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alpaca-clouds · 5 months

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How to cook in a medieval setting

Alright. As some of the people, who follow me for a longer while know... I do have opinions about cooking in historical settings. For everyone else a bit of backstory: When I was still LARPing, I would usually come to LARP as a camp cook, making somewhat historically accurate food and selling it for ingame coin. As such I know a bit about how to cook with a historical set up. And given I am getting so much into DnD and DnD stories right now, let me share a bit for those who might be interested (for example for stories and such).

🍲Cooking at Home

First things first: For the longest time in history most people did not have actual kitchens. Because actual kitchens were rather rare. Most people cooked their food over their one fireplace at home, which looked something like what you see above. There was something made of metal hanging over the fireplace. At times this was on hinges and movable, at times it was set in place. You could hang pots and kettles over it. When it came to pans, people either had a mount they would put over the fire or some kind of grid they could easily put into place there with some sourts of mounts (like the two metal thingies you can see above).

If you have a modern kitchen, you are obviously used to cook on several cooktops (for most people it is probably four of them), while in this historical you obviously only had one fire. Of course, as you can also see in the picture above, you could often put two smaller pots over the flames or put in a pan onto the fire additionally. But yes, the way we cook in modern times is very different.

Because of this a lot of people often ate stews and soups of sort. You could make those in just one pot - and often could eat from the same stew for days. In a lot of taverns the people had an "everything stew" going, which worked on the idea that everyone just brought their food leftovers, which were all put into one pot everyone would eat from.

Now, some alert readers might have also noticed something: What about bread and pastries? If you only have one fireplace and no oven, how did people make bread?

Well, there were usually three different methods for this. The most common one was communal ovens. Often people had one communal oven in a neighborhood. Especially in a village there might just be a communal oven everyone would just put their bread in to bake. (Though often this oven would only be fired up once or twice a week.)

The second version to deal with this some people used was a sort of what we today call a dutch oven. A pot made either of metal or clay with a lit you would put into the hot coals and then put bread or pastries into that, baking it like that.

There was also a version where people just baked bread in pans on the fire, rotating the bread during the baking process. At least some written accounts we have seem to imply. (Never tried this method, though. I have no idea how this might work. My camp bread was mostly done in dutch ovens or as stickbread.)

Keep in mind that the fireplace at home was very important for the people in historical times. Because it was their one source of warmth in the house.

🏕️ Cooking at Camp

Technically speaking cooking at camp is not that different - with the exception of course that you have to drag all your supplies along. And while in Baldur's Gate 3 and most other videogames you can carry around several sets of full-plate armor and several pounds of ingredients so that dear Gale can whip something up... In real life as an adventurer running around you need to make decisions on what to take along.

If you have read Lord of the Rings, you might remember how many people have criticized Sam for actually dragging all his cooking supplies along and how sad he was for not being able to cook for most of the time, because they were very limited in taking ingredients along.

So, yes, if you are an adventurer who is camping out in the open, you will probably need to do a lot of hunting and gathering to eat during your travels. You can take food for a couple of days along, but not for a lot.

A special challenge is of course, that while you can cook food for several days when you are at homes, you do not want to drag along a prepared stew for several days. So usually you will cook in smaller batches.

A lot of people who were journeying would often just take along one or two pots along.

So, what would you eat as an adventurer travelling around while trying to save the world from some evil forces? Well, it would depend on the time of the year of course. You would probably hunt yourself some food. For example hares, birds or squirrels. Mostly small things you can eat within one or two days. You do not want to drag along half a dead deer. In the warm months you might also forrage for all sorts of greens. You also can cook with many sorts of roots. Of course you can also always look into berries and other fruits you might find.

Things you might bring with you might be salt and some spices. A good thing to bring along would be herbs for tea, too, because I can tell you from experience that water you might have gotten from a river does not always taste very well - and springs with fresh water are often not accessible.

Now, other than what you can access the basic ideas of camping fires and cooking with them has not changed in the last few thousand years. While modern people camping usually have a car nearby and hence will have access to a lot of ingredients. But the general ideas of how to build a fire and put a pot over it... has not really changed.

So, yeah.

Just keep in mind that for the most part in historical settings until fairly recently, there was not much terms of proper kitchens. People cooked over an open fire and hence had to get at times ingenius about it.

#dungeons & dragons #baldurs gate 3 #lord of the rings #medieval europe #medieval #cooking #medieval cooking #food history #historical settings #history #european history #writing #fantasy #writing resources

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grimaussiewitch · 1 year

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More small fic ideas:

Toy Jimmy but he’s not a rag doll toy but instead is made of porcelain. His body is okay with respawns but after rapid and draining respawns can cause paint to fade and cracks forming. He can remove body parts but they can’t move if they’re a meter around from him. Set before Fwhip is fired from his deputy job, Joel taunts Jimmy in front of the jail. Just before he flys off, Joel shoots an arrow straight into Jimmy’s face. Fwhip arrives with hurt and comfort. Jimmy is missing part of his left eye and now angst.

Empires season 1 Joel headcanon: he’s made out of magical terracotta. He has to form himself out of clay, making hundreds of clay copies of himself. Joel is very breakable and every time he respawns he respawns into one of the clones. After the destruction of all of the empires and Lizzie, the love of his life, disappearing, Joel over the years couldn’t bring himself to make clay sculptures of himself. Perhaps he made art of over emperors? Trying to remember the faces of old friends, enemies, and love. Maybe that’s how King Joel of Mezlia died of a broken heart?

Toy!Jimmy turning everyone into toys but unlike him, they can’t move or speak. Bonus angst, he leaves Tango for last.

Phil gets turn into a teenager without any memories after that age, no wings and no immortality. It’s up to bench trio to stop him from accidentally killing himself. Hilarity ensures.

After double life, scar and grian’s sound based injuries carry over back to hermitcraft. Do they get their hearing back from the glitch or learn to live life without sound.

Sbi family au but Tommy and Tubbo swap places. So possible twinduo or techno is just a family friend/uncle friend, Wilbur is Phil and Kristen’s kid, Tubbo was found by Wilbur and raised by him via brother/brother friendship while Tommy was this random kid they found on the side of the road. Tubbo was also childhood friends with Eryn. Basically how would the story go if the two swapped places? How did they develop and what’s their friendships towards other people? Would Tommy had idolised Schlatt or stood up against him more in the manburg arc? What’s Tubbo’s relationship with dream wand what object or objects does Dream have control over him? How does bench trio work and the aftermath of L’Manburg blowing up a second time?

An au where Eret never became king again. He helps to repair damaged relationships and helps to build a new bakery with Niki for Niki. Maybe friendship drama because hey niki, trying to kill Tommy won’t solve anything, lets just bake our feelings into bread and then eat said bread. I dunno maybe a pirate adventure with puffy as well for good measures.

With the empires x hermitcraft crossover, what if while most of the hermits are stuck over in empires, there’s a sudden arrival of a bunch of new people on hermitcraft; Dream smp members. There are too many nations being built up… Just imagine the hermits coming back and Xb and Beef talk about the wars and nations that happened with these new guests.

I want a villain arc for Jimmy so an au where he becomes a new super secret bandit but nobody knows it’s him would be brilliant. Maybe he tries to frame Joey for crimes, especially after a big one. But it turns out he had an alibi so Joey isn’t thieving around for once or he’s stealing smaller things. And Joey wouldn’t blow up parts of peoples empires or kill them a bunch. One day Joel demands that the bandit be found as all of the gold from his empire went missing overnight. During a meeting between the empires it’s revealed to be Jimmy all along who then proceeds to flee via a tnt distraction. Tumbler town is now in lockdown with Jimmy still ruling.

Double life but it’s body swap instead. So tango <-> Jimmy, Grian <-> Scar and so on.

Werewolf!Ren finds out that both sun god bdubs and princess of dawn gem are also werewolves. The whole sleeping through the night is so they don’t have to face transforming because blah blah blah bad experiences or scared. Just, more werewolf au’s.

Vampire Sbi but Phil is the only human and the boys use him to get stuff. Like yes Wilbur and techno were turned in their early-mid twenties but sometimes you gotta use a human to get stuff. Along with Tommy being turned at 16 can’t buy certain things so PHILLLLLLL.

Everyone but one person on every server are hybrids, gods or eldritch horrors. Some picks: Human Tubbo or Tommy or both, Human Keralis and finally human Pix or Jimmy.

Owen doesn’t get turned back into a Llama but Scott does.

Sculk possessed!Cubfan infects Katherine so there’s nature wives angst.

Vex!Scar trying to slap sculk!Cub back to his senses because you can only be possessed by one thing and it has to be as a duo!

Crack fic where Joel gets turned into a toy for a day because karma or something.

More god and deities chill out on the empires server. Aka, Kristen the Goddess of death.

Deity!Elaina propaganda because fuck you I heard she likes space so she is a god now. Also it would be funny for c!Eret to have more god connections like foolish and herobrine.

#grim talks #grim’s fic idea list #mcytblr #fanfic ideas #fanfic inspiration #inspiration

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pbandjesse · 1 year

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I had a really excellent day off. I was chill. I was productive. I did so much lounging. It was great.

I slept okay last night. I had some wild dreams again. I actually read the other day that melatonin can cause wild and intense dreams. So maybe that's why I am the way I am.

I woke up enough to say goodbye to James. And slept until 930.

When I woke up I knew I was going to wash my hair. But I wasn't in a rush. I had nowhere to be and no where to go. So I stayed in bed until 10 watching stuff on my phone. And then got up for my day time shower.

I washed my hair really good. And I let my hair mostly air dry. I put on some very comfy clothes. It was the perfect temperature in here and I was never uncomfortable. It was great.

I had the rest of my egg salad for breakfast. And shared a little with Sweetp. It was a nice morning.

I wasn't exactly sure what I wanted to do. Not much. My hair was still wet. So I would just lay on the couch with my hair fanned out behind me and played on my phone for a while. Eventually my hair was a little more cry. I did hit it with the hair dryer just a bit at my roots. And then got into making my wishlist of supplies for camp. Which would take a while. Mostly because my laptop struggles. But I got through all my projects and made great choices in my opinion. I'm excited for this summer.

I did some more vacuuming and I made more jello. But the big project for the afternoon was my market table.

I want to redesign it around the idea of food and picnic. So I am using our suitcase picnic table. Which also has the benefit of having built in seats which can be used for different levels. I want to have different things this year. Including stickers and pins. I figured out what size pin could go in my candy machine. And then spent the next hour sculpting little clay bears (4 kinds for variety) and baking them. The plan is to make a mold and cast them in resin. Tomorrow me and James are going to go pick some mold making materials up tomorrow. I think they are going to be so cute when they are done. Much like my gummy bear pin that the kids always want to take from me. But a little weirder and closer to my stuffed friends.

Once that was done I laid down again on the couch. Cut up a mango for a snack. And just enjoyed hanging out.

Eventually I would go do some organizing of my stuffed friends. Figuring out which ones need repair and putting them to the side. I am almost all out of fluffy bears. So I will have to make more of those soon. I also decided to try to make some loom knit pieces but the machine I have is just. Not working properly. I want to get a better one. Maybe that is what I'll use with the birthday money my parents gave me. I think that would be a really good use for it.

I would chill in bed working on my smaller hand loom for the next hour or so. James would get home in that time. I was really happy to see them. We decided on pizza and salad for dinner. So about an hour after they got home they headed out again. To get gas and pick up dinner. And while they were gone I got out plates and things.

We had dinner in the living room. And then I decided to do some more tablet drawing.

I designed a few more stickers. I want some funny ones. And so I did a shopping bag. And a farmer and a cup of hot chocolate where the bears are marshmallows. And then Jess suggested a farmer. And I thought a gamer neck beard would be funny. And I just drew and drew for a few hours and was having the best time. I want to make a bunch of these. I am really pleased with my ideas and like I usually say I don't draw because I don't have good 2D ideas but these have been a blast so far.

My dad called and we chatted for a while. We talked about how the new fleshtoned leg he got upset him. And I don't blame him. It's to uncanny. I have heard something very similar with people with missing eyes. And that having stranger prosthetics actually makes them feel better. He also asked if I could help with fixing his pants to be easier over the leg. So I will try to solve this problem!

Me and James cuddled on the couch for a while. Until my allergies went a little crazy. And I had to leave the couch and take something and wash my face. I am still pretty uncomfortable right now but it's getting better.

We are in bed now. And I am pretty tired. I feel happy though.

Me and James are going to camp tomorrow to do filming and I hope it is a good day. I hope you all have a good sleep and take care of each other. Goodnight everyone!!

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clownaroundtown · 4 years

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How To Make Your Own Clown Doll ! (A Guide)

Hello good people !!

I have made a few clown dolls before, and someone submitted a question asking if I followed any guide for them or had a guide myself. I sorta made it up as I went for the first doll, but I have learned better methods of doing things since then!

Here is my guide on how to make some dudes for yourself!

You will need:

Fabric for the body - I used an off-white fleece for the torso and limbs for this one, but have previously used a thin off-white sorta cotton fabric, which works better if you want floppier/thinner limbs!

Fabric for the clothes - Use whatever you want, honestly! I used some cool stretchy silver-metallic fabric for mine but have previously used cotton and polyester patterned fabrics !

Polymer clay - I used Sculpey III for this one, but for my previous two I used some other kind of Sculpey that was very very light and airy, which made it hard to sculpt properly without squishing it! If you want to add any detail to the face shape, use some firm polymer clay !

Posca pens (optional) and acrylic paints - Acrylics are used for the base coat on the head. I used the paints for the details too previously, but used posca pens on this one which was much easier to do the face details with! Either works just fine, though : )

Faux fur - for hair! If you want a bald clown or one with just a hat without hair, you don't need this!

Decorative trims and such - I used some pink frilly elastic trim, blue dotted non-elastic trim, white elastic frilly mesh, buttons, a silver bell and some blue velvet ribbon for this guy! You can literally use whatever you want (ribbons, bows, pom-poms, lace, etc) to make your clown look cute!!

Varnish - Use spray varnish if you can! It'll help prevent the face paint from smudging (all 3 of mine have had this happen using varnish with a brush). It is possible to use varnish with a brush on them but be careful with it! I used sculpey gloss varnish.

Tin/aluminium foil

Basic sewing supplies (needles, thread, pins, scissors)

Steps

1. Make a ball out of the foil, a little smaller than the size you want the finished head.

2. Cover it in a layer of Sculpey and sculpt the face shape you want. Include a pretty thick neck with the base at the bottom WIDER than the rest of the neck. This will be how the head is anchored to the body!

3. Bake the clay, let it cool, and sand it down so that it is nice and even without any finger-prints!

4. Paint a base coat on it with acrylic paints!

5. Paint/draw on whatever face details you want using acrylics or posca pens! Let your creativity flow!!

6. Varnish it!

7. Draw out the body pieces (torso and limbs) on your body fabric. You'll need two torso pieces, four leg pieces and four arm pieces. Honestly there's no method to what shape to draw, just draw what shapes you want them to be! (Remember to reverse each second piece though so that they match up when sewing them together). I used a rounded rectangle for the torso, and chose to make the legs on mine very long!

8. Cut out all the pieces and sew them together with the CORRECT sides facing INWARDS and the WRONG sides facing outwards. Once sewn, flip them inside out. MAKE SURE TO LEAVE THE TOP SIDE OF THE TORSO UN-SEWN TO INSERT THE HEAD!

9. Almost fully fill the body with plastic pellets, and only partially fill the limbs (I filled them about 1/4 full)! If you don't have those, use dry rice like I did (or dry lentils) or sand! If you use sand, ensure sure you make your stitches REALLY close together so sand doesn't come out of any gaps! If you want the limbs to be chunkier, fill them with more pellets OR stuff the rest of them with poly-fill or cotton wool!

10. Insert the neck into the torso and sew the opening tight around it, like this! The wide base of the neck stops the head from coming out : )

11. Sew on the limbs! The stitching doesn't have to be perfect here since the clothes will hide it!

12. Make the clothes! You can make whatever kind of clothing you like; I just made a baggy little jumpsuit sorta thing for my guy! To do this, I laid the clown out on the fabric and roughly drew the shape for clothes around him based on what I wanted! Flip it, lay it down in the fabric again and then trace this to get the second jumpsuit piece!

13. Use the same method of sewing the pieces together with the CORRECT sides facing each other so the WRONG sides are facing outwards. Then turn the clothes inside-out so that the right sides are now facing outwards! MAKE SURE TO LEAVE OPENINGS FOR THE HEAD AND LIMBS TO COME OUT THROUGH!

14. Put the clothes on the clown!!

15. (Optional) Glue fake fur on the top of the head in the style you want it! I used hot glue because I didn't have anything else, but fabric glues and all-purpose glues would be good too! If you don't want hair, just skip this step!

16. (Optional) Hat!! Cut out a wide triangle shape, sew the opposite sides together and then sew a circle to the base if you want a pointy hat like my dude's one (I don't have photos of this sadly but I'm sure there's a tutorial out there of how to sew a cone)! Then glue the base to the top of the head.

16. And finally, add all the trims and extra bits you want to make them look super cute !!! I just sewed on some ribbon to the base of the hat and around the ankles, sewed some frilly elastic trims around the neck, added a little silver bell to the hat, sewed frilly trim around the wrists and ankles and then sewed two buttons onto the front of his clothes!

And then, your little clown is done !!!

I hope this comes in handy to anyone wanting to make their own clown dude!

I would appreciate any reblogs and such of this to help spread the clown joy !!

Have fun !!!

(Small note! I would appreciate if you didn't copy any of my clowns directly! Please use this as more of a guide than an exact tutorial to make this specific clown! Being creative with yours is much more fun!! :•D)

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stuff-from-the-void-matron · 3 years

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Laurel Wreaths & Animal Teeth (3)

(c!technoblade x fem!reader)

(some people liked chapter 2 so here’s chapter 3. whether or not there’s a chapter 4 is dependent on if this one gets any comments/reblogs.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’re not exactly sure when your plans for a house shifted from ‘maybe a two story house’ into ‘some kinda roman temple/shrine type building’ instead.

Probably after the third time you had to tear down what you were building because it just didn’t look right. You’d initially not been able to go anywhere with the white quartz (you’d made a base but it looked stupid so you’d tossed it) so you’d switched it with a birch wood. That was where the problems started. First you’d tried your hand at making a cute little cottagecore house, but it just didn’t look cute to you and instead came out kinda frumpy? So you scrapped it, even though it pained you.

“Hours wasted.”

Then you tried making another house, this one taller and with dark wood. But it ended up looking like some kind of Viking home, no matter how much you tweaked it, which totally clashed with the vibrant floral scenery around you. It would work better in a snowy biome. So you’d scrapped that one too, none too happy either.

“Why do I suck?”

Then you’d tried your hand at making a cute mushroom house! But…. it was awful. No matter what you did it just didn’t look right?? You tried making the stem ‘natural’ like it would look in minecraft but then it looked too artificial to you. Then you tried making it look more normal but then it just ended up looking wonky. Long story short.. you hated it. You scrapped it, maybe a little more angry than the previous two times. That was when you’d gone back to the white quartz blocks.

And you started with a huge square, then that sorta morphed into a circle. Or as ‘circular’ as this world’s building blocks could get. Then it just sorta.. went from there? Before you knew it you had a circular white temple/shrine with a domed and tiered ceiling and four tall stained glass windows with star and sky designs. You’d gotten into the construction as it had begun to be more fun. You’d even hung lanterns by chains from the ceiling in symmetrical points and it gave the whole place a nice vibe you think. Especially when it started raining outside.

Once it was all done to your satisfaction you just sat in the middle of the quartz floor and gazed up at the gently swaying lanterns. You’re glad you’d ended up with this place, it looks pretty and has a calm vibe you can resonate with.

It would be dawn soon so you decided since you were done you’d go to bed since you had nothing else to do at the moment. Or well that had been the plan until you placed down your bed and couldn’t help but notice how utterly ridiculous a single bed in the corner of this huge temple looked. It actually made you snort before deciding then and there you needed a bed that somewhat matched the temple aesthetic you guessed you were going for now.

-0-

You ended up making this huge canopy bed with curtains and a platform you had to walk up a step to get to the three beds you’d put on it to look right. Under normal circumstances you’d not like such an overly lavish bed but it certainly fit the almost regal aesthetic your new temple home had. Which was just fine you supposed, it’s not like you were opposed to it. Just not what you’d planned to do from the get go.

Only problem now was.. the place still looked weirdly empty of life. Like one of those barren ‘minimalism’ nightmare homes rich people get off to. So you went through the inventory and started looking for stuff to decorate with. On the wall to the left of the entrance you set up an area for a brewing stand and cauldron as well as an ender chest, mostly just because it looked cool with the purple particles. You also hung up some item frames on the wall by the quartz counters you set up and picked out a bunch of pretty colored potions to hang in them.

Then on the opposite wall you made a little library with an alcove in the middle for an enchantment table. With a lantern on top of the bookshelf next to the crafting table and clay pots of flowers on the uppermost bookshelves to give the area a nicer look. You even added some fluffy carpet in front of the area to enhance the comfiness. And when you went over to the front door and then turned to look at the whole space you smiled because it really did look good. Larger than you’d intended, sure, but also very comfy now too.

You think you’re done with the inside until you look up at the bare walls between the stained glass windows. They were a little… naked. So you tried hanging up some paintings but… they looked terrible. The ‘round’ angle of the windows kept the options for what paintings you could put up pretty narrow. So you forgot that idea and instead tried putting up item frames! But you put some up and disliked it almost immediately. It felt way too busy so you got rid of those too.

You were getting tired of decorating so you just grabbed a random banner (purple because why not?) and then you grabbed a handful of different colored dyes before pulling out a loom. You tried a bunch of different designs, threw out most of them because they either ended up with ugly clashing colors or looking way too busy. But you finally settled on one that was a purple banner with an orange gradient coming up from the bottom and finally a gold sun right in the middle. It looked very pretty, like a sunset!

Once you were happy you hung a couple inside then on a whim you even hung a couple outside your door on either side. It made the outside look prettier in your opinion so once you were done (for real this time) you went and just flopped into bed, not feeling more than a touch tired but with nothing else to do at the moment. So you snuggled into your big cozy bed and drifted off to sleep~

-0-

Days passed since you built your home and you kept up work around the village, planting bamboo and berry bushes in a wall around it in a circle as a form of defense against the Illagers. They were kinda jerks and seemed to only want to kill villagers. Which wasn’t cool. And yeah you could have dug a moat or pit around it instead you guessed but you didn’t want any of the villagers falling in and you felt like they would…

So a wall of bamboo and prickly berry bushes it was. And it works! And looks dope. So win/win.

And it was as you were on your way to put some lights at the bottoms of the ponds and rivers that you noticed it from the corner of your eye. One of your sunset banners! But it was hanging up outside of the weaponsmith’s place instead of on your temple home where you knew you left it. But then you noticed another one hanging up outside the stonemason’s workshop…

You look over at your home up on the hill and see your banners still in place. And you know none of them trudged all the way up there just to steal one from the inside so you decide to investigate more in the village. And the further you walk in the more banners with your pattern on them you see. Actually every building you pass has at least one hung up somewhere near the door. You blinked before chuckling a little and thinking to yourself,

‘Oh! They all must have seen the banner I made and liked it! So they made their own to hang up. That’s actually pretty cute. I’m glad they like it.’

You were blissfully ignorant to the fact that the villagers have started to see you as their saint of sorts. Their goddess of prosperity and kindness. Without whom they would still be lost and living in pathetic huts and with no drive to acquire a skill and better themselves. They honestly look back on those times as such a dark period of their lives. When they were ignorant of their own abilities without your blessing to guide them. They owed you their lives and they wanted to show their thanks to you.

So when they saw you put up your sunset banners on your temple they quickly went to the shepherd and asked him to make them some just like it! And the shepherd, with his skill being a master thanks to your wonderful trading help, was easily able to craft such banners. Every villager had at least one by the time the sun was going down, all of them proudly being hung on the outsides of their homes and work buildings to show their allegiance to you!

But it wouldn’t stop there. The villagers wanted to give back even a fraction of what you have given to them.

-0-

In the following weeks you definitely noticed the villagers acting… odd. It started small at first, with them each coming to you and giving you gifts. The shepherd gave you a pair of blankets that were beautifully crocheted with this fluffy wool yarn, one that’d been dyed a soft baby pink while the other was a soothing sea foam color. You thanked him with a smile three times over and he seemed endlessly happy you liked them. You took them home and laid them across your bed and liked the pop of color they provided your space.

Though after that the farmer and leatherworker both met you at the entrance to your temple and each gifted you some things they thought you’d like. The farmer happily handed over a full basket of freshly baked bread along with another basket containing a bushel of golden carrots and almost a full melon’s worth of glistering melon slices. While the leatherworker offered up a pair of dainty leather sandals that looked like they would lace up your legs to just below your knees. And also what looked like a prettily crafted leather utility belt! It had lotus details and golden studs and buckles on the front and back. And one large pocket, one medium zipper pocket, and two smaller pockets. You loved all of their gifts and thanked them both over and over while safely putting the food away (and maybe eating some bread right then) and putting the slippers and belt on.

You were beyond grateful and thought that was the end of that.

You… were wrong.

-0-

As the days turned into weeks you were lavished with more and more offerings. It took you a while to realize that’s what they were; offerings. You got a little uncomfortable with all the gifts after a bit but when you started to refuse them the villagers looked so sad so you began to accept them again. Especially after they tried to make ‘better’ stuff for you after your initial refusal, under the impression the last ones weren’t good enough for you or something. It started to get hard to take in all the gifts, because sometimes you weren’t available in the village (you still liked to explore) or because you were working on something and they couldn’t reach you. So as a solution you set up a double chest outside your temple for them to put the gifts in.

They eagerly adapted to that and each night you’d clean out the chest, putting away practical gifts and discreetly getting rid of ones you had WAY too many of. Like the food. You had a full double chest of food and you didn’t need anymore, but saying so would probably hurt their feelings. So this was the easiest way. Plus a lot of the gifts you actually DID like. Like the sandals, hip pocket belt, and the pretty white dress you were currently wearing. The under part of it was just a simple white sleeveless mini dress that went above your knees (you’re not sure it was that shirt when you first tried it on..) and the over part of the dress was a sheer white maxi dress with loose ruffled sleeved that hung off your shoulders, and a slit on each side that helped with ease of movement.

You’d taken to wearing the dress, the hip pocket belt, and sandals every day. They were all comfortable and looked pretty good on you now that you think about it. Not to mention the fabric was light and breathable too, which helped keep you from getting too hot. You’re not sure what kind of fabric it’s made of, but whatever it is it’s light enough to not make you sweat but it’s also heavy enough to keep you from getting cold when it’s windy. Regardless, it’s your go-to outfit these days.

But aside from the offerings and stuff, you had to sit down and really examine your current position. You really took the time to pay attention to how the villagers were treating you. And you eventually came to the conclusion that they were treating you like some kind of saint or deity. They gave you the best of their wares as offerings, they took on your banner as their own (presumably as a show of loyalty), and they almost seemed to worship the ground you walked on. This isn’t even mentioning the statues that they’d put up of you… Like, they were good! Very well done and made of polished white quartz but.. it was still strange. Though like everything else you can’t say you weren’t getting used to it all.

You sighed and rolled with it.

-0-

You realized one day you’d never been to the Nether. And you wondered if the rules here (like mobs not bothering you) was also true there? You couldn’t deny you were sorta excited to go see, but also scared. You HATED the freaking Hoglins when you played Minecraft before this place. They were always so aggressive and you can’t count how many times they’d killed you, the bastards. But your curiosity won out over your anxiety so you grabbed the enchanted diamond pickaxe you’d been given and then paused while grabbing a stack of gold bars.

“Wait I need to wear gold right? Or the Piglins will be all mad,” you said as you grabbed a gold helmet from your inventory.

You thoughtlessly went to put it on but jerked the helmet back when it clanged against something hard. Something hard that made you wince as a small shock of pain went through your skull. A curse left your lips as you asked out loud what the fuck THAT was about. You were in the middle of trying to come up with an explanation when you reached up with your free hand and flinched when it came into contact with something on your head. Something that 200% was NOT your hair or skull. Panic bubbled inside you and your stomach sank into your feet as you whipped the gold helmet up to look into its polished surface to see yourself.

Horns? Little blunt horns… On your head.

With a shaky hand you reached up, sort of hoping this was just a dream. But when your fingertips brushed against the soft velvety texture of the horns your breathing grew faster and you pulled your hand away like you’d been burned. You dropped the helmet, not even hearing it clatter against the floor as you stumbled back, nearly tripping over the step that led up to the platform your bed was on, but you somehow managed to get to the bed and sit down.

Before you knew it you’d burst into tears and buried your face into your hands, sobbing and unable to cope with this new fuckery.

You’ve had to deal with so much weird insane shit since ending up here, wherever the fuck HERE was. You were honestly so tired. You’ve done your best to stay calm, stay sane, and just keep going. And for the most part you have! You focused on surviving, building, and dealing with the villagers. You’d probably feel silly for breaking down over some dumb horns later, especially after you’d barely batted an eye over your weird ears, teeth, and EYES. But the breakdown was probably more to do with life deciding to give you another slice of bullshit despite your overflowing plate. At least that’s what the logical part of your mind was thinking.

But the illogical part, the emotional part, was just so done. So you cried and cried and cried your very soul out until no sound was leaving you anymore. And then, once you were cried out and exhausted you weakly crawled onto the pillows and just passed out.

You’d deal with this new shit later.

-0-

Far on the outskirts of the opposite side of the village from your temple a young boy with golden hair stumbled across the entrance to said village.

He’d never seen this village before and was curious. He’d have gladly stormed in and started going through villager chests for loot but it was getting close to dusk and his older brother said he needed to get back asap. Now usually he’d shrug off his brother’s bossy nature but he’d sounded worried so he decided to hurry and get back before it got too late.

But before he turned and left he marked down this village’s coordinates so he could get back to it later..

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tag list:

@salinesoot @lady-bee-fechin @kacchasu @putridjoy @lunawritesstories @galaxypankitty3030 @paradigmax @zachariethememerie @killmewithafanfic @trinity-1002107

#technoblade x reader #technoblade #dsmp #dream smp #mcyt x reader #tommyinnit #tommyinit mcyt #c!techno #c!tommy

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poptod · 3 years

Text

The Breeding Kings, pt. 19

Description:

Notes: WC: 4.5k

They had yet to tell you the master's name.

You weren't allowed to stand next to Ahkmen in line, either. They wanted you lined up by size, leaving you at the smaller end, and Ahk at the taller. After scanning the new recruits––of which there were only six new people––the estate's stewardess assigned you to gardening, and Ahk to patrol.

"Okay," you said with a nod despite no one else in line saying anything in response to their assignment. "I also do clean good."

The stewardess cocked a single brow.

"You can do that as well then. Share shifts with Zakiti," she said, pointing to a young girl digging into the loose dirt of the garden.

You bowed your head deeply before the six of you were set loose on the property, your slots established. Ahkmen followed you into the sun for a moment before someone caught him, bringing him back to the small hut he'd just been in, and where the tools were kept. He was handed a guard's outfit––long, white robes, unflattering, and reaching all the way to his ankles and wrists. An instant distaste grew on Ahk.

"I have to wear this?" Ahk asked the man, but fortunately he was speaking Egyptian, and the stranger could not understand him.

The job did, to your great comfort, afford you food that was given out in plentiful rations, and despite the dull taste, Ahk found himself enjoying beer and bread in the beating afternoon sun, though he wasn't allowed much due to time constraints. He'd been working throughout the whole day, circling the whole of the property in search of any trespassers. Lean muscles were now strained beneath the weight of his body and of the strange clothes, though certainly no more than his backpack was, and he often found himself rubbing his aching shoulders. He couldn't see his skin there properly, but he was half convinced he was genuinely bruised.

What was hardest about the job didn't end up being the heat, the strain on his muscles, or the overstimulation of long skirts and sleeves––it was the absence of you that he noticed above anything else. No one to listen to the strange comments during the day, a slot that had, for a while, been filled by Piye, and then more recently by you.

You always had something more fun to say. Sometimes way out of range from his own thought process, and sometimes reading his mind exactly.

And he wasn't there to hear what you had to say, either, in those random moments when deep thoughts blurted out in rough translations.

Later in the afternoon––bordering on evening––you were called back to the servant's quarters to be dismissed. The stewardess gave the six of you a rough look at your future schedules, revealing your hours to be lax and concentrated to only three or four days in the ten day week. You and Ahk side-eyed each other, ready to jump out of line at any moment with excitement as you bit back a grin.

The moment she said 'dismissed' you flocked to one another, automatically heading towards your quarters without word.

"I have been with thoughts, all day," you began, moving your hands animatedly. "We need to go to the beer house, like," you pointed over your shoulder, "you know?"

"The one from yesterday?" He asked in mild confusion.

"Yes!"

"Well I haven't got anything else to do," he said, looking to you with a lop-sided grin that you eagerly returned.

Even in the increasingly late hours of the day the market was aflame with life, filled with open carts and tables now half-empty after a long day of business. Ahkmen never had a job before––at least, not one that didn't have to do with politics or, very rarely, singing. Neither of those were any bit like the job he now had, standing on his feet for hours on end, watchful eyes patrolling a property that didn't and never would belong to him.

That ache continued in his chest, a feeling of tiredness that attempted to lag him down as he followed your excited steps. Unlike him, you were accustomed to physical labor, and retained much of your energy despite the hours of cleaning.

Orange and yellow tarps still hung above the darkened market, now blocking nothing more than the stars that shone a little dimmer than the two of you were used to. The small, red flags fluttered high above you in the gentle breeze coming off the Euphrates, twinned by the still fresh scents of baking bread and cooking beer. You needed only to follow the scent and the crowds that grew larger the further you got down the wide, stone street, coalescing into a large city center built by shops, bakeries, breweries, and glassmakers surrounding a pyre of white stone.

Winged creatures on four feet and bearing a man's head were carved into the large pillar, mounted by a disc resembling the light of the sun. Other such decorations trailed all the way down to the base, where lax soldiers lay among the ascending steps, their spears and swords at their side, and their mouths occupied by a stew whose scent tantalized the both of you.

"Did you eat today?" Ahkmen asked, unable to stop staring at the clay bowls steaming with the soup.

"I had a bread, in the - the kitchen," you said quietly.

"Hungry?"

"Yes, yes, we will eat?" You asked as you turned to him.

"I'd like to, considering I didn't really eat anything today," he said with a frown.

"What?? They did not let you eat?"

"More of I didn't have the chance," he said as he scratched the back of his neck, scanning the city square.

"I say we do get beer," you said, speaking slowly so as to fully think through your plan, "then we go to the house, and take their food. It is their job to feed you, yes? We work for them, they give food."

"Ah, Yogi," he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a side hug, "I knew there was a reason I followed you to the end of the earth."

"We are not at the end of the earth now, not yet," you said with a chuckle.

"I will follow you there," he said in a sudden, sincere softness.

You looked up at him and said, "I know," though you chuckled and gave him a funny look.

Thick, warm, and sweet––the beer of Babylon was more similar to porridge than it was to the almost juice-like qualities of Egypt, and by extension your, brewing. You both held one of the large mugs given to you, sitting on the raised half-wall between the public center and the roofless brewery establishment. Below you, women and men churned the alcoholic mixture, and across from you wandered older shoppers and off-guard soldiers.

Both of you raised your cups at the same time, taking a long, slurping gulp as you looked each other directly in the eye. Laughs bubbled in the beer, forcing you to lower the cup and wipe your chin on your sleeve as you giggled. He chuckled as he lowered his mug in a more graceful manner than you had.

"Hey, weren't you here yesterday?" A woman asked in Akkadian. It caught your attention, but to Ahk, it was just part of the conversations he couldn't understand, so he didn't notice until you responded to her.

"Yes I was here," you said grinning, offering a small wave to what Ahkmen now saw to be one of the brewers, her skin glowing in the firelights beneath the churners.

Her skirt was long, the frail edge of it dragging along the ground over neat, red fabric shoes. Despite the modest skirt, she had no sleeves, and the white linen veiled her muscled body, smooth dips and veins built from the nature of her work. Long, curly black hair was pinned in a bun, with neat strands hanging from the pins like vines from a tree. Even with her dark skin he could see a blush on her flushed cheeks.

"Ah," she huffed, wiping her brow, "I thought you looked a little odd."

"Odd?" You questioned with a laugh.

"Well your friend is dressed very... um, different," she said as she gestured to Ahk, who was back in his Egyptian skirt. "You from Egypt, sir?"

"Oh, he does not speak Akkadian," you said.

At this point, Ahk knew you were talking about him, since the lady gestured to him and you brushed him off. The two of you continued for a moment more, the stranger's gaze switching between you and him as incomprehensible words flooded from her mouth before she finally said something he understood.

"You, uh, you speak Sumerian?" She said, and Ahk perked up.

"Yes, I do," he said, glancing between you two. "Yogi doesn't, though. How do you know Sumerian? I thought it was a... a dead language."

"I could ask you for the same," she chuckled, "but my brother is a priest. I live with him, he shows me much of what he does."

"Ah, alright," he said with a nod. "I learned from school in Egypt, trained in the temples to be a priest."

How easily the lie came to him now. Why wouldn't it? No one was around to know any different.

She nodded with him, but before she could reply, you were interrupting and her focus was back on you. You said something followed by your name, and with her reply you muttered to Ahk her name––Tiamat.

Ahkmen managed to finish his beer while you two were still speaking in tongues. Not too great a task for a man of his stomach, but the entire time he was sipping away he could think of nothing more than the feeling of alienation. The languages of the three of you were all mixed up, meaning he couldn't talk to her without excluding you, and you couldn't talk to her without ignoring him, a predicament with ended in the latter's solution.

In the meantime, you were hitting it off rather well with Tiamat; you got to tell her that you'd experimented with your own types of beer, and she was interested––at least mildly so––in your foreign recipes. It wasn't long until she noticed Ahk's silent eyes staring at you, and suggested something you translated to Ahk.

"There is a... a house of books and scrolls near to here," you said. "If you are tired to being here."

A black hole swelled in the pit of his stomach, instilling a sick feeling where his beer once was. He glanced between you.

It would be the first time he was willingly parted from you in months.

"Sure," he said slowly, repeating the word in Sumerian to Tiamat.

She gave him the directions and he left in a fluster, confused and somewhat disappointed in himself. He was a little confused as to the actual directions to the library, but the large building stuck out sorely amongst the middle and lower class homes, tiled in dark blue and having much of a stature of a temple rather than a library. No one came and went from the door, but the scent of searing meat was suddenly overpowered by burning incense. The mark of an inhabited and frequently prayed in temple.

Arches led to extensive gardens, held alight by the glowing moon shining above. There were few clouds out tonight, allowing a better view of the sky––a view reflected in the patterns of the gardens. Riverwater flowed through the terrace as the Milky Way split the sky, the stars marked by flowering trees that bloomed in deep red and a pure, clean white. Beyond the garden stood the temple itself, once more the center of his attention, and once more rising beyond the walls that encircled it.

Stairs led up into the heavens and towards the first door, a strong, metal gate left unprotected.

He slowly entered, passing through the open doors and into a dark threshold. Ripples and veins of wood ran beneath his fingertips, trailing across the large doors, their bolts hanging open and unlocked. His mouth went dry as his eyes adjusted to the light.

Despite the grand stature and preparations for the temple, the first room there was very little––containing not much more than a strange candle sat in front of a small idol representing a bloodied man. Red paint, or perhaps actual blood, was smeared across his face, leading down in claw marks to the offerings at his feet. Ahk's jaw gritted tight as he attempted to swallow through a tight throat.

Two doors flanked the wall behind the statuette. Light flooded suddenly in the pitch black room, only to disappear, the subtle roar of torchlight moving with it. In that single moment, within which the light appeared, Ahkmen's mouth fell open as writings were revealed upon the walls, carved in every available surface, their depths sharpened by harsh light.

Like Egypt, the comings and goings of rituals for the Gods overpowered any prayers citizens might have, leaving only the small entrance room for people to pray at. From there Ahk could safely assume that he would not be allowed in the inner temples, especially since he was a foreigner. Whatever scrolls or tablets Tiamat knew about were inaccessible to him, leaving him alone and directionless in the Babylonian temple, separated from everything comfortably familiar.

He knelt, though he wasn't sure why, and looked the statue straight on. At the stone base was script, cuneiform pressed into clay and announcing the God's name.

"Utu Shamash," he mumbled, reading the words aloud. The Sun God of Babylonian myth.

It made sense, considering the offerings of gold beads and wine in golden chalices––Utu was known as a lover of gold, as it was the lifeblood of the sun. And even though Utu Shamash was the God of the sun, his equal was the presence of Ma'at––the Goddess of truth and justice––instead of Ra, a more widely known God of Egypt.

He took advantage of the rarity of such quiet moments, and delved back into the studies he left behind in Osiris' temple, namely the study of cuneiform writing. The temple must've been an older one––which would explain the somewhat smaller size––as the words in the walls were a script he could recognize, the familiar Sumerian of thousands of years ago. Whoever took power in Mesopotamia could never outrule the hidden language, and thus the words persisted even into modern day. Singing and glowing off the stone.

You suspend from the heavens the circle of the lands

And everything that Ea, King of the counsellors, had created is entrusted to you.

Whatever has breath you shepherd without exception,

You are their keeper in upper and lower regions.

Regularly and without cease you traverse the heavens,

Every day you pass over the broad earth. . . .

Shepherd of that beneath, keeper of that above,

You, Shamash, direct, you are the light of everything.

His gaze fell from the blurry words to the small statue. At some point he had fallen to his knees in front of the altar, his chin resting on the surface holding up the offerings of the people. Staring into its' eyes brought recollection to him, and he remembered the wooden totem he had worked on throughout the Shamiyah desert, how avidly he hid it in hopes of surprising you. He shoved it in his bag somewhere around Rapiqum for the last time, and since then it was hidden beneath his belongings.

There was little else he could think to do in the small praying room, so he left on quiet footsteps, retreating away from manmade majesty and back into the natural flora scattered along the path back to main streets. Chirping crickets digressed into quiet conversation, leather sandals walking across brick stone streets, and the ever-present sound of crackling fires.

He returned to the small circle in which he'd left you, as he only remembered the path back to the estate from that single spot. When he crossed the plaza, he spotted the open-roofed brewer, and made his way across to inform you on his future whereabouts.

Peering over the ledge, he found you still enraptured in your conversation with the brewer. She appeared to be showing you the mixing process required for the porridge-type beer. Ahk jogged down the stairs and over to you.

"Aganu!" You said brightly, a very sudden smile overtaking your earlier seriousness. "How is the books?"

"Couldn't, uh, get inside. It's alright. They had writings on the walls, um – I'm headed back to the estate," he set a hand on your shoulder, "so shall I meet you there?"

"Yes, yes, I will come back close to now," you said with a nod.

"Alright," he said, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your forehead before he bid a hasty good-bye, waving himself out of the brewery. Your giggle followed him.

Things got quieter and less crowded the closer he got to the estate––whose owner he still didn't know––and by the time he stood before the servant's entrance, most of the lights in houses had gone out. The small, hostel-like accommodations for the servants still had a burning rushlight within, dimly illuminating the filled and empty bunks.

He squinted slightly to see through the wooden gate, his brow furrowing. There were very few beds left unoccupied.

With a long sigh he unlatched the gate in the way the stewardess taught him, quietly closing it behind him when he padded through with careful steps. His gaze was drawn to the small patio outside the hut––where you and him were assigned to your respective jobs––and there he spotted the bags the two of you left behind. He knelt and dug into his pack, drawing out his knife and the wooden totem that had been chipped into a much smaller size.

A whiff of the air from inside the bunk revealed to him that they weren't burning a rushlight; they were burning incense, drifting out in gentle smoke that pooled beneath the patio roof. He looked up, chuckling as he ran his hand through the thick clouds.

He took a seat on the dusty earth, his raised knees supporting his elbows that allowed for the proper movement of carving. The knife in his hand had dulled over time, matching to fit the refining scrapes Ahk was now using, smoothing out the harsher edges of the image within. Every now and then he glanced upwards, and each time he found the stars still veiled past the light of the city. He sighed, looked to the gate in hopes of seeing you, and returned to his wood carving after two minutes of silence.

Snoring hummed quietly from inside the servant's quarters, followed by rustling sheets and a smack of skin against skin. Ahk's eyes widened as he heard someone curse in Akkadian. Another slap and then silence.

A little while later, clinking metal and swinging hinges had his head shooting up to see you. A grin split across his face and he stood, abandoning his wood and knife on the ground in favor of jogging over to you.

"Aganu," you said in a giggle, gladly returning his hug when he scooped you up into his arms.

He picked you up easily, spinning you around in slow circles across the garden as your laughter followed in twirls. He chuckled as he set you down, his hands remaining on your waist, and his heart thumping like thunder.

"How was brewing?" He asked.

"So good," you giggled. "I did miss it for more than I think."

"Understandable. You do know a lot about it, after all," he said with a shrug.

"A little. We should eat now," you said, walking past him and leading him to follow you without word or gesture.

The main house of the estate wasn't an especially large house, but it was tall. Three different floors rose out of the ground like pikes, the edges rimmed with decorated shards of cutting stone, and the stairs guarded by figures of Lamassu, though they were much smaller than some of the statues he'd seen in other parts of Babylon.

Of course, that wasn't the wisest entry point. On the back side of the house, opposite of the street-facing side, a doorway led in to the kitchens illuminated by the windows built into the thick, stone walls.

Large domed brick furnaces were built into the home, but the storage cases were all made of wood and completely moveable. None of that mattered, however, because all of the food itself was kept in a storeroom below the ground, a fact you found out after speaking with Zakiti, your coworker. Long accustomed to the art of sneaking, the two of you easily snuck down the stairs and into the underground storage. basement.

A chill set over your skin, and you wrapped your arms around yourself. Every tiny scrape of your shoes against the dirty floor had tiny specks of dirt grinding against each other, producing an unpleasant sound that nearly woke the landowners.

You picked a variety of things, too scared of taking multiples of one object and getting caught by the missing evidence. Once everything was chosen, you and Ahk hid the food in the folds of your clothes, and ran back across the estate to the servant's house.

He barely caught his breath before you were climbing up the stone walls of the bunk, using the wooden pegs to left yourself up to the roof. Ahkmen chuckled, but something else came to mind, and he rushed off to grab something else before he joined you in the midnight stillness. In the end, however, he required your help in lifting everything up, and that left nothing to surprise you with but the totem he could carry in his hand while he climbed.

He huffed as he landed beside you. While waiting for him you'd set out the blanket he fetched, the length of it laying flat on the mud roof baked in the sun. You already had your lute in hand, small fingers tapping thoughtlessly over the strings as he revealed what he'd hidden from you for a good while now; an object of his vigilant attention.

Your mouth fell open when you saw it, drawing a breath between your lips that caught in your throat.

It wasn't of anyone distinctive. Technically. The proportions gave away far more than he was comfortable with, but you'd already seen it now, and there was no taking that back. For weeks he'd been carving the image of two people embracing, one much taller than the other, who pulled the smaller's head into its' chest, an abstract hand petting the absent hair. The only features actually shown on the two were their eyes––closed, and quietly so, with no strain or note of fear.

He let you stare until he grew uncomfortable with your silence, which ended up happening rather quickly as he boiled in his own blushing.

"What do you think of it?" He asked in a voice that nearly cracked.

"I... it is beautiful," you murmured, your hands going lax around the instrument.

You reached forward as he handed it to you, and you held it with such a tender, careful touch that Ahk wished for a moment he was the statue instead. It was a very long moment that stretched into near painful yearning.

"This is what you made in the Shamiyah?" You said, tearing your eyes away from the figures to meet his gaze.

"Yes, well.. I... I had a lot of time," he partway mumbled, feeling suddenly self-conscious about his gift to you. There were edges and areas he could've added better detail.

"And I had a lot of time," you said with a chuckle. "But I did not make any thing. It is beautiful, Aganu."

Burning desire to hear his name. His true name. Not once had you uttered it in any way not befitting a stranger.

"Thank you," he choked out after forcing down the words you're beautiful.

How pathetically cliche, how his cheeks burned even brighter yet, his imagination just barely reigned in by his common sense. He couldn't just kiss you––you depended on him for safety to get to a new home after your last became intolerable, and breeching that trust wasn't something he was so readily prepared to do.

So instead he looked at you, ignoring how his gaze always fell to your lips, ignoring how he leant into you without ever having to feel your touch. Pathetic, he thought, and drew himself back, restraining his rampant thoughts. It all faded as you plucked at the strings, the hum of it filling up the space between you with warmth. Stars that crested your face fell to the earth in the form of fireflies that floated around you.

But you wouldn't sing. You looked to him, waiting for him to start, and giggling when he remained in his strange trance.

"You are the singing, yes?" You said quietly, careful not to disturb the sleeping servants below the rooftop.

"Oh," he said, his back straightening. "Um, alright."

He recalled many of the poems and songs he'd heard at festivals, as well as the more popular ones sung in the house of life. His eyes flickered up to the red dot on your forehead above your brow.

"My love is one and only, without peer, lovely above all Egypt's lovely girls," he began to sing, keeping as quiet as you kept your playing. "On the horizon of my seeing, see her rising, glistening Goddess of the sunrise star; bright in the forehead of a lucky year. So there she stands, epitome of shining, shedding light, her eyebrows gleaming darkly, marking eyes which dance and wander."

He let out a long sigh as he lay down, stretching his arms above his head before he released them, one falling on his stomach, and the other extended to you. You chuckled at his sleepy mannerisms, continuing to pluck thoughtlessly.

"Tired?" You asked.

"Yes," he mumbled, his eyes falling blissfully shut.

The wooden lute clattered against the mud roof before fabric shifted and you were lying next to him, balanced on your side to face him. He turned to you and opened his eyes. You were much closer than he thought.

Neither of you said a word; silence in the hazy stare between you. Ahk only noticed his brow was knotted when it began to ache, at which point he also realized he'd raised his hand, and the back of his fingers were tracing down your cheek. No going back now––you still stared at him head-on, blinking slowly as he drew in a shaky breath.

His fingers drew the rest of the way down to your jaw, melting him at the soft warmth of your skin.

You're going to drive me mad.

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #rami malek character #ahkmenrah x female reader #ahkmenrah x male reader

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butterysalt · 3 years

Text

A Silent Fate | John Watson x Mute!Reader (Pt 1)

Pairing: John Watson x mute!reader (gender neutral)

Summary: On one’s 18th birthday in this world, a message appears on their forearm, reading their soulmate’s first words to them... You were never one to worry too much about the laws of the universe until after what seems to be a devastating accident at the art studio, you find that fate had much more different and rewarding plans for that day.

Contains: big crash/impact

Word Count: 1,203

A/N: I had this fic idea for a while but am now getting around to polishing it a bit! This will be a multi-part oneshot so look out for more updates! :)

<><><><><>

Part 2 (WIP)

<><><><><>

You walked around the art studio, watching all the students sculpt and shape their mounds of clay into unique busts. It was a comfortable silence among the brightly lit workspace. Nothing but the shuffling sounds of crusted aprons and the soft plops of scraped clay.

Descending the modern steps of the upstairs studio, you entered the main room again on the ground floor. In your arms, you carefully held a tall plant. Downstairs, the owner of the art studio, Mr. Fell, acknowledged your entrance and his eyes lit up.

“Y/n! Ah, thank you dear for moving the plants around up there. I’ve been meaning to redecorate the place with a more floral touch,” he explains with a light-hearted chuckle. You smiled kindly at the older man’s delight. He appointed you to the collection of plants and bouquets outside of the building. It was mainly just leafy decor and old sculptures or easels to be donated.

Even with the gloomy London weather, there was just something that made your day more magical when you were surrounded by the arts and creative environment. It was the closest thing to a dream job for you.

You placed the old plant beside the outdated sculptures and moved around some decorations. While you were separating and sorting the materials, you sensed a commotion coming up behind you.

Leaving you with no time to react properly, there was a shout and a huge black blur tumbling right past you. The force of the giant mass sent you falling back onto the materials and into the wall. You let out a soundless scream as you curled up protectively, squeezing your eyes shut and bracing from the impact.

Thick smoke billowed up into the air, hiding the building from everything else. The sound of a blaring engine and tire screeches grew smaller and smaller as the blurry vehicle seemed to drive away.

“....Y/n! Y/N!” The owner of the art studio shouted for you. He coughed in the midst of the dust clouds, waving away and looking for you. The old man huffed a sound of relief when he found you in your defensive state. Certainly shaken up, but safe.

“Oh, good heavens!” He kicked away scraps of baked clay shards and stray leaves as he pulled you out of the rubble. You didn’t even realize you were still deathly clutching onto that plant with your dear life. Standing up on your feet again felt like a foreign action. Is this air safe to breathe? It’s making me dizzy...

What once was the gorgeous glass studio with the clean display of student creations and painted masterpieces was now a hot heap of shattered glass wreckage and broken materials that drilled holes into the buildings strong walls. It felt like a part of your heart had been nicked at.

The longer your eyes roamed around the broken infrastructure and busted clay pots you felt your stomach sink lower and lower. Blast that bloody devil hound’s vehicle from hell for bustling its way over to your studio. Grief was quickly dissolved into fury bubbling underneath your skin.

You quickly snapped your eyes shut and grimaced. It barely felt like you were even alive after such a close hit. Take a deep breath… it’s more important to process everything first and figure out the next rational thing to do. Then worry about grievances.

A pair of padding footsteps grew louder but you couldn’t see much through the smoke that still lingered. The dirty cloud eventually split apart to reveal two men racing through the scene of the accident, seemingly chasing after something.

One of the men, a dark mop of curls atop his head and a flitting black coat trailing behind him as he zipped past the entrance of the art studio in a rush. The second, a dirty blonde and shorter of the two, took the time to glance within the building, locking with your eyes. His run came to an abrupt stop as he panted heavily, catching his breath.

He hobbled over to you, flipping out a pocket-sized notebook from his jacket. He paused in front of you, bowing over to take a deep breath.

“So sorry about all this! How much for the damages?” The man huffed out in sections with an apologetically British voice. You felt your entire body stiffen.

Maybe it was because of the soreness and stinging from being blasted in the accident or because you felt a specific force of intimidation from his peculiar charisma. But your best bet was probably the way that those familiar words sent a sharp pain through your chest.

No, it wasn’t exactly the painful sharpness that made you want to scream in pain. This sharpness was the kind that caused the cogs in your brain to halt and go blank. It was the kind that made the skin on your forearm tingle and burn in an unfamiliar way that felt borderline intrusive. This sharpness tickled your heart daringly, making it dance and leap within you.

Your jaw dropped at this quick realization and you tried to utter something to this man, but of course, to no avail. The adrenaline that was now rushing through your veins made you forget that you were holding the plant as you attempted to sign in BSL.

The blonde man swiftly lunged forward to catch the plant as well as Mr. Fell who helped stop the plant from shattering onto the ground. “Y/n! Careful, now!” A part of your brain stopped, shocked that you did something so ridiculous. Thank goodness the new guy had sharp reflexes.

You cursed yourself mentally and pressed the pot closer to yourself, desperately locking eyes with these very special blue ones in front of you in hopes of communicating something to him that way. The man opened his mouth to say something back to you except he was quickly interrupted by his previous running partner with the dark curly hair.

“Come on, John!! God’s sake- we have a runaway car to catch!” The tall man yelled briefly before disappearing into the smoke again. “John” hissed impatiently, muttering angrily under his breath as he scribbled something messily on his notebook then ripped the page out.

“Ah- this is our contact information. You can send us the fines and we’ll cover everything, alright? Uhh m-make sure to go to a hospital too in case there are any serious injuries! Sorry- I really must go,” the shorter man promptly explained then ran off after his friend again.

He had stuffed the paper between your fingers, sending an electrical jolt through your body. You shivered and wondered if he had felt the same sensation when your hands brushed against one another.

John. So that was his name if you had heard it correctly. You needed to find him again. God knows how many men named “John” there were in this city. Mr. Fell took the plant from you and suggested that you sit down somewhere safe. Your eyes followed the shrinking figures of John and his partner. Somehow, you needed to figure out how to find the man that fate intended for you to meet again. You had finally found your soulmate.

#bbc sherlock #bbc sherlock fic #john watson #john watson x you #john watson x reader #john watson x y/n #john watson fanfic #john watson fic #john watson imagine #sherlock fanfic #sherlock fic #sherlock imagine #reader insert #fanfiction

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darkhymns-fic · 3 years

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A Pair of Would-Be Pastry Chefs

Nothing is better than chocolate brownies - just the trick in making it was a bit of a challenge. But for Lloyd and Colette, little miracles can happen.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairing: Lloyd Irving/Colette Brunel, Noishe, Dirk Rating: G Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: This was a request fic done for Umbry on twitter! Also wanted to write a quick colloyd for today. Happy Valentine’s Day!

It was Genis who was usually the one making the desserts - so this was entirely new territory for the both of them.

"So is… this the right amount of flour?" Lloyd held out a wooden drinking mug full of the ingredient, practically near to overflowing. Much of it was already on his hands and cheeks, as if he had been recently standing under fresh snowfall. "It said to use a cup but we have a lot of different sized cups here…" Should he have used the smaller ones they had for tea?

Colette turned her head towards Lloyd, her hair tied up in a neat ponytail, though several strands were already loosening from its hold. "Ah, I think that should be okay, if we - uh oh!"

Unfortunately, she had been holding onto the bag of cocoa powder while they were talking.

Noishe was peering at the pair from outside, his head just poking past the front doorway, large ears flicking with each stumble they did throughout their attempt at baking. He whined, keen enough to grab Lloyd's attention as he helped Colette off the floor.

"Can't come in here, Noishe!" he warned. After all, chocolate was bad for dogs! Although Noishe only kept looking at them with worried eyes. But it wasn't like they were going to burn the kitchen down…

All they had really done was heat up the brick oven, and crack a total of one egg into a bowl to whisk with the other ingredients… But two of them, both cocoa powder and flour (Lloyd had to drop his maybe-a-cup to catch a falling Colette) were now spread out all over the floor.

“Ah, I messed up again…” Colette looked down at her white apron where another third of the spilled cocoa powder had decided to decorate it in erratic patterns.

“It’s okay! We still have half a bag left. That’s more than enough.” Lloyd blinked at his dropped cup, quickly retrieving it. “I probably should have used the clay ones anyway. They’re not as big.”

Colette sighed as she clutched at the half-empty bag, looking over at the table full of prep work. A quarter-full carton of eggs that Dirk had gotten from the store at Iselia the previous day, several bags full of sugar, brown sugar, as well as chocolate chips, and also a stick of butter that looked dangerously close to melting…

They had barely started on step one of making the red velvet brownies.

Lloyd guessed the source of Colette’s small pout, and quickly picked up the whisk that was meant for the later stirring, eyes going to the bowl that only had yellow yolk in it. “Don’t worry! We just gotta whip all of these together, right? Then we put it in the oven… Wait, when do we put on the frosting?”

“I’m not sure…” Colette admitted. “I was trying to follow Genis’ directions, but there was so much. Also I think I dropped the directions somewhere when I tripped earlier too.”

“Oh.” Lloyd shrugged, taking the bag of cocoa powder from Colette’s hands. “We can just wing it

then! I kinda remember what Genis did for this...I think.” He was maybe about seventy percent confident on that front.

Both of them were wearing matching aprons that were a few sizes too wide (courtesy of Dirk, who was also lending his kitchen while he went out woodcutting), with the sleeves of their jackets pulled up to their elbows for better movement. There were a few mishaps with some dropped eggs, Colette nearly burning her fingers on a hot cooking tray which Lloyd helped treat quickly, and wondering where exactly the milk was after about twenty minutes of searching through an overstuffed icebox.

Then again, nobody said baking was going to be easy.

“Do you think… we should just buy the chocolate?” Colette suggested, a shy smile on her face. “I’ll just keep messing up…”

“Colette, it’s okay! I told you I wanted to make it with you. We just gotta take it one step at a time.” Lloyd grinned wide, going to the table and practically upturning the rest of the bag of cocoa straight into the bowl. The result was a cloud of chocolatey goodness rolling into the air around them. “Ack!”

Colette coughed as well, and by then Noishe had turned tail and left, as if the chocolate explosion had been another monster. But once the air cleared, Colette looked to Lloyd and started to snicker.

“W-What is it?” Lloyd said, followed by another cough leaving him as some particles of chocolate snuck into his throat.

“Your hair! It looks like chocolate frosting now!” Colette couldn’t stop giggling, looking at Lloyd’s spiky hair like it was the top of a scrumptious ice cream cone. The cocoa powder had given his hair a delicious texture. Even as Lloyd tried to brush it away, it only made his hair look more disheveled and adorable.

“Sounds like you really want some chocolate if that’s the case,” Lloyd reasoned, hands on his hips. “Come on, let’s make the rest! I bet these will be even better than what Genis can come up with.”

“Hehe, you’re right!”

Of course, both didn’t totally believe that statement, but it was fun to dream. And it cheered up Colette instantaneously, letting her hands handle the butter, the chocolate chips, and even more of the eggs to be added to the bowl. But then they also had to boil up some hot water, grease up the cooking tray, and oh, where had they put the vanilla extract?

It was during all of this that Colette suddenly stopped in mid-motion to blink - and it was because Lloyd had plopped a dollop of their new thick chocolate mixture onto her nose with his whisk, making her blink. “Ah!”

“That’s payback for my hair!” Lloyd stated proudly.

“But Lloyd, you were the one who poured the powder like that to get it in your hair!”

“...Oh, right. Well, this is payback for laughing!” But he was chuckling just as much, and then quickly caught onto the bowl before it tumbled all their hard work on the floor.

Colette had caught it as well, their hands meeting, chocolate still on her face. “Let’s keep going!” Because she felt renewed excitement to try again, that and the oven behind her was getting hot. Dirk had warned them to not leave it on for too long…

In all fairness, Dirk had half-expected to see a bit of smoke coming from within his home when he arrived. Lloyd and Colette were not exactly the most talented of pastry chefs, after all.

But after putting down the handles of his hand-drawn cart to the soil, the cut lumber within its confines, all that he was greeted with was the sight of a boy and girl, no worse for wear than typical chefs trapped all day within a hot kitchen, seated on the doorstep just outside. They were feeding each other what looked like blackened brownies, some of the chocolate chips on its very top falling to the ground. They looked as happy as children discovering their new favorite treats.

“And here I was being worried when Noishe ran up to me earlier,” he said. The named dog poked his head from out of the cart, his green fur an oddity among the different shades of brown.

“Told you we’d make our chocolates okay!” Lloyd stated, still half-chewing it as he talked. “And it’s really good, too!”

“Maybe a little burnt though, hehe.” Colette’s hair was now half-untied, her hair also stained with flour and chocolate, but she opened her mouth as Lloyd plopped in another bite of brownie, playfulness in each of their motions. “But, I think it makes it taste better that way,” she said afterwards.

Dirk’s grin could be seen through his beard. “So, I take it that you two are enjoying your Valentine’s then?”

If it had been a few years earlier, before going on their journey together, there may have been a few embarrassed flushes and denials. But Lloyd was grinning wide, reaching to hold on tight to Colette’s hand, neither giving mind to the other’s chocolate-stained fingers. “Yeah, I think it’s been what we needed after everything.” The boy’s face was perfectly alight, the kind of radiance one only got when near something, or someone, precious. It was not a new expression either - it had always been there ever since him and Colette had first met. “Thanks for letting us make it here.”

“And we made some for you too, if you wanted!” Colette said, her smile matching Lloyd’s. It was an ecstatic smile, the kind he would see on her face as a young child, when his son would grab her hand in a game of hide-and-seek.

“You should remember that this is you two’s special day, not mine. But I won’t mind having a small bite later on.”

And as Dirk moved to retrieve the wood from the cart for the fireplace, he tried not to make it too obvious that he could still notice the two of them getting close, to see Lloyd lean in for a quick kiss, and see the flush rise in Colette’s cheeks to match with the red velvet layer of the brownie. Their laughter washed over him like a sun shower. It had really been too long since they had visited last, and was content that they could spend their holiday break here.

He also tried not to show too much outward worry for the smoke he could see building up in the room behind them, the doorway thankfully still open. Only a moment before Colette sensed it, turning around, and for Lloyd to jump up and hurry to get the water from the nearby well.

It didn’t really matter who left the oven on. Dirk had already prepared his home for such accidents long ago. Maybe next time I need to supervise, he thought. But once he had a taste of those chocolate chip brownies himself, long after they had grown cold, he thought he had never had something so sweet before.

It was no surprise. Lloyd and Colette could always make the greatest miracles happen when they were together.

#tales of symphonia #lloyd irving #colette brunel #colloyd #fanfiction #had the wrong link oops

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teachingmycattoread · 3 years

Text

Things We’ve Yelled About This Episode #16

The Hobbit, J. R. R. Tolkien

The Lord of the Rings (films)

The Lord of the Rings, J. R. R. Tolkien

The Silmarillion, J. R. R. Tolkien

This meme:

Harry Potter (aka The Boy Wizard), J. K. Rowling (as always, this podcast thinks Joke Rowling is full of shit, donate to your local trans charity today)

““There is more in you of good than you know, child of the kindly West. Some courage and some wisdom, blended in measure. If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world. But sad or merry, I must leave it now. Farewell!”” Thorin Oakenshield, Chapter 18: The Return Journey

““If we don’t get blown off, or drowned, or struck by lightning, we shall be picked up by some giant and kicked sky-high for a football.”” Thorin Oakenshield, Chapter 4: Over Hill and Under Hill

This meme:

and these posts thereupon.

The Princess Bride, William Golding

“The mother of our particular hobbit – what is a hobbit? I suppose hobbits need some description nowadays, since they have become rare and shy of the Big People, as they call us.” Chapter 1: An Unexpected Party

The Three Plagues of Lludd’s town aka Cyfranc Lludd a Llefelys (wiki)

The Historia Regum Britanniae, Geoffrey of Monmouth (wiki)

Brut y Brenhinedd (wiki)

The Icelandic translation of Dracula (post)

Beowulf (wiki) - M recommends the Seamus Heaney or Tolkien translations, but they’re enjoying the Maria Dahvana Headley version immensely.

The Hobbit and LoTR as D&D campaigns, Matt Colville (youtube)

The Secret Commonwealth of Elves, Fauns and Fairies, Robert Kirk and Andrew Lang (wiki)

Elves in Discworld, Terry Pratchett (wiki)

Wheel of Time, Robert Jordan

Babel fish, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams (wiki)

The Poetic Edda (wiki)

For Dwarfish names as Old Norse past participles see this post

Game of Thrones (TV, books by George R. R. Martin)

“Then they went back, and found Thorin with his feet on the fender smoking a pipe. He was blowing the most enormous smoke-rings, and wherever he told one to go, it went – up the chimney, or behind the clock on the mantelpiece, or under the table, or round and round the ceiling; but wherever it went it was not quick enough to escape Gandalf. Pop! He sent a smaller smoke-ring from his short clay pipe straight through each one of Thorin’s. Then Gandalf’s smoke-ring would go green and come back to hover over the wizard’s head.” Chapter 1: An Unexpected Party

M, despite literally never throwing anything out on purpose, can’t find the handout for the lecture they mention on classic fantasy as war literature - if that rings any bells for anyone, let us know so we can credit properly!

J. R. R. Tolkien

C. S. Lewis

The Once and Future King, T. H. White

“Even Bilbo was given a seat at the high table, and no explanation of where he came in – no songs had alluded to him even in the obscurest way – was asked for in the general bustle.” Chapter 10: A Warm Welcome

Shakespeare and listening to women (post)

“It was at this point that Bilbo stopped. Going on from there was the bravest thing he ever did. The tremendous things that happened afterwards were as nothing compared to it. He fought the real battle in the tunnel alone, before he ever saw the vast danger that lay in wait.” Chapter 12: Inside Information

Anansi Boys, Neil Gaiman

Smaug is to the dwarves as the Sackville-Bagginses are to Bilbo (post)

Geralt of Rivia, The Witcher (Netflix)

“ “Well, are you alive or are you dead?” asked Bilbo quite crossly. Perhaps he had forgotten that he had had at least one good meal more than the dwarves, and also the use of his arms and legs, not to speak of a greater allowance of air. “Are you still in prison, or are you free? If you want food, and if you want to go on with this silly adventure – it’s yours after all and not mine – you had better slap your arms and rub your legs and try and help me get the others out while there is a chance!”” Chapter 10: A Warm Welcome

“ “Tomorrow begins the last week of autumn,” said Thorin one day.

“And winter comes after autumn,” said Bifur.

“And next year after that,” said Dwalin, “and our beards will grow until they hang down the cliff to the valley before anything happens here.”” Chapter 11: On The Doorstep

Teen Wolf

“braver than any US marine” meme

This meme:

and commentary

What Else Are We Reading?

Check Please, Ngozi Ukazu (comic)

How To Write An Autobiographical Novel, Alexander Chee

Eat Up!, Ruby Tandoh

The Great British Bake-Off

Next Time On Teaching My Cat To Read

Even More Hobbit (This Time With Moving Pictures)

#tmctr #teaching my cat to read

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calligraphist-artemisia · 4 years

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Just Another Cinderella Story (Chapter 1)

Once upon a time, there was a boy who was left in the care of his uncaring stepmother. Raised in a life of servitude and seeing his stepbrother lavished with praise and given everything he desired, the boy knew there was only one way he would ever be free. If their dreams of marrying into a life of luxury came true, then he would be left with his childhood home and he would finally be able to turn his life around.

Of course, Fate often has other plans in mind.

Also posted on AO3 under the username Kishirokitsune

- - - - -

1. Saponaria officinalis

It began as all old tales did, with a child who was pure of heart and thrust into a situation beyond their control. In this case, the child was a boy whose kind father was taken from him far too early, leaving him in the clutches of his wicked stepmother.

He grew up in servitude and hoped that one day things would get better. Perhaps one day, when his stepmother's wish to marry her perfect son to a rich princess came true, they would leave his father's house and him behind. Until then, he would keep his head down and work as hard as he could.

It didn't always work. There was always something his stepmother found not to her liking and his stepbrother was even worse with his constant criticism.

His life wasn't all bad, however. Every now and then, under the guise of gathering wild berries in the woods, he could get away and visit a friend.

Keith met Takashi Shirogane purely by accident.

It happened on a hot summer day on one of the rare occasions he opened his big mouth and talked back to his stepbrother, earning himself a series of painful lashings that split the skin across his back badly enough to bleed. He was then sent out into the woods to gather wood for the stove. When he inevitably collapsed, Shiro was the one who found him.

The man was called a witch by the townsfolk and he lived in a cabin with his partner, Curtis. The two of them took Keith in, cleaned and bandaged his wounds, and fed him before allowing him to leave.

Keith couldn't go to them often, but whenever he felt his patience wearing thin he found an excuse to get away.

As always, Shiro and Curtis welcomed him to their cozy cabin with open arms. Shiro took his basket from him and gestured for Keith to take a seat, while he filled the basket with a variety of herbs and berries, giving credence to Keith's excuse.

“Thank you,” Keith said as he sat down, sinking into the soft furniture with a relieved sigh.

“How is your back?” Curtis asked from where he stood in the kitchen. There was a dusting of flour covering his hands and the front of his apron, and luckily there was none was sprinkled through his brown hair. (Keith had yet to see Curtis not looking like a mess while he was baking.)

“It feels tight sometimes, but it doesn't hurt anymore,” Keith said.

Shiro stopped filling the basket and went to a nearby cupboard, where he selected a green clay container. He uncorked it and looked inside, nodding in satisfaction at what he saw.

Knowing what was coming next, Keith stripped out of his shirt and folded it up in his lap, turning so Shiro had better access to his back. He pulled his hair forward so it was no longer in the way either.

Shiro sat down on the couch next to him and dipped his fingers into the jar, scooping out a generous amount of salve. He gently smoothed it over the scars and smiled at Keith's initial flinch, knowing it was due to the unusual coolness and mild tingle it produced on contact. “This should help with the tightness. You know if you allowed me to apply this more regularly, you wouldn't be able to tell that there are any scars.”

“You know I can't do that,” Keith murmured, relaxing under Shiro's light touch.

“They don't deserve you.”

Keith had nothing to say to that. It was a conversation they had every time he saw Shiro and it always ended with Keith returning to his personal hell.

He knew he could leave and his so-called family would presume him dead and continue on with their lives, glad to be rid of him. They weren't the reason he stayed. He stayed for the manor; it was his father's home and the place which held all of his fond memories of what little time they shared together. The thought of leaving made him feel as though he was abandoning all of that.

“How long are you staying today, Keith?” Curtis asked.

“Long enough that I no longer want to strange Lotor with his stupid hair,” Keith grumbled in response, earning a chuckle from the other two men.

“Ah, so you're moving in,” Curtis joked with a grin.

Keith tried not to smile, knowing it would only encourage them. “I might stay the night and leave before sunrise, if that's alright.”

“You won't get in trouble for being gone for so long?” Shiro replaced the cork on top of the jar and stood to put it away.

“They're entertaining for the evening and gave me specific instructions to stay out of sight. As long as I'm back to serve them breakfast, they won't care.”

Shiro stood up and headed back to the cupboard to put away the jar. “In that case, I'm going to prepare a proper bath for you. I know I just applied the salve, but there's one that will work even better after you've soaked for a while. No arguments.”

Keith made a frustrated sound, but Shiro was already heading for the back door. He watched as Shiro paused for a moment to whisper to Curtis before he walked through the door and disappeared into the sprawling garden.

He knew there was no point in arguing. Shiro would give him a sad look and Keith's resolve would crumble, unable to stand the idea of disappointing someone who genuinely cared about him.

Keith turned his attention to Curtis instead. “Who are you baking for today?”

“Well, I suppose it's for you since you'll be joining us for dinner,” Curtis said, giving him a fond smile. “Shiro suggested I make it. He does that sometimes, when he believes we'll have a visitor who could use a good meal. I hope you like blackberry cobbler.”

“That sounds incredible,” Keith said, unable to say for sure if he would like it. As long as Curtis was the one doing the cooking, he was sure it would all be delicious.

Keith struggled to properly relax while he waited for Shiro to return. He was so used to working all day that it felt unnatural to sit and do nothing. Maybe Curtis would let him clean the pots and pans?

He doubted it.

Shiro came and went, flitting about like a man on a mission. He didn't stop to talk to either of them. All of his focus was on the task he had set for himself. Just when Keith was about to beg Curtis to give him something to do, Shiro returned and herded him to a smaller room where a deep tub of steaming water was waiting for him. It smelled faintly of herbs, but Keith couldn't tell which ones.

Next to the tub was a bench that held several jars of soaps, a towel, and a fresh set of clothing.

“Shiro-”

“You deserve this,” Shiro firmly cut in, not allowing Keith to finish his sentence. “Wash up and relax. I'll knock when I think you've been in here long enough and then you can get out. I'd like to apply the new salve before you put a shirt on. After that, you're welcome to help me with a few things before dinner.”

“Don't do anything to my normal clothes,” Keith said.

Shiro sighed heavily as though he really wanted to disagree, but instead he promised he wouldn't do anything to them.

Keith waited for him to leave before removing his threadbare clothing, carefully folding each item, and setting them aside in an attempt to keep them reasonably neat. He then eased himself into the hot water, letting it soothe his aching body. The soft scents of whatever herbs Shiro put into the water lulled him into a relaxed state, clearing his mind and giving him a moment of peace that he hadn't realized he needed.

He felt incredible by the time Shiro knocked on the door and it was with some reluctance that he climbed out of the tub and began to dry himself off, leaving his hair for last. He then swiftly dressed in the undergarments and pants, marveling over how soft it was and feeling a little undeserving of such finery.

Keith carried the shirt and accompanying vest with him out to the main room, where Shiro swooped in to rub a new salve over his back, though he first ran his fingers through Keith's damp curls, tugging free any tangles he found.

“Don't bother. I'm going to chop it off soon,” Keith said, reaching back to pull his hair from Shiro's hands.

“You shouldn't,” Shiro said in a tone that implied he knew something but wasn't ready to reveal what he knew. He uncorked a new jar and spread its contents over the scars on Keith's back, one at a time.

Unlike the first salve, it felt surprisingly warm and remained that way once Shiro was done.

“You shouldn't have any more problems with your back,” Shiro said.

“Really?” Keith twisted around to look at him in surprise. “What's the difference between this one and the one you used earlier?”

“The other one relieves pain and softens the scar tissue so it doesn't pull as tightly. It's a quick fix for anyone who needs to stay active and is normally best suited for minor aches and pains. This one heals more deeply than that, but you can't strain yourself for at least six hours so it has time to work,” Shiro explained. “I've found that it also helps to take a warm bath beforehand.”

Keith didn't fully understand how any of it worked and he doubted he ever would, so he nodded along with what Shiro said and accepted it as the truth.

“So I have to sit still even longer? I thought you wanted my help with something,” he said, crinkling his nose.

“I do want your help,” Shiro said brightly. He stood up, taking the jar with him so he could put it back. “It's nothing strenuous and a little activity won't hurt anything.”

“I'll do it,” Keith agreed without waiting to hear what he would be doing. It didn't matter, so long as he didn't have to sit still.

Shiro returned to give his back one last look over and then directed Keith to put on the shirt and jacket. Keith almost left the vest off. He took a moment to trace his fingers over the white embroidery spiraling over one of the pockets and to marvel over how soft and warm the red fabric was. It was far nicer than anything he'd ever been allowed to wear and it was only the fact that it was clearly well-worn that had him shrugging it on.

Shiro nodded in approval. “Sit and turn your back to me. I'm doing something with your hair.”

“Any reason why you're determined to dress me up today?” Keith did as his friend asked without waiting for the answer. He soon felt gentle fingers return to his curls, once again working on getting rid of the tangles.

“Do I need a reason?” Shiro asked, and though his tone was lighthearted, Keith was sure he could detect an edge of frustration.

“Well, no... I guess not.”

Shiro continued to work on his hair until he could get his fingers through without catching on a single knot and then began to gather sections as he debated how he wanted to arrange Keith's hairstyle. He muttered to himself and Keith wasn't entirely sure it was fully in English because there was so much of it he couldn't understand.

Eventually, Shiro settled on a simple, single braid.

“Now you're ready to help me,” he said as he stood up. He held out a hand for Keith to take and helped him stand.

Keith expected an evening in the garden, gathering herbs and flowers of all varieties so that Shiro could dry them or do whatever he needed, but instead he was led to a room he'd never been allowed inside. He realized why immediately.

Shelves lined the walls, filled with a variety of pots and baskets. One was specifically for hanging dried plants. Another held books of all sizes. In the very center was the room was a cauldron on a pedestal, with a fire pit beneath it that lit itself the moment the door was shut.

If Keith ever needed confirmation that maybe the stories of Shiro being a witch were true, that was it. He wasn't worried though. Shiro had never given him a reason to distrust him.

“Should I really be in here?” Keith asked.

“I don't see why not. I normally get Curtis to help me with things like this,” Shiro told him. “Healing salves require quiet and I have to do those myself, but I also make soaps. That's what you'll be helping me with today. Could you get that basket of soapwort?”

Keith took a moment to look around, crossing off a number of plants before he came across one with a few white flowers still attached. “This one?”

“That's it,” Shiro said with a nod. “Take it over to the table and start chopping one of the bundles. Try and get the pieces as evenly as you can, but don't stress if they aren't. Once you have a full bundle cut, you can put it in the cauldron and add one jar of dried soapwort so it can all boil together.” He walked over to one of the shelves and plucked up a fist-sized jar, which he took over to the table where Keith would be working.

“Do you do this a lot?” Keith asked as he got to work.

“At least once a week I make a lemon soap for Curtis to take into town and sell with his pies,” Shiro said. “The one we're making is for a friend. Nettle and rose this time, I think.”

Keith focused on what he was doing as Shiro got lost in his own musings, as he was prone to do when he was working on something he found important. He found chopping the soapwort a relaxing activity and quickly finished the single bundle he was asked to do. He swept it all up into another jar – when did that get there? - and then carried the fresh and dry soapwort to the cauldron and dumped it all in. The ladle stirred it all together on its own.

The blatant display of magic had Keith gasping in surprise.

Shiro looked over at the sound. “Ah, sorry about that. It's charmed to automatically stir. I've had one too many recipes burn while I was trying to get everything in order. The wind chimes are the same.” He pointed to the ceiling, where a few copper tubes were hanging in close proximity.

“It's fine. I just wasn't expecting it,” Keith said, backing away from the cauldron with slight weariness. He breathed in, reminding himself that he trusted Shiro and that the magic was useful and not dangerous, and then walked over to see if his friend needed any other help. “So, uh, what now?”

“Now we add the rose and nettle so it can boil along with the soapwort,” Shiro said, handing Keith one jar. “Both are good for the skin, but I use rose petals specifically for the scent.”

Keith and Shiro spent most of the evening in the little room, working first on a liquid soap for Shiro's mystery friend, and then on a smaller jar of lemon soap that he insisted Keith take home for general household cleaning. By the time they emerged, laughing and joking around, Curtis was nearly finished with dinner.

“You're taking this better than I thought. Even Curtis avoided me for two days when I first showed him my magic,” Shiro complimented.

“Hey, in my defense, you didn't exactly ease me into it,” Curtis spoke up, an amused smile on his face. “And I spent those two days calling myself an idiot for running from you.”

“I suppose I could have broken in the news a bit more gently...”

Keith couldn't help but smile as he listened to them banter back and forth. It was yet another thing that generally went unsaid in regards to Shiro's life; the exact nature of his partnership with Curtis was central to much of the town gossip, always spoken about in whisper and yet somehow without judgment. It was treated as any other talk about who liked who.

All Keith cared about was how happy they were together.

Shiro stepped into the kitchen, mischief in his expression, but before he could do whatever he was planning on, a horse whinnied outside and he turned around to go out and greet their new visitor instead.

“Keith, come with me,” he instructed.

Keith glanced over at Curtis, who only shrugged and went back to cooking. With no help forthcoming he followed after Shiro. Outside they found a cloaked rider astride a dappled gray horse and as Shiro approached the rider pushed back their hood to reveal a young woman with light brown hair.

“It's good to see you, Pidge,” Shiro greeted as he grasped one end of the reigns. He held the horse steady as the woman swung her legs over and hopped down.

“Hi, Shiro. And Shiro's new friend.” She flashed a quick smile at Keith before turning her attention back to Shiro. “I hope I'm not interrupting. I know it isn't exactly one of my scheduled visits, but I had to get away for a while.”

“You're always welcome here,” Shiro said. “Keith, would you mind helping her inside while I take Jasmine to the barn?”

Keith nodded and held out his hand for her to take, which she did with a smile that seemed amused. Keith was sure that meant he was doing something wrong or not quite appropriate, but she didn't call him out on it and let him walk her into the cabin, where she also greeted Curtis and complimented him on how good the food smelled.

“Another guest for dinner,” Curtis said, sounding delighted. “Why don't you both wash up. We'll be ready to eat once Shiro comes back inside.”

There were two pumps that Keith knew of. One was in the kitchen and the other in the washroom, which was where he and Pidge headed to clean up as Curtis asked. He let Pidge go first.

“So, how long have you known Shiro and Curtis?” she asked, curiosity coloring her tone.

Keith shrugged. “A few years, I guess. Shiro's helped me out of a few bad scrapes.”

“Me too.”

Keith glanced at her, wondering what trouble she could have possibly gotten in that would mean Shiro had to step in and help. Though she tried to hide it beneath a plain cloak, he could tell she was of noble blood and likely under heavy protection. He wouldn't be surprised if she had guards stationed out in the forest to watch for any danger.

“He saved my brother three years ago. Ever since then I try and visit with gifts to thank him for everything that he's done. Of course, it's hard to get him to accept anything so it's always something he'll find useful and not all that difficult to find...” Pidge sighed as she stepped aside to dry off her hands, letting Keith access the pump.

“He is stubborn like that,” Keith agreed. He quickly scrubbed his hands clean and then accepted the towel from Pidge so he could dry off before they went to eat.

Dinner was full of lively conversation and delicious food. Keith had to stop himself from taking second helpings of everything, knowing that the richness of it all would only disagree with his stomach. He had to slow down a few times and focus on listening to what everyone was saying instead.

Pidge was especially chatty, full of witty jokes and a tendency to ramble on when she was particularly interested in a topic. Shiro encouraged her in subtle ways; through a question or a quick statement, leading her through a wide range of subjects that were all equally fascinating to hear, even if Keith didn't understand all of what was being said.

It was by far one of the best meals Keith had ever had. He was almost sorry when it was over and Shiro and Curtis shooed him and Pidge outside while they cleaned up, ignoring all of their protests.

Keith stared at the door, his arms crossed over his chest as he waited for some sign that Shiro would let them back in. Minutes passed without any movement and Pidge grew tired of waiting.

“You know, you get a pretty good view of the stars around here,” she mentioned. “Want to stargaze with me?”

The question was unexpected. Keith was stunned for several long seconds before he found his voice long enough to agree. He followed her down the path into the garden, where there was a stone bench surrounded by tall-growing flowers, all of which were beginning to close up without the sunlight shining down on them.

Pidge sat down first, laying her cloak across the bench to provide slight warmth to the cold stone. “Sometimes I get the feeling that Shiro knows more than he lets on. He's not going to let us back in until he thinks we've made friends,” she said, patting the space next to her.

“He does always seem to know when I'm coming to visit,” Keith admitted as he took a seat. “Why stargazing though?”

“You'd rather stare at the door until he lets us go inside?” she asked with a grin.

“No. No, this is better,” Keith agreed, tilting his head back. It had been so long since he last took the time to look at the stars, but as he sat there he was brought back to a time when his dad was still alive. How many nights had they laid out under the stars, telling stories based on the legendary figures dotting the skies? What kinds of stories did Pidge know?

He didn't have to wonder for long.

Some of her stories he had heard before. Others were new. And then he was able to share the ones he knew from his dad and had the pleasure of watching her face light up in joy at hearing new stories.

When Shiro opened the door to let them in, neither of them noticed.

#voltron #fanfiction #kidge #kidgemas #Cinderella AU #light Shiro/Curtis

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fandom-necromancer · 4 years

Text

929. Now I know where half my wardrobe went.

This story was prompted by a lovely anon! Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900

Nines was anxious to begin. In front of him lay several wooden planks of various sizes, cardboard-boxes, tubes of glue and buckets of paint. He didn’t quite know how to begin; he had only bought what several websites suggested and had returned home. Killing time really wasn’t his strong suit. He didn’t know how long he stood there as a message came in. What r u doing tin-can? Gavin laid stretched out on his sofa, head hanging over the edge stretching his neck tense from work and bad posture. He held his phone in front of his face in a position that could as well be yoga. Enjoying my vacation in piece and silence, Nines send back, picking up a plank trying to “see” something in it like the articles had described. Aw, come on, what did I disturb that has you this pissed? Gavin grinned at the screen. It would be fun to get to know a more personal side of the toaster. What had him so frustrated? I’m trying to find a hobby, as you instructed me. A hobby different to making fun of you. Nines laid the plank down. There had to be easier ways. He grabbed the cardboard and stared at it with his best interrogation face. Oh, baby’s first hobby? Can I come over? Gavin didn’t want to miss Nines stumbling into humanity at any cost. For what reason? The android put down the cardboard too. Gavin coming over was something he wanted to avoid. Not to get it wrong, he liked the guy. It was pleasant to work with him and he actually was a nice conversationalist once he had completed his Gavin-English dictionary. But having him over to watch him fail a seemingly easy task wasn’t how he had planned his day to go. Hey, I’m human, I have hobbies. Maybe I can help you. Gavin wasn’t dumb, he realised the RK900 wanted his distance. But by God, if Gavin wasn’t a stubborn pain in the ass. And on top of that all: bored. Fine. Gavin had nearly texted an enthusiastic “hell yeah!” but stopped himself rolling off the sofa and very pointedly not run, just hurry a little, to his room to find something decent to wear.

He arrived at Nines apartment, knocking on the door and having it opened to the android out of his Cyberlife jacket. It was a bit taken aback by that; he had never seen him without it in his life. Maybe that was his idea of wearing something comfortable at home, who would know. ‘Err… Hi!’, Gavin greeted him and was let in with a simple ‘Detective.’ ‘Hey, you know we are not at work, you can just call me Gav- woah.’ Nines had closed the door behind him, leaving him to look into the living room full of wooden planks and other bulky material as well as tools. ‘Hey, toaster, you trying to build all the furniture for someone?’ ‘… No. Is it too much?’ ‘Depending what you want to do with it’, Gavin shrugged, kicked off his shoes to the side of the hallway and hung up his jacket. ‘If you want to re-furniture my brother’s mansion, then it would do I guess.’ ‘I planned on experimenting with basic woodwork and model making’, Nines explained a bit shy. ‘I don’t have anything else to do during the vacation you pressed on me.’ ‘Hey, don’t make me look like I’m the bad guy here. I’m sure Fowler won’t complain having you at the precinct without me.’ ‘He does complain. I went to work this morning and he told me to “go find a hobby”. You said the same to me, so I wanted to at least give it a try.’ ‘You actually went to- you know, never mind. What do you want to build?’ ‘I don’t know.’ ‘Well that’s unfortunate’, Gavin laughed. ‘You should have some idea.’ Nines sighed. He had known it would end in the man making fun of him. ‘If you came here just to see me fail, I would advise you to leave.’ Gavin looked at him startled. ‘Hey, Nines, I came here to help you. I mean it. Sorry that I laughed. It’s just… You prepared to build the Cyberlife tower life-sized with this and have no idea what to do. Normally people start smaller.’

Nines looked at the man marvelling at his mindless creativity. ‘That’s actually a good idea’, he nodded and didn’t pay the frowning human so much as a glance as he started picking up pieces of wood again. ‘What have I-‘ ‘Take a seat, Det- Gavin.’

It was fascinating seeing Nines work away with robotic speed and precision on a wooden block, until a few hours later he had completed a perfect replica of the Cyberlife tower. ‘Wow, that’s super impressive, Nines’, Gavin cheered. ‘It looks exactly like the real thing!’ The android smiled. Whether it was from the [mission successful] blinking in his HUD or from the praise he didn’t know. ‘And what are you going to do next?’, Gavin asked him. To Nines it was clear as day. ‘Why refurnishing your brother’s mansion when you can build a whole city?’

Nines had worked the whole day on his project and recreated belle-island. Gavin had sat there with him the whole time, just watching him and cheering whenever a building or tree was added to the bunch. One time he had ordered take-out and ate it and Nines hadn’t even batted an eye at it. Afterwards he had helped, gluing the buildings to a plate the android had cut to without doubt resemble the exact soil conditions over there. The man had left him only late in the night yawning and thanking him he had been allowed to come over. Nines accepted it, knowing well he should have been the one thanking him.

The next days he tried out a lot of different hobbies. Later, when he had made his mind up about how much he liked the different activities, he would continue with his projects. Gavin had only been there for some days and activities, enjoying his vacation only to come over when he was bored. Nines had begun caring after plants he had bought. He started cross-stitching. He took up cooking on a day Gavin was over for the practical reason of having someone to taste it only of course. He had tried puzzles, singing and foreign language learning. When it had come to magic tricks Gavin had been there as an audience for him. The last activities on his list were bread baking and pottery.

Baking was something simple, without much reward for him except for a nice smell. So it was on the same day he unpacked clay and set to work on a simple vase. He started up the electric potter’s wheel and started, fascinated at how the clay changed under pressure. Until he experimented too much with pressure and speed and the whole thing came suddenly flying at him landing across his chest. So much for pottery…

Frustrated he had been so stubbornly determined on trying it the human way without any program-guidance, he stood up to change into a clean turtleneck and wash the one he wore. Interestingly enough his wardrobe was empty. His spare upper-body clothes gone. Nines cocked his head to the side and closed it again. Had he left his spare pair at work? He didn’t care too much about it, as he went to the bathroom and pulled off his shirt to wash the clay away. He could always order new ones from Cyberlife as they had been produced in advance for the army he was supposed to become. When there were two-hundred-thousand jackets with his number on it, he wouldn’t shed any tears over it.

He put more interest in evaluating his experimentations. He disliked pottery. Cross-stitching was relaxing but felt inefficient to him. Caring for plants was too easy. At least with the plants he had bought. Puzzles were too little of a challenge too. Same with learning a new language, as he always could just download another patch. What he really liked had been cooking and building the model city. And doing the magic tricks with Gavin. What was the connection between them? Maybe if he found one, he could discover new hobbies with that trait more easily. He had liked Gavin’s reaction to his card and coin tricks. That was also true with cooking. And if he was honest with himself that too was the case with the model city. With a bit of shock, he realised that maybe he didn’t like these hobbies more than the others. Maybe he just liked that he had company. No that couldn’t be. That was so irrational. That wasn’t like him at all. But it was true.

He was faster out of the door that he could realise he had forgotten to fetch his jacket on the way out. A short drive through town he ended up in front of Gavin’s apartment hacking his lock to be let in. He had to tell him this weird development and needed a human to explain it. As far as he knew a hobby couldn’t be a person. He barged into the living room to face a terrified human wearing- ‘Is that my jacket?’ ‘I swear it’s not what it looks like!’, Gavin cried out, stumbling over the words. ‘Now I know where half of my wardrobe went’, Nines mused. ‘Wait, how does this look like?’ ‘Ahh, dunno, sorry! You can have it back!’ He scrambled off the sofa while pulling it off hurriedly. He finally got out of his Cyberlife jacket and had the seams of the turtleneck between his fingers as Nines gently put one hand on top of his with a pained look on his face. ‘Keep that on… please.’ ‘Err… okay. This is awkward as hell, sorry. Wait- half your wardrobe? I stole two things…’ ‘I don’t have to change. I don’t sweat. And my clothes never… They rarely get dirty.’ ‘Okay, we definitely have to go shopping someday’, Gavin uttered, still uncomfortable with being caught. Nines wanted to disagree, but then closed his mouth at the realisation that would mean he got time to spend with Gavin. So, he nodded. ‘Okay, after that weird start, what did you break into my home for anyways?’, Gavin asked. Nines straightened his back. ‘Is it possible for a hobby to be a person?’ The human laughed. ‘Heh, well, normal people would call that friendship or something, but… maybe? Why?’ ‘I tried out every hobby I had on my list. In the end I compared them all to find my favourite. I found out I had to add one.’ ‘Really? Then come on, tell me! What is it?’ ‘You.’

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #RK900 #Gavin Reed #Ok focus this is a story about clothes and people wearing the clothes of their SO(s) and whatnot #instructions unclear googled human hobbies #Just so you know Gavin's hobby is Nines too.#And now to the today you learned: cleaning shirts doesn't work with polymer clay I still have a stain on my chill-shirt #looks like a damn tooth paste stain too #sometimes being an artist and a human disaster coincides so who cares

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fisheoctrashdump · 3 years

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Jess 1-20 (with Jax, Blez, and Kaya)

So I completely forgot about the holiday headcanon and I currently can't think of any now so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Cooking

As we know, Jess is absolutely horrible at cooking.

I do imagine she has times where she thinks "Sacra and Blez make it look so easy…" and attempts to cook anyway, which predictably ends in disaster.

Even little Jess is bad at cooking, but she still enjoys helping with cooking/baking and dumping too much or weird ingredients into what's being made.

I also like to imagine Jess vibes in the kitchen with whoever is cooking (assuming she's not drowning herself with work) to feel like she's helping somehow. She usually somehow ends up standing in front of whatever drawer or cabinet the other person needs to get into every single time lol

Sleeping

She's surprisingly clingy when she's sleeping.

Before bless, I feel like Jess liked sleeping in smaller beds because it felt less empty.

Shortly after they started dating, Jess panicked that her bed wasn't big enough and went out to buy the biggest bed she could find. (Jase regretted helping her with it when he finds out why she got it lol)

Driving

Jess actually really enjoys driving. I imagine she finds long drives to be soothing, and it's something she does when she finally decides to take a break from the pressure of work or whatever else. She could barely fuckin see for the longest time, but she still managed to be a fairly decent driver despite this and nobody knew she had shit vision because of this lol

Bathing/showering

Admittedly, there were times Jess went without bathing for a few days because she was so focused on her work. She eventually forced herself to speed shower when she remembered to do it while drowning in her work. The other three in bleblesscra are a big help in reminding her to take care of herself and help her breaks

Hugging

(I'm going based off of memory for the next few so if things contradict other things then oof)

Just gonna stick hugging and general physical contact together

I don't imagine Jess is super comfortable with hugging, especially during and shortly after gen1 events. She does make an exception with Blee and Sacra, but only after she trusts them more.

Jess changes a lot by gen2. She is so much more affectionate with everyone around her.

Kissing

She feels uncomfortable initiating kisses, especially in public. After she and Blee start dating, Jess is very reluctant to kiss her considering what happened right before they did start dating. She eventually just feels comfortable enough around Blee that she allows herself to do this, as long as it's in private. When she starts dating Sacra, she still only initiates in private.

During gen2, Jess will kiss her partners whenever the mood hits. Typically, it's still mostly when she's alone with her partners, but occasionally Jess will see one of her partners and be filled with so much love for them that she will kiss them regardless of where they are or who's around.

Sex

Babies ewe

I don't have anything to share about her sex life that hasn't been mentioned before :(

Physical appearance

The biggest change to Jess's physical appearance between gen1 and gen2 is the glasses. Jess can finally see. I feel like she never got glasses before because she just didn't like them and really didn't want them. She will go times before gen2 where she will refuse to wear her glasses, but she eventually gets used to them

She also has shorter hair in gen2, but it's not much shorter. It's armpit length I think.

Wardrobe

Jess goes through a major wardrobe change between gen1 and gen2 holy shit. Before and during gen1, Jess wore mostly only darker colors like brown and black, and wore very concealing clothing. She owned pants, button up shirts, and high collared compression shirts, mostly.

After moving to earth, Jess expands her wardrobe a little. She starts adding orange and yellow clothing, and eventually, she also adds things like dresses and tank tops once she gets more comfortable with the idea of it :)

She also owns clothing for little space! Little Jess likes to wear overalls, but she also has like long striped socks and cute skirts and stuff uwu

Jewelry

No jewelry for her normally, but…

She does own a lot of jewelry for when she's in little space. Little jess loves jewelry, but it's mostly the cheap plastic stuff. I could see her wearing like ten necklaces at once and bracelets covering her arms and running around like that lol

Nickname

Jess is short for Jessabelle OwO

I think Sacra calls her Jessy when she's in little space

I don't think there's much for nicknames for Jess tbh

Dancing

I don't think Jess is much of a dancer, though I do like to imagine Sacra sometimes gets her to dance with him like a romantic slow dance kinda thing.

Singing

Jess doesn't like singing in front of other people. She's not super great at it, either. She sometimes sings certain songs when it's just her and Sacra, though.

Anger

Though Jess gets annoyed by little things very easily, it takes a lot to make her actually angry. She says things she doesn't mean when she's mad, and when in an argument with her, she will cut deep to whatever will upset that person. She takes her anger out on the source, usually, but this is sometimes a problem she faces with her partners. She will learn to hold back with them if they ever anger her, eventually.

Soft spot

Blee, Sacra, and Blez. She is so in love with them.

Photography. Seeing certain photos makes her melt, especially the amazing places she's photographed while doing travel photography.

The bleblesscra cats, eventually. Once she gets more comfortable around them, she welcomes all three of them laying on her (though she's still not sure why they choose to sleep on her so often lol)

Her children, once she has them.

Adrien, Jase, and Jax.

Probably Amanda, too.

Favorite possession

Her camera. This one is pretty obvious why

Her twenty one pilots jacket uwu

Favorite photograph

I mentioned this one before, actually, because I tried so fucking hard to draw it XDD 😭

Before and during gen1 events, Jess refused to have her picture taken. It takes a little while after moving to earth before Jess warms up to the idea, and she decides to make the first picture of her a picture of her and her partners together. It's her favorite, and always will be.

Relationship with ___

Jax

Jess's relationship with Jax is significant because he's the first person she connected with after being separated from her family (I mean, other than Embry but that was short lived XDD ._. )

Aside from reconnecting with Jase, of course, Jax became the only person Jess could rely on. She noticed early on into knowing Jax that he seemed to have a strong fondness for her, and honestly, it felt nice. Weird, but nice. It wasn't something she was used to, but Jess felt comfortable enough around Jax to start opening up to him. It was slow, of course, but she wanted to be closer to him.

By the time story events start, Jess will have a deeper friendship with Jax than she ever thought possible. He's the one she goes to for advice, and the one she most likes spending time with other than Blee. This all comes at a price, though, because she will realize that there's a lot that Jax is hiding from her and it feels strange. He knows so much about her, but she doesn't know a lot about him. She will understand, in a way, because after all she does keep some things from him (regarding Adrien, most specifically), but the balance between what she knows and what he knows is definitely off.

Additionally, she starts to wonder why Jax and Kiro are so distant. If it were her brother, she wouldn't hesitate to rebuild their relationship. She's even still trying with Jase, after everything they've gone through so far. All of this combined with the fact that Jax is hiding something from her about Jase causes Jess and Jax's relationship to suffer for a lot of gen1 events. In fact, it gets worse after she finds out what it was Jax was hiding from her. It hurts her, but when she finally gets a chance to talk to him face to face after atrova events, she is able to work through things with him and Jax ultimately gives the promise to Jess that he will be more open with her.

Leaving Jax behind to go to earth with the others will actually be pretty hard on Jess. She talks to him pretty often, and looks forward to seeing him on their visits. At one point during one of their visits to kartoffel, (before Jess has any kids of her own), Jax makes an excuse to spend time alone with Jess and they finally address the romantic feelings for each other that have been growing over the years. Jess and Jax make the decision to start dating, and enter a long distance relationship.

During gen2, Jess doesn't really have any issues with Jax. She's not aware of Jax keeping secrets from his other family because he doesn't do that with her anymore. She has known about the issues with Josine and Kiyan, and all of Jax's concerns and theories about everything.

Jess feels a lot of love for Jax like she does with her other partners. She sometimes wishes one of them lived closer so she could see him more often, but that's really her only complaint.

Blez

Blez didn't really make a good first impression on Jess. To her, Blez seemed like a child pouting over not getting her way. She felt even more uncomfortable being around Blee, because Blez gave them odd looks.

Once Blez apologized to Jess on atrova, she agreed with the points that were made, but she still didn't really feel that Blez was sincere about her intention of getting along with her. She was, though, and for a brief time she felt more comfortable in the group when Blez was around.

After Blez and Clay break up, she feels bad for her, but she doesn't think about it too much. When Blez talks to her and Sacra about her feelings for Blee, she wasn't really surprised, but… the timing was horrible, honestly. Regardless, Jess had no issues with Blez and told her to take that chance with Blee, if she really felt that way. (I've thought before that Jess might be uncomfortable or weirded out by Blez's feelings for Blee, just because of her situation with Jase, but I changed my mind on that. Blez is obviously different than Jase, and Jess would see that and not really be concerned about her being an insane yandere lol)

Through the rest of the story events, I have been imagining little moments between Jess and Blez where Blez asks Jess to help her learn how to defend herself and such. Actually, I think this happened during old hnmp events too? If it did I guess I just really liked that idea and it has stuck with me ever since.

Anyway, during this I feel like Jess starts to develop feelings for Blez. She sees Blez as a completely different person from where they started, and Blez shows the more complicated sides of her without completely unloading all her problems on everyone.

As they get closer, and Jess realizes her feelings for Blez, she kind of panics about it. Almost as bad as when she realized she had feelings for Sacra, honestly. The last of the story probably has so much going on that she's able to keep the thought out of her head, but once everything is resolved and they're all deciding what to do next, Jess is very aware of her feelings for Blez. And, she's just not sure that Blez even feels the same way.

At some point after they get to earth (and also after Blez and Blee start dating) Jess tries to find some way to confess to Blez. I'm not exactly sure how this will happen yet, tbh, because I still don't see Jess as confident enough to confess. Maybe Blez will? Who knows?

Anyway, Jess is so super soft for Blez. I imagine the positive energy Blez brings to the relationship is great for Jess. Also, whenever Blez starts going on about a new interest like an otome or show or something Jess is always just really supportive and trying but also so confused. She doesn't follow along with a lot of Blez's interests. It's moments like when Jess is sitting with Blez while she works on her cameras, or when they sneak off together to drink monsters and Blez lets Jess pick all the music that makes their relationship.

Kaya

I imagine Jess to be a very overprotective parent. With Kaya specifically, she becomes this way more with her after the event with Jaiden's dad. Jess feels horrible about what happened, and she blames herself for not being able to prevent it. All Jess wanted was for her kids to experience a better life than she got to, and with Kaya, she feels like she failed her.

Jess is very encouraging to Kaya. She noticed that Kaya seemed to pick up the same habits as her when it comes to work, so Jess tries to do for Kaya as her partners did for her. She helps Kaya take breaks and tries to encourage her to go hang out with her friends rather than letting her school work consume her. Some days it seems this worked a little too well, because Kaya will stay out until (or after) her curfew.

Despite all this, Jess is trying to trust Kaya to make good decisions. She does ask questions about where she's going and who she's going with, but Jess knows Kaya is prone to lying.

#jess #hnmp #headcanon ask game

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drabbleitout · 6 years

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WIP Page | Tag | Characters

Chapter 1: The Job

The heat was stifling. Had been for days.

In its capital, people flocked to the docks at market to see what goods they could buy. Summer was a popular time for slave buying. Myghal knew it all too well. At the foot of the platform stood a variety of curious customers. Most were Druel, natives of Akafar, staring up with their beady yellow eyes, square heads, and short noses, all a leathery shade of clay. As prices were announced they grunted in protest, some shouting lower offers trying to haggle. As foot traffic passed the mass of bystanders, they slowed, looking over the Humans as if at a zoo. Akafar was a planet of tradition, a rare place for someone who owned Humans. Younglings pointed, pulling their parents to stop as they shouted their nosiness.

“For all of those looking for a young servant, here we have a female just fresh of age with no previous owner.�� The wiry octopod at the end of the stage announced. The girl beside Myghal lowered her face as all eyes turned to her, “Tall and petite she is made perfect for interior duties, costing little to none in feed.”

“Pick your face up.” Myghal whispered, catching her attention. With a nod towards the crowd he repeated himself, “If they can’t see your face, they won’t buy you. They’ll think you’re sick.” She didn’t lift her head or speak, her chains lightly clattering with her shaking, “If no one buys you they’ll send you to a kennel.” She paused, drawing in a deep breath before picking up her head to look out over the crowd. At once people called out offers, “Put your hands in front of the chains, if you have clean hands they’ll buy you for maid work. Trust me, it’s the best there is.” She moved slowly, unclasping her hands from her rag of a shirt to let the links slide around. It made the chains heavier but earned more bidders.

She was bought by a slender Taxol man who was being shaded by a servant to keep him cool despite the wooly strands that covered him. Expectantly the girl looked to Myghal, waiting for a signal. He smiled, winking which made her sigh.

“And for those of you in search of a veteran, this one may be just for you. We have a towering male, experienced with security, protection, mercenary service, or simply valet. This one has served in seven galactic armies, four mercenary guilds, and even as a close protection officer for your late General Pryork.” Myghal shifted his weight again, huffing as the girl stared at him. No one made a bid even as the price dropped to forty five orbs, “What he costs in feed he makes up for in profit. Never worry about theft or assault again! Send this Human into the draft in your stead!” By his voice Myghal could tell the man was beginning to give up. Few people mumbled to one another, shaking their heads, some leaving. If they couldn’t sell him now... Myghal shuddered thinking about it.

“I’ll give sixty orbs for him.” At the shout, Myghal turned his head to look at them, burning his jaw on the manacle. A preteen Druel boy stood near the back, lifting a clutch of orbs up into the air, waving madly. The salesman stood dumbfounded, “Sixty orbs if I can have him right now.”

“Sixty orbs?” Myghal whispered to himself.

“Of course!” The salesman waved to his partners, the rough ones who leapt on stage. From habit, Myghal took a step back, wincing as they roughly removed the cuffs. As they released him the Druel boy rushed up to the stage, his head still pointed in adolescence. He handed the seller the purse, quickly signing away at the paperwork. The assistants wrenched Myghal’s head back to remove the manacle about his throat.

“We’ll see you in a few months, Dekka.” One of them menacingly hissed.

“Getting too old for profit now. Next time we’ll just take you out to one of those dying systems.” The other chuckled, pressing the collar against his jaw, burning him as he worked the lock.

“Now, fellas, I know you get heartbroken when I leave—”

“Careful with him! Careful! I won’t have any damages.” The boy shouted, wagging a finger at the two men. Myghal smirked as they released his bonds.

“That’s right, don’t tarnish the varnish.”

“Get out.” The first and taller one growled. With that he was shoved towards the stairs, the boy waving him to leap down. With a sigh Myghal took direction, hopping down for the boy to take his wrist, tugging them through the crowd.

“Make way! Make way –move.” He shouldered past people who stood and gawked at Myghal, horrified shock on their faces as he grew too close, “We’ve got work for you and little time. We’re going to need to clean you up, you look horrible. You need something better to wear than just rags. Lady Imdali won’t accept you like this. Not at all.” He pulled trying to make Myghal go faster, “Come on, we don’t have a lot of time. We need to hurry!” Myghal lengthened his stride finding it was more acceptable for the rushing teen.

As he was taken through the towering, clay buildings more and more people gawked at him. He didn’t mind, too caught up in the coolness of the shade. With at least one hand free he wiped sweat from his brow, smearing dirt and his messy bangs away from his eyes. The farther they traveled up the winding hill, the more greenery embellished homes. There were trees with thick, wide leaves which provided shade on the brightly decorated houses. Myghal remembered the wealthier sections from previously being bought to fight in Druel's civil war. Luckily, it hadn't lasted long and damage was minimal.

Still they walked, homes growing several stories tall complete with gardens and courtyards. The home they rounded was three levels high with a taller tower, lined in arched pillars and teardrop windows. They passed through a gated arch, into a dark hall that led into a wide, sun filled courtyard. He gawked at the practical forest that lined the walls. Everything from wide palms and thorny succulents to flowering ferns and wrapping vines. Myghal had never seen such in a residence, nevertheless on the baked clay of Akafar.

“Hurry!” He was reminded, tugging him from his daze.

Inside was much cooler, open windows sweeping in wind laced with sweet scents of flowers. Every room had a rounded ceiling, the halls long decorative arches, an array of vining decorations lining the trim and insets on walls and doors. On a few of the walls were framed pictures of landscapes and strange pottery on pedestals. The air smelt of warm spices and nectar, intoxicating in the summer air. Several other servants met them, looking to be well off, fed often without bruises or marks, none of them even calloused. It was strange to see such, even given his own room to bathe in. When he exited he was given an outfit of white and black, tailored and trimmed like some sort of uniform. His dark hair was dried and styled, face shaven, and then he was lead out through a secret door into larger and wider halls. These were lit buy sunlight, leading around the courtyard where a few young trees stretched up. Myghal awed at every new room they entered, floors slick marble, shined and cleaned.

A room ahead was lit by muted sunlight that pressed through sheer curtains. There was much less air flow, letting the smoke of incense hang low. An array of pillows and cushions were thrown in piles around the room, on one of the towers sat a stocky, old Druel woman. She didn’t look at him when he entered, working a glittering cloth through her large hands as she sipped on a waterpipe. Myghal stood before her, subconsciously taking up his straight military stance. Her silken white hair fell to one side as she nodded, handing the fabric to a nearby servant. Her face was just as pale as her hair with strange dark markings like marble all across her skin. There were wrinkles around her mouth and closed eyes. The servant causally turned and left the room, leaving it quiet. Myghal began feeling weary at the warmth, comforting after a chilling shower.

“Well, well, you were still there after all.” She chuckled smoke, her voice grating warmly like most elders did. She smiled, moving the hose slowly to her mouth as she lifted her head towards him, “How fortunate. I hope you haven’t been ill-treated.”

“Absolutely not, your staff is wonderful.” She laughed again.

“I meant the slavers, but I’m glad to hear my servants were good to you as well.”

“Oh.” Myghal grimaced at the mistake.

“So, tell me, what do they call you where you’re from?”

“Myghal.” He answered with a bow of the head.

“Hm, then you must be from Maga, correct?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Fine, fine.” She nodded, blowing smoke from the slits of her nose, still not opening her eyes to look at him, “Myghal, why don’t you sit down, you must be exhausted from your trip.” She motioned to any of the piles behind him. Backing up a few paces he sank down into a fortress of cushions, gritting his teeth at the rush of pleasure from resting his legs, “So, you’re from Maga? From what I hear you’ve been to a good many places. Is this your first time to Akafar?”

“I served here under General Pryork when I was young. I’ve noticed very little has changed.” She rocked with heavy cackling, pausing to breath on the waterpipe before answering.

“You speak like such an old man. Even for being considered middle age of your kind, you must remember, there are those of us who watched the birth of stars.” She shook her head, “Unfortunately, you are wrong. So much has changed.”

A figure moved in from a doorway, Myghal double taking at the sight of them draped in a dark cloak, hood covering their features. He scrambled to his feet, at the ready if command was given. The cloaked figure drew up short, the room’s warm lighting of the room only shining on parts of their face: a chin, high cheeks, and the end of a narrow nose, “Stand down.” Lady Imdali snickered, “This louse won’t do you any harm.”

“Mirth, what is this?” Came a dark and dangerous voice from the hood.

“This is my newest purchase.” She was still amused, nodding to Myghal, “Take a seat.” Backing away hesitantly, Myghal lowered back into his place, eyes locked onto a bit of floor between him and Lady Imdali, “They had him for sale at the docks.” The cloaked figure hadn’t moved but Myghal could feel an acidic stare on him.

“This was the replacement?” A snort, “Doesn’t look like a very good one.”

“Not a replacement.” She shook her head, facing lifting as the hooded man moved over to her. Myghal wondered if she could actually see somehow, considering the man moved just as silent as a shadow. Expectantly she held out a thick, four fingered hand, flashing large, square molars as a jingling purse was dropped into her palm, “You see, now he’s free.”

“You paid that much for him?”

“I didn’t pay anything for him.” She held the purse by the mouth, shaking it as she snickered. The cloaked figure sighed, hood shaking slowly as they turned away from her. His thin form drifted to a bare place of crimson carpet on the far wall, dark robes circling him like black hole.

“I doubt he’s even worth that much.” Myghal heard the grumble, but kept his face impassive in front of his new owner.

“Ira, what have I said about your manners? This is our newest Hailite.”

“You can’t be serious.” Ira huffed, slouching back upon a pile of cushions, stretching out two long legs that crossed at the ankles. Myghal’s distrust eased into curiosity.

“I’m very serious.” Lady Imdali turned to Ira, “You mustn’t forget I bought him.”

“You stole him.”

“No, my dear, you did that.” She reminded him with another shake of the purse. Ira responded with a throw of his narrow shoulders, “Well then, while we talk, would you like something to eat, Myghal?” And then, before he could answer, “Of course you would, I doubt they’ve fed you much.” She called for a servant to ask for meals, “And you, Ira?” She looked to him only gaining a grunt, “Very well, only for the two of us then.” The servant left and the room was filled in awkward silence, “Myghal here is from Maga.” Ira snorted, two slender hands escaping the darkness with a knife, cleaning his oval nails with it. Myghal couldn’t help but notice how more and more Human like he was, “He’s been a bodyguard and even served in Akafar’s army.”

“Is that what makes him a Hailite?” Ira hacked the title of protector.

“It would be wise to hold your tongue. Myghal here is more than capable, Ira. I’m sure, if it came down to it, he would have no problem dealing with you.” Ira mumbled his doubt, “Ira?”

“What?”

“Look at me.” Myghal wasn’t sure how she could see his face for the hood, or at all for that matter, “Tell me what you see.” Her whisper was calm, careful, like a mother speaking to their child. The void of the hood turned to Myghal.

“A Human.” Ira muttered darkly, “A full blooded Human Kelt.” Myghal held face at the spitting word, clasping his hands as he stared unwavering into the hood.

“What else?” She whispered, patiently waiting. “Ira?”

“Nothing. That’s all I see –it’s all he is.”

“There must be more.” Ira was quiet, easing his knife away as his legs retracted into the cloak as if ready to spring up.

“Their skin is thin, they bleed easy –soft.” Ira continued in a dark whisper, “He can only take a few shots and cuts. It’s surprising he’s lasted this long.” Again he paused, hood tilting, “He’s the color of rust, something hungry about his eyes. Bloodthirsty probably. Yet he sits tall for a slave, someone’s trained him, taught him, but lessons only go so far.”

“And?” Lady Imdali pressed.

“He’s tall, even for a Human. His legs and torso are even in length, so he has decent balance –which may be what saves him.”

“Is he strong?”

“Probably.”

“And fast?” There Ira didn’t answer, merely standing.

“I won’t stomach being in this room with him any longer.” He moved across the floor, grating a noise of disgust as he passed Myghal.

“Ira, stop.” Lady Imdali commanded and he drew up instantly in the doorway. The cloak spilled from his thin frame, hanging from sharp shoulders like a shadow stretched by the angle of the sun, “Don’t forget what you owe me, sit back down.” Myghal cautiously glanced between them at the warning in her words. Ira didn’t move, “Sit.” The hooded head lowered before he snapped in a turn, sitting in place, “You’re to be present for this discussion.” With that she looked to Myghal, lifting her chin, “Human or not, the rumor is you succeed at every job you’re bought for. You practically work yourself out of an owner.”

“I do.” Myghal bowed his head still unsure if she could actually see him.

“Then this job will be no different. I’m sending you on a very important mission to deliver something for me.” Ira sat up straighter at her tone, “On the far side of our supercluster resides the smallest galaxy in the universe. In fact, it marks the very center of the universe.” Ira was to his feet again.

“This wasn’t what we discussed.” He interrupted, stopping her. Myghal noticed the man’s hand, smooth and padded with five fingers in a fist. His skin however was that of moonlight, a pale blue, “This was my job.”

“It still is your job. The whole reason I bought you!” She snapped in return, “If you would let me finish.”

“If it’s my job, why is this Kelt here?”

“To escort you.” Myghal gawked as he looked back at her, completely dumbfounded. He only ever worked completely alone or in an army, never with a –well, whatever Ira was. Lady Imaldi turned back to him, ignoring Ira’s jutting hand, “It’s called the Womb, the beginning of everything. I’m certain you’ve noticed the dying stars, races, entire solar systems? It’s spreading.”

“The dying of stars?”

“The death of life.” She nodded, “The universe is old, extremely old. Even older than the one that came before.”

“Before?”

“He’s a Kelt, too stupid to understand.” Ira snapped.

“Ira, sit.” She said with a low voice of finality. He froze but didn’t follow orders. “Ira.”

“He doesn’t have the merit to see the Womb or the Nuclei.” She lifted a hand to him, spreading her thick fingers before slowly pressing down to the floor. Ira sank to a knee as if gravity suddenly changed. Myghal’s insides tensed, nervously looking to her not sure what he was witnessing.

“The universe is in a constant loop of death and rebirth, nothing about it or within it immortal. There have been several universes, each coming and going to give birth to the next, just as the years come and go. How long they each last depends on how they are born. This universe was cradled into existence by an order of diverse beings –true Hailites. Now, however, The Cite look to change it for themselves.”

If Myghal’s stomach wasn’t a knot, it was now.

“Ah, I see you know the threat Cites can be. They were the ones who took you from your native planet Earth, weren’t they?” He only nodded, “They want as many of the stars to die out, reigning in their control for the rebellion of underlings. I predict they will let anyone besides their own freeze in space before they seek a solution. Then they will have nothing but loyal hounds of their own to restart the universe and shape it to their liking. They look to become gods.”

“Won’t the Cite know what we're doing?” Myghal whispered as if speaking about them would bring them storming in.

“I doubt it.” She smirked, “That’s why I’ve hired only you,” she looked to Ira, “and him. Ira is a thief, if there’s one thing he can do, it’s get to and from a place undetected. But, as you can guess, Ira isn’t honed to battle or travel space such as yourself. He needs an escort. Someone with experience.”

“This wasn’t the agreement, Mirth.” Ira grumbled, “The Cite will be suspicious of a Human Hailite.”

“No one is suspicious of any Hailite. If they are, make it work.” She stated slowly for emphasis, “You know what will happen if you don’t.”

“If it works, if I succeed, is the reward still the same?”

“If you succeed together, yes.” She nodded deeply, “You will both be free.” Myghal became numb at the word, throat closing as he watched her, “I’m certain that’s something both of you can find comradery in. This is your only chance to gain what you seek. Do I have your word, Ira?” He hesitated before gathering himself, sitting back against the corner of the doorway. The servants entered with warm plates of soup and broiled meat. Myghal’s stomach was still unsettled, but the smell was pleasant. Once the food was handed out Ira stood, hooded head turned for Myghal. The servants left and there was quiet.

“You may go, Ira. Pack for the morning.” He didn’t bow or snarl, turning on his heels to leave the room.

#my writing #my wip #scifi chapter preview #chapter 1 #the womb #scifi wip #my characters #my oc's #4k words #actual factual chapter

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jpcanvas · 2 years

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3: Traditional model making

Once I had a plan for my models I began by sculpting the heads using polymer clay, trying to blend colours in order to get less natural skin tones for the ‘Cleaners’ and not mixing any for the human characters. As I had never worked with polymer clay before, I found it a bit tough to work with to start with. However, after looking online I found that I should use aluminium foil in order to keep my models lighter and also save on how much clay I use. By doing this, I also found that the clay was much easier to work with and didn’t lose its overall shape as easily and this was a technique I then continued to use in future projects. Used the same sculpting tools I would normally use for regular clay and found that there wasn’t much difference in the effect they had, however, due to how much rigid the polymer clay was, I found that sometimes I had to either push harder on the clay to make a mark or I had to warm the clay up by rolling it in my hands, this didn’t end up effecting the work at all.

Once my models had been sculpted I needed to bake them in the oven, since I had used two different types of polymer clay with different baking times I decided to use the longer of the two times just to make sure all the clay was fully baked. This didn’t seem to cause any issues with the final result, however I found that some parts that were connected to the head such as the eyes and ears had come off after baking due to the clay shrinking, This wasn’t an issues as when the parts had been baked I could just glue them back to each other. However, to avoid this in future I could ‘pin’ my parts together which simply means putting a metal rod between them as a sort of internal scaffolding.

Once the heads were baked and cooled I gave them a simple paint job with a dark ink wash to show any details such as wrinkles, and then a drybrush with a pink colour to highlight any fleshy parts such as the ears or nose. After this I then added any extra parts I needed such as the hair or glasses, which although fiddly, was not too hard.

After the heads were finished I made a skeleton for each model using aluminium wire, I then coated any thicker parts of this with foam, meaning the wire could still be flexed underneath, allowing me to pose the models. One mistake I made with this was using super glue to stick these pieces together, as superglue dried rigid, although this didn’t effect the end result too much, it could have potentially ruined the model, therefore, in future I should use PVA or some other sort of flexible glue in order to join these bits.

After the body and skeleton were done, I had to make clothes for the models, I realised that since the models would only be seen from the front in the final illustration, I could save myself some time and just focus on keeping the front of the model looking nice without worrying about the back, because of this I used superglue to hold the back of the clothes together instead of sewing them, and this saved me hours of work. Tailoring clothes is not a technique I have used on my models before and because of this I did initially struggle with making the clothes, however, after watching how full sized clothes are made, I used a few of the techniques I saw but on a much smaller scale, as well as this. Since I was using scraps from old clothes, I chose to use the existing stitching in the clothes wherever it would be on the final model, such as using the hem of some denim as the waistline on the model in order to add some detail and realism without taking a much longer time.

Once the clothes on the models were all made and dry, I decided to help sell the dirty effect I would dust some pigment onto them. I hadn’t used this technique on fabric before so I wasn’t sure how it would turn out, however it worked very well and I ended up using this technique in a lot of other parts of the project. One thing that didn’t work as well was trying to apply a watered down paint to the models to look like staining, due to the light colour of the paint and the dark colour of the fabric, this didn’t show up as much as I hoped. However I now know this for future projects.

Another model I had to make was the large head for the shot of the ‘Cleaner’ eating the rubbish. To do this, I used a similar technique to what I had with the smaller models, however, instead of using aluminium wire for a skeleton, I used some scrap wood and foil and foam to bulk it up. I then used air drying clay to cover the whole model. I used air drying clay as its cheaper than polymer clay, and I wouldn’t be able to bake modelling clay to set it due to the size of the model and the fact it was also made from wood and foam. To help make the model more life like, I textured the clay with a textured roller in order to give it a skin texture. Although this was a good effect, I think I overdid it a bit and if I were to do it again in future, I would tone it back as I think it made the model too busy.

Now that all the handmade elements of the models were done, I had to produce finer details such as hands and feet digitally...

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caitlindawart · 6 years

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Producing our Sculpture - Workshop with Martin Copley.

For our ceramics workshops, we worked with sculptor and artist Martin Copley, who specialises in sculpting human heads. He spoke to us about his work and his interests in ceramics, before starting with demonstrating to us how to sculpt a human head of our own.

We began with two balls of clay, slightly larger than the palm of our hand. We rounded these balls of clay and then made a hole with our thumb in the ball, producing what is known as a “pinch pot”, as we made the rim of the pot thinner by pinching and smoothing it out, keeping our thumb inside the pot. Once we had done this to both pots, we could then join the two together, making a ‘peanut’ shape, which we then rolled and smoothed to produce a head shape. Then, we used the crevice between our thumb and forefinger to produce an indent 2 thirds of the way down the head, which when smoothed produced the neck indent. From here, we now had a defined head and neck, and could then go on to build the facial features. To do so, we made a T shape in the centre of the head with our thumb and forefinger, producing two eye sockets and the base of a nose. At this point, we added the eyes - ‘2 eggs’ into the sockets, with ‘2 sausages’ above and below each ‘egg’. Then, we blended in the ‘sausages’, creating eyelids. Next, I built upon the nose, adding more to the bridge of the nose, then going in to add the tip of the nose and adding definition around the corners of the nose - called the ‘ala’. Next, I added two more sausages in the mouth area, with the one on top being longer than the one below, and blended these into the head, adding the philtrum to create lips. Although this was my first attempt at ever sculpting with clay, I didn’t feel as though it was as effective as it could have been and didn’t actually look entirely realistic. The lips seemed too small, and the eyes seemed very wide and close together.

After making the first sculpture, we were then instructed to produce a second head, this time much larger. To start the base of this head, we had to work slightly differently to when we worked on a smaller scale, this time building the height of the head upwards using thick sausages of clay as oppose to using two pinch pots joined together. Once the base of the head was built, the facial features were applied in the same way as explained above. This time, however, I had slightly more experience and understanding than the first, and found working on a larger scale much easier. To improve on my first attempt, I realised the eyes needed to be spaced much further apart, so did this on my larger head, making it look considerably more realistic. I also decided I wasn’t very pleased with the hair on my original sculpture and didn’t feel it looked very realistic, so instead opted for individual waves of hair which I applied, smudged and blended out, and then worked into with the hair making tool. I felt this looked very effective and I believe the hair is my favourite bit of the second piece.

From here, I also questioned Martin on more ways to improve my head and make it look more realistic, to which his response highlighted the fact that my larger head needed tear ducts adding, and the lips didn’t seem very well shaped and therefore decreased the realistic aura of the piece. To fix this, I added another ‘sausage’ above the top lip, blending it into the top lip and ensuring to add the philtrum again, which I was extremely pleased with; and also added the tearducts.

I then also added one more ‘sausage’ above each eyelid as I felt the eyes currently looked too sunken in, and after blending this out I was very pleased with the eyes and felt they looked very realistic. A final mistake I spotted, was that the face of the large head looked too flat, and therefore I added one ball of clay to each cheek and blended out, creating cheek bones. Doing so made the face really effective and I was now very pleased with it. The first image below is before all of these additions, and the one below is once all of these additions were added.

I properly made an attempt at thinning the hair that framed the face as I wanted it to be as realistic as possible and at the moment it looked slightly ‘blocky’, so I used a flat tool and a my finger to rub the clay from the top with the tool beneath, making the clay thinner. Doing so made the effect that the hair wasn’t just stuck to the face, instead it had volume and body of its own.

At this point, I asked Martin again for any other advice before I marked it as complete, to which his response was to just clean and neaten up the neck, as the rough edges would break off during the firing process. I cut the rough edges with a knife, producing a clean cut base, and then decided to add a pattern to the base of the neck, replicating a blouse to make the whole piece look more realistic. After adding ‘buttons’, I felt this was very effective and at this point I had completed my final piece.

The difference between my first attempt and second attempt is stark. I was actually very surprised, looking between the two, at how much it is possible to improve in a matter of hours/a day. The comparison can be seen below.

Surprisingly, I enjoyed the process and really enjoyed working at a larger scale. I found the methods of using the ‘sausages’ and ‘eggs’ easy to remember, and working with an artist who was also a teacher was considerably more helpful as he was able to give us helpful tips, ways of remembering things, as well as constructive criticism which allowed us to produce a better, much more realistic outcome. I don’t know whether I will be using clay again in my future development, but I was surprised with how pleased I was with my end result and enjoyed being thrown out of my comfort zone but in a relaxed manner.

Glazing

After all of our sculptures were finished, we then had to put them in the kiln to bake. We had the choice of glazing our pieces in black or white, or no glaze at all, which produces a ‘smoked’ black/grey/green colour. I covered my large head in black glaze and the tiny head in white glaze. We then transported them to Martin’s where we fired them in two separate kilns as not to get the glazes mixed up and ruin the colours.

Below is a step by step of the firing process:

After leaving the heads in the kiln, the heads are then taken out of the kiln and are put into an air tight metal case filled with wood shavings.

This sets the wood shavings alight as it removes the oxygen from the copper carbonate, leaving the copper behind.

When removed, they are then placed on the ground and are the correct colour as glazed. For the white glaze they remain white, and for the black glaze they turn a petrol spill colour due to the remaining copper.

Here is another example, this time using the white glaze in the white kiln.

Here is the outcome of my ceramic head workshops. I was more pleased with the black glaze outcome due to the petrol spill finish than I was the white glaze.

Second Workshop - Creating a Sculpture to be Installed in a Specific Location

For the second half of our workshops with Martin, he spoke to us about his inspirations; Sally Matthews’ ceramic installations in Grizedale Forest and the Prague Holocaust Memorial amongst many others. Our next instruction was to produce a sculpture to be ‘installed’ - via Photoshop, in a specific location. I took to Pinterest for inspiration, finding different types of sculpture which I felt were effective. I chose to produce an octopuses tentacle, which I would then edit around a boat in Photoshop, with my initial sketch inserted below.

I sculpted the tentacle, adding the suckers separately and ensuring to blend them properly to prevent them from falling off. Once I had done so, I then dried the sculpture with the hair dryer, as we weren’t going to be firing these small sculptures in the kiln. Unfortunately, once dried, the thin end of the tentacle broke off. I glued this back together using hot glue, but was left with a messy result. Then, I took images of my sculpture, seen below, ready to edit in Photoshop.

From here, I opened the most effective image into Photoshop, alongside an image of a ship wreck that I had previously taken.

On top of this I added an octopus skin texture which I had downloaded from the internet.

Then, I played around with blending modes in the same way I had with the abstract photography edits. I increased the brightness to 130 and the contrast to 100, then added a colour balance layer of 100 red, 83 green and 100 blue. Finally I increased the exposure to 0.28 and the contrast to 21. Now, I was pleased with the blue shade of the tentacle and the blending of the texture, I was able to “superimpose” the tentacle onto my image of the boat.

To start with, I brought the edited tentacle layer into the image, and duplicated this layer, then added a hue/saturation filter to it, removing all the colour from the shape to produce a black shadow. Then, I moved the two into position, removing areas of the shadow which weren’t needed, and adding a shadow from the base of the tentacle.

I realised, however, that due to the boat being on sand and not in water, it wouldn’t have made sense for the tentacle to be coming out of the ground, so I changed my plan, using a water background and adding more shadows in. I was much happier with this outcome, and whilst I felt that the octopus texture was too large, I still felt overall it was effective and I was pleased with the finished piece, seen below.

Life Drawing

To end our ceramics workshops, we finished with a life drawing using clay. Our model sat front on in a comfy chair for 2 hours, while we sculpted her and the chair. Surprisingly, I really enjoyed this and was very pleased with the start I made, however I wish we had had more time with her as I wanted to add details etc, but instead only got the basic chair and figure. Whilst we had the opportunity to carry on sculpting the day later, I didn’t feel as though this was as authentic as I wanted so didn’t add any more without the model present.

#ceramics

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