#tober preaches

[tobernaut]

[0w0whatisthis]

day 18 of oc-tober:

swap!

i've swapped the backstories of my two aasimars with stupid names Rarthremoth Brag'dromauch and Mazzialimelanacolvaelminomineal Smith :}

rarth, raised by adoptive parents alongside his siblings, would go to wizard school and blow himself up about 100 times a week and do a lot of ill advised self tattooing in the pursuit of magical knowledge.

maz would now have a fallen aasimar heritage, and be the spiritual center of the cult she was born into. she preaches community and the importance of Always Keeping An Eye On Each Other.

[frenchiefitzhere]

Gonna hit you with a few questions (hope this helps <3):

-What's your favorite thing you've created recently? Whether it's something you're particularly proud of, something you've been looking forward to debuting, etc.

-What's a piece of media that you're always ready to gush about? Like you overhear someone mention a passing potential interest in it and you're (metaphorically or literally) sprinting over to share your love and expertise.

-What's your favorite dessert? Follow-up question: Is it something you know how to make personally/make for yourself?

Favorite thing I've created recently: We'll call this 'a thing' because it's a collection. I have the first four days of Redacted-tober queued up in my blog. I think some of the days will be something a little simpler, but I started writing "musical telegrams". I miss the days of just spitting out little fan art ditties, so I figured this was a great time to do it. I'm so grateful that @autisticempathydaemon set that up!!! 🌻 Piece of media I can rant about:

Have I preached to you about the 1990s animated series Gargoyles yet? Because it's amazing. It was my first fandom (which means, yep, my first fics were about Gargoyles, although I never published them anywhere). The animation was ahead of its time. And the CAST! (It was half the cast of Star Trek TNG + Keith David and a bunch of other talented VAs) I recently rewatched start to finish and it totally holds up. Favorite dessert:

For any time: Halo Top ice cream or a Frappuccino with coconut milk For special occasions: cannoli 🇮🇹 (I love cooking, but I don't make desserts lol)

[autobot2001]

Day 25.2 Letting His Gaurd Down

Fadnom; transformers Characters: Crosshairs, Drift, Jamie (OC) Rating: T Description: Crosshairs tries to talk to Drift about what happened but ends up having an anxiety attack.

Pt. 4/5. Part 3 here.

OC-tober: difficult conversation Flufftober: candle, lantern, fairy lights

After Crosshairs and Drift see Jamie for a while and eat breakfast, Drift decides to go to his mediation room. He turns on the fairy lights on the wall and lights some candles. He sits cross-legged in the middle of the floor. The door opens. Drift worries about the expression on Crosshairs' face as Crosshairs sits next to him. Glad we don't wear our boots inside here. Drift thinks but knows Crosshairs would follow the rules regarding the tatami in Drift's meditation room. Crosshairs looks around the room. "When did you put fairy lights in here?" Crosshairs asks. "When we returned." "Have you been able to meditate?" "No, I still can't stop picturing Jamie dead when I try to." Crosshairs sits next to Drift and hugs him. "You ok?" Drift asks. "No," Crosshairs replies before Drift can argue about how Crosshairs would act like he's ok and how he hates it, "I can't believe she tried again. No matter what we do, we're not helping her. Her mental health is scrap." Crosshairs struggles to breathe. He feels his chest tightening and that he can't get air in. "Crosshairs? Hey, look at me." Drift quickly texts Hound to help him. Worried they're going to have to resort to drugs. Hound rushes in, carrying a small bin. Which quickly comes in handy as Crosshairs needs to throw up. Cade rushes in to help Drift get Crosshairs up and out of the room.

The two have Crosshairs lie on the couch. Both can't believe Crosshairs is having an anxiety attack as they watch his hands tremble. No one knows Optimus is watching the situation. "I know she'll be on oxygen until she wakes up, but I think carrying her downstairs is a good idea for these two," Cogman whispers to Hound. "Let's go check on her," Hound whispers. Only Cade sees the two leave the room. He turns his attention back to Crosshairs. He sees Drift is handling getting Crosshairs to calm down. He sits on the couch across from the two. Which turns into being used as the focus object to get Crosshairs to relax.

"95°," Hound reads, "she'll be ok being wrapped in her red blanket. She's been breathing on her own for the past two hours. We can take this tube out, but I'm putting her on a little oxygen."

Hound walks into the living room, seeing Crosshairs sitting up and Drift and Optimus sitting on either side of him. Cade is still on the other couch, watching Hound walk over carrying Jamie. Hound sits on the coffee table in front of them. "She still needs to warm up a little, but she'll be ok," Hound explains as he has Crosshairs hold Jamie, "she's on one liter of oxygen at five percent. Until she wakes up." "Is it bad we like how short she is?" Cade asks. "Oh, I think they'd be holding her even if she was only five inches shorter," Hound comments. Cade and Hound laugh while Crosshairs and Drift's cheeks turn bright red. Cade, Hound, and Optimus leave the living room.

"So what's the decision?" Cade asks. Optimus sighs, "even on Cybertron, if an Autobot was like Jamie, they would be discharged from the army, but with Jamie…I can't. She needs us, even if it seems like it doesn't matter if she's with us." "The problem is she can't cut back on how often she returns home to her dimension," Hound comments, "there's nothing Crosshairs and Drift can do about that. Even being with her isn't helping." "I hate that our only opinion seems to be accept we can only keep her safe," Cade rants, "and how things are in her dimension is fucking disgusting. Fucking humans argue there needs to be more love and compassion in the world, but no one practices what they preach. It's all hate turned up to eleven thousand." "There's got to be something we can do," Vivian jumps in, "at this point, it'll be to help the three of them." The three look in the living room, seeing Crosshairs and Drift worried as they hug each other with Jamie between them. Hating that they don't know what to do.

[nemiravens]

OC-tober Day 17: Your OC talking about their beliefs

Feat. Gilbert Atkinson from Immortal Saints

"Trust me, Benitez. I believe it is possible."

Gilbert has always been quite the believer. But he isn’t a man raised by faith, not a member of any religious sect. In fact, he’s not a believer of miracles; a doctor such as him does not perform miracles.

But he caught wind of the existence of an immortal saint. For a person to be alive for more than a few centuries, that in itself is far from possible. It could be a case of eternal life on earth instead of after death.

Gilbert knew its possibility, believed in its possibility. He was determined to sift every library, every news press, to find proof of something only he seemed to believe in.

“Gilbert. You must stop this madness at once.” Concern. Fear. If only the young man would listen to him, perhaps Benitez would be spared from the trouble of constantly worrying about him being on the death row.

“What you’re doing is an act of blasphemy in the eyes of the Church. Can’t you see that the writer of that article was taken down a day after that paper’s publication?” Benitez insisted.

The case of the immortal saint. A boy seemingly at the age of fifteen that had been watching over ten generations of a noble family. The Church denied its existence.

The Church erased all traces of its existence. And every book, every article, has long since been destroyed, the study of immortality already considered a heretical practice.

"They who always preach about the gift of eternal life, the Church must be hiding something." Gilbert knew that much.

But his research wasn’t meant to challenge the higher ups. One could simply call it the natural thirst for knowledge of the human mind, the insatiable urge to satisfy one’s curiosity.

And, alas! The saint was never a fictitious story written to entertain the masses.

“There’s more to it than what meets your eye, Doctor,” said the immortal saint. “I will tell you all I know, but we cannot speak of it here.”

The boy who lived like a young god, he looked the doctor in the eye with the gaze of the ancients.

“You must get me out of here, Doctor. This family will be in danger the more I'm here.”

See the full list of OC-tober writing prompts here.

[jacobtoonz]

OC-Tober Day 3: Petyr Koloa. a man of law and order. Born as the son of a Russian officer and diplomat, Petyr's name carries a decent amount of pedigree in his native homeland. Intensely disciplined, strict and principled, his values have remained steadfast throughout the years. He knows how to bend people to his will and maintain peace. It's impressive, a man who practices the virtues he preaches. Then you find out he's extremely militant and will force you to follow the law, even if he has to send a group of watch dogs to spy on you, making sure you're doing what the rules state. Yeah, he's that rules-oriented. He's a very callous man who shows no respect to anyone he deems a "leech" or a "criminal", even if they've been falsely accused. To him, it doesn't matter what happened, the law is the law, and Petyr has made it his mission to uphold it, by any and all means.

[mauserfrau]

Afterthought - Bordertober

This... came out a lot different than I expected.  I honestly don’t know what the hell.  

More early CoV content.  First time I posted anything with Mouthpiece.  Please read the tags.

Before— Typhon never laid a hand on him.

That might have made things easier.  He’d at least have been there, been with him, felt that his father knew him enough to backhand him when he screwed up.

But, no.  As soon as Mama was in the ground...

“Daddy, I don’t feel good.”

“Daddy can you read to me?”

“Daddy, have you seen Lil Ty.  I’m scared. I...”

“Daddy, I...”

“Daddy?”

There was seldom any answer after that, and then: a thrown glass, a sharp word, a glance in the reflection of a blank monitor.

If Tyreen hadn’t cuddled up against his back at night, he would have sworn some days that he had disappeared.  

*

He wakes up in full sun, his head in his sister’s lap. 

Troy gropes the seat beneath them.  Right, they’re in the back of a Technical.  The air conditioner cranks while he bundles himself tighter in an emergency blanket.  

Tyreen pulls her headphones and smiles down at him.  “Finally decide to join me, huh?”

“What time is it?” Troy yawns.  His back grinds uncomfortably.

“No idea.  We’re late though.”

Late is relative on Pandora.  Shit happens.

Troy remembers he’s already scripted this tour out.  Tyreen’s gotten almost too good at the verbal stabs for some of her lines.

He remembers too: “Hey, do you ever miss...”

Tyreen groans.  She shoves her headphones back into place.

*

The outpost town is dusty, dim and sunburned.  The sign advertising its underground caves hangs by half a rope and half a chain.  People peer out of fractured windows as he and his sister make their way down the street.

The headman tells them, “We’ve had some, umm, trouble again.  We did our best to clear them out...”

“Who’s them?” Troy yawns.

Tyreen snaps her fingers in his face.  “Nylex Sen.  False prophet.  Preaches abstinence.  One of her gangs.”

“Right, right.” He stops himself from rubbing his eyes.  The whirr of the camera drone stirs his hair.  And around him, the townspeople, they seem so close to their busted glass. 

*

Bandits and supplicants filter in soon after their arrival.  The hillsides glint with metal and backfires.  People wearing knives and skulls and Children of the Vault tattoos come to pay tribute.

Troy blesses anybody who asks.  Tyreen strings a handful of other headmen along and dances with psychos.  Mouthpiece parks a truck in the town square, and she climbs up on the bed.

Troy smiles.  It’s been a while since she’s done a gonzo sermon with wet armpits.

“So, what revelation should I go over for ya? Hmm?” she asks the crowd.  To a thousand different answers, she talks about herself.

If he hadn’t heard it all before, her energy would enchant him.

*

He’s going to have to tell her to stop soon.  They need at least an hour for wardrobe and makeup.  She’s brushing close to busting her voice.

Troy pushes his footmen out of the way and he heads towards her, hoping to catch her eye.

He hears it halfway through the crush of bodies.

“Hey, Daddy?”

He starts.  

No it’s...

It’s just a little girl.

Nobody he knows. 

“Mama’s not here,” a man says gently, out of all the whispers.  “The bad people’s tyrant got her.  These are good people.”

Troy stares at his boots.  He shakes Daddy from his mind.  

He tries to, anyway.

*

They get into it once the kohl comes out.  “I need to talk to you,” Troy insists.  “I need you to listen.”

“I am listening,” Tyreen groans.  She takes a hit of lip plumper.  “Captive audience, by the way.”

“No, you’re not.  Can you maybe be merciful for like five seconds?”

“I keep telling you, not that kind of god,” she sing-songs.

“Well, maybe I am.”

She pauses, turns, and flexes her swollen, pink mouth at him.  “I know what you’re thinking.”

With a pencil close to his left eye, Troy accepts whatever she says next and the glitter for his markings, even though he finds the latter ridiculous.

“And OK, whatever.  We make orphans too, you know.”

*

He tries, one more time, in that liminal, disarmed moment before they go on stage together.  He tries to press on the heart of the matter.

“Let him go.  We got away, Bro.  Look at us! Look at them!” Tyreen opens her arms to the monitors, the way she used to when they did sky sermons all the time.

Bandits line the cavern as far as all the camera drones can see.  Some stand up to their knees in too-clear toxic water.  

Today, she’s dressed some fanciful sort of general, crystals on her coat.  

Troy’s costume looks effete compared to hers.  It feels though strangely comfortable.  He fumbles his collars nonetheless. “I know you’re right, I just...”

She pulls him down to kiss him on the cheek.  Without another word, she strides past the stage curtains.

Troy follows.

*

They declare the raid as an afterthought, tacked onto the end of divine nonsense and some Coleridge because Tyreen loves Coleridge.

They’ve no sooner descended the stage than the air bristles with weapons and people testing their guns.

Tyreen spins through the flickers of cordite.

Troy takes over the actual operation because the headman can’t make sense of his orders.  So the guy’s supper for his sister then.  For now— they’re under-manned and over-gunned and it’s far later in the day than Troy would have gotten started under any other circumstances.  His is flack jacket doesn’t fit.

Snipers make short work of guards.  Their people come gushing down the canyon at sunset, leaving smoke and spatter in their wake.  The caged tyrant turns out to be so frail and thin there’s hardly any point in shooting the thing.

But somebody does it.

Troy, barely bloody, wanders in the middle of it all until someone calls him over.

*

Five of them.  Five little boys.  The one’s still in diapers.  They shiver like dead leaves when anyone looks at them.  Their skin is littered with hand prints.    

The toothless old woman who had them under her bed grins up at Troy.

“What is this?” he says.  

“Why, ah, God King, was it? Headman.  Good sieur.” How she cackles.  “Why, that’s yours.  Don’t you know spoils when you see them?”

Troy feels the echoing snap in his muscles after he’s taken her.  By the grace of his anger he holds her over his head.  She struggles.  He squeezes.  Red slop sluices onto the floor.

In the corner of his eyes, the two oldest boys cradle each other close.

His heart thunders.

*

After— the air’s full of smoke and moonbeams.  Troy makes his way to the back of a church.  Which one? The one’s they’re at tonight.  He lost track of the name someplace in the night.

His head hurts for a change.

“Hey, Ty?” he says, hand on the knob of the apartment door.  

Tyreen sprawls over the tiny bed, a $200 bottle of gin clasped to her chest and headphones blinking in her ears.  At the writing desk, Mouthpiece taps at a laser projection of a piano keyboard.  He looks up, nods, and draws on with his notes.

Troy nods too.  He leaves the door unlatched and walks back down the shadows still lining the hall.

[vegetacide]

Whump●tober - Embracing Recovery

Veg-notables: Well it was a month in coming but i have finally drawn this whole thing to a close. It’s been quite the trip and the learning experience to boot. Somehow it all wrapped up in a nice tidy package encompassing several story lines into one world completely by accident by there you have it.  Something just happen that way.  

Many thanks to all those that jumped on this month long whump ride with me and many, many thanks to  @gumnut-logic for putting up with me none stop pretty much for the whole duration.  Your guidance and support has been very, very much appreciated.. And the mountain loads of candied ammo that was lobbed in my direction.  I think I might have a cavity now… 

Obligatory whumptober stuff: @whumptober2019 @la-vie-en-whump

Blanket warning:  Revelations, hurt, comfort and a resolution of sorts. 

Characters: Virgil, Scott, with a dash of Kayo, Gordon and Alan.  V/K

Whumptober - TaG’verse

Part 1 Unconscious | Part 2 Shaky Hands | Part 3 Stitches | Part 4 “Don’t move”

30. Recovery & 31. Embrace

Enjoy…

oOo

The moment Virgil stepped foot into the lounge he could feel Scott’s eyes on him and he resisted the urge to roll his own.  

“I’m fine, Scott.”  He said on reflex as he crossed the space on his way to the stairs.  He needed coffee stat and nothing was going to distract him from his goal. 

Scott came around the desk,  eyes narrowing on Virgil’s face as he headed towards him.  

Virgil was well aware of what he looked like and how he felt, thank you very much.  He was fresh from a shower, clean shaven and feeling for the first time in a while, well rested. The fact he required coffee to function on any given morning was nothing new and something that decidedly didn’t warranted the frown that was brewing on his brother’s face. 

“You’re squinting.” 

Now he did roll his eyes and he didn’t care if Scott saw it or not.  Turning he trotted down the stairs, Scott hot on his heels.

“Scott,  I’m okay. Stop worrying.”  Virgil b-lined it for the coffee pot, one though in mind.  Most obtain caffeine…

His brother’s hand landed on his shoulder, preventing him from reaching his target just feet from his destination. 

“This is really getting a bit much, Scott.”  He grumbled and cursed at himself internally for not taking the elevator all the way down the kitchen.  Why oh why had he thought that stopping at the lounge on the way was a good idea?  Hind sight and all that jazz was bullshit. 

“Are you sure?”  His brother’s voice sounded worried. 

“Yes,  it’s just the usual aftermath.  Nothing new there,  I am always a bit light sensitive for a few days after a migraine,  you know this.”  Virgil slipped out from under his brother’s grasp, stepped past him and snagged his favourite mug out of the cupboard.  

“Any double vision? Blurriness?” Came the expected rapid fire questions as he stalked after him to the coffee pot.  

Virgil sighed and didn’t answer right away and concentrated on pouring the aromatic brew.  Let his brother stew for a moment,  served him right for the mother hen and interrogation routine.   

After their lovely discussion the previous morning, Virgil had retreated to his room again, only venturing out around sunset in order to obtain some much needed sustenance and to watch Kayo do her ninja thing on the pool deck.  

Thankfully he’d managed to avoid Scott as he had been called away from the island and he’d only had to deal with his very perceptive Grandmother.  

That had been an interesting exchange and not one he wished to repeat any time soon. He needed time to wrap his head around things, sort out his emotions and if that meant doing everything in his power to be on the opposite side of the island from everyone else.. So be it. 

Except there was his very real need for coffee and due to that vice he had risked the trip down from his room.   It was apparently evident that Lady Luck was so not in his corner this fine morning.

Satisfied that his cup had reached its maximum capacity,  he lifted it to his lips and took his first sip of the day.   

Scolding, hot and deliciously rich, the flavour flowed over his taste buds and sung the song of the caffeine addicted.  A thrum of ecstasy fired up his neurons and the pleasure centre of his brain lit up like a Christmas tree.  Oh sweet Baby Jeebus, he bit back on the joyful moan as his need was finally sated. 

Then his brother’s tapping foot finally registered.    

Drawing in a breathe to anchor is growing antipathy,  he finally graced his overly anxious sibling with an answer.  “No double vision or blurriness.  Like I said, I’m fine. Let it go, Scott.” 

His brother’s arms crossed over his chest, eyes still inspecting.  Searching for any sign of deceit in his answer.  

The trust they shared had been rocked and Virgil was well aware that this was the price of his actions.  Something he was going to have to learn to deal with but right now… there was coffee..

Sipping away quietly for a few minutes, he let his brother continue staring at him, assessing the minutia of his movements and facial expression with a bored air of one well used to an over protective big brother filling in the very large shoes of their Father.  

His patience lasted a lot longer than he thought it would.

“You look tired still, you get enough sleep? “  

That did it,  patience quota reached. Completely maxed out.  

“Jesus… Scott. Stop it. I’m fine.” Putting his mug down with a little more force than he intended he marked off points on his fingers.  “I have slept, done pretty much nothing but since I crashed out in Two.   I have eaten enough food to satiate a small army.   I am more hydrated than even the Fish right now and that is saying something considering he basically lives in the pool.  There is no pain and my vision is fine. “

His brother looked like he was about to say something but Virgil put up a hand to stop him.  

“No.” He sighed, hands on his hips as his head dropped down.  Closing his eyes, he counted to ten to reign in his ire.   

“Look,  Scott…”  He started,  stalled out. Gave his doubt the middle finger and plowed on.  “Globalmax was over a year ago and you can stop hovering now, I’m not going to break. Sure I get the odd migraine but that’s it. Pack it in, let it go

Scott’s face shifted,  darkened.  Eyes narrowed, he poked a finger into Virgil’s face.   “That’s rich coming from you.”

“What…?” Confused all to hell at the change in his brother, Virgil’s brow furrowed. 

“Kind of the pot calling the kettle black isn’t it?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” 

“Bullshit,”  Scott’s temper flared and it had Virgil adjusting his stance to square off against the gale force that had surged into the kitchen. “You telling me to let it go when you can’t do the same.  You act like I haven’t clued into what you’ve been doing the last few weeks ever since I put Gordon back on active duty.”

Virgil’s face blanched, his defenses suddenly evaporating in the face of Scott’s accusation and he stood dumbfounded.

“I…”

“You what?” Scott stepped up to him,  all righteous anger and indignation but Virgil didn’t know how to respond.  Caught off guard by his brother’s fury and being found out so easily, words completely abandoned him.  

Scott seemed to catch himself and forced himself to step off, to back up.  Temper radiated out of him in waves but he clamped his control down hard on it and closed off as he reeled himself in.  

“Ya, just like I thought.  You can preach to me about letting things go but I sent you in to that plant. I was the one that put you in harm’s way and we came damn close to losing you.  Almost did had it not been for a fleet of stubborn ass doctors set on keeping your heart going.”

His voice hitched at the end and he had to put some physical distance between them,  long legs taking him across the kitchen around the table and back again. 

He paced a few more steps and stopped,  the counter between them.  “Just like you did sending Gordon in after Braman at the Calypso crash site. 

The words hung like a stinking carcass in the air and Virgil’s chest heaved, breathing in the hot, foul stench of it. 

Pulse kicking he tried to come up with excuses, tried to think around what Scott had tossed to callously in front of him but he couldn’t see a way around it.  There was no avoiding it when it was strung up with flashing lights right in front of your face like some damn garish marquee sign at a theatre.  

“You..you don’t understand.”

"Try it,  make me understand.”  Scott’s voice grew soft though his posture still screamed unrestrained agitation. 

Virgil drew in a breath, thought a moment,   blew back out again as his mind tossed out and rejected several responses. Finally he settled on one. “He’s my co-pilot.”  As if that should be answer enough.   

Like those three words could explain the whole of it.  That Gordon was more than a passenger along for a ride in Two.  He was his partner on missions,   his back up when he was unable to take the controls himself,  his goofy baby brother,  his responsibility… 

Virgil had been well aware of the dangers out here,  all those feet below the ocean surface under all that atmospheric pressure of millions and millions of gallons of water but he’d still let him go.  Even with the nagging feeling in the back of his head that something didn’t feel right but they were International Rescue so they did what their Father’s legacy dictated.  

Even if just for a machine,  an automaton that had been broadcasting on all their frequencies for hours on end.  He let his baby brother go,  and he’d nearly ended up dead. 

Left to die at the bottom of the ocean, crushed beneath a mountain of a crumbled volcanic stack like his life meant nothing. Like he was just an irritant that needed to be swatted away and was done so carelessly and with such disregard for everything their family stood for.  Everything they had spent the better part of their adult lives striving to achieve.   

Hovering above the ocean waiting for some news, seeing the broken body sprawled unmoving across a med-bay gurney had torn a hole through Virgil that he hadn’t been able to fill in all the time since.   An aching pit of guilt and despair that he had thought he could handle,  hide away in some dark corner of his mind.

It had only grown and festered, like an untreated wound.  Kept him up at night with visions of alternate outcomes. Of vaguely remember funerals,  caskets draped in white flowers and the somber words. 

Kayo had clicked into the fact that something was wrong months ago maybe Scott had too. The concerned etched on his face now mirrored her own every time he looked at her but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to burden them with this.  So to throw Kayo off the trail he’d tossed something else at her feet. Hoping that it would be enough to waylay her.

The message from Bramen about their Father being alive. He hadn’t lied to her about his feelings but he hadn’t supplied her with the whole of it. The omission hadn’t been easy and the guilt of that had compounded all the rest, but he had stood firm in visage even though he was crumbling just like that stack on the inside. 

As for Scott,   he’d just closed himself off.  Withdrawn and buried himself in work and good intentions   

The stim-tabs had come in handy and as he looked down at his trembling hand he knew, he’d gone way too far with it.  All Scott had to do was look back through all of Two’s records to see how far he’d fallen. 

Scott had a right to be concerned and Kayo had a right to her tears.  

Clenching his fist, he forced himself to answer no matter how painful it was. “He should never have been down there on his own.  I should have gone with him.” 

“So you could do what exactly?”  Scott moved, settled on a stool at the counter, in for the long haul if that was what it was going to take. “Gordon knows what he’s doing better than any of us.  He was WASP.  He has more qualification for underwater rescue than all of us combined.  He is always aware of the dangers every time he heads out there but he accepts it.

Scoot looked to the counter,  his fingers playing through the cooling puddle of coffee left there by Virgil’s careless handling.   “You can’t stop him from going out there, Virg... “  His words stopped short as the sounds of voices and stomping feet came thundering down the stairs.

Inane chatter about some video game or another bounced around the lofty ceiling and abruptly came to a halt when the aquanaut in question came up short at the end of the flight, Alan nearly running into the back of him.

“The fuck, Gordon?  Why’d you sto….?”  Alan’s inquiry drifted off as he took in the open air kitchen and instantly picked up on the heaviness that clogged the space.

“What’s up?”  Gordon asked as two pair of serious eyes turned his way.  One carrying more worry and guilt then it appeared  Gordon cared for and the other, frustration at whatever was going on being interrupted.  His own gaze darted back and forth between his older siblings with some trepidation.  “Who died?” 

Virgil turned away,  walked over to the  large, open patio and leaned his bulk against the thick clear blast door where it nested by its stationary counterpart. 

Scott sighed,  and Virgil pictured him standing with his hands braced on his hips and his head shaking back and forth is annoyance"Gordon.."

"What?"He asked completely oblivious to what his words had invoked. 

Virgil listened to the exchange behind him with only half an ear and watched the play of light across the rippling water of the pool.  

Gordon's oblivion question had been more  poignant they he knew his brother had meant.  It had struck the chord of the conversation and the image of his still, unresponsive body in Two echoed through his mind with a clarity that made Virgil shudder. 

It was early in the day still so the oppressive heat this time of year usually drummed up hadn't yet settled over the island yet.  

There was a breeze whispering through the fronds of the palms and rustling the long strands of ornamental grasses that boarded the patio in quaint little arrangements that Virgil knew his Father had installed as homage to the woman who so loved to garden when they were little.  

The cadence of the conversation behind changed and his pushed his focus back inside to the room as Gordon's voice rose.  

"Oh well..it looks like the adults are talking so we better run off and play like good little boys." 

"Gordon,. That's not what I meant.". 

"Than what did you mean?" He demanded facing off with Scott glare for glare.  

When Scott failed to answer, the currently land bound human-fish bristled and turned his sights on Virgil.  

Virgil’s mouth gaped a moment as he floundered but he didn't get a chance to respond as Kayo appeared at his elbow, her hand resting a moment on the base of his spine in a gesture of support before she slipped around him and over to Gordon.  

Her voice was pitched in such a way that they could all hear her words.  "I just got word that Lady P in inbound. Should be here soon."

Gordon’s attention was instantaneously redirected. “Penny’s coming here?”

Kay nodded, “About ten minutes out. Sad something about a reef project she is working on.”

“Ya,  she mentioned that to me last week.  I didn’t think they would move so fast on it..”  

The distraction work and in short order Gordon was back up the stairs and out of the room. 

Alan remained behind, gaze ping ponging between all those gathered in the familiar space.  A little lost as to what to do and where to go now that Gordon was off chasing after her Ladyship.   “Sooooooo…?”  He ventured.  

Kayo took pity on him,  grabbed a bag of oatmeal cookies from the pantry and gave the pair of them a look,  her eyes lingering on Virgil as she turned and walked back over to Alan.  “Hey, why don’t you show me that new Zombie game you’ve been going on about?”

Alan blinked,  shifted awkwardly on his feet as he absorbed the rising tension in the room again and was unsure what to do about it.  It was obvious from his pinched expression that he was well aware that things were far from alright between his two biggest brothers. 

“Everything okay?”  He asked instead as Kayo came up to him.  

She glanced back at Virgil as if she was interested in the answer to the question as well.  

Virgil’s large chest expanded on an inhalation before he took the reins.  “It’s cool, Alan.  Don’t worry about it.” 

Alan didn’t look convinced and neither did Kayo but she nodded in return.  

There would be words later, Virgil knew but for now she would back off and leave them to sort themselves out.  

“If you say so…” And the pair of them disappeared up the stairs. 

The kitchen grew quiet with their absence, the only sound that of the wind through the palms and a few wild birds that called the island home. 

“Listen,”  Scott was the first to break the stillness and Virgil peered back over his shoulder so Scott knew he was doing just that. “All I am saying is that I understand where you are coming from.  I’ve been there.  Am there, every day.  Every time a call comes in and I have to send one of you out there to do the impossible because it seems like no one else can, I’m right there where you are now.  I have to live with that. Remind myself that not only did I pick this life but you all did too.  You know the risks,  just trust that they know the risks too and remember that you are not alone.  

He came up to Virgil bumped his shoulder against his companionably.  “And if things ever get too hard, too much there are those on this island that are more than willing to help and if not here,”  His head inclined towards the ocean, towards the world at large,  “There are plenty of people out there that owe us a few things and would jump at the chance to return the favour.“

Virgil absorbed what was being offered and finally for the first time in days, months really the weight on his shoulders lifted.   

He chuckled slightly as a thought came to mind and just like that the tension was gone,  the animosity and outrage and all the negative crap that went along with it up and left.

“What?”  Scott asked a quizzical look popping his brow up in confusion,

“How in the hell do you put up with all of this?  All of us?” 

Scott grinned back, the devil in his smile.  “Dad’s private stash of Scotch… lots of Scotch.”

The sun was shifting outside as it made its way across the sky and a spear of light bounced off the pool which made Virgil blink, that fact that nothing speared into his brain with the flash of light didn’t go unnoticed by him.  Time took care of all things and it seemed the worst of everything had come to pass.  

The band-aid holding everything back had been torn off, the wound free to breathe and hopefully to heal now that all those party to it existence had lanced it of the festering poison that was rotting away at its core. 

The disinfectant that family supplied, was to be applied liberally and eventually all that would be left was a fading scar and life would go on.

His smile widened and grew broader as the future finally started to look brighter and he slung an arm over Scott’s shoulder, pulling him in for an unexpected hug which his brother reciprocated wholeheartedly.  

“It might be early but somewhere in the world it’s not.  Let’s go find that scotch.”  

oOo

The End.

The Master List of prompts can be found HERE

[1863-project-art]

OC-tober: Day 7

Godfrey Byrde - The World Turned Upside Down

Godfrey is a bookkeeper with a real nose for trouble. He loves engaging in harmless but confusing pranks, something he's been doing in his neighborhood in York since childhood with his partner in crime, Tobias. He didn’t mean to get all mixed up with the Lords of Misrule, but that’s just how things shook out that one night when he and Tobias went to draw on General Fairfax and had to leg it. Luckily, Godfrey tends to be down for pretty much anything, so he just went along with it.

When Aibhilin showed up after the Battle of Marston Moor, Godfrey was posing for Tobias in the town square. He took an apple from the still life portion of the image and broke it in half with his bare hands, and he handed half to Aibhilin. She was incredibly freaked out, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless, and before long she learned that this was a thing Godfrey was capable of doing on the regular and often did just to mess with people. Godfrey wasn’t actually terrifying or weirdly strong for his size - and he was actually quite protective of her, to boot!

Godfrey’s talents didn’t stop there, either. He’s also capable of perfectly impersonating a Puritan preacher, and he does this just to muck about under the name Fly-Fornication Johnson, with Tobias as his cousin Goodwood Johnson. He’s also able to get away with all manner of pranking when he’s taken on this guise because nobody would suspect the Puritan preaching about Calvinism as the person who put the bucket of water above the door. This ability above all else has made him quite useful, however - he’s the perfect diversion.

Godfrey and Tobias have also discovered in their quest to be less unprepared that frying pans can block musket bullets. How they discovered this is best not mentioned to Edmund, however.

[prematuremidlifecrisis]

Queue up, guys and gals and everything in between, cos iiiiiiit's OC introduction time! ✨✨

Full name: Étoile October Oppenhive

Nicknames: Ét, Étsie, Tober, Bluesky, Highness. Strictly used by those close to him.

Title and pronouns: Highprince of Dekindel. He/him

Birthday: 7th October 2002 (current age: 19 years)

Nationality: Dekindinian (Dekindel is a kingdom in my universe, don't fire up the ol' Google or anything)

Race: Half Dekindinian, half Romanian

Species: Human (though he occasionally says "cyborg" thanks to his prosthetics)

Sexuality: He's... figuring it out? Prolly ace tho 💜🖤⚪

Politically: He's a li'l leftie-baby. Was part of a revolution a couple of years back. Full-throttle leftie. Good for him.

Aesthetic: Fluctuates a lot. Mostly goth/ punk/ cybergoth. REFUSES to wear suits; calls them "capitalist straitjackets"

Emojis: 🖤✟✖️🕷⛧🕸🔗🦇🥀⚰️☠️🔪⸸

Coffee or tea? Coffee coffee coffee. All the way. Usually straight from the coffee-pot, no mug required. (Has a bit of a soft spot for matcha tho)

Chaotic or chill? So chaotic he has ascended to a higher plane of chill. Will set up complex police-proof networks for pirate radio broadcasts to summon all fellow degenerates to arms while chugging three litres of 0-cal Monster and remaining completely detached. Has been known to - and will again - punch sexists and cops in the face with the metal hand and a totally remote expression. Will hijack national broadcasts and preach anarchy in the king's face, spitting out blood and facts. Will also have a complete sobbing breakdown over dropping a glass of juice so his aglets are sticky, or end up face-down in the dirt when he nearly hits a cat with his car. Is he gonna take another nap, is he gonna go screaming out the nearest window at the most recent mild inconvenience, who knows, certainly not Étoile Oppenhive 🙃

Next OC introduction will probably be next Sunday but like... if I finish the drawing earlier than that and can't wait, possibly tomorrow lol

I'll probably update this list when I think of more info to include :)

✨ Bye for now! ✨

[reapaws]

Preach 'Tober

October so far: October 1 - Minecraft Steve In smash October 2 - Trump gets covid

[tobernaut]

You asked for drawing requests, can you draw sozo? I never see baby boy getting attention

I know you probably wanted something sweet but um. Sorry. I am incapable of not matching Sozo's freak.

[tobernaut]

Did you like the first chapter? I'm pretty intrigued so far, though I have to say Ratau's personality was quite surprising considering how he is in the game. I have a feeling that maybe he will be the one to betray the Lamb considering that change. I can't wait for the next chapter!

Spoilers for COTL comic chapter one below! I will be tagging "cotl comic spoilers" from now on. Please block this tag if you don't want to be spoiled!

Spoilers include plot/character talk and a singular image.

Did I like the first chapter???? Did I LIKE THE FIRST CHAPTER??? I've been going through it with a fine toothed comb and loving EVERY MINUTE OF IT!!!

Ahem.

So, I love this characterization of Ratau.

In the game we already saw hints that he maybe had a little bit of trouble letting go of the red crown. The fact he wears one made of paper is weird enough, but the fact he has the same paper crowns filling his house and on his shrine hints at this imo. I know game cannon ≠ comic cannon, but I had the idea Ratau may hold a little jealousy even before the comic because of this, so I was really excited to see the idea play out.

But if you look at it from his point of view, it kind of makes sense.

At least in the comic so far, it seems that Ratau is incredibly devoted to TOWW. He's offended that The Lamb is taking Narinder's mission so lightly, that they are seemingly attempting to ignore his orders in order to go on their own revenge quest.

This makes sense, because as a past vessel, Ratau is bound to know well the honor that that sort of job brings. Seemingly, he would be eager to take The Lamb's place, but knows he can not. He's managing someone doing his dream job, and they're just there for the paycheck. It's got to be infuriating!

Especially since he's seemingly older and wiser than the lamb (Though I don't think his or TOWW's use of the word "child" is literal. I think it's more in the same way The Mystic Seller calls The Lamb an infant god.) I can definitely see his frustration. I think that The Lamb is going to kind of "sober up" after Leshy's defeat and finally gain sight of the mission.

Speaking of The Lamb, I really like how they were characterized! A lot of us, including myself, were pretty sceptical of turning a silent protagonist into a fully fledged character, but in my opinion all is looking really very well so far!

I especially the love the sort of cognitive dissonance they have in the beginning. It sets them up to be this wimpy pushover. I know a lot of people may find it hard to believe that someone in those circumstances would be so calm, but as someone who's had a number of near death experiences I thought it was pretty realistic! A sort of humorous disassociation sprinkled with a confusing mix of denial and acceptance. (Though, please note it's been a few years since the last time I've nearly died. My data is a bit outdated.)

Regardless, I like how they are now. It makes a lot of sense, after all, to be a bit peeved at the circumstances. Their dialogue is super witty, though really sad if you think about it, and I have a feeling that when they stop focusing on revenge they're going to crash and feel a lot of things they've suppressed since their death.

But all in all I'm super excited to see where this little lamb goes!

Finally, can we get some Nana appreciation?? Sure she had a small role, but for a first non-game character, she made a really good first impression!

She seems fleshed out with her own little past, backstory, and personality. The traumatized sceptic in me is a bit worried she'll end up as a love interest, but I doubt it. If it does happen, I doubt it'll be in a typical way. This is a game where you're encouraged to marry with multiple people, after all. I don't think that's the case, though. I think I'm just used to old 80's comics where the first female introduced was the main love interest and nothing more 99.999% of the time.

Whatever is done with her, I'm eager for it. So far the writing seems really really good and she made a great first impression as a follower. She makes me EXCITED to see future follower interactions. If they're all written like her, then it's going to be a super enjoyable part of the comic. We love Nana here.

Finally I have some other random thoughts and things I noticed but can't really format in a way that works, so here's a bullet point list.

Apparently wool is very valuable. Now it's not said weather this is because of the lambs becoming less and less or if it was always valuable. Either way, it's and interesting little fact. I wonder if it'll be important later or if it's just trivia. I like to think things like that aren't added for no reason.

I like that they used the real term, 'Endling,' to describe the last of a soon to be extinct species. This knowledge, though, and the discussion with the cultist, implies this has happened many times before with other species. I wonder if they were always driven to extinction through genocide, or if natural factors ever play a role.

The Lamb was sold out for 30 gold coins. This is apparently a lot. It costs almost that much (converting coins to Dollars. Not perfect, I know.) to buy the ingredients for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich where I live in the US. Either there's not much inflation, or The Lamb was sold out for some PB and J.

I believe the thirty gold coins is a reference to the 30 silver coins Judas was given in exchange for selling out Jesus in Christian lore. If so, I like that detail! Very neat.

It's implied that the bishops are making life hell for EVERYONE while they drive off the lambs. This is interesting, and also a reflection of real life. Bonus points.

Does The Lamb really count as a non believer if they clearly believe in the bishops existence?? I mean they see them right there with no surprise.

Kallamar is shiny. Knew it. He also has tentacles.

It could just be the perspective, but Leshy seems taller than the other bishops.

BAAL AND AYM!

Let's all appreciate how well TOWW's chains and restraints were drawn. All those different perspectives must have been hell but it looks so good.

Chubby cheeks Narinder :)

Sharp teeth lamb! Possibly due to the crown??

So no head??

You. Me.

So no head?? x2

The lamb has guilt and second thoughts about the killing they must do to achieve their goals. Nice.

Cultist roles have hierarchy to them. Neat.

The Lamb's eyes water upon seeing light for the first time in who knows how long...sob.

Again, beautiful art.

There's lots of focus on The Lamb's fangs. Are they important or just stylistic, I wonder??

The crown seemingly has a mind of its own or is watching.

It's implied The Lamb has some sort of death powers already

So no head?? x3

CLAUNECK. MY BE FUCKING LOVED.

Needless to say I have so many THOUGHTS and can't wait for the next chapter. Happy reading, you guys!

[tobernaut]

Fine afternoon, isn’t it Tobernaut

It is, user aniimoni. Too fine...in fact-

FIREBALL!!!

[tobernaut]

evening tober

Narinderfies your cat image

[tobernaut]

Oh you love chronic pain narinder? You are gonna love my AU Tober..

OKAY

SOMEBODY REMIND ME TO COME BACK TO THIS AFTER STREAM BECAUSE I HAVE SO MANY THINGS TO SAY

But yes I love Narinder and co's chronic pain. I love how this is a cannon thing. As someone with chronic pain for a million different reasons, I love how this aspect of the bishops is so integral to their characters. How it isn't healed for a "good ending" or because they're "better people" now. I love how it simply is and was and will be.

I love when people give Narinder chronic pain! Health problems! I love when he struggles to cope with the scary new changes of flesh. It's so real as someone who semi-recently went through this all.

I'm sooooooo excited to see and hear more about your AU. I love AUs in general (need to work on some of mine more but meh.) but I can already tell this is going to be delicious. Good food.

Thank you for feeding me. I was so hungry