that you would almost fall for his carefree and laid-back attitude. Almost. You saw the flicker of pain and that small twinkle of unwanted memories that was pooling in his eyes. His act was impressive. In fact, those were the very words you told him when you confronted him. Since that very long night, you were inseparable. Somehow, you had managed to make him open up to you and let his walls down- something he had never done before, not even with his fellas. You had found yourself staring at him and his steely gray eyes more than once and you had quickly realized that you may or may not have feelings for him. And it sucked because he was with a different girl every other night. Also, because he was your friend. With Remus things just happened. He was actually, the first one to befriend you from the infamous Marauders. You had hit it off immediately because how could you not? He was sweet and caring, kind and polite. You would meet up in the Library, trying to study together but you would end up eating chocolate and drinking tea in the kitchens. You knew he was a werewolf since the moment you laid eyes on him. You just waited patiently for him to trust you enough to tell you. You had waited six years. You didn’t feel betrayed; it might hurt a bit but you understood all the possible reasons why he had kept it to himself and his friends. They were guys- they had practically formed a cult. The only problem was that somewhere between the books and the chocolate you had kind of developed a tiny crush on him. Something about his soft caramel eyes. You fancied two of your best friends. What a cliché. “Wait- you do? You know?” he whispered almost breathlessly. His eyes were wide and bewildered like he expected you to start running away from him.That was likely, you thought sarcastically. You raised an eyebrow. He should have known better- you were clever, disturbingly crafty. “Don’t you think that the nicknames give it away?” you simply suggested. He shook his head lightly but chuckled. He looked at you, his honest eyes were almost too honest for you to handle. “How long?” he asked you in a small voice. You tilted your head, trying to decide if you wanted to tell him that you knew all this time. “Since day one” you answered truthfully. You knew that he was going to scowled himself for not telling you a bit earlier. His mouth hung open. You offered him a soft and warm smile. “Yet you are still here and you never pushed me into telling you. Why?” he asked again, this time his voice cracked. You could sense the tension that was lingering dangerously close to you. “I am not afraid of you. On the contrary, I am afraid that you will get hurt because of it. And I don’t know… I guess I waited for you to trust me enough” you stated and held his gaze. He opened and closed his mouth too many times that it became hilarious. You lightly giggled at his reaction. “I trust you with my life. I hope you know that, love” he told you intensely. You smiled brightly at his words. “About ti- wait, what did you call me?”. What had started out as a sarcastic remark had turned out to be a befuddled question. You could have guessed that your cheeks were pink. His face fell as he realized that something had slipped. He didn’t mean to but it came almost too natural to call you that. But that did not mean that you liked it- or so he thought. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you, I just didn’t-” “I don’t mind” you blurted out, cutting off his ramble. You saw his lips forming a genuine smile that could melt your heart.

It was late and you were wide awake. Again. It was a habit of yours to go to the Astronomy Tower whenever you couldn’t sleep. It was already cold but you didn’t mind that much. You simply sat down near the edge and looked up. That was all it took for you to get lost and stay there. You felt your heart finally finding peace in the beautiful anarchy that all those galaxies created. Nothing was random in this life. The stars were consuming themselves to spread light-for you to see; planets were moving and colliding together, leaving behind what you thought as a mesmerizing chaos. Yet, you could witness the harmony, the perfect serenity in that havoc. You started naming all the constellation you could remember. “Capella, Pegasus, Betelgeuse, oh… the Pleiades star cluster and-” “Orion” you were cut off. You didn’t even need to look at him to know that it was Sirius. Your heart skipped a beat but soon you felt comfortable again. “Orion” you repeated softly, eyes glued to the velvet sky and the silk stars. His eyes, however, never left your face. “Everything that ever was still is. Everything that ever will be, already exist. We imagine that it is in motion and unfinished, that it’s still morphing- I don’t believe that” he gently commented and sat down next to you. You knew that he was here because he couldn’t sleep. You knew about his insomnia and nightmares. “How can you not? It’s because it’s unfinished that it’s astonishingly beautiful. Otherwise, it would be boring” you observed as your hands traced the patterns of the sky in mid-air- you longed to touch them, become part of them. He didn’t answer but you knew that he was comparing himself to it. You could tell that he truly believed that he had nothing else to live for because he didn’t think he could change. It broke your heart seeing him like this. Just like it broke your heart when Remus was like that-not believing he was worth it. Everything. You just sat there, not too close, not too far away, stargazing the night away. You didn’t talk but you didn’t have to. The silence wasn’t deafening-it was pleasant and very welcomed. You hadn’t noticed but he was looking at you the same way you were looking at the sky- full of awe and wonder. He had found his chaotic serenity. You slightly shivered but before you could say something, Sirius’ arms were wrapped around you, bringing you closer. Perks of being an Animagus- he was a heating pad. You could feel his heart beating and you could feel his body radiating warmth and somewhere between those two, you felt yourself losing touch with reality. He didn’t dare to close his eyes. 

“To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves” ― Federico García Lorca. They were so damn oblivious to each other’s feelings. James could see it, Peter could see it, Lily- well, she knew it since the moment it happened, even if they couldn’t exactly pinpoint it themselves. It was only a matter of time before all hell would break loose.  Today was the day. They were in their dorm, both of them lost in their own thoughts that so happened to be about the same person. They both wanted to ask her out- to let her know their feelings at the very least, but life had other plans. They had bought roses to give her but once they saw each other holding flowers they smiled because they thought that for the first time they were both going to be happy. But that changed the moment they opened their mouths. “Do you think Y/N will like them?” they said in unison and their smiles fell. They looked at each other completely stunned. They wanted the same girl. They had fallen for the same girl. As the realization hit them like a tidal wave, the flowers dropped to the floor. “No. Please, don’t” Remus whispered to Sirius, pleadingly. “Don’t do this to me” Sirius begged in return. What they didn’t know was that you were listening behind their closed door. You felt so sick of yourself. Nauseatingly awful person. “Why Sirius? Why? Out of all the girls, you could possibly want, why do you have to want the only one I care about?” Remus asked his ‘friend’. He knew that it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t somebody’s fault. He knew why. You were kind and sweet, sarcastic and witty, caring and… different. You were perfect to him. “You have no idea how much I care about her. She is the first person to make me feel like this, Remus. I can’t just let that go. I can’t let her go” Sirius confessed in a small voice. “You think I don’t know? You think I don’t care about her? I am in love with her. I have been, for as long as I can remember. And I don’t know if I should smile because she is my friend or fucking cry because that’s all she is ever going to be!”. You had never heard Remus so desperate. So painfully consumed. Your heart broke. You couldn’t do this to them, you had absolutely no freaking right to put them through that god-awful feeling. “She has been the only light in my life” Sirius replied softly. You couldn’t bury it any longer, so you ran away, reached your room, only to find Lily and James already waiting there. “You knew?” you breathlessly rasped out. Before you could help it, you fell apart and four arms were wrapped around you. You had just lost your two best friends. And a part of yourself-or even your whole self.  How much pain can a broken heart undergo? You were alerted by the smell. Something was burning. You got up and quickly made your way to the boys’ room with James. When you opened the door, you saw ten beautiful pink roses on fire. The two of them were just staring at each other, occasionally looking at the burning flowers. That was the visual representation of how you felt inside. Their heads snapped towards you and they tried to cover up the fact that they have been arguing- not exactly arguing- all that time. They were failing. “Alright, I am done playing games” Sirius announced and you knew what was coming your way. “There is something that needs to be said” Remus continued. You just couldn’t take it. “No, don’t. Please, don’t put me in that position. Don’t you dare put me in that position” you were almost crying again. You knew that sooner or later you would have to face this. “She heard you earlier” James clarified with an arm around your waist, supporting you and protecting you as a brother would do. Because he knew that you had a thing for both of them. Their faces paled. “Then, who is it, love?” Sirius almost demanded. You closed your eyes and almost felt like passing out. You couldn’t do this. You simply couldn’t. How could you choose? WHY does it have to be a choice? Why things aren’t easier? You thought of all the times you wanted to grab Remus by his shirt and kiss him with such passion that the sea would be jealous. And then your mind traveled to Sirius and all the times you had thought about the exact same thing about him. Something sparked inside of you. You knew. You opened your eyes.

Tags: @orionsirivsblack @kapolisradomthoughts @nadinissavage @sirius-black-deserved-better

[devolympian]

I’ve been working on chapter 4 of my novel for awhile now but I’m not sure if I like it. I was thinking about restarting but would like to hear other peoples opinions first. Please give this a read and tell me your honest thoughts about the characters dialogue and how the chapter feels to you.

Once our houses were in view I pushed down on the breaks and slowly brought us to a stop right next to the curb of Skyes place.

“Attention passengers” I said, while cupping my hand over my mouth for a good muffled effect, “we have arrived at our destination. If you lost luggage on the way or were harmed during travel it was your own fault.”

“You know” Skye stated as she took her helmet off, “when a light turns yellow it does not mean that you should go faster.”

“It does if you’re racing.”

“And who were you racing?”

Exactly on que Clairabell pulls up behind us in her cute, pink, corvette. Skyes new little buddy raindrop wasn’t too far behind.

“What the hell guys” Clair demanded as she stepped out, “why did you go so fast?”

“Cause you gotta go fast.”

Rolling her eyes, but still smiling, Skye shoved her helmet on my head and slid off my bike. It squeezes my head, like a lot, but I leave it on cause it makes me look funny.

Raindrop follows Skye as she walks through her chain linked gate and I offer my hand to Clair.

“Ma lady, shall I escort you to this fine establishment?”

“Only if you wipe the sweat off first” She tells me with a smirk that flashes her long and sharp canines.

“Motorcycle. They make your hands wet.”

“You should put that on a shirt.”

“I actually did, like as soon as I got that thing. The money from that is gonna put Fiona through college and is currently fueling my addiction to carbonated drinks.”

“Wait, soda’s addictive?”

“Probably.”

“Hey” Skye calls out to us, “you guys coming?”

I smile at her and then grab Clairs hand with my moist, sweety, icky fingers and rush towards Skye.

“Ew” she groans, “Zee, I told you to wipe them off.”

“Yep, you sure did.”

“Babe, I love you, but I will break your fingers.”

“Fair Enough.”

“How does your hand get like that any way” Skye asked me as she eyes my hand as it interlocks with Clairs?

“My gloves did it. They get super warm and just wreck my hands.”

Skye and Clair both look at with confused and befuddled expressions. And, yes, confused and befuddled do mean the exact same thing.

“Oh” Skye finally responds, “is that all?”

“Well what did you think the answer was?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s you” Clair adds, “we just sort of assumed it would be something, a little out there.”

I give both of them a hurt look and let go of Clairabells hand before placing mine onto my chest with a loud gasp. Stepping away I reach into my pocket with my other hand and pull out a small cube with a bright red carving on it.

“You mean” I say, while still holding the heartbroken look onto my face, “something like this?”

I promptly smash the flame rune on top of my head and light my hair on fire.

“I! Am! Ghost rider!”

“Pretty much, yeah” Skye bluntly tells me.

“Oh dang, I need to work on my shtick.”

“Or you could stop lighting yourself on fire” Clair suggested.

Skye then promptly grabbed the hose on her front porch and turned the knob at the tip causing the water to trickle out.

“Undine.”

With the spell word out of her mouth, the hose instantly blasted me in the face, putting out my awesome new hair style.

“ . . .Honestly, you probably should just start keeping water on you at all times. You know I’m just going to light myself on fire again.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t” a very familiar voice states from behind the girls, “it’s getting harder to replace the clothes you burn up.”

I look over the girls shoulders as they turn to greet the woman behind them.

“In all honesty, that could be avoided if you just bought me like fire fighter gear or something.”

As usual for when she’s gardening, her wheat colored hair was tied up into a ponytail and her brown tank top and tan cargo shorts were caked in dirt. In her glove covered hands was a pot which housed a red flower covered in purple polka dots. 

“Hello Kore” Clair nervously blurts out as she tries to look not freaked out.

“Hi Zees mom” Skye happily says as she waves.

“Hi Skye” Eema says, intentionally ignoring Clair, “how’s the night going for you kids?”

“I got a worm,” I happily told her.

“I saw. It was on the news. Do not bring it into the house.”

“I make no promises.” I then promptly turn to head into Skyes home, “we’re gonna play vidyer games now. Real pew pew stuff.” 

Eema rolls her eyes in response before setting the plant she was carrying onto the ground.

“Oh,” she states jumping back up before calling to us, “Skye, your mom needs your help outback.”

“Huh” Skye stutters out, before getting a look that says she knows what Eema is talking about, “right, sorry.”

With that, Clair and I watched Skye rush to the side of her house, her long curly mess of blonde hair trailing behind her.

“I’ll see you guys inside” she yells to us before disappearing into her backyard.

Her new little familiar, the water pegasus Rain drop, decided to ignore where it’s master had gone and instead began helping itself to the water from the still turned on hose.

“Is it safe for that thing to drink from there” Clair questioned as the horse gorged itself on hose water? “Aw no worries” I answered, “there’s only like a 75% chance it’ll get lead poisoning. Now, to the mind numbing rpg!”

“Send your sister home when you’re done,” Eema told me as I opened the door.

“Will do.” 

Stepping into Skyes home Clair and I were greeted by the sight of three eight year olds riding around on a giant black cat. Her name’s Sheba and she’s a good kitty.

“Hi Zee” one of the kids happily yelled at me.

“Hello young travelers” I responded with my best old english accent, “art though off on a grand adventure to slay the wicked monsters that plague this kingdom.”

“No” the boy sitting behind the first child answered, “we’re just riding our kittie.”

“Stop being a dork” the girl on the very back demanded of me.

Now, if you will allow, I am going to describe these three little gremlins to you fine readers in hopes you will have a clear visual picture of what they look like.

The two upfront were basically little Skyes, but with dark brown hair instead of blonde and one was biologically male. These are her little baby brother and sister, Nina and lucky little Luke. And, if you looked hard enough, you could see a few freckles decorating their dark skin.

The smaller girl on the back had straight red hair with her bangs cut flat so you could perfectly see her lightning blue eyes. This was my adorably pressase little sister Fiona Green, who adored and worshiped her super cool and talented big brother like the god he is.

“Move” Fiona yelled, “Sheba wants outside!”

I responded to my loving sister's request by sitting down and petting the panther on her head.

“Who’s a good girl” I ask the cat as she purrs from head scritches, “Sheba is, yes she is.”

“No” Nina objected, “he’s stealing the cat.”

“Counter attack” Luke yelled.

The three small children jumped off the giant cats back and leaped at me with all their combined power.

Naturally, they knocked me to the ground with ease.

“We got him” they all cheered.

However.

“Bwahahaha” I laughed as I rose from the ground, the children clinging to me, “did thee truly think that would be enough to slay thy! For I have no weakness!”

“Got ya” Clair cheered as she wrapped around me from behind.

“Ahh, my one weakness!” 

Turning around, and making sure the kids and Clair were safe from getting hurt, I fell onto the heavily cushioned couch with all four of them giggling.

“What’s going on out there” a man's voice called from the kitchen nearby.

I sit up slightly on the couch, with Clair and the kids still holding onto me, and see a tall man step into the frame of the kitchen entrance. He had deep dark skin, curly brown hair which bordered on black and thick glasses that covered his blue eyes. 

This is Skyes dad, Stanley Right. He is also a writing teacher and will straight up give you homework if you spell anything wrong.

Silver Lining, I is a rally good at the spolling of words now and gramericals.

“Oh” he said, taking note of Clair and I, “hey guys, what’s up.”

“Daddy” Nina yelled, leaping off of me and over the couch, “ Zee’s trying to steal Sheba.”

“I stopped him,” Luke stated, proudly standing on the back of the couch. I had to hold his shirt collar to make sure he didn’t fall to the floor. 

“Did not, I did!”

“No” Fiona added in, as she stood on my stomach, “he’s my brother, so I did!”

“I’m sure you all did a great job keeping Sheba safe,” Stan assured the kids as he petted the cats head, “now please stop playing on the couch and come eat, dinner’s ready.”

“Ok” they all said at once.

Luke and Fiona both leaped off the couch, with Fiona making sure she dug her feet into my gut so she could jump high enough. She honestly should be in football with how hard she kicks. Also, I should probably see a doctor.

I won’t but I should.

“Are you guys hungry” Stan asked us as we started sitting up, “it’s meatball night?”

“Oh I can’t” Clair said, “I ate too much already.”

“I’ll take some balls in my mouth” I happily told Skyes dad, “you got rice with it?”

“Mashed potatoes” he told me, “but we used rice to make the meat balls.”

“Ooh, nice.”

I followed Stan into the kitchen while Clair chilled out on the couch and started messing around on her phone.

In the kitchen, the kids sat at an oval shaped table with plates in front of them that were filled with fluffy garlic butter mashed potatoes, two large meatballs with bits of rice in them, all of which were slightly covered with pork and mushroom gravy.

All three, thinking they were being sneaky, shared with Sheba who was begging at their feet.

“Here ya go” Stan said as he finished making a similar plate and held it out to me.

Naturally, most likely sensing that there was food with her food sense, Skye opened the nearby sliding backdoor and stepped into the kitchen. Her sweater and skirt had dirt sprinkled all over them and her glasses looked way more smudged then normal.

Close behind her was a slightly taller woman  who honestly could have passed as Skyes twin sister if it weren’t for the fact that she was of a much lighter skin tone. 

She had her ankle length blond hair tied in a tight bun and wore red gardening shorts with a tight white tank top which Skye has repeatedly begged her not to wear in public because of the tingly feeling it gave people when they saw her in it. 

Apparently Skye didn’t like the fact that her mom, whose name is Trina, was the current crush of half the people in the neighborhood. A fact which I personally found hilariously. 

“Skye” Nina yelled as she turned in her chair to greet her big sister. “Look!”

The little girl promptly reached into her pocket and held out a small, slightly yellow, tooth.

“Is that your tooth” Skye asked, a slightly worried look on her face.

You might think that’s a dumb question, but those twins tryed to set up a tooth ponzy scheme by tricking other kids into giving them their teeth. They made about 40 bucks before their mom put a stop to it.

“It is” Trina assured her, “but the way she got it out is a bit-”

“I punched her in the face,” Luke proudly stated.

“He did,” Fiona stated, “there was a lot of blood.”

“It took us five trys,” Nina happily added, clearly unbothered by the fact that her brother repeatedly bashed her face in.

“We’re going to get it traded in tomorrow” Trina sighed, “and until then neither of you are going on the computer. Are we clear.”

“Yes mommy” the twins said in unison, clearly not wanting to upset their mother anymore then they already had.

“I was uninvolved,” Fiona argued, “I’m not being punished too right?”

“You were there,” Nina stated.

“Yeah,” Luke added, “that makes you an accomplish, an accompouly, an accompert. . . you’re guilty!”

“Ok” Skye said, as she tried her best to understand the logic of seven year olds, “why did Luke even punch- are those meatballs?” 

“Yep” Stan said as he walked a plate over to his wife, “here you go hun. Fresh warm balls.”

“Ew” Skye stated, “dad, don’t make jokes like that.”

“Thank you Stanny” Trina stated as she gave her husband a quick kiss, “I just adore your BALLS!”

“Mom!”

“Oh baby,” Stan told his wife, clearly picking up on the fact that they were tormenting their eighteen year old daughter, “these BALLS are all for you!”

“Please stop!”

“Oh come on” Trina stated as she sat down with her other two children and Fiona, “I need to praise your dad's BALLS, he has great BALLS!”

The three kids, and myself, promptly burst into uncontrollable laughter at the repeated shouting of the word balls.

“Okay, gross, ew, gross” Skye stated as she walked over to me, “can I please just eat.”

“You can still eat” I asked as she got her plate ready?

“I’m a growing girl.”

She finished stacking a few meatballs on top of her giant pile of mashed potatoes before opening the fridge and handing me a can of soda.

“Oh” she stated, two more sodas balanced in her filled arms, “can we eat in my room? We wanted to play games.”

“Sure” Stan said, “just bring your plates down when you're done.”

“Okay, thanks guys.”

“Don’t stay up too late,” Trina yelled as we exited the kitchen.

“Yo” I said to Clair as she reclined on Skyes couch, her phone in hand, “we heading up.”

“Dibs on the red controller” she said as she leaped off the couch and followed after Skye.

Jokes on her, I wanted the pink controller anyway. It has pretty flowers and sparkles on it.

The upstairs of Skyes house was made up of a short hallway with a closet at the end of it, one master bedroom on the left side and Skyes room and a bathroom on the right. The twins made their room in the garage which honestly was a pretty cool deal with how much their parents renovated it for them.

Other than which side they were on, the best way to tell which room was Skyes was by the pokemon stickers and cut out anime characters taped onto the door and the sign she hung on the door knob that said “welcome to the dungeon”. I have the same sign hung on the door to my basement if anyone was wondering.

With a quick turn of the knob, Clair and I were greeted by the scent of rosemary and lavender which filled a room decorated with a string of lights hung across the sealing, anime posters on the wall, and a few cute stuffed animals resting on the shelves a neatly made twin sized bed. 

Over on the right side of the room were two large book shelves filled with books, manga, and comics which we have spent years repeatedly reading together. It also had a few toys and figurines strewn about it that added a bit of flare. 

I make a mental note to stock up my personal collection of action figures and anime toys because they are awesome and everyone should have them decorating their living areas.

A little to the right of the book shelves was a tall entertainment stand with a TV set on top of it and two game systems hooked up on the bottom. Several games sat next to the consoles, just begging us to play them.

Skye walked in first and switched off the string of lights so she could use a more simple overhead light.

“What do you guys want to play” she asked before setting down her food and the two drinks, “oh, here Clair.” 

She handed Clair one of the drinks as we sat on the two of the three cushions set directly in front of the TV.

“Thank you gorgeous” Clair said with a smile.

She opened it and took a quick sip before leaning forward to check out which video game would catch her eye.

Skye, meanwhile, started stripping off her dirt covered clothes while I enjoyed a nice helping of balls and white stuff in my mouth.

“How about soul calibur?”

“Naw” I said through bites, “you two will just get pissed off at me.”

“That’s because you constantly spam the same gosh darn move,” Skye said as she slipped her tank top off, “how about Isac?”

“That’s one player,” Calir said.

“Blondie” I asked, “why don’t you have a bra on?”

“None of them are fitting” she grumbled, “they shrunk in the wash or something.”

“Yeah you keep telling yourself that.”

After slipping her stockings and shoes off Skye tossed her dirty clothes into a small laundry basket at the end of her bed and headed to the restroom she had between her bookshelf and TV, a fact which I find weird as hell because no room, other than ones you vacation too like hotels, needs a bathroom in it. That is an unnecessary luxury and I stand by it no matter what you say.

“Here” Clair practically screamed.

She happily sat up and showed me the game she had chosen for us.

Quest, original edition. A fun little JRPG from way back in the old times of the 1970’s that got relaunched last year. The game is basically your run of the mill save the princess story from an evil lord while playing as either a mage, warrior, or rogue with two friends.

Combat is fun, original japanese diolage is translated in stupid english, and you can murder an old man for a magic pumpkin. What’s not to love?

Granted the original version is a little dated, what with it’s casual display of several racial stereotypes, rampant sexism, and dated social political views on several races that aren’t human.

But it also had an awesome mini game where you fight in a giant robot so I guess you need to take the good with the bad.

“Sounds good” I tell her before yelling at Skye, “blondie, we found a game.” 

“Kay” she yelled back, “just let me get my contacts in and jammies on.”

“Dude, why do you keep your clothes in the bathroom closet?”

“Why don’t you?”

Fair enough.

Before Skye could leave her, completely unnecessary, bathroom Clair was already turning on one of the consoles and putting the game in.

With calming harp music playing the, name of the game, spelt with sparkling golden letters, slowly materialized against a brick red backdrop. The words “press any button” flashed at the bottom of the screen.

“Here you go” Clair said, handing me my favorite controller as she held hers firmly in her other hand.

Taking my pretty pink controller I readly tap a random button.

“New game” I ask the girls when our options show up.

“Yes” they both yell.

An epic trumpet sound erupts from the TV as soon as I hit the new game option before the screen goes to a deep black and the word loading flashes on the lower right.

Skye stepped out to join us and was now dressed in a white tank top and dark blue bike shorts. Her curly mess of blond hair was undone and fell to the floor of her room and her green eyes were no longer covered by her glasses.

“Why hello girl who desperately needs a haircut” I teased as Skye took her seat, food and drink in hand, “glad you could join us on our epic quest to slaughter the innocent demons caught in their king's political scandal.”

“It’s still kind of weird that they took out the human characters people were mad about but left the demons as is” Skye said as she took her controller, “also, I will never cut this mess. I have been growing it for way too long to turn back now.”

“Game’s starting” Clair informed us.

Starting at the bottom of the screen, bright yellow words began to slowly slide up.

“Why hello young travelers,” an old man's voice said as the words appeared, “I welcome thee to thine-”

“Skip” I state before repeatedly tapping the X button and skipping through the dialog.

“Alex” Skye exclaimed, clearly annoyed that I was trying to get to the game as soon as possible.

“Dude, this intro is like five minutes long and we’ve seen it like a hundred times now.”

“Yeah but it’s still a fun story. The introduction’s the best part.”

“And thus” the old man continued, “the king spread his seed throughout the line, hoping to father an heir who would raise-”

“Okay skip it.”

“Was that in the Japanese version” Clair asked as she switched from sitting on the pillow to laying on her stomach.

“No” I informed them, “the original had his son banging all the prostitutes and abandoning all his bastard children.”

“Oh wow that’s so much better.”

“Now tell me heroes,” the old man finished, “whom are you?”

On the screen appeared a cute young girl with braided white hair and dressed in a red robe standing between a large man in golden armor and a person in a dark brown cloak, whose gender is still being argued about to this very day.

“Dibs on the warrior” Skye yelled before instantly clicking on the hulking monster in armor.

“Cute girl” Clair screamed as she selected the red mage. 

“And I will screw with everyone” I proudly state right before selecting the best character, the rogue who can steal from any npc, set traps, and gives Skye and Clair a headache because setting the traps right in front of them is really fun. 

Which I did the moment the game started and inflicted both of their characters with poison.

“. . .Why do we let him be the thief again?”

“Cause neither of us want to be the thief.”

Mwahahaha.