the-loveliest-lotus

[the-loveliest-lotus]

Question for Makina: If you ever met another you from a different universe, what do you think they'd be like?

Canon!Makina: If I had the chance to meet that happier universe, the one with lots of friends and maybe a lover, I would tell her that she's the luckiest girl in the world.

OC Cameo Credits:

Aurora Attic - @neopolitangumdrops

Vivi Skarsgard - @pan-flute-skeleton

Vanessa Leverett - @claudia-nomusaabara

Lucy Sky Desmond - @the-loveliest-lotus

Emilien Bouchard - @sillydorito

Translations: (I apologize if my japanese is grammatically incorrect)

Top Box : Dethklok 3rd annual festival

Bottom Box: Mordhaus dating scandal

[the-loveliest-lotus]

Chapter 14: Counterbalance (Tess's Version), Part 3

Has it really been a month and a half? The thirty chapters I already have waiting are staring at me in judgment. Ah, well. Here you go.

--

Word Count: 1112

Episode Alignment: 1.8

Recommended Soundtrack: "Fourth of July," Sufjan Stevens

Summary: Charles's turn to go a step too far - or, rather, not far enough.

--

“Do you like museums for a date?” asked Charles shortly after Tess thanked Elissa for her time and expertise. Only Tess heard her peals of laughter and a scandalized shout to Anthony before the screen darkened for the night.

“Not especially,” said Tess, “unless it’s an artist or a subject I really want to see. I’m here for sentimental reasons.” She smirked enough for him to see in profile but didn’t look at him. “What about you?”

“Well, dinner always seems to be easiest.”

“Right, because you have to eat anyway.”

“Ah, yes.”

“I agree,” she said. ”But at a certain point it seems…”

“Redundant?”

“Empty. Unfulfilling.” They were reading a plaque leftover from the gala. The case had originally held handwritten pages from St. Augustine of Hippo’s City of God. “What I like most and what I can manage are very rarely the same thing.”

“Mm hmm. Say you could get your way, though.”

“All right… Intellectually appealing, or else I don’t have much of a reason to leave home. If it’s a movie, it had better be interesting enough for me to sit still for two or more hours, plus discuss it afterward.” She gestured around them. “What I like about this is the chance to move around. A bit of a competitive element doesn’t hurt, either, if there’s some trade-off over time so it’s not just one person winning all the time.”

“Oh, I see.”

 “Do you? I’m not convinced.”

“It’s more general than I’ve come to expect from you.”

“Well, a lot of it is context dependent. I don’t have a five-point plan for dates. Do you?”

“What sort of context?”

“The person I’m spending my time with matters.” They watched one another for a lingering moment. “That someone influences how I want to spend my time.” She turned her attention back to a brutal depiction of the fall of Constantinople, but he kept watching her. “Charles? Do you want me to talk about you?”

A half smile was all he gave away.

“I want to hear you say it, then,” she said. He swallowed and kept the half smile, but no more. She turned to the next piece, depicting Hannibal’s charge over the Alps. What it had to do with the apocalypse was unclear, but Elissa would have loved it. “Pity, then,” she said over her shoulder.

He walked, almost crept, beside her and just behind her right shoulder.

“Let’s say it was me, hypothetically speaking,” he said mildly. Unconvincingly casual, carefully rehearsed mildness. Grating, punishable indifference.

He deserves to be toyed with for his dodging questions, his empty answers. On the other hand, he asked as she requested. No one cornered her in this conundrum but herself. Fine, then, she thought. I’ll at least have some fun out of it.

“If it were you, I’d like your hand on my lower back. Yes,” she paused, “just so.”

“That’s not an admissible answer, Ms. Blixt” he said in a darker tone of voice. His thumb lightly grazed her spine. Tess felt primal reflexes coiling from the base of her skull, as if aware of a predator behind her. It didn’t thrill her as it normally would. Something is off.

“Neither was pleading a confidentiality agreement, Counselor.” Her voice had a sharper edge than she wanted. She kept her eyes forward to avoid his glare. It had to be there. An ill feeling crept into her stomach. It was supposed to be a joke, but saying it aloud made her realize that she wasn’t amused.

“Answer the question, please,” he insisted.

This was a familiar, dreadful feeling. He wanted straight answers but continued to dodge questions. In fact, he hadn’t asked her to talk about him as much as he maneuvered for her to do the work. This isn’t fair yet. “You know what? No.” she said, “Not yet. If you expect me to be direct, then I expect equal consideration. The cryptic game is tiring.”

He lifted his hand from her back. Moment of truth, she thought. If he leaves now, then it ends without too much time lost. She stepped away enough to let him breathe. I won’t force your next move, but you must at least make one.

When Charles finally spoke, the softness of his voice seemed to crack the air around them. “I don’t get much time in sunlight. Golf, maybe a daytime appearance here and there.” Tess waited for him to continue. I won’t chase you. “So, ah, the out-of-doors would be nice to, ah, factor in.”

“I love the outdoors. In February I’m trekking the Atlas Mountains for two weeks.”

“Two weeks to yourself. That must be nice.”

“I’m not responsible for five grown men. I can plan my travel accordingly.”

“I can’t say hiking is my favorite thing, but it’s fine.”

“I prefer mountain climbing.” She let some quiet settle. He didn’t push or protest. “What else?”

 “Well, I’m not one to turn down fine dining. The right chef keeps it interesting.” He halted himself a few times, carefully considering his words. “If you’re asking me to paint a word picture then I’m not prepared to do so. You have an unusual way of showing interest.”

“You’re an unusual person; that merits an unusual approach,” she retorted.

“The confidentiality agreement you sent over,” he continued.

“What about it?”

“Overture?”

“Good faith,” she said. Better to show you I’m not interested in a photo op than tell you.

“It limits a lot of options.”

“It does, but it puts a solid boundary between business and pleasure. Mixing the two is—”

“Agreed.”

She nodded. “Me, too.”

“So, was Wejer und Locht a date by your standards.” It didn’t sound like a question.

Tess laughed. “It was an impressive flex. I don’t know if clearing out an entire restaurant is necessary for a date. For future reference.”

He took a breath. “I can’t imagine being bored around you. So far, you’re fascinating.” Tess eased some. He was trying, and that was enough for now.

He stepped closer once again. She could feel the warmth of his hand hovering just near her back, waiting for permission. “Have I earned the right to ask again?”

“Technically you didn’t ask me anything. You posed a hypothetical. Ask me like you mean it. Please.”

“What if it were me?”

 “I’d want to leave our public lives outside. Privacy will do if anonymity isn’t an option. That rules out concerts, industry parties, charity events, and probably a few other things I’m forgetting. It’s limiting, yes, but I’d rather have an hour of quality attention than a day of half-distractions.” She finally looked at him. “So long as you’re willing to meet me partway.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“So will I. Hold each other to it?”

The returning touch of his hand on her back made her eyes close. He didn’t need to say anything this time.

--

The last piece standing in Night was a modern multimedia piece imagining Ferdinand and Isabella both as glorious monarchs and as the Mesoamerican end of days. Work crews were already packing their dread manifestations away. Columbus in death shrouds was already entombed in bubble wrap.

In their dismantling shadow Tess let her imagination run feral. Any future with the still enigmatic man next to her would be an unconventional one. They would not be the couple to binge television or order takeout. They had little room for lazy Sunday mornings or coffee runs. Even a photograph of them on a red carpet would haunt her; charities around the world never stop calling for a chance at an “in” with Dethklok. So much was out of the question.

Yet Tess found their potential greater than any of the common comforts. The sacrifices they made were a choice - a conscious and worthwhile choice. Free time was hard to come by, but as they looked on, she felt more willing to share a portion of hers. There was a specific kind of sympathy there.

If we could understand each other then it’s worthwhile.

He would never ask her to reschedule an important meeting for a date. She couldn’t imagine begging him to hurry up at the office. These, too, were out of the question. Their time together could be truly precious, not because of its scarcity but because of the trust and reciprocity they could build.

To be understood is priceless.

He looked at her as if she said her thoughts aloud. To be understood is worth the price. They could forge something of their own. It's who they were. What they could have easily made up for what couldn't be.

--

Taglist: @the-loveliest-lotus @theveryrealsf3uuf @blarnettebutter @the-gall0ws @chordsykat @explosiontooth @judasbeast

[the-loveliest-lotus]

Chapter 14: Counterbalance (Tess's Version), Part 3

Has it really been a month and a half? The thirty chapters I already have waiting are staring at me in judgment. Ah, well. Here you go.

--

Word Count: 1112

Episode Alignment: 1.8

Recommended Soundtrack: "Delicate," Taylor Swift

Summary: Tess goes a step too far, but is not above admitting it.

Disclaimer: I wrote this, and the character of Elissa Murichs, long before the recent bombing in Lebanon. Neither are a reference in any direction to the current crisis.

--

“—picture of the end is nearly as universal,” continued Elissa, “and mainly differentiates by the type or finality of the Doomsday in question. Floods in particular feature strongly in greater Mesopotamian apocalypse lore, but are not limited to—”

They walked side by side, their earpieces facing away from one another for hushed conversation.

“—while these are not directly classical pieces here, they depict the Hebrew, Ancient Greek, and Mesopotamian interpretations—”

Work crews dismantled the spectacle around them. 

“—the waters that are meant to scrub the earth clean—"

Crews carried crates away in bland ceremony like partygoers leaving the next morning.

“—for a new iteration of humanity in each instance, rather than the end all be all—"

Tess glanced around the stark space lit for the laborers’ benefit. The space felt as unsentimental as death iteself.

“—making the biblical Noah, Hellenic Deukalion, and Mesopotamian Atrahasis the first chapter humanity’s second chance, if you will—"

She sighed. This meeting is also a mistake.

“Is there a problem?” Charles glanced at her.

Tess paused. “You were right, and I apologize.”

“—and if you look you can see the overt similarities between the two, suggesting a unifying source like a regional disaster passed down through oral tradition—”

“Earlier you almost called this a date, or it seemed like you were going to.” He made no protest. “You have a point, but that was not my intention. This was an honest mistake.”

“May I?” Charles reached for her earpiece. She let him remove hers, reducing Elissa’s voice to a distant lull in his hand. “What did you intend?”

“Hold that thought,” said Tess, taking her earpiece and facing the camera away from him.

“Everything all right?” asked Elissa.

“I’m sorry, but I need to handle something,” said Tess. “Write me off if I don’t call back in fifteen minutes.”

“For good reasons, I hope?”

“Thank you for doing this. You’re an angel.” The phone and the earpieces in their case dropped into the abyss of her coat pocket. It gave her a moment to stage her thoughts. “My intent is to build on last time. You asked me how I would have wanted the gala to go, so I thought I’d show you without the distractions.” To my credit, it’s very clever. “You asked about it, so I presume you are still curious.” She smiled. “So am I. But we’re still sizing each other up, and we both seem content with that for now.” Because you are so hard to read. “So, I intend to assess how much of a further time commitment is worthwhile. Yes, commitment.”

“I see.”

“Nothing that presumptuous. If I’m going to bet my time beyond a social call, I want clear buy-in.”

“You want us both to have a level of confidence about it,” he said.

“Precisely,” she said.

“I think what I’m missing is how that differs from a date.”

“Oh, Charles,” she nearly purred, “I end dates much differently.”

“I suppose last time didn’t classify as a date, either.”

“Last time was great; don’t pretend that you planned it any other way. It was also on your terms. Tonight is entirely on mine,” she let a moment pass, “and I am not interested in forcing your next move.” She lightly clapped her hands together. “So, in fairness, I suggest the following alternatives. You pick.”

“Interesting.”

“First, shake hands and say good night.”

“I’m going to have to pass.”

She held back a smile. “Fair enough. Second, call it a night and regroup later.”

“Third?”

She smiled. “Third, continue the evening as is, and we call this a proof of concept for a date. And fourth, we rearrange this evening until it feels a little less date-like.” Charles nodded. “Shall we wander while you think it over?”

“Ah, yes, that would be nice.”

She let him lead the way, moving and speaking with comfortable ease. Of course, I don’t want to force your next move, she thought, I want it to feel like your idea all along.  

He took his time, which was much easier to appreciate without Nostradamus’s unfulfilled Promises. Her heart still rushed as if a cold wind hit her. She could drink up this anticipation all night.

“How about,” he deliberated, “a twist on the third and fourth options. Or three-and-a-half.”

“Interesting,” she said. “What’s the twist?”

He gestured to the rest of the museum. “Let’s see what there is to see now and follow up with a discovery session later.”

“Session. I like that. Not a date, not a meeting.”

“Call it what you will.”

“I will. We may be past our hold time with Dr.—” Elissa’s text waited for her. I know you said fifteen but I am so curious! “—I stand corrected. She’s ready when we are.”

“As to that,” he said, “how long are we expecting that part of the program?”

“Anywhere between zero more minutes and an hour. It’s up to us.” She held up her phone. “Not for you?”

“It’s a nice touch,” he said. Damn right it is. “But, ah, wasn’t who I wanted to hear talk tonight.”

Don’t grin. Damn you, Blixt, don’t you grin like a fucking teenager. I’m watching you. Tess took a deep breath. “That’s fair, and I appreciate it. She is calling in from New York, though, so how about another hybrid?”

“How about we split the difference?”

“Half guided, half self-guided? Deal.” She offered her hand to shake. He narrowed his eyes at her, almost teasing but still suspicious. Her keenness burst through the tight laces of her self-command. Tess laughed from her core, from the very root of herself, the peals echoing in the concrete space.

Elissa saw it in her dearest friend’s flush right away. “Am I on speaker?” she asked.

“Hello again, Doctor,” said Tess with forced articulation. Be cool. “Thank you for your flexibility. We’ll have the rest of the group on in a minute.”

Elissa smirked. “Can I do the dance? Can I?” Tess could see her shimmying in her seat. “Theodora got some booty,” she sang in a giddy decades-old tune, “Booty in a museum—” Tess’s impatient look broke Elissa’s performance into giggling bits.

“Ready, Doctor?”

“No no wait!” she squealed as she had since freshman year.

Tess turned the camera on a frieze. She knew Elissa was holding her breath until she calmed down. “All right, Doctor, you are on air. Is this a good restart point?”

Elissa slipped back into her lecture with a few coughs and stammers. Charles didn’t seem to mind. Tess had a hard time keeping a straight face.

--

Taglist: @the-loveliest-lotus @theveryrealsf3uuf @blarnettebutter @the-gall0ws @chordsykat @explosiontooth @judasbeast

[the-loveliest-lotus]

For the memes lol

OC Credits:

Vanessa Leverett - @claudia-nomusaabara

Vivian 'Vivi' Skarsgard - @pan-flute-skeleton

Caj Stryker - @chordsykat

Lucy Skye Desmond - @the-loveliest-lotus

Jasmine Fauxx - @katusjuice

Aurora Attic - @neopolitangumdrops

Blanca Tennbris - @plvtosun

Fiona Lindstrom - @sillydorito

Zorya Auvelomaa - @mrfelixfischoeder

[the-loveliest-lotus]

Chapter 13: Counterbalance (Tess's Version), Part 2

I'm alive! It's been a monumentally busy and high pressure six weeks, but I return victorious and happy to be here. Tess came from somewhere. Anyway, let's see what she's up to.

--

Word Count: 1259

Episode Alignment: 1.8

Recommended Soundtrack: "Danger," Deathpact

Summary: Tess sets a grand stage with help from a friend.

--

The neutral ground Tess had in mind took a favor or two. Truthfully, it took one direct favor, four indirect favors, four reschedules on both sides, and a reluctant promise to Anthony that brought it all together. All in all, a small investment compared to the potential return. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

She only heard the city noise beyond when the door opened. The visual world was just out of reach. She waited in willing deprivation, kept company only with the staff’s muffled activity and ambient music that almost seemed to brush across her skin.

“Good evening,” a sweet voice said from beyond the black. “You must here for the private party. Right this way.”

A sensation caught her awareness, the feeling that someone was nearby. It reminded her of hearing the crack of undergrowth deep in the woods on a moonless night.

“Charles?” she asked the void. For a moment she heard nothing further, then soft grappling with a chair. Tess had to admit that the fumbling sounds were deeply endearing. “If you don’t say something I’ll have to presume you’re an intruder.” She reached into the silence and grabbed his hand far more clumsily than she intended.

“That had better be Tess,” said a familiar voice. Her name. It should not feel this good simply to be recognized, even just verbally. She forgot to take back her hand.

“Is this neutral enough for you?”

“I suppose this is a Wednesday for you.”

“Brand new territory. We’re the only guests for the next hour and a half. The staff are all blind.” Perhaps he could hear her smile in her voice. “It’s just you, me, and our animal selves.”

“As long as you don’t insist that we dance.”

Tess laughed. “If I do, I promise it won’t be to my advantage. That’s the point of neutral ground.” That’s the entire point.

--

Each course was a surprise based on their favorite colors, even after their buttery-voiced server set their plates and wine within reach. Her guidance spoke in terms of the senses: textures, dominant taste qualities, and the moods they intended to evoke. Sensuous was a cheap word in the modern age, but it was precisely the experience. And precisely the point.

Together they stumbled through aromas, texture, and flavors. They grasped for a sense of awareness through exploring, curiosity, and – undoubtedly – looking a bit ridiculous in the safety of utter darkness. The few bits of conversation that weren’t about the immediate experience were curious in some way, a question, a guess, a musing. Sharing bites across their plates became a predictable disaster, but Tess ventured on anyway. It was a relief that the server led each of them to the washroom before being escorted to the foyer, where a small gift bag with a detailed menu awaited them both.

Tess smiled at Charles squinting against the soft light. “It’s bracing in a way, isn’t it?” she said.

“Well, lighting is important,” he replied.

“So they say.” In her flat shoes she could look at him far more evenly. She noticed what looked like a banana sticker stuck to his shoe heel. “What would you say to an adjustment?”

Charles’s eyes narrowed. “Hmm.” He drew out his silence, but she had nothing but patience. You think you’re the only one who can give nothing away? “It’s only fair at this point, isn’t it?” he finally replied. She heard a cavernous depth to his voice that she hadn’t heard yet.

“I couldn’t agree more,” she said, holding the door for him. “All right with a short walk?”

Overcast had settled over the city, catching the city lights and giving the clouds a deep, bruised glow. Charles said nothing for six blocks. That’s all right; I was on edge when I was in your place. As jarring as the sights and lights were after three courses in darkness, silence seemed like the right counterbalance. Until they reached a reinforced door in an alleyway, that is.

Tess held up a hand before Charles could protest while the other hand fixed an earpiece in place. “We’re here,” she said to her phone.

“I hope you don’t mind,” said Elissa, “I’m staying in my house coat. Just say when, lovie.” Elissa’s dark hair cascaded in perfection over her shoulders, and her makeup shimmered with the warm tones of dusk in the desert. Immaculate as always. No one in their right mind will notice the house coat, thought Tess.

A weary man with facial tattoos opened the heavy door. “You here for the thing?” he said.

“Yes, thank you,” said Tess. “You must be Kai.”

Kai or no, he was in no mood to talk. He led them down a harshly lit freight corridor in surly quiet. Crates, pallets, and packing materials in various stages of use lined the hall. The unmistakable sound of labor echoed in the distance.

“Just give me the signal when you’re ready,” said Elissa. “I can’t see a thing.”

Tess handed Charles a second earpiece in its case. “This will help later,” she said. He took it with visible stiffness in his posture. What would comfort me? Clarity. “We’re getting a special backstage tour. That’s all.”

“A tour of—” the sound of a great curtain falling ahead of them cut his question short. The design on the collapsing blood-red banner was barely visible, but it gave enough away. Tess smiled back at Charles.

She tapped her earpiece. “Go ahead. The camera’s off and we’re on mute for now.”

They wound their way through the museum’s underbelly to the gaping, stark main hall. The special exhibit pieces were being packed back to their lenders, Without the mood lighting the space felt every inch its intended purpose: a place to burn the dead en masse.

“Dr. Murichs?” Tess said to the screen once Charles fixed his earpiece. She turned just enough to keep him out of the screen, even though Elissa knew exactly whom Tess was with. “We’re ready when you are. Going on mute.”

“Good evening, everyone,” Elissa began in her most pristine public speaking voice. “My name is Doctor Elissa Murichs, and I am delighted to give you this exclusive curated tour of the Skagerakk Fredrickshaven Museum of Antiquity’s feature exhibit highlighting art inspired by the perceived end of the world. If you’ll please point the camera forward – thank you, Ms. Blixt – we’re going to start in the east wing dedicated to flood myths. Please walk carefully; work crews should be filling in the canal features as we speak.”

Charles neared Tess to whisper to her. “Did you bring a friend to our—” he hesitated, “—ah, discovery meeting?”

Tess glanced at him, unconvinced. “You brought minions to our first meeting. You can concede me one subject matter expert.” He offered his arm in acceptance, which Tess was happy to take. Even without the assault of stimulants, depressants, and aphrodisiacs from their last walk through this hall, his nearness brought a delightful rush.

“A bit about me,” continued Elissa, “I hold a PhD in art history and archaeology from Columbia University, I am the Sotheby’s managing director of global fine art, and I am a consultant with both UNESCO and the Lebanese government. It is an honor to facilitate this tour for Ms. Blixt, who is a dear friend and a colleague and philanthropist par excellence.”

“A silent tour to follow the sightless meal?”

Tess shook her head. “We can talk as much as we like. She can’t hear us, so it’s not like we’ll interrupt her. Plus, you’re spared me plugging my knowledge gaps with obvious fiction.”

“I, ah, wouldn’t find that entirely disinteresting,” he said.

She smirked back. “So you can learn my tells? Clever, but you’ll have to go the old-fashioned way for that.”

--

Taglist: @the-loveliest-lotus @theveryrealsf3uuf @blarnettebutter @the-gall0ws @chordsykat @explosiontooth @judasbeast

[the-loveliest-lotus]

I want this old man pussy so bad. thank you @gaskarth for the pose idea!!

[the-loveliest-lotus]

He's going to have sleep apnea!!! Dick nooooooo!!!

And extra, dickface yuri

[the-loveliest-lotus]

oh lawd, it him

[the-loveliest-lotus]

all i know is that minimum wage dick is insane. the best sex i've ever had was with guys who worked at like amazon warehouses and grocery store delis. there's a Rage there you don't get from trust fund dick

.

[the-loveliest-lotus]

Mildy Devious but Very Practical Sorcery to Endear People to Your OC

So, you're doing it! You're starting a new fanfiction with an original character, self insert, or someone else otherwise foreign to the regular canon cast - good show! But! This is not your first rodeo and you know from experience that it can be a tough climb, getting readers to accept this new face into the fold. You realize such things take time, but for this fanfiction, you're looking to employ strategies that will get the audience on your new little baby's side, pretty immediately... what ever shall you do?

The following list of writing tricks is offered with the understanding that you, the writer, consider yourself fairly capable at the skill, and understand that this guide won't cover obvious things that so many other tutorials recommend -- like having an interesting backstory for your character and being relatively good at spinning a yarn. None of these suggestions are replacements for good storytelling! They are, in fact, merely supplemental to it.

That out of the way, let us begin...

Easy Tricks:

#1, Make Your OC the Villain

May seem counterintuitive, but hear me out. No matter what you think and believe about your own character, people are probably going to go into a story distrusting the new guy. It's just the way it is. So why not meet them where they are? Besides -- it's fun to see characters grow into heroes rather than starting them out that way. Wherever they end up, the people reading about them will be relating to them way more, by the time they get there.

#2, Pit Your OC and the Canon Cast Against an Irredeemable Villain

Nothing gets people on the side of some rando faster than a villain who is so unstoppable, so cruel, so utterly loathsome, the readers can't help but cheer on anyone who would stand against them. It doesn't have to be some all-powerful megalomaniac, either. Evil ex-girlfriends work great for this one. The slimier and more despicable the better!

#3, Torture Your OC (Kinky)

The author's barely hidden fetish suddenly comes out to ensnare the new guy and simultaneously flips a sexy switch in some readers' minds that makes them say "That's kinda hot". Is this one a bit unethical? Probably.

#4, Torture Your OC (Non-Kinky)

If you're not into sexual Jedi mind-tricks, then good old-fashioned antagonizing of fictional characters works wonders to bring an audience to care about someone, no matter how real they may be. Bonus points if they die (see tip #7).

Advanced Tricks:

#5, Make Your OC Insanely Attractive

This one needs to be handled with care, as making a character attractive and making them believably so, are two different things. Some readers straight up hate it when someone is described as too-pretty, too-popular, too-rich, or too-famous, so it usually takes time and a little finesse.

#6, Make Your OC Save the Day

As with the attractive-factor, you gotta score points in believability before you can just let this one happen. People don't like OCs who take the spotlight away from the canon cast until they've earned the right to do so. That said, if you do manage to pull this off, you may be rewarded with that rare and wonderful thing -- your OC having its own fanbase.

#7, Make Your OC Dead

If your fairly-likable character dies at the end of the story, you might find people elevating them to very-likable martyr status. That said, if your OC wasn't worth rooting for, for the entire time they were in your fanfic, don't expect their untimely demise to redeem them. Big gamble, all things considered, and you pretty much have to assure they're going to stay dead for at least one story arc... But people *do* tend to view the dearly departed in a more forgiving light, even if they're not real.

As was stated in the introduction, a lot of these do not make up for good storytelling and solid character development, but they can be great in addition to all that. Too, you may want to combine some of them, and see what kind of results you get. And as always, the longer an audience knows someone, the more they tend to trust them. Therefore, if you want to follow one big piece of advice and plan to go the distance anyway, then please... Don't stop writing their story!

[the-loveliest-lotus]

Lucy is poly, and she is stupid-level in love with Knubbler, maybe the two of them disco dancing together? ♡

Disco Inferno

A chance to draw Knubbler again, don’t mind if I do. ;3 We love and support a Polyamourous queen. 💙❤️🖤💛

I ended up giving your OC some new clothes for the occasion, I hope you don’t mind. ^0^;;

Anyway, hope you like the art friendo! :D

[the-loveliest-lotus]

Me again! I know of Lasagna, who's her own character, but I'm not sure who you mean as her mother, since she and her actual mother aren't on good terms. Maybe you mean @dolly-macabre's Dolly? If you'd like more OC recommendations, @thatwritingho's Olive and @gointothevvater's St. Cecilia are pretty popular, and everyone's absolutely wild for @chordsykat's Baen Shee girls! <3

OH ok see i knew i was getting shit mixed up! Ive seen St. Cecilia ( a fellow charles girl she has so much taste frrr.)

omg I will check all these out bc like i said I love ocs. Ive just been in my own world bc its been hard for me to into anything for a while (besides splatoon but yknow)

thank u again omg and also everyone who reads this thank u for asking about ocs i hope ppl like Firth as much as these ocs!!!

[the-loveliest-lotus]

Skwisgaar is Vivi's boo. Can I get "flirty banter" moment between them?

Passion in words

Let’s go!!!! >:3 The flirt game is 1000% strong between these two. Not gonna lie, I’m so happy that Vivi turned out so cute here. <3

I hope you like the art friendo! :D

[the-loveliest-lotus]

Chapter 13: Counterbalance (Tess's Version), Part 3

Yes, I'm weeks late on my own calendar. There was a vacation, a lot of work, a detox from Discord, and a few well-earned naps. All is well here. Enjoy an interlude with Tess and Trevor.

Word Count: 1159

Episode Alignment: 1.8

Recommended Soundtrack: "Therefore I Am," Billie Eilish

Summary: Tess has a life outside of Charles's sphere.

--

Fog encased the world below Theodora’s apartment, throwing the dawning sun into soft bleakness. Any small light was enough to wake her, like it or no. Her brain was split in a civil war, the front of her head fuzzier and more shrouded than the sky outside, while some malicious thing dug its claws into the back of her skull. Calling all adrenaline angels, she thought scrolling through her emergency motivation playlists. “Sandstorm” on repeat would have to do.

The Train Yard was almost empty when Tess walked in, steamy and panting from her run. A giant, beautifully muscled blonde man turned to the sound of the opening door.

“It’s nearly nine,” he said, surprise laced through his working-class English baritone. Common as muck, he called it, though Theodora assumed he descended from classical gods.

“Greg,” said Tess, still catching her breath. “Hi. Miss me?”

Greg narrowed his eyes. “Are you—are you hungover?” Tess shrugged and grinned, resting her elbows on her knees. He couldn’t help but laugh. “Is it bad?”

“Nothing you can’t. Handle.” Another gasp. “Me? Different question.”

Greg offered his strong, calloused hand. “Let’s burn off the rest of that alcohol, then.”

--

Two hours later Tess was home again. Her legs ached. She shone with three or four new coats of sweat. The endorphins in her blood thrummed, especially in the delicate spots where she would definitely find a bruise later. Bless you, Greg, you absolute beauty.

Tess sometimes wondered if she made her home base here for professional convenience, or because she had yet to find a better boxing coach on three continents.

A text from Trevor. Ignore the schedule I sent! It’s already changed. Give me 5.

Another in immediate pursuit. Cool to call? Her ringtone causing his phone to jump was her answer.

“Chesterfield Pharm wants to meet today,” said Trevor as a greeting. “They’re extra insistent about it, and if we move them up you can take an earlier flight to London. It’s a big pharmaceutical research project.”

“Did they send specs?” asked Tess between bites of frittata. “Case statements, anything?”

“Standard marketing schlock, no real data. I asked all the usual questions.”

“I know you did.” She let another bite give her time to think. “How big a squeeze?”

“Enough that I’m asking you, not so much that I shut them down. It sounds like they have a lot of backing already. They did the thing, though, so that’s the one red flag.”

“Oh, really?” Her voice flattened with disinterest. She took a long sip of tea.

“It was the mild kind, like,” his voice took on a shrill caricature. “We have other consultants who are interested, and we have a lot of projects going, so we will have to pick someone else if we have to delay for too long.”

Tess rolled her eyes. Fabricating urgency is a threat for the passive aggressive. “Move it but keep it to an hour. Hard stop. Let me know when you update the flight information.” She glanced at the stack of papers in her printer. “Also, ask your assistant manager friend from the gala what Mordhaus’s preferred courier service is. I have some follow up documents from last night.”

--

This meeting is a mistake, thought Tess.

No one else in the room seemed to agree. Two sets of young professionals stared down the table at Tess with expectant, laminated smiles. Only the marketing materials gleamed glossier and with less sincerity than the marketers.

“So,” a beautifully eager blonde announced, “how much do you think you could raise for our project by the end of the fiscal year?”

“Well,” said Tess with carefully rationed sweetness, “as exciting as your project sounds, I can’t go forward without answers to the question that my assistant and I asked several times.” The table of polished beauties blinked back at her, waiting in vain. “And if I can’t go forward, then I can’t be part of the project.”

Now the serene confidence started to crack. Glances shifted nervously to each other.

“Such as?” a redheaded young man tried to calmly inquire.

“Everything that I already mentioned several times. Do you need me to repeat it?” Don’t bite the kid’s head off. This might be his first job.

“Perhaps you need us to repeat ourselves,” moaned a voice from across the table. One of the Chesterfields sat across from her. His pale skin, pinched cheekbones, and deep side part gave the appearance of a starvation victim with a combover. “You seem to forget that we have military contracts to recommend us. We are globally prestigious. Don’t forget which one of us needs the other more.”

Tess was glad she already beat the shit out of something this morning, or the temptation would be unbearable. “You have a great deal to recommend you to investors. Investors, not donors. If you’re looking to make this a charitable endeavor then you have a few more matters to settle. I’ll be happy to revisit a collaboration then.”

“Once again,” said Chesterfield, “you seem to forget that we have the United Celebrities of the World Foundation’s business. We’re a beneficiary for their next gala.”

“I haven’t forgotten any of these details, thank you. It’s very impressive that the United Celebrities of the World Foundation are partnering with you despite,” she checked her notes, “your lack of a fully legal nonprofit status, your muddy financials and impact report—and, ah yes, the fact that your charitable arm seems to be funneling money right back into the for-profit side.” She smiled as placidly as she could.

This only made Chesterfield angrier. His skin tightened as if it would reveal a fire-eyed skeleton with an even wilder combover. “I was misinformed about you, Ms. Blixt,” he seethed. “I was told you could sell anything.”

Tess rose. “I’m not a salesperson; I am a trust broker. I don’t trust what I’ve seen.” I don’t trust you, you wraith. She focused on the now-grimacing junior staff. “Thank you for your time today. It’s a compelling presentation. Do feel free to reach out when these issues are settled.” A series of stunned hands shook hers as she rounded the table—all but Chesterfield, who just glowered in a sickly green light that seemed to seep out of his sour expression.

--

“They can go straight to voicemail until they’re in order,” said Tess to Trevor from the car.

“Hooray,” crooned Trevor. “Speaking of documents, got the receipt from the couriers.” Ah, yes. “They’re asking about follow-up.”

“Great. Share my current availability. No shuffling unless it must be pushed after London.”

“Mm hmm.”

“Is that something you want to share with the rest of the class?”

“Nope. Heard you loud and clear: share your calendar—”

“Availability only.”

“Right. Share your openings.” Mirth crept into his voice. “Offer new openings if needed. Fill opening before London.”

Tess waited for Trevor to laugh or compose himself. He did neither.

--

Taglist: @the-loveliest-lotus @theveryrealsf3uuf @blarnettebutter @the-gall0ws @chordsykat @explosiontooth @judasbeast

[the-loveliest-lotus]

Kinda didn't follow the long distance prompt but day five last year was my most emotional story so I'm keeping that up. @the-loveliest-lotus's Lucy Skye Desmond comes by and brings that witchy energy. Also if you read Vivi's prequel story, All the Salt in the World, you will be rewarded with this story.

[the-loveliest-lotus]

Metalocalypse OC week 2024, Day 4: Flirty or Friendly banter

Makina is trying to get relationship advice at the bar. Wonder who’s she talking about?

OC credits:

Vivian 'Vivi' Skarsgard - @pan-flute-skeleton

Lucy Skye Desmond - @the-loveliest-lotus

[the-loveliest-lotus]

Metalocalypse Original Character Week: Day 2 ~ Fankids, Fanparents & Fan-mily

I'm considering to have Rory meet her bio dad, who lives in the Philippines with a whole family, post-AOTD. He'd... probably be a little bit concerned about his daughter having two boyfriends, let alone, both of the guitarists of Dethklok. He cares about his daughter that he just met tho Cx

Btw, Rory's dad's name is Vinusto, or you can call him "Vinny" :3

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