#troy 'cake' calypso

[gotstabbedbyapen]

Thanks for the tag <333 Here's my ranking on the songs:

soo...i did a thing :3

Link Here!

[roseofithaca]

My problem with The Return

First off; this is objectively a good movie. It's well shot, well acted, I appreciate the tone and message it's going for. I wasn't expecting the action and bombastic emotion and happy ending of Epic's Ithaca Saga, or even how Stephen Fry retold the conclusion in his Odyssey (I've yet to finish the actual source, hoping to get hold of Emily Wilson's translation soon). This is obviously going for a sort of deconstructive narrative that tells an anti-war message and it gets that across.

However.... (SPOILERS)

I don't like them applying this sort of narrative to Odysseus of all people. The whole emotional core of his character and the Odyssey is that he's a man who was ALWAYS trying to get home- but kept getting stopped along the way by forces beyond his control. Return Odysseus...we don't know where he's been. There's a vague mention of him having been living on an island with another woman for all this time, either Circe or Calypso they're never named, but basically all the gods and monsters and supernatural stuff is gutted from the story similar to Troy (2004). The only reference to anything else during that time is Odysseus introducing himself once as 'Nobody', but that's mainly just an Easter egg. So we're left to assume he stayed with this other woman of his own free will rather than being trapped and SA'd. Basically it's stated that this Odysseus hasn't spent ten years trying to get home - he was so scarred from the Trojan war that he was afraid to come home. All the other kings apparently made it back, but not him. And also, as there's no mention of his soldiers dying at sea, it's implied they all died at Troy - yet no word has got to Ithica from those who returned to inform anyone there of that?? Okay.

But basically turning Odysseus into a deadbeat who chose to stay away for so long rather than a man trying his hardest to get back to his wife and son....it guts so much of the emotion out of the story. And Telemachus is rightly pissed off at at his dad and there's no resolution to that. He decides to leave pretty much once Odysseus has finished slaughtering the suitors. His father is still caked in blood when he says goodbye to his mum and leaves, without once ever embracing the father he's only just got back in his life.

Oh and Penelope in this version is upset when Telemachus kills Antinous; the man who the day before arranged a hunting party to kill him - her son, and who has been creepily stalking her for a year. For a moment I was wondering if we were meant to wonder if she reciprocated his feelings towards her? What the fuck did you do to my girl?

The whole thing just felt so empty to me. You can do the story of "traumatised soldier afraid to come home" in any place and time but it just feels wrong with this story in particular. Aside from the Argos death, I just felt nothing because there was nothing about these characters to have me rooting for them. They try to bring in a tender moment at the end between Penelope and Odysseus but it feels too little, too late.

Not something I'm gonna watch again. But will still probably be better than Nolan's. We'll see.

[hazyaltcare]

Self-care for a Troy Calypso (Borderlands 3) faitive who is obsessed with bread and cake, but recently learned that they have a gluten intolerance and isn't taking it well.

Anger Journal - $11.20

Scented Anti-Stress Toy - $2.99

Bake Shop Sensory Box - $24.99 $22.50

Wooden Party Cake - $19.99

Sticker - $6.59 $5.60

Coffee Mug - $15

Pop-It Cake - $9

Plush Bread - $16

Mod Haze (🇨🇦JrEg)

[theloniousbach]

BACK TO SMALLS LIVE/MEZZROW’S (Mostly) FOR TRIOS, PART ONE

MAMIKO WATANABE with Santi DeBriano and Rudy Royston with special guest Josh Evans, 2 JANUARY 2025, 7:30 pm set

SULLIVAN FORTNER with Tyrone Allen and Kayvon Gordon with a special guest, 20 DECEMBER 2024, 10:30 pm set

Whilst out of town for nearly a week, I watched no streams. I have a backlog and can/will do a run of trios (ahead Miki Yamanaka, Ray Gallon, and David Hazeltine at least with Simona Premazzi if she comes into the archive in time). I could wait but lacking streams also means I’ve lacked writing prompts, so let me get these first two up.

They reflect a taxonomic/natural history tendency to think relationally and look for patterns. A friend called it cluster thinking, rather than, joking (I think) that it was stereotyping. So let’s call the whole project and example of a cluster thunk with the additional cluster here about how important the drummers were.

It took a moment to get the technology back up and running so I missed MAMIKO WATANABE’s reading of the head and first solo on On Green Dolphin Street (damn, sorry to miss that) but I got the tune from Santi DeBriano’s fine but thin toned solo. But even there Rudy Royston was doing subtly nuanced embellishments on top of nuances. Not as twitchy as Ari Hoenig but at almost the same level of complexity. There’s a pattern as the first time I saw each of them was with Francois Moutin; Royston in Rudresh Mahanthappa’s Hero Trio and Hoenig in the trio also with Jean-Michel Pilc. Royston mostly colored between the lines imposed by the small room of Mezzrow’s. He certainly was the most compelling player and he had the most fun of all with the calypso lilt of McCoy Tyner’s Island Birdie. WATANABE is a perfectly respectable, solid pianist with a nice sense of tunes, picking John Hicks’ Pas de Trois too as well as a meditative ballad which gave her her best solo. Trumpeter Josh Evans was both a tasteful part of the Hicks tune and helped make WATANABE’s Atomic Space nicely free.

I saw a reminder that SULLIVAN FORTNER played a similar seemingly loose and offhand set about a year ago with Tyrone Allen and Kayvon Gordon who are frequent rhythm section partners. I’m glad to see either/both of them on a gig, though Gordon is particularly tasteful. In any case, they and their leader played without a net. Allen choosing a ballad that broke up Fortner for the complex challenge it posed for all of them. Piece of cake. The next tune started as a duet with Gordon with lots of percussive piano responding to a drummer’s showcase. Fortner knows all the tunes and is probably just a little too clever for his own good. The opener had a Monk-ish feel but didn’t resolve on a particular one. And of course I didn’t place the standards that were deconstructed and/or teased. Like last year, he was in a Santa’s/elf’s hat and there were Christmas songs, albeit from the fringes of the Great American Songbook—White Christmas, Silver Bells, and, by request, Blue Christmas, played left handed so he could sing pretty capably actually. He is a shower singer by comparison in his household. “Boo, are you here?” She was but it took a moment, but CECILE McLORIN SAVANT came out for Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas (the original lyrics, which have a dark, not merry edge, Have yourself a merry little Christmas/It may be your last/Next year we may all be living in the past). But, man, she can sing.

Drummers and special special guests to go with fine pianists, tunes, and trio work. Clusters and patterns too as I’m writing again with a couple of more rounds on this tangent.

[mayhemd]

          this ain’t no place for no hero.                                      this ain’t no place for no better man.

[xxrat--punkxx]

AHHHHHH LOOK AT HOW BEAUTIFUL SHE IS

Starlight, Starbright. When will you tell them what you sacrificed?

- -

Someone requested a Tyreen version of my recent parasite/siren Troy, and because it's been a bit since my last one: I'm opening requests for a little while! Headcanon or AU questions? Ask box is open for those too!

[raidbossmadi]

PLU: Mama Who Bore Us

Sold to the Atlas corporation at birth, Leda spent most of her early life as a corporate Siren lapdog to the Atlas corporation. Her handlers, members of the Eridian artifact requisition team who she was raised to see as her parents gave her the last name Calypso in reference to the daughter of the titanic Atlas, whether this was them being cruel or clever is up for debate.

Always clever herself Leda gave the Atlas researchers that cared for her a run for their money with her ever inquisitive mind. She questioned even her own Siren abilities and longed to know more about the natural world that was at her beck and call.

Having read stories of what happened when you poorly socialised a siren Leda’s childhood was mostly uneventful and she was allowed to interact with the children of the Atlas employee’s the only active research being done on her being tests of her power and genetic sequencing. Atlas had wanted a Siren for war but they realized that what they had was infinitely more valuable when Leda picked up the Eridian language and ran with it.

In her teen years Leda had a rebellious streak, trying to run away from the Atlas tower and got her first reminder that while she allowed freedoms Atlas considered her property. She had her Atlas asset number tattooed on the back of her neck and was fitted with a compliance collar usually only used on penal workers. This curbed her rebellious behaviour though at the back of her mind she knew one day she would escape Atlas control.

After being allowed to pursue a college education she attended Promethea University and majored in Galactic anthropology while minoring in Xenolinguistics, at the time of her graduation she was considered the person most fluent in Eridian this side of the six galaxies. Upon graduation she was conscripted into an Atlas Eridian Artifacts research team and sent across the galaxy to acquire knowledge about the lost civilisation and the vaults they built so that Atlas might lay claim to what was inside them. Leda of course had different motivations. Guided by Hesperia, the last bearer of her siren power, Leda was guided to Athenas to meet Siren Queen Dido. Dido warned her that as long as she was under the thumb of Atlas the knowledge she sought would be lost to her, but gave her a book written in Eridian and told her to hide it amongst her things, it was for her and her alone.

The book turned out to be the diary of Demeter, the Firstborn Nature Siren and in it detailed the life of the firstborn Siren and after Leda’s interest in the content she had written, Demeter came forth from the aether to speak to Leda directly. Demeter told her of their missing sister, whom she had loved beyond words and the treachery of the other firstborns that saw her love sealed away forever.

Leda knew what she was destined to do. This would be the push she needed to break her chains, she knew who she had to find to get her where she needed to be. It was too easy to crash the drop pod on Pandora and make her crewmates disappear never to be heard of again. She sought the one civilian Atlas had a file on that was as detailed as the one they had kept for her, Typhon Deleon, the man who found the vaults.

Her intent had been to use him to get what she wanted, a stepping stone in her plans that would be cast off when she no longer needed him. What she did not plan for however, was that this strange little man who saw the world so differently than the cold and calculated handlers she’d known her whole life behind Atlas walls. She scarcely knew what love was and yet she found herself falling head over heels in it. They were an odd couple, everyone who met them could attest to that but they worked. The vault hunter and the siren, none of their friends could disagree that they were a perfect match. They would talk for hours about topics even their most scholarly friends would end up losing the point on. When it was all said and done, they married after finishing their map to Nekrotafeyo said their goodbyes and took off into the great dark beyond.

The Centurion was an older transport class ship, nowhere near as impressive as the likes of Montgomery Jakobs “Family Jewel”  but it had a class 2 laboratory and medbay on board so it suited the needs of the couple just nicely. Typhon had said the ship had been in his family for decades and Leda could believe that.

As populated space disappeared behind them and travel continued they discussed the one thing Leda had never thought would be on the table: starting a family. They had never intended to stay on Nekrotafeyo, the plan was to go, explore, and see if the vault of the serpent truly held the lost siren. So the idea of escaping into the vast expanse of space after that, raising children among the stars, it was quickly becoming a goal Leda realized she wanted so they began to try for children.

What they did not expect was Nekrotafeyo’s gravity to be as strong as it was, the miscalculation combined with the Centurions age led to a rough landing destroying the landing gear and several important navigation tools as well as damaging the left engine. The reactor still worked so they had access to all the amenities of the starship but they were stranded unless they could set aside time for the dedicated repairs. There was much to explore on the planet though so they set it aside for a future problem.

Before long Leda was travelling from ruin to ruin translating the Eridian runes that survived all this time and examining their complex crystalline machinery that responded to her powers if she tried hard enough. Typhon built them a suitable home in the shadow of the Centurion out of scrap metal he had in the cargo hold and before long they realized they liked life away from the people who would use them for their specialized abilities and talents. Furthermore, though they had still not located the vault of the serpent they had a new discovery that was equally as exciting; Leda was pregnant.

Typhon had hoped that his wife would settle down in pregnancy worried for the safety of their unborn children however it only spurred Leda to continue her search for the missing vault. They found it and went to battle with the Serpent, a seven headed vault monster (demigod) that was ultimately defeated. In opening the vault released the spirit of Nyriad, the lost siren so frightened she latched to the first unclaimed female presence she felt, the unborn Tyreen.  Unaware that her daughter being the bearer of the siren power would have adverse effects on her unborn son Leda assumed that things would be fine from here on out, she had done what she had set out to do. Everything else was icing on the cake.

Of course it would not be the easy ‘retirement’ the twins were discovered to be conjoined close to their due date and Tern opted to perform an emergency C-section then and there to prevent losing them both. When the twins were delivered no one expected Troy to make it more than a few days. He was struggling to survive outside an isolette and despite being fed he wasn’t gaining weight.  As if guided by an instinct Leda desperate to keep her son alive offered a tiny bit of her power to her son and when his little red marked fingers crossed the glowing blue of her markings her offered power flowed into her son and his little red marking flared to life for the first time since he’d been cut from his sister.

She was so relieved, her children would make and she would give them the world. In the end of course she gave them so much more than that.

[border-spam]

Leech Lord - What's your poison?

Troy

Only has two modes when alcohol starts entering his system:

Rare glimpse into his magnetic, genuine self

Troy.exe

It's usually the latter, sadly, and he's learned to spot the telltale signs over the years and stop drinking before they spiral. Going down that pit in private is fine, no one's going to see the spiteful hatred and self aggression he can reach, but he doesn't like other people being around for that. Not followers, and certainly not people he cares about. 

He's ashamed enough of the moments of it that sneak past his defenses - the tantrums in front of worshipers, the violent breakdowns around Saints and High Priests, so he won't let it happen when he has a choice. Troy will just stop drinking at times, regardless of if it's mid public event or only half way through a night of relaxation safe in a friend's home. That shadow passes over him briefly, it's hard to spot and he hides it well, but he puts the can down and shakes the blur out of his head. He tips a shot into someone else’s glass, and he lets the practiced mask slide back on.

The other times are rare but surprising. Sometimes it doesn't happen, sometimes the whispers in the back of his skull don't get louder, sometimes his skin gets warm instead of beginning to crawl, and those are the evenings everyone remembers. Those are the nights when people just.. want to be close to him. Where the laughter comes easy, and he radiates something few can hear, and even less can see. The shrieking sound harmonises, he hums on a silent frequency, shimmers in a halo of light on a spectrum eyes can't catch. 

They say people are drawn to Sirens, but when you ask why, no one ever has a real answer.

If you're there, next to a man who can't quite remember if he's Calypso or DeLeon, who's loosened with whiskey and stammering happily through a story recited through a flawless memory of childhood campfires and sitting in a mother's lap, you'll get it though. It's a feeling.

Tyreen

Ty can't really consume alcohol in general, it's very rare she's able to actually keep it down long enough for anything to happen, but she does like the taste, and that means once in a blue moon.. it hits her.

Whiskey, Vodka, Tequila, anything fire hot and hissing on the swallow is her palate, she can taste it a little! It doesn't matter if it goes down smooth or rough, she's.. expecting it to come back up again anyway, but when it stays in her stomach?

She's Tyreen.

The filth of God Queen Calypso just melts off her shoulders, her eyes relax , her mouth smooths out of its pointed sneer, she smiles. She runs hands through her hair and fluffs it into messy curls as she rolls out belly laughs from where she's sat crossed legged on the floor, bending almost in double as she cackles at Troy's stupid fucking jokes.

The woman radiates warmth. She's a born performer, all eyes lock on her and not out of fear as she climbs on top of one of the great feast tables and squelches through plates of food, not caring how stained her coat is going to be as she lets it drop. 

She commands attention, hundreds in the dining hall rapt and following her every word as she acts out adventures, gives voices to each character, brandishes a dinner knife like a saber as she fights off invisible foes and narrates with booming theatrics the plot of that movie they watched till the file corrupted as kids, the one about the dragon and the princess. The one he can still recite word for word.

He watches her from the massive ornate chair next to her empty one at the head of the tables. Rests his cheek in his left hand and smiles.

Tyreen turns into their father sometimes. The good parts of him, the parts Troy would give anything to see again, and his sister would loathe knowing she resembled.

Seifa

Sei handles booze like a close friend. An intimate close friend. A close friend who makes her... 😏

And that's basically how she reacts. She 😏 in a spiritual way. Alcohol strips her armor away like wet sponge cake - that shit splats onto the floor around her and all you have left is a bourbon soaked bitch who loves you, ok? Loves u. Oh my god 🥺 She lovessu??

She loves everyone who is remotely kind to her. She loves her crews working hard in the Mechanicum overnight and makes sure they know by slurring it out across the fucking broad-speakers that echo through the great hangar at 4AM.

She loves her friends, her real friends that she never had before, has she told them that by the way? That she never had friends before, not proper ones who stuck with her? Well she has now. 3 times in a row.

She loves Tyreen you know, she wishes she was here. It would be great if Ty was here wouldn't it? The real Ty. Do you remember Ty, the real one? She does. Ohhh the stories.... they'd melt your face. She's telling them now - you don't actually have a choice in whether she does or not.

She loves Ven so much, and Eli. And Jacko. Ol' Jacko da blade, c'mere. All of ff yee. She gives loving contact as freely as words, wrapping arms that can barely span any of the men's shoulders around them and practically wrestling them into chokeholds as they laugh and either knowingly try and detangle from her or just accept it for what it is and hug back. She's not going anywhere anyway, where's her other shoe? Ah fuck it it's grand.

She loves Troy, and it doesn't matter if he acts all annoyed cause she’s saying it, ahhaha look everyone he's so embarrassed, ah c'mere you idiot, hold still. She loves him. She hopes he knows how good he could be, underneath. 

She presses her cheek against the ridge of his and wraps half numb arms around mismatched shoulders, tells him in a hushed slur that she'll always be there for him, ok? She's his friend, she'll always be here if he needs her.

He'll wait for her to stop crying before he carefully peels her away from his chest and tries to get her some water. She always cries when it's Troy's turn to deal with her like this. Always, and only with him for some reason. 

It's hard to not notice, and sometime he's worried the other's know something he doesn't.

Asks are open!

[borderlandsthirst]

Flame Angel au

Koetai  

Physical 

Has a long gash going down her back at a slanted angle, it’s decorated with the twins’ snake symbol and a pair of dragon wings. 

Triple pierced ears, a small hoop for the earlobe and studs for the other holes. 

Long kinky hair kept in a ponytail, left side of her hair shaved around the ears. 

Has smaller scars over her body from years of abuse, use to try and cover them but now wears them with pride. 

Fashion since is nonexistent, just like the twins she wears an inconsistent color scheme. 

Has her own symbol she wears on the back of her jacket. A dark orange, six-winged serpent surrounded by flames. 

Has a pet Spiderantling name Natty who grows up to be a badass Spiderant Queen. 

I LIKE BIG BUTTS AND I CANNOT LIE!! 

Long post under the cut along with psychological destress and dark thoughts.

Mental 

Mostly shattered, years of mental and physical abuse has left Koetai in a state of numbness that only eases when the twins are around. 

It’s a bit unstable, can fly off the handle sometimes and takes it out on the followers.  

Has accidentally scratched Tyreen once while having a fit, it didn’t really affect her physically but emotionally she understands what it means to be treated poorly by your parents. Even if it’s not the same kind of trauma. 

Sometimes she’ll just shut down while in the safety of the Cathedral, while working with a saint or one of the twins she just stops and stare into the distance. Takes a while to bring her back 

Has stolen small unimportant items from the twins to take with her while she’s in the field so it feels like they’re with her. She needs them with her. 

Feels empty when the twins aren’t around or isn’t being praised by the followers, she’s the right hand of the twin Gods, she’s the enforcer. How can nobody see how powerful and important she is? 

Is a bit sadistic, will toy with Crimson Raider soldiers like a cat and then kill them in the most gruesome way imagine with her bare hands or a weapon that’s either her’s or theirs. All with a smile on her face. 

Takes pleasure in all pain, mostly people she knows are innocent and not fighters. Why should she care about the pain of children when nobody cared about her’s? 

Personality 

Crazy, that’s to be expected after everything that’s happened to her. 

Will fake you out in a heartbeat, one second she’s quiet and smiling real menacingly in your face, the next you’re lying on the ground bleeding while she walks off with your money and loot. 

Only when she’s with the twins can the girl she could have grown into is revealed, kinda shy in interested in music and crafting. And yoga, she has to be at ease to keep the twins at ease when they’re about to snap. 

Loves Troy and Tyreen but would never tell them (they’ll figure it out on their own eventually), because to her they are real Gods. 

When she’s focused on something she’ll get real quiet so her concentration isn’t broken. Sometime she’ll stick her tongue out the side of her mouth, Troy and Tyreen have many pictures. 

Gets along with the twins amazingly well, it’s almost like they’ve been together forever. Will let Tyreen do her hair and makeup, will let Troy do her nails. All three of them will sleep in a pile. 

Is standoffish towards literally everyone else, the bandits of Pandora remind her too much of a crazy, shitty father. 

See the cultist as demons, they aren’t even lost souls, just ants on the surface of a dry ass planet, but the twins have given them a chance to seek out salvation. She just loves the part where the follows fall out of line, although she hates seeing the twins angry, she loves the killing part.

Troy 

Physical 

Has a pretty nasty scar on his right shoulder leading down to the area across from his ribs. 

Troy protects his damaged area with a skin friendly and cushiony gel liner filled with medical beads. It hugs his shoulder and keeps his bracer in place without causing more harm to his body. 

Wishes for nothing more than to be normal like his sister, he constructs a prosthetic using stolen Hyperion tech that (surprisingly) still works and sprays it his skin tone. 

He has built up muscle mass (but is still skinny around his ribs) still has his eight pack (or is it a six pack?) 

Will cake on so much eye shadow you wonder if it's just a part of his face. And wears more eyeliner that is necessary when in front of a crowd. 

Has nipple piercings, gauges, a lip piercing, and a di- 

Still has the things in his arm (because Idk what they are) that are medical ports the pump nutrition into him. And so does his spinel connecter.  

THICK THIGHS AND ASS!! 

Mental 

Hates his body, even though he has an eight pack he loses weight at a dangerous rate, he has to eat lots of meat every day. 

Has night terrors often and usually wakes up with a knife in his hand. He wishes he could muster his powers to heal himself a real right arm. 

Tyreen usually has to come and calm him enough to get him back in bed, on especially terrible nights she’ll have him sleep with her for comfort.  

When alone he mumbles his mother’s name like a mantra, Leda Calypso. Like saying her name with keep him from going insane. 

Is angry at Tyreen for latching onto him as a fetus and almost killing him, but knows that she obviously didn’t mean to, this kind of thing happens sometimes to twins. And it’s not like she could do anything about the Leech, she was a fetus. 

Doesn’t stop him from hating what happened. Even though he loves his only family member. 

Has found himself thinking about very dark things involving Tyreen and blood. 

Making his prosthetic look like a real arm only broke him more, but even if it looks real, he knows it’s not. 

Personality 

A mask of channeled angsty goth teen energy, not as dramatic as Tyreen, but when he is it’s a fucking show. Overconfident in himself and cocky. 

Doesn’t like when the followers get too close to him, Tyreen, or Koetai. Will act like he gives a damn about his followers at a distance, but if they get too close? He crushes they’re skull with his cybernetic. 

Is a cold and viscous beast with no remorse for anyone, will stump in your ribcage just for looking at him. 

Keeps his personal saints at an arm's length, on Koetai can get close, anyone who steps out of line is, well, dead. 

Behind closed doors he’s all over his machines, he loves to tinker and build. He created the blueprints for the COV’s guns, Koetai’s buzzaxe, and countless other knickknacks across the camps of Pandora. 

Loves beatboxing, will make up some horrible beat in hopes that Tyreen or Koetai will rap or sing to it, can actually sing himself. Has sung the girls to sleep before. 

Records personal logs for himself whenever he’s in the mood, it can be about anything, personal issues, how being the GodKing makes him feel, how there’s really only one asset in his life that’s keeping him together. 

Love to bake, surprising to someone who doesn’t know him. But Troy loves sweets and it’s hard to get that on Pandora, so he makes them himself. 

Tyreen 

Physical 

Tyreen has a matching scar on her left shoulder blade where she was connected to Troy. 

She wears at least two layers of clothing to ensure it stays hidden, it doesn’t matter if it’s hot out, if her scar is covered then she’s satisfied.  

Has perfected a balanced look of dark makeup to make her look grown and sexy since she has a baby face. Sharp eyeliner, dark blue or black eyeshadow, and variety of dark lip-glosses.  

Works out with Troy (but not too much, just enough to stay in shape) so she has a nice four pack. 

Also has piercings, cute little studs for her ears, a nose piercing, nipples too, and a cl- 

Has her mother’s last name tattooed across her lower back. And has the COV logo tattooed on her right shoulder (really to match the eye on Troy’s shoulder.) 

Doesn’t wear a glove on her left had (since it doesn’t do anything nor does it really match the outfit.) 

THICK THIGHS SAVE LIVES, while big booties end them. 

Mental 

Can HEAR the Leech talking to her, trying to convince her to consume more, feed more, TAKE MORE. Has even told her to leech her brother more times than one. 

Was once teetering on the edge of insanity because of the constant whispering in the back of her head, but over the years she’s managed to push it back. But sometimes the voice breaks through again. 

Because of the voice she barely sleeps, it’s not like she needs to, but she can’t even if she needed to. 

Loves her brother with all her heart but feels like he hates her for what she’s done. Sure, she wasn’t even born yet, but she almost killed him before he was even born. 

Actually despises the fact she’s a siren, if she wasn’t a siren Troy would messed up, mom would still be alive, and dad wouldn’t have treated us so coldly. 

Doesn’t have it together as much as she likes to think, would have a mental breakdown behind closed door, Troy has only seen it once and spent hours with Tyreen as she sobbed uncontrollably into his arms. She made sure to never let him witness that again. 

Tyreen has clawed at her tattooed arm a few times, scratched thick deep cuts that immediately heal close, just to be scratched open again. 

Only perusing the Grant Vault for Troy’s sake, hopefully all that power will keep his stable for the rest of their lives. 

Personality 

Egotistical and shamelessly smug. Thinks she’s big shit and that she’s on top of the world. Lives with a shit-eating grin on her face while in front of the camera. 

Actually convinces everyone around her that she truly does care about of her followers (but is really still afraid of them.) Wouldn’t hesitate to punt-kick one in private though.  

Enjoys followers throwing themselves at her feet to offer gifts and praise, but if anyone touches her, even accidently, they’re dead. They’re not even allowed to kiss her boots, she doesn’t want their saliva on her clothes. 

When away from public she is extremely soft and sweet, kisses? She gives kisses to her brother and to Koetai, she is also pretty chill. 

While Troy bakes, Tyreen cooks. She may not need to eat real food but that doesn’t mean she can’t if she wants to. Pasta, sandwiches, a fucking baked potato? You name it, she can make it.  

Loves to sing, her mother said she had the voice of an angel, will perform a little concert for Troy and Koetai and feel flushed and proud afterwards. 

Enjoys painting like no one would believe, has a painting station in the corner of her room where she spends a good amount of time painting pictures of her loved ones, which is only three people, not including her father. 

Enjoys just, sitting outside on her balcony with the fresh air, even if the air is dry and smells like skag shit.  

First time I’ve ever written anything like this and I’m sure I did it badly, still more to come, should work on a position structure or something. Also need to make a layout of the common and working rooms.

[mauserfrau]

Thoughts About Writing For Tyreen Calypso Part 1 - The Talking Part

This post is RE: the discussion about Tyreen’s dialogue @border-spam​’s place.  I spun it off because this is going to get pretty involved.

Long story short: it’s a script issue.  It’s also one of the things that seems to be making people shy away from writing any derivative fiction featuring her.

How did I come to that first conclusion? Funny story…

I’m only in Borderlands fandom because someone I was writing with at the time discovered I could do a decent approximation of Tyreen.  I wasn’t expecting to hear from this person for a week or so after the game came out, but there I was threeish days later and they slid into my DMs with “What’ll it take for you to play Tyreen Calypso?”, no hello, no how are you, just that.

Me: BB, the hell’re you on about???

^^^ It didn’t even occur to me at first blush that “Tyreen Calypso” was a name, but there had been wine with dinner that night.

So several minutes of furious explaining later (Siren what? ECHO who? Something about a metal arm. Can you back up for a sec…) they get the bright idea to send me the cutscene with Lilith which I initially declined to watch.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” / “But you love violent asshole characters! C’mon.”

Well, they had me there.  To give you some idea of how much I love violent asshole characters, my initial reaction was: “Oh, she sounds like Nerdecrafter.  Sure I can fake this for a few pages.” I just turned the profanity dial up.  

70,000 words later I finally started trying to figure out what was going on with this character whose shoes I was wearing sometimes for fun on the weekend, which is another story in and of itself.  For right now, do you see the problem here?

I didn’t say “Jackie from Nerdecrafter”.  I said “Nerdecrafter”, as in an internet persona invented by someone to present tutorials and reviews; someone with a needfully limited range in topic and expression.  That, and it’s probably a bad sign I could even kind of fake this character for a novel’s worth of words.  Then again, that wasn’t what I did at all.  I was doing this other voice the whole time.  And I got away with it.  Why?

Well, because it was fun, at least until I realized everything about Tyreen will leave you staring into the void once you try to see past the basics.  Now, it’s very acceptable, even desirable, to not explain every little detail about a character in a story.  You can express certain things better with clever omissions.  

Someone at Gearbox understood that at some point.  I mean, just look at Handsome Jack.  You know, the antagonist the Calypso Twins are always held up to.  We get just enough of his backstory that we have a framework for his motivations and an inviting space to tell our own stories if we like.  Personally, my favorite thing we don’t get with Jack is we’re denied the expression on his face for a lot of key moments and then it’s not even really his face when we do see it.  Who came up with that?  I want to buy that person cake.

Now, look at what we got with Tyreen.

Yeah.  So, how do we go about writing dialogue for Tyreen that both sounds like her and adds variety?

~*~

Easy: faking based off of Nerdecrafter works alright, but it does have a finite shelf life.  If you’re not writing something huge/involved/far outside the lines [this will probably not work if you give her children or are running a redemption arc], go for it.  No one will know unless you tell them.

>>> @sanguinechaos​ suggested you could try crossing Jackie and Sika’s speech patterns too. 

>>>>>And now I’m wondering what they’ll think if they read this post.

~*~

Hard: Extrapolate.  

-Throw out all of her performative yacking. 

--But keep in mind she probably does wear her persona to dinner at least sometimes.

-Take her ECHO chatter.

--Oops, that’s a really small sample umm...

-Take Troy’s ECHO chatter.

--They grew up together.  Their natural speech patterns will have things in common.

-Put that in a blender 

-See what you get.

--We’re all going to get different things because this is an art not a science. 

If you’re feeling fancy, one sample we don’t have that would be super helpful is something from Leda.  Go write her a little ECHO log and throw it in your notes for reference.  

~*~

Cheaty Medium: use the same speech pattern you’ve adopted for Troy and sharpen it.  No, that’s not sharp enough.  One more round with the knife block.  Use the fine grit.  There you go! Is this what I’m doing with Satellite? Yeah.  It kinda is.  I started off cheating.  I’m not sure what you expected.

~*~

Whatever method you choose or invent, you’re going to see more flex and evolution than you would writing for a character with a larger, more varied reference library.  Don’t be afraid of that.  I know, you’re writing fanfiction and you want a baseline you can go back to, but you’re not getting one here unless you set it yourself.  But hey, you get to put it wherever you want.  How fun!

So what are your magic tricks for gazing into the void? What would you have liked to have heard the Twins talk about in game for reference? Do you think I’m full of garbage water? Let me know in the comments XD.

~*~

Pipsqueak and Chenille by Amanda Louise Spayd.

[hazyaltcare]

could we get a self-care for a Troy Calypso (Borderlands 3) fucktive who is obsessed with bread (and cake, etc)? we recently learned we have a gluten intolerance and know he wont take it well, so feel free to "add angst" 😅

Queue got it

Mod Haze (🇨🇦JrEg)

[mayhemd]

                     I’M THE SIREN,

                                                                           HE’S THE PARASITE.

[ cred: x , x ]

[border-spam]

Wolf in wolf’s clothing

Gift fic for the lovely @artisthicc-nikyri​ of her oc’s Ari and Jameson, and her Troy!

Make sure to check out her art blog for more of her amazing shit

Jameson had been right.

This was so much easier than working in the kitchens...

Ari snorted to herself smugly as she popped another piece of hard candy into her mouth, lazily eying the slow crawl of the progress bar on her monitor as the file continued to render.

This was a piece of cake, this was so chilled out in comparison.

She’d thought at first it would have been terrifying, that working in such close proximity with the God King would have been even worse than dealing with the head cooks, but man, she’d had nothing to worry about in retrospect. A whole month now since she’d joined the editing team, and she’d not seen Troy once.

The other editors in his media team had filled her in, and it seemed for all J insisted God King Calypso was a “Pretty normal person under all the bullshit”, he was an enigma to work for. Fair, but weird. Quiet, but frightening. If you handed in your projects on time and didn’t get in his way? The job was piss as long as you had the skills he wanted. Safe lodgings within the main COV compound, food and medical care, and a position in the God King’s own media team was something followers would tear each other’s faces off for, and did according to the footage she was currently working on.

If you didn’t pull your weight though?

Well.

They’d not gone into details, but made clear through hushed warnings that she really should make sure she didn’t fuck this up.

Bobbing her head in time to the music thrumming through her earphones, she slid further into the huge custom chair, pulling her knees up to her chest with a shiver in the cool dark of the editing room. It was always cold in here she’d found, aircon set to suck the heat out of the machines and consoles that lined the rows of editing desks in the dim glow of the sleep mode displays, while Calypso’s throne-like personal station flickered data across the wall of monitors it faced that she’d yet to actually see him use. Helios had been so pompous and insufferably showy when it came to displays of wealth, but even living on the station for years with J before they ended up on Pandora, she’d never had access to tech or setups like this before. “The God Twins provide” really did have credence when you worked directly under them. Everything from the top end rigs to the leather high-backed editing chairs stamped with Troy’s emblem felt like it cost more than she’d ever earn, a sad reality she considered while running her thumb along the bottom row of keys on her backlit keyboard.

Ariana Serino shone at her from the custom board’s base, pulsing red light against matte black just like everything else in the room. For someone who was literally never here, Troy clearly had a tight grip on the department’s aesthetic.

She had hated the kitchens, she really had.

The head cooks were egotistical shitheads with superiority complexes who like so many of the Twins’s followers, saw any step up in authority as somehow being closer to their Gods. They knew she was like a sister to Jameson, and they knew how close Jameson was to Father Troy. It had painted a target on her she’d rather have avoided, and they had never, once, gotten off her damn back.

ANYTHING they could berate her over had been used against her, anything to make them feel like they were better than her. Better than someone so close to the King’s Pastor.

J knew, he’d seen how tired she had been, how stressed. It had been him that had gotten her this sweet gig, and she’d made sure to work her ass off for the last month straight. No one seemed to have actually noticed, but then again, no one was screaming abuse at her either, so she must be doing a good enough job. Troy didn’t come across as the sort of boss to hold back in letting her know if she wasn’t.

Checking in on her next task with a quick click on the flashing mail icon on her screen, she sighed and rolled her stiff shoulders with a stretch, tapping the keybinds to begin the asset download as she scanned the mail contents. _ _

“Let’s Flay 22.12.NL, due scheduling & upload 48 hours fn.

Focus on clip 4, 7, & 11, Ty closeups, keyframes 4-gore use @ clip 1-2. Get that shit visceral.

GKT” _ _

She’d certainly not had any negative feedback from the God King at least, then again, she’d not had any words from him bar these shorthand communications, and they seemed identical to the ones he sent to the full editing group. She’d wondered more than once how much he actually knew about her based on what Jameson had told him in order to get her this position, or, if he actually even knew about her at all.

J loved to gloat to her about all the effort he’d had to labor over to get her in, all the late night convincing and grandiose bullshitting he’d done in her favor to the God King’s ear, wheedling her into the editing team like his own personal project, but honestly? She was pretty sure Troy didn’t even know her name, let alone much else. She was a symbol on his mailing list, a faceless employee to pump out fuel for the COV media machine at his behest, and being so unimportant had some sweet benefits.

Ones like the 3am flashing on the wall clock facing her across the room, neon numbers burning red through the inky darkness.

Mannn, she thought with a smirk as she checked the open messenger app on screen. She’d had such a good lay in today…

Not being important meant no one actually cared when she showed up for her shift. She’d realised last week after oversleeping and arriving hours late in a panic, then not having anyone so much as bat an eye. Shifts here didn’t seem to actually matter. They had assigned ones, but people just seemed to really come and go as they pleased. Long as they clocked in the required amount of hours and sent on their completed tasks, there apparently wasn’t any consequences, and that suited her perfectly.

She could sleep as late in the day as she wanted, drag her ass out of bed and to her desk, and work away till the early AM hours. A nice empty editing studio with no distractions, no colleagues to deal with, and no J pinging her 40 times an hour with silly chatter, she confirmed as she checked the empty notifications in the chat app. He must be asleep, it was literally the only time the guy shut up, not that she’d change that for the world. Jameson filled the sad silences of Ari’s life with infectious positivity. She owed him so much…

The sudden flash of fluorescent light as the room’s door swung open startled her out of her thoughts, and immediately into habits formed a decade ago on Eden-6. She froze, silent, heart slowing as her eyes narrowed and then shifted smoothly towards the danger on the other side of the room as she heard the door slam shut.

Padded, heavy footsteps marked someone’s approach along the side of the low walled editing desk rows, and she sunk lower into the darkness of her cubicle, flattening her silhouette like dad had taught her years ago as she slid the headphones down around her neck. Stay low. Stay quiet. Listen closely. Don’t move. It won’t see you. You won’t be eaten.

She felt her heart skip a beat as the shadow appeared before the predator, the dim lights of the editing room just enough to cast it on the floor as they approached, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she for a moment recognised the narrow height of the shape prowling towards her row. Jameson. Thank God, for a second she’d thought…

No, not Jameson. It was still coming, and the silhouette was only getting larger. Jameson wasn’t this tall. Jameson wasn’t this graceful. She’d convinced herself for a moment that she was safe, but she wasn’t.

Ariana felt her bones turn to ice as the harsh light of the data flickering across the throne’s monitors revealed the towering outline of God King Troy.

He shifted slowly, back turning towards her as he faced his desk, unaware of the woman watching him from under the gaps of her monitors.

He looked.. tired? Smaller, softer. Not exactly as terrifying as she had prepared herself for, not as imposing in a loose sweater and low set glasses as he was in raised collars and draped fur. He was still very clearly Father Troy, but like he’d shucked off a heavy costume after a long day. Neater, less makeup, hair looser and not as spiked. No chains or accessories hanging from his belt, just his slacks and a rolled up sweater sleeve his massive prosthetic was connecting to its socket through.

She trembled nervously as he stiffly lowered his weight into the hulking chair in front of her, settling the cup of coffee he’d been carrying down next to his flesh arm as he deftly hit keys with the cybernetic fingers of his right and began to pull up files across the monitors flashing to life in front of him.

He had no idea she was here Ari realised, beginning to calm as the scent of his coffee filed the room alongside the quick tapping of his mismatched fingers across keys. What was she meant to do…?

He clearly thought he was alone here. She’d never heard of the God King looking like this, the twins were always pristine in their curated appearances when around others. Grunge psycho-chic or draped in gold and jewels, but never average. The idea of Troy looking relatively normal like this? It felt like she shouldn’t be seeing it at all. It felt private. She pressed her palms harder against the flat of her desk and eyed the distance between the curve of his shoulders and the entry doorway she was considering bolting through.

“Shit” she hissed through gritted teeth. He’d catch her, he’d either see her from the corner of his eye or hear the automated door as it opened for her, she was running out of options. If he caught her trying to sneak out, he’d probably be even angrier, right? He’d prefer if she just broke the silence and apologised for interrupting him, she decided as she swallowed the nervous lump insisting on tightening her throat. J said he liked it when people were honest. He liked it when people didn’t bullshit him, and J knew Troy. She should just.. greet him. Dad used to say it was better to face a Tyrant head first than die with its teeth in your back when you tried to run, right?

She slowly straightened, lifting her chest off the desk and leaning silently back into her seat as she carefully tucked her hair behind her ears and flattened out her tank. Wide eyes not leaving the back of his head as he hunched over his station while she began to pump herself up.

You got this Ariana. You’ve faced bigger fangs than this asshole has, he’s just a man. He can be reasonable, just say something.

She breathed out slowly, steadying her lungs before breaking the silence.

“Forgive me your majesty, I didn’t know y-”

She startled out of her sentence as he whipped round to face her, unprepared for the violent speed of his reaction as he rose out his seat.

“WHY ARE YOU HERE??” Troy bellowed over her quiet greeting, and her brain stalled in trying to respond as he stormed towards her desk.

“I.. I.. I’m just.. working some overtime, Father Troy, catching up on som - Ah!”

She flinched as he yanked the mouse out of her hand, ice cold metal digits tearing it out of her fingers and onto the desk in front of him, expertly pulling up her activity monitor script over the chat window where Jameson’s afk profile pic still flashed.

“Overtime? Fucking bullshit.” he growled, flashing gold capped teeth as he sneered inches from her face. “LOOK.”

She cleared her throat quietly, cowering under his looming torso as she snapped her eyes to the onscreen log he was referring to.

“You clocked in 3 hours ago.. Bunny..” -Her chat nick? He’d seen oh god this was so embarrassing oh g- “Overtime means working after your shift, not starting it in the middle of the fucking night. Did you just lie to me?!”

Wow. She was dead. This was it. It was the end. Why’d she ever listened to J, he was an idiot. She should have just run. She was going to be ripped apart by this lanky asshole and it was all J’s fault for insisting he was nice underneath. She was going to haunt that green bitch for the rest of his life. Nothing left to lose now, she accepted with finality. Just be honest. He was either going to break her neck or not.

“I’m.. sorry.” She whispered, then continued as she realised with rising surprise that he was waiting to hear the rest.

“I was very late today and I just wanted.. to make sure I finished these edits for you for tomorrow. I don’t have the right tech in my quarters, it felt like the right thing to do was just stay here and get it done..”

Ari waited as the silence continued, swallowing tightly as she raised her eyes slowly, hoping for a positive reaction. He was quiet, still hovering above her and leaning heavy on the massive prosthetic still resting on her desk as he massaged the bridge of his nose with his human fingers, but his face had relaxed, his mouth no longer a tight grimace. He just looked.. sad, and tired, and like he was done with this.

“You’re Ariana, right?” he muttered through an exhale as he pressed his fingers tighter into the corners of his closed eyes under the glasses.

“Yes Tr-SIR! Sir. Ariana Ser-”

“I don’t care.”

She jumped slightly as the metal limb to her right lifted off the desk as he stood.

“I don’t care when you get the work done. It’s fine.” he sighed, voice rough and quiet.

“I don’t shift people late because I don’t want people here late, but you can stay till you get your shit done.”

His hand dropped to his side as he looked down at her, meeting her worried gaze over the frames of his glasses.

“..but don’t ever lie to me again. You’re here because Jameson recommended you, and as much as a pain in the ass as he can be, I trust Jameson. This is your one strike.”

She slowly felt the tension relax out of her joints as he turned and began to walk back towards his station, flopping down into the massive chair with a sigh as he raised his eyes to hers again.

“If he hadn’t, and you were anyone else and lied to me like that? …You’d be dead where you sat.”

Ari twisted her fingers between her hands nervously as he swiveled towards his monitors and began to type once more. How the hell had she survived that. How had that worked out when she’d been so close to getting the axe, figuratively and literally. She checked the chat app once more while beginning to settle back into a more comfortable position. Jameson was still offline, he was probably sleeping soundly through the most stress she’d had in years, typical.

Opening the editing software again, she began to work on the next clip in her log, painfully aware of typing as quietly as possible so as not to interrupt her new colleague.

As the minutes ticked by, she found herself relaxing slowly. The atmosphere stayed desperately tense, and the God King’s heavy silence punctuated each harsh snap of a key or frustrated sigh he made all the more as they continued to work together. Troy was noticeably on edge, fidgeting in the corner of her vision every now and then, tugging at the rolled shoulder of his sweater or trying to sweep his hair forward as if his appearance was upsetting him, making him feel awkward in some way.

He was angry with himself, more than anything. This was Jameson’s friend. This was his only friend’s closest companion, the person he described as a sister, and this was going to be her first experience of him?

He hadn’t meant to snap earlier. She’d just caught him so unprepared. No one was meant to be here tonight, he should have been able to get these final shots compiled and queued for upload in peace. Instead, he was sitting in the same room as someone he’d probably just terrified, trying to work while hyper aware he was out of character, and he hated being out of character around others. He didn’t even have his fucking hair done, he looked like a tool. This was not the kind of cringe he enjoyed, and he had no experience in how to deal with this situation.

Should he say something? He wasn’t sure, she probably didn’t want to talk to him anyway he worried, glancing over his shoulder at the back of her monitors, just able to make out her hands working away under them. Jameson would tell him to say something, but he didn’t know what that something should even be. What if he just made this worse. This wheedling grip of anxiety in his gut was one of Troy’s least favorite feelings. It was the kind of stupid, unmanageable worry that left your heart beating just a little too fast, your palm sweaty, it was horrible. He liked to be in control, always. Of everything, but especially himself. Feeling like a nervous child in his own damn editing office, where he had come to clear his mind tonight so he could possibly get some sleep later? It was bullshit, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and tapped his fingers against the empty coffee cup to his left, trying to focus on what he should say rather than how awkward the atmosphere was. “You.. uh..”

He winced to himself at how his voice caught in his throat. Great start, God King. Fuck. Get your act on!

“-Ahem- You know Jameson a long time, right?” He prompted, noting the sounds of her typing had stopped in response, and the slight squeak of leather behind him meant she had shifted in her seat.

“Yes sir...” Ari responded meekly, barely audible over the wall of monitors between them.

“Troy. Troy is ok right now. It’s not like there’s anyone else around, huh?” He called back, feeling his confident act begin to fall back into place as his practiced nonchalant speaking tone shifted over the tightness in his voice from a moment ago.

He felt the pull of a smirk at the corners of his mouth as he heard a soft breath of a laugh from Ariana, and the tension beginning to disperse from the room.

“Yes, si-Troy! Sorry. Troy.” She called back, louder this time, and he leaned back a little more comfortably into his seat. “Yeah we’ve known each other a long time!” She continued, voice tilting upwards in obvious excitement.

“We met on Helios, when we were kids.” Ari offered, noting the slight turn of the Holy Twin’s head towards her as he listened.

“Well I was a kid, he was a bit older, but we were in the same class in what passed for a school on that place. He didn’t have many friends his age I guess, and I had no friends at all, so he kind of just attached to me! You know how some people are just like that?” A quiet snort of agreement from the desk in front of her making clear that yes, Troy knew exactly what ‘kind of people’ Jameson was exactly like.

“We just adopted each other then.” She followed. “We’ve kind of always been together since. He talked too much, he said, and that I talked too little! He’s been trying to make me get better at that.. actually.. uhh..” she trailed off, feeling a rush of returned awkwardness in the fact she was currently monologuing at a deity who could rip in her two if she irritated him.  

He shifted further in his seat, turning far enough for her to catch the reflection of his monitors in his eye as he glanced back at her. “No, go on.” he encouraged reassuringly. “Kind of interesting to hear someone else’s opinion of the caustic tool for once.”

She caught the wolfish smirk before he turned back towards his screens, and felt a genuine smile of her own blossom in the relief that she wasn’t talking too much, he actually seemed to be enjoying this in some way. “Sure. Umm... Oh! We left Helios before everything went crazy up there, not long after all that shit happened with Jack. I think the COV was just starting up around then..” she mused for a moment, then let out a short laugh. “He’s my brother now I guess, and like you said before, he’s a pain in the ass, but I wouldn’t trade him for anything!” Ari chuckled, before excitedly continuing. “Oh man! Sorry, I-I mean, I don’t need to explain that, do I! I guess you of all people know all about that kind of feeling for someone like a sibling, right?”

Her smile faded as the seconds ticked by to no response, just the quick tapping of his fingers across the keys as he continued to work. That cold tension began to creep back into the air, and for a moment, she wondered if she really should have shut up earlier. “Where were you before Helios?” he prompted, voice controlled and tone unsettlingly blasé as he deftly opened up 3 more windows and dragged clips into them, his head subtly moving with his eyes as they shifted from file to file. “You clearly weren’t born there.”

The misdirection didn’t escape her, but she knew he was purposefully attempting to put her at ease by continuing the conversation, and it wasn’t a gesture she’d reject. “No, no I was born on Eden-6. I was there my whole childhood with my family before we all moved to-”

His raucous barking laugh interrupted her mid sentence, and she blanched, unsure of what she had said that was funny.

“Eden-6! Mannnnn!” he balked, hiccuping laughter rolling into a growling chuckle. “Dude, sucks for you, that place is a fuckin’ swampass shithole.”

He broke into laughter again, tilting his head back and running his hand back through the thick hair that she realised had been falling in front of his face this whole time, and Ariana saw red.

What the hell was funny about Eden-6? They were living on fucking Pandora by choice, and he calls Eden-6 a shithole? Seriously? She squeezed her fists shut and barely registered the bite of her long nails as they dug into her palms, completely aware she was losing the battle to keep quiet and not say something she’d regret.

“Wow. Funny. So what kind of up-its-own-ass wealthy bullshit homeworld did you come from?” Ari snapped back, before almost instantly reeling from how stupid an idea that outburst was.

She recoiled back into her chair as fear crept up her spine again, and felt her stomach drop even further as he slowly stood out of his seat, turning towards her.

His icy eyes met hers as he crossed the distance between their desks, half hooded and lazy above the rims of his glasses, maintaining their contact as he stopped in front of her monitors and calmly reached his prosthetic over before gently plucking the empty soda can off the desk beside her. She felt a wave of confusion as he turned with one last glare in her direction, before he began to walk towards the wall near the entrance door. She finally noticed he was carrying his coffee cup in the other hand. 

Oh.

He wasn’t going to kill her. He was just.. getting more drinks. For both of them it seemed, considering she could hear the hiss of the team’s coffee machine in the dark, and the quiet open and close of their small stocked fridge. Ari stared down at her hands in her lap, cringing with each step as she heard him approach, desperately embarrassed by her overreaction. 

She winced as she heard the clunk of the soft drink can he’d placed on the desk inches in front of her, and muttered a breathy “Sorry.”, still avoiding looking at him directly. The tap of his prosthetic’s finger on the rim of the can was a clear signal he wanted her to however, and she reluctantly raised her eyes to meet his, painfully aware of her flushed cheeks. 

“Don’t worry about it.” he chuckled, still looming over the rise of her monitors like a lanky predator eying up its next meal. “J said you were good at speaking your mind. I kinda appreciate that with the people I have here. Means the feedback I get is uhh” he raised his eyebrows as he thoughtfully looked to the side “.. actually useful at times.”

“Besides, you’re wrong anyway, little miss thinks-she-knows-shit.” he scoffed, smiling into his coffee as he sipped from the refilled cup, then letting his gaze shift afterwards from the hot drink back to the extremely confused Ariana. “I’m from a shithole too.”

It took her a second for what he’d said to really register, and then Ari laughed. Really laughed, deep from her guts in snorting, gasping bursts. A moment later, he joined her, and for the first time that night it was truly genuine from him, even if it was quiet and tired, and still a little awkward.

The pause after was comfortable, and he stalked back to his chair, slumping into it as he nursed his drink. She eyed the can he’d brought her, the exact same energy drink as what had been empty on her desk, and the realisation he had been paying such attention felt oddly flattering to Ariana, like warmth deep in her belly. She reached out and touched the can, only the sounds of Troy sipping his drink and the fans and quiet clicks of the machine components around them breaking the silence. It wasn’t something she was used to. She was used to not mattering enough to notice things about, and wasn’t sure how to really handle this feeling. It felt welcoming, but frightening. Like being on the precipice of something. Like change.

“By the way” he smoothly interrupted her thoughts as he called over to her “I’m here most nights, around this time. If, you know, you do prefer working late, just keep in mind I’ll be around too. Long as it doesn’t affect your work, I’m ok to share the editing room with you like this.”

Ari was unsure why exactly, but that did something to her. It was innocent, it was an olive branch of friendship, she knew, but the reaction was visceral. Her instincts kicked in once more and a thrill of cold ran up her spine, prompting her to stand quickly and finally attempt to take her leave, approaching his desk nervously to bid her farewell.

“Troy, um, God King, thank you! For.. the chat, it was .. fun?” she stammered while eying the exit door as he lazily watched from over his raised cup.

“I’ve finished the tasks you queued for me so I’m going to, um, go to sleep hahhh.” she laughed unconvincingly, wringing her hands together as she awkwardly sidestepped towards the door, slowly turning away from him as she edged closer to her escape.  

“Mmhm.. sure. Night.” he mused, cocking an eyebrow as he considered her with deep set interest, before continuing just as she reached towards the door controls.

"Oh, and Bunny?“ Troy drawled, watching as she stopped in her tracks and slowly turned to face the editing chair he was draped over.

"Keep all of this - " He gestured lazily between them, and raised a finger to tap the frame of his glasses as he locked eyes with her over the lenses. "- to yourself."

"Being cute doesn't stop wolves from eating little rabbits alive... Understand?“

There was a pregnant silence as Ari parsed the threat, the roaring of her own pulse overpowering the background hum of the cooling fans thrumming in the darkness of the almost entirely empty editing room she was so close to escaping from.

"Yes... sir” she swallowed shakily “ I understand."

She winced at the streak of blue light that pierced the darkness when Troy's metallic canines caught the monitor's glow as his mouth split into a vicious grin.

"Good girl. Sleep tight then. Night night." the God King sneered through those sharp, sharp teeth...

---

But Ariana didn’t sleep tight, and she spent all night trying to work out exactly why.

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

If you enjoyed this I’d love to hear comments or feedback, and you can check the rest of my twins writing:

Here

[borderlandsthirst]

Pet life intro part 1

The moment I stepped foot in the Calypso twin's main stronghold I knew where I was. The twin's private quarters was more than easy to tell apart from the other buildings. The structure loomed over the others. Its dark green with a huge creature skull on the front right over the door.

It looks like engines of various sizes stick out the sides, must be for the esthetic. On the skull is the COV symbol painted on it, red paint drips out the eye sockets.

Apparently I stare in awe for too long because Troy puts his hand on my shoulder and I jolt, startled. The twins laugh and I blush a bit embarrassed. He puts his hand on my back and guides me to the infirmary.

Two psycho doctors await me as we enter, Tyreen motions for me to sit on the examination bed to be checked out. They take my temperature and a sample of my blood to test and see if I have any diseases. All the while Troy and Tyreen stay by my side.

After the exam the twins lead me to another room where there is a huge tub in the middle, four priest, and a long counter stocked with essence, soaps, bath salts, and bubble liquid.

The priest go to undress me and I step back in fear. Tyreen caresses my cheek with the back of her hand. "It's okay darling, we'll be right here with you."

I nod and let the priest undress me, I step into the tub, but I can't bring Mister Eez in with me or he'll get wet. One of the priest offer to hold him but I shake my head and scooted a chair over to me using the force.

They're a bit shocked but the twins instruct them to clean me and so they do. I get a thorough scrubbing from my head to my toes.

By time they're done with me I look like a completely different person. Skin no longer caked with dirt and blood. My hair now free from filth and dandruff, my nails filed, cleaned, and buffed.

The twins help me out and usher the priest out the room. They dry me and give me clothes, cute, freshly dried clothes.