#I felt like drawing a super pink picture and i feel this design was better suited for rin anyway
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🎶 ✨ 🌸 Rin Fairy Type 🌸 ✨ 🎶
#anime#vocaloid#pokemon#rin kagamine#I felt like drawing a super pink picture and i feel this design was better suited for rin anyway#rin is the legwarmers queen okay i dont make the rules
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Since APPARENTLY I did the designs all wrong (I won’t lie - doing my own design of Evangelia was sort of a thinly veiled attempted to get @callistochan87 to redesign her herself. >.>), I figured I’d make it my life mission this week to go through and, like, fix them. Partially because in my fuming about finding out that two of the people were talking about this behind my back, I kept giving myself ideas. >.<
I am pleasantly pleased with the design that @callistochan87 did for Evania/Evangelia, although I’m worried how much is actually influenced by my design and how much she actually decided to do on her own. *shrug* I just like the simplicity of it and how it does make her look like a goddess. I kept forgetting to add in the pieces in front of her ears, lol.
Antigonus I did fiddle with a little bit. Mostly, @callistochan87 mentioned that she thought it was funny having this super old guy traveling with a bunch of teenagers, and she wondered why I didn’t just...make someone new. Well, mostly because I didn’t want to, and mostly because when she did create someone new when I decided the Guides were supposed to be younger, it felt...wrong.
SO, I decided to age him down a little. Which I suppose sort of defeats the purpose of @callistochan87 creating another character when I wanted to do the same, but ignore that. He basically has the same backstory - he was the youngest Guide of the previous generation. He’s the heir of the empire, being the Emperor’s nephew, and now that his Guide duties are over, he’s preparing to take over the Empire. EXCEPT, the idiot new Guide managed to get himself killed, so Antigonus is temporarily taking over the duties as they try to find someone else to take over. BUT THEN GUESS WHAT? He’s about 35, so while he’s old, he’s not stupidly older than than, and is sort of more of a chaperone than anything else.
His outfit come from an old one @callistochan87 designed, and I figure it’s just, like, a traveling outfit? idk
Freyja...omg, Freyja. She caused most of my strife. Like, I honestly didn’t change THAT MUCH of her design, just sort of little piddly stuff to make it look more visually appealing, but APPARENTLY, that was still bad. I stewed and hemmed and hawed on this for quite a while, annoyed before it hit me - this is a a redesign. Shizuka sort of went back to her roots. Why couldn’t Freyja as well?
(And yes, I realize I was in the wrong, but like I said, I hadn’t changed her that much from her last design, and, well, these were done years ago so I sort of...forgot that she didn’t originally look like that. >.<)
And I figured, ya know, since I had minorly changed Freyja and she didn’t like that, I had better change Desiree, too, because I drastically changed her. I don’t care what @swankifiedcos says about this one, I am IN LOVE with her outfit. <3 Her hair, though, was inspired by a recent picture of @swankifiedcos of her hair between dye jobs where it was pink at the tips and she looked SO PRETTY. Sure, Desiree is brunette, not blond, but I like that look on her so much I wanted to recreate it somewhat, and she looks so nice!
Frejya, well, I did sort of tweek her design slightly to what @callistochan87 did, mostly giving her cold shoulder sleeves as a sort of call back to her old sleeves. I won’t lie - I did attempt to do them again and failed spectacularly. Sorry. But apparently she approves of this sleeve, so that’s...one less problem for me to deal with. XD Just so you know, I gave her hearts rather than flowers merely because I can’t draw flowers. Consider it a style thing. Like, in reality, she has flowers, but i just draw them as hearts. I am SHOCKED that I was able to make the feathers as nice as I did, though! This look makes SO MUCH more sense than the way we used to draw it. Me likely.
(Also, you might be thinking that she’s still wearing the pants. I originally indended that, with the thought that she comes from a cold kindgom, but then decided they’re actually shorts that she ended up added to her outfit for modesty sake, much like Sethos did with his shirt. :P)
I really wanted to redo Nannin’s outfit as well, but I’m sorry - I’m lazy, and her original outfit is both too detailed and too simple. So I just made her top layer a darker pink, and I like it better. Also made her a blond again with the idea that the people of Melohdia like like normal ass humans, and the Chosen have colored hair, and the Guides have unnatural colored eyes, which is how people can tell they’re Guides.
Geoffrey (I’m thinking of renaming him Geauffery, because that’s how I prenounce it in my head) over there gets a new design as well because I didn’t care for his other one. >.< Also, decided, as much as I like the name Dimitri Kaminiski, I;m going to go ahead and make him Owen again. Mostly because he’s sort of shifted more into being Owen. I was sort of going with this old look while making it look a little more medieval, and I like it. I also decided he’s not a soothsayer, but rather a magician.mage.
Which is sort of similar to Evangelia’s power, but not quite. She uses the power of miracles, whereas he uses actual magic. Its sort of like how Shizuka and Freyja’s power is similar, but Frejya’s is a little weaker. (Shizuka has mastery over all weapons, whereas Freyja just has mastery over bludgeoning people with a huge ass axe. But she has the benefit of also having magic, whereas Shizuka can just use some fire magic.)
The next design is where it get all long and involved. Basically as I was stewing about having my feelings hurt and how I was going to hide everything in my annoyance, I THINK I was briefly reminded of the last time I screwed up and within that instance a brilliant idea came to me, mostly because I needed more villains.
I remember I really like Astrid’s design, but looking back, I’m sort of confused as to why? It doesn’t look at all better than Freyja’s. >.< Anyway, the thought is simple - when the Chosen are originally yanked into Melohdia, Nuncio replaces one of them with one of his own that would be easily manipulated. Why Freyja, you ask? Plot reasons, since it does help explain the whole Nannin thing a lot better. The thing is, though, that Ariadne and Atalo sort of find out and drag Freyja in as well, except she ends up in Baldernan rather than Azibo with the rest of the Chosen.
So the Chosen are in Azibo thinking Astrid is one of them, except they don’t really vibe with her that well. They just figure it’s because they can’t like everyone, and ignore it. Astrid herself doesn’t really suspect anything. But then they travel to Baldurnan and find Freyja there, who they do vibe with very well, and they find out that Astrid is a fake.
Which would be all fine and well. Even Freyja’s willing to give the girl a chance because, hey, it’s not her fault she was falsely brought into this world with no purpose. Except Astrid is a spoiled bitch and takes it as an affront that they would even want to include Freyja at all. So she just sort of runs off and Nuncio catches up to her, and convinces her that she’s the real one, and and she goes around antagonizing the group from time to time. They think she’s in league with Atalo at first until they find out of the truth.
NEW IDEA. I actually had this very vague idea while musing around, but @callistochan87 had another idea that was similar enough that I can change things to make it work WAY better. So, the new idea is mostly that Nuncio pulls Astrid into Melohdia way before the others. The people are rather confused, certainly, but it’s not 100% unheard of one Chosen being brought over. So she’s treated like something of a god and spoiled further, and Nuncio pretty much convinces her that she’s the soul savior of Melohdia. He assigns Thor to be her Guide, although he’s just some Random Dude (because I decided that matching genders to the Chosen is sort of weird, so Nannin is a full Guide now).
BUT Ariadne and Atalo end up pulling the REAL Chosen a month or so later, which REALLY pull the people for a loop, and they realize that Astrid is a fake once they realize that Thor isn’t a real Guide and that Nannin claims Freyja. The group attempts to assimilate Astrid in with them, because they realize it’s not HER fault all this happened, but since she’s a fake Chosen AND a narcissistic bitch, they end up not viving all that well, and she ends up running away in anger and embarrassment.
Nuncio sort of blames the whole thing on Atalo somehow, since the people forgot that Ariadne is the only one who can pull true Chosen into the world, mostly to save face.
Astrid and Thor do end up joining with Atalo for a little bit, because he’s trying to be sympathetic to her as well, but their goals aren’t really the same. She does prove to be a major threat to the group because she DOES have the power of a Chosen, although they’re sort of weak.
Her real name is Katelyn Davis, and she’s pretty much the opposite of the other Chosen. She’s a complete social butterfly, the sort to think the world revolves around her. She’s not happy unless she’s around people, whereas the other Chosen are pretty much introverted and would prefer to keep to themselves.
Her Guide’s name is Thor (I keep calling him that in my head, I think because of Frejya being named after a god), and he is, in fact, a true Guide. It’s just that he’s not a very good one, nor is he a good person. He’s a bandit and delights in the misfortunes of others. The other Guides avoided him at all costs, and wasn’t sure why he was chosen to be a Guide. He goes off with Astrid after they kick him out of the group when Freyja chooses Nannin over him. (The two of them became close in the month Frejya was stuck there on her own, so of course she’d want to have her stay with her.)
The last picture was just me giving them their original hair colors just for the hell of it, and now I’m torn. >.< Because I like these as well. I mean, I like the idea of the colored hair being how you can tell they’re the Chosen, BUT I also, you know, like the original colors BECAUSE they are the original colors. >.<
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chp. 1: Whatever, hi
A/N: Here’s chapter 1! Let me know if I made any mistakes, I am super new to this! <3
Masterlist • Next
As you pull up to the historic university, you can’t help but gawk at the architecture and greenery surrounding it. Sure, you had visited her before on tours when deciding which university to attend, but you will never get over the beauty of the campus. You pull your car into the parking lot designated for students moving in and turn it off, draping the lanyard for your keys over the back of your neck to make sure you didn’t lose them. Before you even think about unloading anything from your car, you text your soon to be roommate, Mina.
Hey, I just pulled up! Are you here yet?
You shove the phone in the pocket of your shorts immediately as you get out of the car, grabbing your backpack from the passenger seat. You get the bag situated on your shoulders and peer over towards your new dorm building. It was four stories tall and extremely wide, meant to house quite a number of the upperclassmen on campus. You sighed in relief knowing that you wouldn’t have to deal with 18 year olds who were being let loose for the first time in their lives. But you also sighed in annoyance remembering the dorm is co-op and you may have to deal with boisterous boys at all hours of the night. This should be interesting…
As you get lost in thought, still staring at the dorm and consequently the huge crowd of people forming in front of it, a buzz goes off in your pocket. You reach down and pull it out to see a response from Mina.
Yeah I’m here!!!! There’s so many people! I’ll meet you at your car what does it look like??? Where are you parked???
After giving her a detailed description of your location and car, you lean against the back of it, observing the crowd. You notice there are a few other people hanging back, not wanting to get involved in the frenzy. So many people were so eager to move in all their belongings, but you just wanted to relax. After the two hour drive there, it felt good to just stand. But you wouldn’t be standing for long… Without warning, you’re tackled from the side and nearly fall to the ground, but you steady yourself with your sturdy car. Now draped over you is a pink haired and pink bodied girl in a similar outfit to yours, a black tank top with jean shorts. You recognize her from the selfies you’d sent back and forth.
“Mina! You can’t kill me yet, we haven’t even moved in!” You laugh in feigned annoyance as you embrace her back. Though this is your first time meeting in person, the two of you had bonded a lot over text. She basically told you her entire life story, but it was all too much to digest. The most important details were that she was from Japan and came to the university with some friends from high school in a prestigious exchange student program. Apparently, she and her friends all excelled in different aspects of STEM fields and had worked on a large project together back in high school that earned them country-wide recognition. After she told you about all that, she wanted to add you into her group chat with her friends, but you declined, saying you’d rather meet them in person with her. She had responded to this with an “awww,” saying you were so sentimental and thoughtful. You were basically under the impression that she never has a negative thought at any moment of the day.
After a few moments of squeezing the life out of you, Mina let’s go and excitedly starts talking. “I can’t believe I’m finally meeting you! And you’re even more adorable in person! And look! We have the same style, even!” She gestures to your basically matching outfits.
You blush at her rushed compliment as you respond, “Normally I prefer leggings, but I didn’t want to be dying of heat stroke and drenched in sweat while we move our stuff in! Speaking of, where’s all your stuff?”
She points in a direction, and you follow her finger to a group of cars quite a ways out in the parking lot. There are five total cars all parked next to each other, with four people standing with them, the trunks of the cars open.
“Oh, are those your friends?”
“You bet’cha! Come on! Come meet them!” She starts to pull you by the hand with all the might she can muster. You follow along, letting her drag you to the group. As you get closer, you can see that all of her friends are boys, with three of them standing while one sits on the tailgate of a truck. Mina yells out to them, “Hey, guys! This is her! This is Y/N!”
Three of the boys wave, waiting till you get closer to actually say anything. Meanwhile the fourth one just glances at you, keeping one hand in his pocket while his other hand holds his phone, an earbud resting in one ear. Finally, Mina stops right in front of them and you come to a halt beside her, trying to catch your breath.
As you wait to breathe normally, Mina speaks for you, “Everyone, this is my new roommate!” She presents you to them with enthusiasm, so much so that you almost feel like you’re supposed to be putting on some sort of show.
You nervously lift a hand to wave to them and say, “Hey, guys! I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet all of you! Mina told me a lot about you guys!” You can recognize their faces from pictures Mina sent of all of them together, but you were having a hard time remembering the names. You rub the back of your neck in embarrassment. “Sorry, but I didn’t learn your names from the pictures she sent very well!”
“Don’t worry about it!” A boy with spiked red hair pipes up. He scoots himself off the tailgate of the truck and walks straight up to you. He holds a hand out for you to shake as he says, “I’m Kirishima! But since we’re in America, you can call me by my first name Eijiro!”
His positive vibes rival Mina’s! You think to yourself. You take his hand and shake it enthusiastically. Before you can say anything, a boy with black hair steps up as well.
“And I’m Hanta! It’s nice t-.” Before he can finish, he’s lightly shoved by a golden blond boy.
The boy points to himself with a thumbs up as he says, “Denki Kaminari! Y’know, Mina never mentioned how cute you are!” He leans in closer, as if to get a better look. You shrink back a little bit at having your personal space invaded.
Mina speaks up for you once again. “I never mentioned it cause I didn’t want you bein’ creepy! Cut it out before you scare her and she never talks to me again!”
You giggle at Mina’s overdramatic nature. If there was one thing you were sure about, it was that you and Mina would get along very well as roommates. But as you surveyed the new friends standing in front of you, you noticed someone was missing. You look over Hanta’s shoulder to see the boy with ash blond spiky hair still has one hand in his pocket and is acting like you don’t exist.
Eijiro notices your gaze and follows it. “Oi, get over here Bakubro, stop being such a downer!”
The boy responds in an angry growl, “Don’t call me that, Shitty Hair.” Though his voice is angry, he doesn’t even look up from his phone.
Eijiro crosses his arms at him. “Dude, come on, you know you’re being an asshole. Just say hi.”
He sighs and finally tears his eyes away from his screen, locking eyes with you. “Whatever, hi, name’s Bakugo.” His eyes instantly move back to his phone. “There, happy?”
You move your hand to cover your mouth a bit to whisper to Mina, “Is he like this all the time?”
Mina basically deflates at this question as she answers, “Everyday since the first day of high school… It grows on you…”
You seriously doubt that, but you take her word for it. You’re broken out of your thoughts as Bakugo speaks up with annoyance, “Are we gonna check in or what?”
You look behind you to see that at this point the check in area is much less crowded. “Yeah, it looks a lot less chaotic now!” You turn over to Mina once again. “So, um… Do we grab our stuff right now or do we grab it later?” You feel stupid asking that question, but you’ve never moved into a dorm before. Before today, you’d always lived at home with your family.
The boys stare at you a little dumbfounded. But out of all the people to speak up, it’s the one that you deem the resident asshole. “Aren’t you a third-year? Haven’t you done this shit before?”
You look down at the asphalt in front of your feet as you explain, “I am, but I just transferred here from another school that doesn’t have dorms, so this is all new to me… Sorry if my stupidness gets in your way.”
You’re instantly met with different phrases of reassurance, all of them melding together so you couldn’t decipher a single one. The only one to not provide reassurance is Bakugo… How the hell are all these positive people friends with him?
“Jeez, Mina, did you pack a damn dumbbell in here? The box is heavier than all hell!” You strain out through your teeth.
She strains to speak as well as she jokes, “Haha! Kiri would be the one packing dumbbells! But no, all of this is - is makeup!” She grunts as the two of you set the box down finally in the center of your shared dorm room. You have to admit that it is much larger than you expected. You each have a full size bed and full sized dresser and desk, all supplied by the university. All you were really expecting was a twin sized bed with little to no closet space. This was more than a pleasant surprise.
You and Mina had worked together to get all of your stuff up to your second floor dorm. Unfortunately, the building didn’t have an elevator. You really didn’t envy those living on the fourth floor. With the last box finally set in the room you step back outside the door to observe your new home. You look to the side of the door to see “Room 226” on a plaque above a whiteboard meant for you and Mina to draw on as you pleased. You were lucky to get a corner room, so you would only have one neighbor. But, lucky you, that neighbor happened to be an asshole.
As you stood there marvelling, a gruff voice took you out of your trance. “What’s with the dumbass look, extra?”
You don’t even have to look to know who it is. Instead, you cross your arms and respond, “What does it take for you to not be an ass?”
Mina looks up from her unpacking to see you standing in the doorway and you listen to her desperate attempt to get you out of his line of fire. “Hey! Y/N, come help me figure out how to organize all this!”
You clench your jaw before making any other move. As you start to walk back into your dorm, you glance at Bakugo to find that he’s glistening in sweat from carrying his belongings up and down stairs in the heat. You only see his face for half a second, but you almost think you see amusement in his grin. How the hell am I supposed to stand living next to a smug asshole like him? Finally inside, you shut the door behind you with a loud slam.
“How in the hell are you friends with that gremlin?!”
Mina obviously tries to hold in a laugh, but fails miserably as she erupts into laughter. You look on in confusion, trying to wrap your head around why this is so funny. Eventually, her laughs subside a bit to answer you.
“I’m sorry, it’s just that normally when people meet him they just avoid him instead of calling him out. He’s pretty rough around the edges, but he’s a good friend.” She starts to organize her makeup onto a shelf as she continues on. “Honestly, the rest of us are pretty eccentric and make a lot of bad decisions. Bakugo is the one to chew us out when we fuck up and set us on the right track.”
You start to rummage through your own belongings, hanging up some shirts in the closet. “Well if you ask me, he doesn’t have to be an asshole about everything. I knew him for all of five seconds and he was a dick!”
Mina giggles at your words, finishing up her display of makeup. “To be honest, so far he’s been pretty tame. You should have seen the guy back in high school. Hell, even last semester he was worse! Maybe something happened over summer to mellow him out.” She reaches for another box of her belongings as you finish up putting all your clothes in the closet and dresser.
You reach for your own box and find it’s the one containing your sheets and comforter for your new bed. As you uncrumple the fitted sheet and turn to the bed, you realize something pretty significant.
“Oh crap, I might have to share a wall with him… Ugh, whatever.”
“I can always switch with you if you like?” Mina suggests.
“It’s fine, I can deal with it.” You fit your fitted sheet to the bed and throw your regular sheet on top of it, smoothing it out. “Besides, maybe I can subtly annoy him if he happens to share the wall. I don’t mind being petty.”
After going back and forth between boxes and in-dorm storage for an hour or two, you and Mina had completed your move in. You both sit carefully deconstructing the boxes for your eventual move out of the dorms. Might as well save the boxes to save the trouble later! With the last boxes folded and tucked underneath your beds, you both step back to the doorway to observe the now decorated room. Luckily, this dorm building allows things to be mounted to the wall.
You are more than impressed. “I still can’t believe the dorm is this big! Are all the dorm buildings like this?”
“Most of them are a lot smaller, but upperclassmen are given bigger spaces. With all this room for activities, we could have huge sleepovers!” Mina reaches her arms up towards the ceiling in excitement as her smile beams.
Just as Mina let her arms down, a knock comes at the door behind you, making you jump a bit in surprise. Mina opens it immediately and comes to face Eijiro. His smile is so big that it matches Mina’s almost exactly.
“Hey girls! We’re gonna go grab some of the free food they have over in the quad, you wanna come?”
Even though you didn’t think it was possible, Mina’s smile grows even bigger. “Hell yeah, perfect timing! We just finished up here! Come on, Y/N!”
You swiftly grab your keys from your desk and clip them onto your lanyard before walking out the door to join Mina and Eijiro in the hallway. As you do, you see he is also waiting in the hallway. You avoid eye contact with him, instead opting to keep your attention on Mina as you walk down the hall towards the stairs. But as your attention stays on her as you walk down the stairs, you feel eye burning holes in the back of your head. You ignore it for now, knowing that Bakugo is trying to get under your skin. Instead of looking back, you allow your pettiness to show.
“I can’t believe how fun today already is, Mina! All of your friends have been so nice to me! Well, almost all of them!” You make sure your voice is projecting enough for Bakugo to hear.
It sounds like you succeeded as you hear a soft, “Tch,” comes from behind you. But another sound catches your attention.
Eijiro starts laughing uncontrollably at the comment, tears clouding his eyesight. He starts to stumble on the steps, unable to fully see where he is. He looks back at Bakugo and says, “She’s calling you out, bro! That’s rare!”
“Shut the hell up, Shitty Hair. Like I give a shit.” He continues walking down the steps past everyone. As he steps past you, the space is tight so he has to brush against you. The skin of his arm is warm, but no longer sweaty from moving in like it was earlier. You also notice the rippling muscle under the warm skin, his form fitting tank top leaving them completely exposed. You scold yourself in your head. Why do the assholes have to be so hot?
You continue after him with Eijiro finally catching his breath and recovering his eyesight. Mina grabs your arm and loops her own through it. “Damn, you really don’t mind petty! I must admit, it’s funny to see someone get Bakugo pissed off like that. And the best part is that he’s stuck with you since you’re our friend!”
You laugh at her point, countering it with, “Well, if he kills me one of these days, he won’t be stuck with me anymore!”
Bakugo continues walking, reaching the bottom of the stairs, as he mumbles back just loud enough for you to hear, “Don’t push your luck, dumbass.”
With a plate of free pizza in hand, you walk towards a nearby empty table. The tables are all round and have a white tablecloth on them. As you sit down, Mina sits on your other side, filling up another one of the 6 chairs around the table. Then next to her is Eijiro… then Denki… and Hanta… until there is just one seat left next to you. Bakugo sits down without hesitation with a plate of grilled chicken and a salad. As you look around, you notice everyone else has followed your lead and gotten pizza. Bakugo notices this too, it seems.
“What the hell are you doing eating that crap?” he says to no one in particular.
Eijiro is the first to answer. “Come on man, you know I’m a health nut, but I can’t turn down pizza!”
Next to you, you hear a, “Tch,” no doubt that it is once again Bakugo. “Health nut my ass, you’ve never even touched a stove to make your own food.”
“That’s a great idea!” Mina yells immediately as she stands from her seat, hands planted on the table. “We should all cook our food together! It’ll be so much fun!”
Once again, Mina’s enthusiasm triumphs over all.
Hanta speaks up to add to Mina’s vague plan. “It’ll be cheaper too. Might as well!”
Everyone nods in agreement, mouths full of their food. Except Bakugo. He just keeps eating with no response towards your friend. How apathetic can one person be?
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ID: A grid with boxes labelled for each of the 12 months, with a drawing from that month in each of the boxes.
I feel like I have to add an addendum for this year because obviously, everyone's lives changed drastically and that affects the mood of the art and the artist. I got the "lack of time and motivation" end of the stick, and while I sometimes tend toward self-deprecation for this, and it's weird to see my art sort of "regress" (less fancy lighting, ambitious poses, etc.), so I'm going to take a moment to be proud of the fact that I've learned how bodies work in space better, how to more seamlessly slot two people in a picture again as opposed to it being out of place, I've gotten better at working on the head from different perspectives and action shots, and most of all, I'm still growing, despite all of this.
Thoughts about individual months under the cut:
January: I realized that, even though I branded myself with clone content originally, it'd been a while since I...drew any of the clones. I decided to change that for a short burst in January, and this is probably my favorite of the bunch: I love the vibes, tension, and me adding a highlight for the hell of it (even if the light source is a bit inconsistent).
February: I drew a lot this month but I figured I'd be remiss if I didn't put at least one rwby-related piece in here. I think this is the best Penny I've drawn, but still need to work on Ruby. Either way, Nuts and Dolts won this year!
March: Bar none the piece I'm the most proud of this year—I worked with a pretty intense pink palette and the fun of working that into the usually black armor as well as the background. Also, the slightly tilted up perspective was a beast, and I had to trace and then reference my own tracing in order to create something that was still consistent with my style, but I did it! I think this was the transition into what I wanted the trajectory to be for this year, and in a way, I sort of kept that going with realizing how limbs work in a space. Also, create the obscure inquisitor content you want to see in this world.
April: I finally settled on a face for Eighth that I really enjoy, and also I came into my own with the beginnings of digital painting. Also, more highlights for the hell of it, which I love and will continue to incorporate into as much as I can.
May: I did a few fun couple shots in May, but this one was my favorite because during this and April, I learned that I could do backgrounds without putting maximum effort into it but still add depth and interest to a space.
June: I did neekaz at sunrise so tamnara at sunset felt appropriate. I got to expand on their character design and am finally starting to get better at making people organically fit together. Also, the easter egg in the image is that Synara's wearing Tam's bandana around her leg, and Tam's wearing Synara's necklace.
July: I wasn't initially super proud of this when I first drew it, but audience reception helped me realize it was a step for me—once again going with the theme of having fun with lighting and relying on the lightsabers to cast light for the image. Also, create the content for obscure inquisitor duos you want to see in the world.
August: Even though I'm not as into it anymore, I feel like these would feel naked without some sort of ags material on the list, so I decided to have Alex and Zee live out my fantasy of waking up next to your partner/best friend in a tent and enjoying the sunrise together.
September: This month started the mother of all art block which has lasted up until this point, and also w*rk got really busy. Either way, I did make something I was proud of this month, for Voe Starwars who absolutely deserves both the world and more canon material. I like the sense of dynamic movement and the actually doing a simple background with markers! This is also probably one of my favorites from the year.
October: This was also...something. I redrew an old piece because my motivation was at a low, but I ended up enjoying both it and the noise filter which I applied on top. My cycle this month though was pretty much I came home and slept though, so honestly? Still proud.
November: Once again was barely able to muster the motivation to draw, so this is an art ask game, but I love the simplicity of duo-toned markers to color something. It makes it feel more polished than it is.
December: I drew all of one finished thing this month. Granted, it was 23 whole characters in different positions, lined and colored in so I'm proud of that! I mostly drew this just so I could get out some concepts which all deserved their fully-finished glory, but I didn't dredge up the wherewithal to do, so I at least did something.
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[QZGS meta] what’s in an OP? dawning glory (pt 3)
(part 1) (part 2)
This is the third and last post in my little series analyzing the opening theme of The King’s Avatar Season 2! Honestly, this whole thing became way longer than I was expecting. I guess this is what happens when all my immense amount of love for this series, accumulated over years of no-donghua-updates, overlaps with my immense amount of love for anime openings.
Watched the first and second episodes yesterday, and they really sparked a lot of joy. :D I missed Blue River so much :D
Yesterday, they released the OST for Season 2, which includes the TV cut and full versions of the OP and ED, as well as two insert songs, and the instrumental versions of all of the above. I’ve yet to find anywhere that lets me download the audio files (hoping they’ll be reuploaded to youtube or bilibili soon), but in the meantime you can listen here. They’re really good songs!
https: //www. kuwo. cn/album_detail/15792659
Anyway, let’s finish up this OP analysis!
Now here, we reach the true climax as we enter the chorus section. This next segment is definitely the highest-energy part of the entire opening. It’s a montage of Happy’s characters showing off their moves, timed to the music; there’s not too much deeper meaning, but damn if it doesn’t look fantastic. The animation flows from one character and scene to the next so smoothly, so beautifully, it’s just incredibly hype to see. This is what you get when you specifically choreograph/animate sequences for the opening instead of just reusing shots from the main show! (Parts of some of these shots appeared in episode 1, but I do honestly think that it’s more likely that the show reused shots from the opening than the other way around, just because of how perfectly the OP fits together. I also don’t think it’s super noticeable in-show; I’ve just been watching this obsessively.)
In particular I love the line that kicks this all off: “just put on your battle armor and step onto the road to the unknown.” Specifically, though, the rhythm of the lyric is, “jiu pi shang zhan jia ta shang wei zhi qian fang,” with emphasizing accents on the -ang sounds. This isn’t how you would divide the phrase naturally, but because the (syncopated!!) melody accents these notes/syllables, the rhyming effect really stands out and it feels as clever and satisfying as a rap lyric. Moreover, the emphasis times juuust right with the attacks of Soft Mist, Steamed Bun Invasion, and Windward Formation, a perfect example of how music and visuals mutually reinforce each other for maximum cool effect.
It’s generally easier to rhyme in Chinese than English, because of a smaller phonetic vocabulary. From the chorus onward, the key rhyme is on the “-ang” sound (think “ahng” or “ong”, not “aang” like the Avatar), which is a good choice - powerful, reverberant. The asymmetry of the syllable’s use in this section - the song’s lines are all different lengths at this part, so you’re kept on your toes as to when the pattern will reappear - helps add to the engaging excitement of the song. This is also the syllable used for most of the rhymes in the second half of the first OP.
jiu pi shang zhan jia ta shang wei zhi qian fang
hui qi shou zhong wo jin de na shu guang
you ni men zai lu shang__
shi li liang
I really love One Inch Ash’s design. Concealed Light had a big redesign for this season, and honestly I like it as well. And notice here that he’s holding a book - exactly how we left Luo Ji when we saw him last!
“Waving the light clenched tightly in our hand” - that is to say, brandishing our light as our weapon, no matter what form it may take - a sword, a book, our hope and determination.
On a purely musical note (ha), right at this point, specifically the measure beginning with “那束光,” you can hear a three-note “ooo” harmony line in the background, and wow it’s so subtle but I love it so much! A similar three-note line actually appears earlier too (during the “crossing the frozen finish line,” right as the music is building up), also to great effect.
We follow Concealed Light’s gaze upward to the building to see Deception running along the wall, from which he does a flip and slashes downward with twin blades. I love that transition a lot, but my favorite transition of this entire sequence has to be the following one:
Yes! Deception’s cross slash resolves perfectly into the cross held by Little Cold Hands. It’s so fast and so natural you don’t even notice it, and that’s the absolute beauty of it. The first time I saw this, I was in awe - the animators really brought their A-game to this, far better than I ever would have dared hope for this series.
And Little Cold Hands is so pretty! When we got our first art of her official design, the comments were filled with people simping for her, and honestly, valid. I’m surprised her hair is purple instead of pink, but that’s just a minor thing.
There’s something especially powerful about how she raises her cross in time with the lyric “having you all here [with me] on this road,” and then the cross flashing brilliantly with “it’s power.” More than any other role, the healer is a team player. And this theme of team togetherness is particularly important for An Wenyi, who is deeply moved by the team’s perhaps illogical faith in him. Remember that analogy Ye Xiu tells him, of the straw tied to the deluxe mitten crab?
An aside: listening to this, I always thought the line should be 有你们在身旁 instead of 有你们在路上, because it still fits the rhyme, because my past experience has somewhat conditioned me to expect that phrase, and because the full message of “having you by my side is power” just makes me wanna tear up like what a good line! So it felt like a missed opportunity that they didn’t use that. But as it turns out, the final iteration of this chorus in the full version of the OP does, in fact, use “by my side”! And I think making this tiny tweak to the lyric the final time you here it just makes it that much stronger :’)
I’m also just a big fan of the “it’s power” melodic flourish in general, since it comes as a surprise. You kind of expect the melody to end with the previous phrase, but the extra notes here add a really nice emphatic beat to finish off the line.
So to recap the transitions: we see Soft Mist falling from the sky and get a close up of her face as she stabs her spear; this takes us to a closeup of Steamed Bun’s face facing roughly the same direction before we zoom out to his torso and he slashes from lower left of the screen to upper right; following the motion of that slash we see Windward Formation’s torso rotate in that direction as the camera zooms out farther; we follow the rays of his attack to see One Inch Ash drawing his sword; we zoom in on the flashing blade and zoom out on Concealed Light’s glowing book; we follow his gaze upward to see Deception running along the building behind him; Deception leaps and slashes and the slash becomes Little Cold Hands’ cross, which raises up and triggers an explosion. It’s just so dynamic and smooth even without taking place in one continuous setting, and it just really, really gets you hyped.
Also, starting from Happy’s team picture at the start of the chorus, which is during the day, it feels like Soft Mist and Steamed Bun’s moves are at late afternoon, Windward Formation and One Inch Ash take us to nighttime, and then you can see the first rays of morning in Concealed Light and Deception’s segments. This continuity also definitely helps with the feeling of natural flow through these scenes.
Anyway, this entire action segment is just so beautiful, I could watch it on loop. But we still have the final segment of this OP to analyze, so let’s keep going.
After the action sequences of the climax, we settle down a bit now as we approach the end. Here we see the Excellent Era team picture, in the same style as the team pics we saw earlier, but presented separately. It makes sense, as the role they play in the story is different from the roles of all the other teams.
Sun Xiang, Liu Hao, and Cui Li are at the bottom. Because we’re panning up, these three are the first we see. At first glance, the way they’re positioned is fairly consistent with the team pics we’ve seen already: Captain Sun Xiang at center-right, the largest figure; vice-captain Liu Hao, manager Cui Li in the background.
Sun Xiang’s position and expression is really the only one that fits the healthy pattern of the teams we’ve seen already - looking toward the camera, a confident (though arrogant) smile. He might be misguided, but there’s hope for him yet. Notice how Liu Hao isn’t even looking at the camera, which as we’ve seen before is somewhat of an indication of how unified and focused the team is toward its goal; instead, Liu Hao is doing his own thing, determined to prioritize his own desires over what’s best for the team. And manager Cui Li is in this image too, despite not even being a player. His sinister presence reflects the unhealthy interference of the business side in the gaming side. Excellent Era’s downfall comes about because of its prioritization of profit over victory.
As we pan up, Excellent Era’s logo comes into view. It’s larger than any of the other team logos we’ve seen so far, spanning around three-quarters of the screen whereas the others looked to span no more than half. Excellent Era’s legacy is a weighty one, to date the only team to have ever won three championships, and consecutively to boot.
It’s this immense, shining logo that seems to be casting Tao Xuan on the left into shadow. He cuts a large figure, reflecting the deep impact his actions have had upon the main plot of this story, even though he’s only now appearing for the first time in the donghua.
However, he’s also turned away from the camera, such that we can barely even see his closed eye. Because of that, it’s difficult to read his expression, but the impression given by this pose is not one of vindictive pride, but one of shame, as though he can’t quite bear to face what he’s done. On some level, no matter how he might try to rationalize it as necessary, Tao Xuan knows that his profit-driven betrayal of Ye Xiu was a pretty awful thing to do. It might be this amount of guilt that leads him to offer Ye Xiu a wish granted, a tribute to their years of friendship and partnership before their ties are severed completely.
In the end, Tao Xuan’s greed leaves him with nothing really to show for it. What had he gained? What had he lost? Those realizations are still a ways off in the story, but I like how this OP is already hinting at the depth of his character. Tao Xuan isn’t some glasses-flashing, evil-laughing, one-dimensional antagonist; he is in fact very realistic for the setting. We can condemn his actions and priorities, but at the same time we can understand how he ended up here.
As for Su Mucheng, her eyes are closed as well. She’s brightly illuminated, but pointedly turned away from all of the others in Excellent Era; she knows the direction of her future, and that it no longer lies with Excellent Era. Her loyalty was always to Ye Xiu, and as soon as he was banished, her relationship to the team was professional and nothing more.
“This light hidden in my heart is burning” - there are many ways to read this lyric and what exactly the light referenced here is, but because the line is paired with this image, I naturally think about Su Mucheng’s situation. Despite her pretty-vase, sweet-girl appearance, she holds a deep, profound anger at everything that happened regarding Excellent Era. It’s a testament to her immense strength of character that she lasted the remaining one and a half years of her contract in this hostile environment.
Yet even as she resolves to cut ties, there’s a sadness in her expression. She was here from the very beginning as well, when Excellent Era was no more than an internet cafe, and it pains her immensely that the powerhouse, championship team that they and her brother had built from the ground up would ultimately meet this tragic end.
It’s interesting to note that both of the “redeemable” characters here (namely Su Mucheng and Sun Xiang) are on the right, more brightly-lit side of the screen, so there’s a nice little dividing line you can draw there. Sun Xiang’s eyes are still looking toward the left, though, revealing how his character development still has yet to play out.
From there we cut to Ye Xiu holding Lord Grim’s account card. He’s standing back on top of the roof from the beginning of the OP, now in full daylight.
As mentioned… the animators really went ham on the bangs animation.
Ye Xiu turns away from the railing, the camera cuts to an image of Happy’s logo on a flag waving in the wind, and then we zoom out to see the current members of Team Happy gathered together in uniform, standing proud in the light of day. Left to right, Steamed Bun, Tang Rou, Luo Ji, Ye Xiu, An Wenyi, Wei Chen, Chen Guo. Presumably, this will be Happy’s lineup by the end of the season.
Up until now, we’ve only seen the real players separate from each other - they’ve all been in different places, never even in the same frame together. (This, of course, also contrasts the pro team pics that we have, which show everyone together.) Halfway through the OP, we got the group shot of them meeting in game with their characters. And now, they’ve finally met up in the real world as well.
One thing I like about this final pose is how it compares to the final pose of the OVA OP. It’s the same kind of power-pose vibe, but there we only had Ye Xiu, Chen Guo, and Tang Rou. Look at how we’ve grown since then! They’re well on their way to being a proper pro team!
And that’s a wrap! With this final image of Team Happy gathered together, we’re ready to enter the episode proper.
So let’s talk about the OP as a whole. Generally, an OP serves a couple of main roles: a) tells you a bit about what the show is about, b) gives you an overall feeling / mood for the show, c) gets you hyped and ready to watch the upcoming episode.
How well does this opening achieve those goals? Pretty well, as we’ve seen. Past OPs did a pretty good job of setting the mood, but they honestly just put some pretty visuals on the screen, only vaguely aligned to the music, and called it a day. This OP, however, has a cohesive storyline to tell, framed around Team Happy’s coming together (following the tagline of this season). Even in such a short span of time, it manages to convey so much information about its story and characters, both overt and implicit (as I hope this series of posts has managed to convince you). Paired with the music, which has its own deeper meanings encoded in the lyrics, the OP becomes incredibly effective and memorable as it makes its statement.
I mentioned an “interest curve” earlier (interest in the sense of interesting, not the money); this is part of the standard formula for anime opening songs, in my experience. I’m a little too lazy to draw a graph myself, so take a look at this image:
(source: https: //www. researchgate. net/figure/Example-of-an-interest-curve-for-a-successful-entertainment-experience_fig1_333917625 )
Although not all of the relative heights and segment lengths are accurate in this specific case, hopefully the general shape of the interest curve is enough to demonstrate my point. You’ve got the A-B peak at the opening instrumental segment, the C-D peak/arc over verse 1, the D-E-F peak/arc over verse 2, then the sharp F-G-H peak over the chorus before dropping off for a smooth landing right into the episode. This general pattern is effective at holding the viewer’s focus and managing their excitement over the course of this one and a half minutes.
Visually, the OP is just such a treat for the eyes. I’ve already talked about many of the little details I love - lighting, character designs, animations, transitions, etc. - but all in all the new animation studio is doing a really good job here. An OP is how you hook people, and I’d definitely feel comfortable using this to try and bait people into watching this show.
One comment I want to add is about the incorporation of the credits, which we didn’t see until the episode premiere. I don’t think there’s anything too exciting to say (and I also don’t have access to any images right now since the OP was only shown in episode 2), but the fonts and styling were a nice choice - it gave a gaming vibe, but if I recall it still used a serif font, so it didn’t feel overly modern - and the text positioning generally complements instead of distracting. I also liked how they showed the lyrics! I didn’t really expect them to include them onscreen, or if they did, I thought they would just be plain subs like they were in this video. But in the actual OP that plays at the beginning of the episode, they’re as much a part of the art as the credits!
If I had to make any criticism, my biggest complaint about the OP is, I think, the singers. I think having two different singers trade off can work nicely, but in this case, the switches are jarring because their voices are so different. The first singer has a lower, gravely voice, while the second singer’s voice sounds much brighter and more nasally. Furthermore, the first switch doesn’t come until we’re fully halfway through the song, which means that by that point we’re already used to this first singer. It’s also strange that they’d switch back to the first voice at the climax of the song, when I think the second voice would suit the high-energy segment much better. Switching from second to first right at this point feels like we’re actually taking a step down in energy, which is the opposite of what should be happening here.
Still, my main problem isn’t with the voice switching but with the voices themselves, and I think the voices are something I could get used to. The third switch, going from the first voice back to the second voice during the shot of Excellent Era, is much less jarring than the others - I actually like how it feels like the solo is passing naturally from one person to the next, emphasizing the ideals of this not being a single-player game and all that. For that transition in particular, I think (because of the added “it’s power” flourish) it happens too quickly for one person to sing it comfortably, so having another person pick up the line works best. And I do like how the voices sound when they overlay together for the final lines of the song.
So, overall? Overall, this OP is really damn good. It’s everything I could have asked for and more. After such a long wait, the OP, at least, does not disappoint, and I’m extremely excited to see what the series has in store for us.
If you’ve read to this point, thank you! I like this series a lot, as you can probably see, and I’m treating it as my glory :)
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Heartbroken
All fixed! Thank you to everyone who has read and left encouraging words, they’re really helping! Hope everyone likes the direction of the story. My goal is just to write about how I wish to find happiness one day and just projecting my thoughts out there! Let me know what you think!
Part 1 / Part 2 /
Sakura hadn’t felt this awake in a while. She was excited about starting her new kickboxing class today with Temari and Hinata. Last night was non-stop laughing between the three of them. Sakura was finally starting to get back her appetite. For the months since the breakup, her eating habits were all over the place. One minute she feels so sick she could barely eat, the next she is scarfing down food as if her life depended on it. Last night was good for her. She felt closer to Temari even though they had just met, but she felt a true genuine feeling about her.
Things were feeling okay. Sakura got up at 8 AM to get ready for her new class. They had to get there early to fill out some forms and pay for their class. The gym was pretty close to where Sakura worked, so if she liked it enough she could go right after and not have to go home first. That was the hard part for Sakura if she went home she would never leave her house.
Today she wore her favorite maroon workout pants, a white t-shirt with a little cartoon cactus on it, and her usual black running shoes. Sakura looked in her mirror in her room and decided to put up her hair. Normally she liked to keep her pink hair down, but now that it was almost touching her shoulders she could make a real ponytail. She thought back to when she was much younger and had long beautiful hair. Sakura missed braiding her hair, it felt like forever. It made her feel soft and delicate, but she hadn’t felt like that in a while.
Clearing her mind she looked at the time and she was ready to go. Sakura already felt her adrenaline rising as she quickly drove to the gym. When she pulled up it was a simple brick building. The gym’s name was simply called Power. A bit intimidating, but Sakura did want to get strong. Figuring Hinata and Temari would pull up any second she decided to go inside to get started on the paperwork.
Walking into the gym, Sakura did not expect the design to be the way it was. The front desk was very clean and organized with all silver detailing matching the equipment behind the desk. Being early on a Saturday morning Sakura expected the place to be bustling with grunting men and women pumping iron to their heart’s content. Instead, it was just a handful of people just calmly going about their routines. They weren’t super muscly like everyone thinks a typical gym has, but just average people. That made Sakura feel better.
Nowhere in sight was any punching bags. There were two doors next to each other in the very back, and two doors side by side on her left. Maybe locker rooms? Surprisingly enough it was a very calm atmosphere. This completely relaxed Sakura of any lingering fear that she had in the back of her mind. The front desk attendant smiled at her kindly and welcomed her in.
“Hello! My name is Tenten. Welcome to Power. Are you here to join one of our classes?” she said still continuing to smile. Tenten clearly used the privileges of her job, because she was fit. She had deep brown eyes and dark brown hair styled as two buns sitting on her head, a style Sakura always wanted to try but could never pull off. Maybe she was teaching the women’s class, Sakura wouldn’t mind working with her.
“Yes, I’m here to sign up for the kickboxing class with my friends,” Sakura said offering a smile of her own.
“Great here are the forms while you wait for them!” Tenten said reaching under the counter to grab a printed out form. Sakura thanked her and sat down at a small table in the front to fill out her information. If Sakura had been paying attention she might have noticed Tenten taking out her phone to snap a quick picture of her and start frantically texting on her phone to her work group-chat.
Tenten: Hey Gaara, is this the girl your sister was telling me about last night??
Gaara: I have no idea why Temari is making such a big deal out of this, but yeah that must be her. How many girls have pink hair like that?
Tenten: She’s pretty cute! You better get down here pretty fast, I think I hear Lee coming…
Gaara: What does that have to do with anything?
Neji: That must be the girl who Lee wouldn’t shut up about for weeks. He was introduced to her by Naruto.
Lee: Don’t let her leave!! I’ll be there in 10 minutes!!!
Gaara: I’ll be down in five.
Tenten snickered to herself. Finally some workplace drama! She totally remembered this was the girl that Lee was obsessed with for a while. She heard Sakura turned him down nicely and was kind enough to listen to his crazy ramblings for one whole night. Tenten thought it would be good for Gaara to start seeing someone. Maybe he wouldn’t be around the gym so much bossing them around. Thankfully Neji was level headed and ran the books for them, or the place would already be in the ground.
Normally girls would fall over any time they caught a glimpse of Gaara and he could not be bothered by them. And this girl who he seemed to barely know was getting him out of his apartment, very strange. Temari made it a point to say that Sakura didn’t even see Gaara’s face when they “met” so she had to watch her face very closely and report back to Temari. Hearing the door open Tenten was ready to see her redheaded boss, but instead, she saw a blur of green rush past her towards the table that Sakura was sitting at. She was too shocked to see that Gaara was coming in right behind it.
“Sakura!! It is so good to see you again! I am so glad that you have decided to join our gym! I am most looking forward to you improving your skills so you may join my advanced class! If you ever need any personal help…” a voice said right in her ear.
Sakura knew the voice immediately. She only knew one person who could give Naruto a run for his money for talking that fast and had no concept for personal space. She peeked up from her forms to see a bright smile attached to bushy dark eyebrows and an unfortunate bowl cut.
“Oh hi, Lee…” Sakura started with a weak smile, but before she had to continue the conversation a deep stern voice broke her train of thought.
“Alright Lee back off. Don’t go scaring the new recruits like that,” Gaara said as he made his way over. Sakura looked up to meet cool jade eyes somewhat like her own. This was Gaara. His eyes were what was drawing Sakura in, she couldn’t place where she had seen his eyes before since she had never seen his face before. His face was clear of any emotion, but the tone of his voice wasn’t harsh and he didn’t give off the vibe of being a gym buff. He really didn’t have any defining features except being very handsome, but as Sakura was searching his face she noticed a tattoo on the corner of his forehead. What a strange place for a tattoo, she thought to herself. Not wanting to be rude she gave Gaara a small smile of thanks as Lee slunk away behind the counter next to a snickering Tenten.
Gaara turned back to Sakura and asked, “Do you need anything before we start? I’m sorry my sister is running late, it’s her trademark.”
“No, I think I’m alright, I just need some gloves to borrow.”
“Alright you can follow me then,” he said as he started to walk towards the back of the gym. Sakura got up trying not to look at the smiling Lee that seemed to follow her every move. As they moved through the gym, she noticed that one of the doors led to the training room and the other was an office.
“Typically people bring their own gloves, but since I knew you guys were coming I brought some of my old gloves for you and Hinata. They’re pretty worn in so it shouldn’t feel too bad,” Gaara said to her as he was searching through a big duffle bag. “Here these look like a good fit for you.”
He handed her a well-worn pair of brown gloves. With Sakura having smaller hands she was surprised at how well they fit.
“How old are these gloves? You must have been a kid when you used these!” Sakura said gently hitting the gloves together. For a first impression and talking to a guy this good looking Sakura thought she was doing pretty well.
“Yeah, you’re actually right,” Gaara said with a small smile on his face. His face completely changed when he was smiling. Uh oh. Sakura could already feel her face heating up. Not what she needed. No crushes. Plus he was Temari’s brother! That made him off-limits right? But if she did think about it, wouldn’t it be better just to have a crush on Gaara and not do anything about it because she couldn’t?
You’re getting way too ahead of yourself as usual. Slow down you LITERALLY just met the guy. What if he’s a total jerk? Talking to herself always helped Sakura think and the voice in the back of her mind was usually right. But he went out of his way to bring old gloves for them when he didn’t have to.
As Sakura was thinking, really talking to herself, Gaara noticed the look of concentration on her face. He knew that look very well. He too would talk to himself in his mind and think no one was watching. No one had ever noticed before because he learned to control his face while he thought, but clearly, no one had told Sakura about this tip. She actually looked kinda cute while she was arguing with herself. That thought shocked Gaara. Normally he didn’t notice girls, especially one with pink hair and delicate looking. But who was he to judge a book by its cover? His whole life people did that to him and he promised himself he wouldn’t do it to others.
Before they knew it they were both staring at each other lost in their own thoughts. At the sound of the door opening to more students walking in did they look away. Neither one of them noticed the slight blush that was growing on each of their faces. Throwing it up to the room being too hot.
“I recommend a spot towards the middle in the second row. You’ll be able to see pretty well without having to be right in the front,” Gaara said turning to pick up his duffle bag.
“Thanks!” Sakura said with a real smile, it felt nice chatting with Gaara. It felt like progress being able to look at a guy and actually have a conversation. Maybe a little crush wouldn’t be so bad? But what if he already has a girlfriend? That nagging thought would be pushed into the back of her mind for now, “Would you happen to know who’s teaching the class?”
“Don’t worry it’s not Lee,” Gaara said with humor in his voice. That made Sakura look at him. He did give off the impression of being super stoic but in the few minutes of talking that didn’t seem to be the case.
“Not that he isn’t nice, I don’t think I’d be able to keep up with him,” Sakura said with a small chuckle.
“Don’t worry I’ll go easy on you guys since you’re new. Don’t want to scare you off too quickly,” Gaara said as he started to smirk. With that, he took his bag and walked to the front of the room, leaving Sakura shocked right where she stood.
XxX
Hinata and Temari eventually showed up and the class started. Gaara gave a small introduction to a group of about 10 people in the room. Not only had Gaara been boxing for most of his life, but he owned the gym! Sakura felt her jaw drop a bit when he mentioned that and she could hear Temari snickering next to her.
Gaara went over the basics for them and it was pretty simple, kicking and punching. Now just to do it a million times to create muscle memory to do it perfectly. Then increase your speed and make a routine out of it. Piece of cake. The class was only an hour and Sakura could not remember the last time she worked this hard. She could not perfect her moves in a single class. Her arms and legs were jello by the time they were finished. As they practiced Gaara walked around the small room to help everyone with their form.
He purposely told Sakura about the spot in the middle so that he could keep an eye on her progress without being too noticeable. Plus he knew Temari would have been mad if she was in the back of the room. Sakura was actually doing pretty well for just picking up a pair of gloves for the first time. She was a little stiff, but that was to be expected. He started to walk towards her punching bag.
“You’re swing is a little off. Try keeping your arm straight and pull it right back. Arching your arm is for a different day,” Gaara said after watching Sakura give a few punches.
She looked up, face flushed bright pink from the effort she was giving. He was happy to see she perked up at the sound of his voice. Lowering her arms and shaking them out, Sakura nodded at him and tried to do as he said. After a few swings, she turned to him with a bright smile on her face. She had a brilliant smile and her eyes were bright and alight compared to how she looked while she was going through his sketchbook. He returned her smile with a small one of his own.
“Alright everyone, that’s enough for today. Go take a walk to cool off. Sign up for another class if you’re interested. Thanks for coming,” Gaara called out dismissing the class. Everyone let out an exhausted sign with a few laughs.
Sakura sat down hard on the ground out of breath. She couldn’t remember ever being this tired, but she felt really good. She would definitely be signing up for more classes. Maybe Gaara would be teaching more classes…
“So what did you think?” Temari asked the two of them once they all caught their breath.
“That was amazing! If I didn’t think it would kill me I’d come every day!” Sakura said with a laugh.
“And would that have anything to do with the teacher?” Temari asked with a sly smile on her face. Sakura was surprised at the question, but Temari seemed to be the teasing type.
“Temari that’s your brother! Plus he probably has a girlfriend or something right?”
“Oh, so you’re interested hmm? Are stiff redheads your type Sakura? I can vouch for him he’s warm and fuzzy on the inside!!” At this point, Sakura was bright pink again from Temari’s teasing. And of course, Gaara chose this time to walk up to them.
“Temari are you being annoying again? Leave Sakura alone,” he reached out a hand to help Sakura up, “Just ignore her that’s what the rest of us do.” The simple gesture touched her.
“Oh haha, you’re so funny, brother,” Temari said while rolling her eyes, “Hey I know! Since it’s Saturday we should all go out tonight! C’mon, it’ll be fun. We can invite your whole crew! What do you guys say?”
Sakura was quiet at first waiting for someone else to respond, but it seemed everyone was looking at her to answer. Strange, normally she didn’t make the choices like this, but it kind of felt nice.
“I’m pretty exhausted so I’m not too sure how much fun I can handle, but there’s a bar by my house that is pretty relaxing and has a lot of seating!” Sakura suggested. Hinata and Temari seemed to be on board with the idea. Gaara was walking away, but Temari called out to him.
“Gaara you’re coming right?” He seemed to pause but turned to look at them. He seemed to be looking at each of them but lingered on Sakura to see what she would do. Sakura smiled, she wouldn’t mind if Gaara came, it would be a good chance to get to know him better.
“Fine I’ll go,” he said as he turned back around and walked out into the gym.
“Finally! I’ve been trying to get him to come out for weeks. And it’s all thanks to you Sakura,” Temari said and patted her on the shoulder. What was that supposed to mean? She never did get an answer as they walked out after Gaara.
“Tonight will be a great night you’ll see!” was all Temari said, giving Hinata a wink. Oh, but did she have plans for tonight...
Part 4
#Sabaku No Gaara#gaasaku#Sakura Haruno#gaara x sakura#naruto#modern au#temari#Hinata Hyuga#fanfiction#fanfic#sakura fanfic#writing#fan fic writing
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Have you ever heard “for you” by tonight alive? it’s pretty sappy, but it has such strong birdflash vibes “for you I would fly without wings/and for you I would run like the sun chases the moon”
I must admit, this is the first piece I’ve written that feels fluid for a long time. Thank you for sending me a song, it is a lovely one (definitely screams Birdflash, haha!). For everyone else who’s sent a request, I swear I am still slowly working on them, and I promise you’ll get a little something as well. :)
Birdflash drabble #4 - A little more than best friends
No warnings aside from the risk of cavities… Ah, and no beta’d and written by a messy non-English writer hahaha.
It started as a simple conversation, a simple idea Donna threw in the air and that the team picked on. With the summer holiday coming to an end and the first day of school approaching fast, the five friends decided to have one last evening of fun before getting dragged back to the dull yet stressful routine that came with every Septembers. Sitting at the terrace of their favourite cafe, each shared their desires. Garth suggested going to the lake now that most tourists were gone, Roy was fine with anything as long as he could bring his itty bitty daughter. Wally wasn’t very picky, unlike when they organized outings that were related to restaurants. Dick mentioned wanting to make a bond fire, and Donna only wanted to go someplace where she could expand her portfolio by taking pictures of the scenery.
“Alright so let me just summarize what we have so far.” She had kept track of everyone’s wishes by scribbling down on a napkin. “We are looking to go somewhere with a place to swim, somewhere that’s safe for little Lian and where it is okay to make a fire.” Her friends nodded.
“Wally doesn’t care as long as we bring enough food for his bottomless stomach.” Dick, the youngest of the team, snickered before he and his best friend began a playful “poke war.”
Donna gently tapped her bottom lip with the end of her pen as she thought of a place that could satisfy everyone. "Oh.“ Her eyes light up. “How about we go to the Moonstone river? I went there once with my photography class. Granted, it is a bit of a treck to get there, but it fits pretty much everyone’s request. And we could camp for the night.” Donna watched as her friends thought about it and seemed to agree on her proposal. With a smile, she announced: “Then it’s decided! We will meet early on Thursday and spend the night there.” Each rose their drink and cheered.
It was already sunny when the group met at the entrance of the provincial park. Dick was the first on sight when Donna and Garth arrived. Roy followed shortly; his daughter held his hand and hopped as she played imaginary hopscotch. As always, Wally was the last one to get there and was shy of being half an hour late. Funnily enough, Lian was the one to scold him for taking so long.
The walk up to the river took the group two hours to complete, which was relatively fast seeing how often they had to stop either because Donna argued she wouldn’t forgive them if they didn’t let her take that one perfect shot of birds and wildflowers, or to entertain the toddler who occasionally got tired of walking. With Lian riding his back, Wally became her private “horsey” and was ordered to run up the slope as fast as he could.
“You’re slow, West.” Of course, Dick had to tease him. And of course, Wally took it as a challenge. The two began to walk with long strides, teasing the other when one gained some distance. The rest of the group watched them hurry, shaking their heads as they were used to their silly shenanigans. Once they reached the top, Wally and Dick were out of breath with Wally sitting down and Dick leaning on his knees.
As expected, the provincial park’s river was beautiful. The water trickled down the rocks and reflected the sun; it was surprisingly not too cold to the touch. A few people had already claimed some spots around the water, but it was relatively calm, and the group didn’t have trouble finding their perfect place to camp. Putting their backpacks down, Garth and Wally hurriedly undressed and jumped into the water with Wally immediately regretting it. “It’s cold!”Meanwhile, Roy helped his daughter take out her clothes and gently applied sunscreen to her sensitive skin. The young father talked with his child, a relaxed and fond look softening his face. Dick watched them from afar, smiling and remembering how his father used to speak to him with a similar expression before passing away. At the same time, Donna was already taking pictures of everyone. She always said that the best photos were taken au naturel. A big, wet golden retriever whose smile could melt the iciest hearts ran up to her to greet her while ignoring his owner’s calls.
“A puppy!” Not even after a blink, Wally was next to her on the floor and hugging, kissing the wet dog. “Who’s a good boy? What’s your name? Where do you come from? Are you having fun?” He talked with a high pitch voice which caused the dog to wag its tail even harder. “Donna! Donna! You better immortalize this beautiful creature with your super photographing skills!” Ah yes, Wally sure loved dogs. But his canine friend noticed someone else and without a goodbye, ran past him to jump on another unexpected victim. Dick was halfway into the water, showing off his ricochet skills to Lian, when the golden retriever jumped next to him, making a splash big enough to soak him entirely. There was a couple of laughs as the teenager’s cheeks turned a little pink.
When the evening came, the sun began its journey to the west, leaving the sky like a palette of pink and blue. Most of the people had left earlier, and eventually, the team had to say goodbye to Mr. Snufflekins the golden retriever who had “helped” them collect enough wood to start their fire. Once it was big enough, the five friends began to prepare their meal: hot dogs cooked over the fire and roasted marshmallows. Because most of them had a competitive nature, they decided to make the marshmallow prepping a contest; the person who made a marshmallow with a delicate crust on the outside, but still soft in the inside would be crowned king or queen of the fire. And because the truth always comes out of a children’s mouth, Lian was designed as the judge for the contest. Carefully, she took a bite of each marshmallow, looking as if she was degusting them with the taste bud of a real chef. Finally, she proclaimed her overly burnt entry as the winner and no one dared challenge her choice. Laughter and horrible singing attempts filled the silence of the night. Garth was the first one to fall asleep, hugging an empty backpack and a kid playing with his hair. Wally dared Roy to draw on his face but was disappointed when he learned of the lack of marker.
When dawn came, Dick was still awake. Sitting with his arms loosely hugging his knees, he watched as the moon and the stars shared the sky with the rising sun. The trickle of the river along with the melody of the songbirds made everything so peaceful. Most of his friends were still asleep, having consumed too much food, energy and, yes, a couple of beers. Someone sat next to him, yawning loudly and stretching. “What are you doing up so early? I thought you were a night owl?” Wally asked as he followed the younger man’s gaze.
“And miss this?” Dick grinned, listening as Wally hummed next to him. They remained like this for a while, comfortable with the silence that settled between them.
“You know, I think I might have a little too much to drink yesterday.”
Wally turned his head toward his best friend. There was a slight tint of pink on his face. “Yeah?” Dick’s smile was soft, and Wally felt as if his blue eyes had captured the stars and the moon for they were shining with something magical. Wally felt drawn to him; his hand moved to gently cup his best friend’s cheek without him realizing. Dick’s skin felt cool to the touch, and Wally could feel him accept the touch as he pressed against his palm. Something was happening, he told himself. There was a spark in his eyes, a zing in his heart. It was just like any cliche movies described it, and Wally wondered if Dick was feeling the same thing.
As if Nature was encouraging him, Wally leaned a little closer as the breeze gently pushed his back. There was a moment of hesitation as if neither boys knew what they were doing. “Dude, can I…” Wally started. For once he felt at a loss of words. Dick’s hand rested over his as he nodded. Shortly after, their lips were sealed, and their arms moved so they could embrace each other tenderly. The moment only lasted for seconds, but to them, it felt like a lifetime.
“I guess that makes us something a little more than best friends,” Dick said, his voice a little unsure. Wally gently lowered him to the ground, holding him as if he was a porcelain doll who could break with any sudden movement.
“Who said we can’t be best friends and something a little more?”
#birdflash#dickwally#wallydick#dick grayson#wally west#fab 5#kibbles writes#thank you for participating!#i know you like the fab 5 so i thought i would do a story including them!!!#hope i didn't destroyed the characters holy crap#otp: let's grow old together
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The history of my fursonas! 🐱
I’m in an especially infodump-y mood at the moment and I watched a video about fursonas that inspired me (Shoutout to Pocari Roo’s channel!) so here we go ^o^
Click under the cut to read the whole enchilada! (It’s a long post, make sure you have the appetite for it first xD)
I first learned about the furry fandom in about 2013-14 from some friends at school! Granted, the two teenage boys I talked to a lot were more obsessed with the... sexual side of that xD I won’t go into that though because that would involve me talking about more uncomfortable stuff >.> I also had another friend that was such a huge influence to me and they’re a big reason that I still draw fuzzy animals to this day! Their fursona at the time was named Icy and I thought that character was the freakin’ coolest. I remember going home after talking to them, filled with inspiration and making my very first fursona!
Her original name was Rogue Feather, but the name Scarlett came later and ultimately stuck way better! Her design was simple, a red fox with a purple bandana! Not much thought was put into her, I just put together what I thought a typical fursona would look like :P I didn’t draw her much since I was way more focused on MLP and my ponysona Starfruit, but I still enjoyed doodling her!
Shortly after Scarlett, I created Citrus the cat! To be honest, she didn’t really represent me other than being a cat xD Her design was actually based off of a girl that I had a crush on at that time, but that’s a whole other story >.>
Also, it was coincidental that Twinkie has elements from both of these beginning characters, I just noticed that making this post! I learned that I loved cats from creating citrus, and I loved drawing Scarlett’s wings and bandanas so I suppose it was natural that my current fursona would have all of these traits :P
Well, months pass after posting the first drawings of Citrus and Scarlett on my Instagram, and at this point I decided to try taking up digital art! I downloaded FireAlpaca for free (still my program of choice x3) and worked really hard at drawing with only my mouse!
My friend that inspired me to draw more furry characters had changed their fursona over from a bright sparkledog-ish color scheme to another character with muted browns and oranges. Inspired once again, I designed another cat character to represent myself!
Meet Macchiato (or Mac for short)! They were made when I switched my focus from My Little Pony to furry characters, and I moved from Instagram to DeviantArt as my main art site.
When I made Mac, I was close to beginning high school and I questioned a lot about my identity, mainly my gender and sexuality :P For a period of time, I pushed aside my adoration for ponies, Pokemon and colorful things in favor of things I thought were “cooler” and more boyish. A large part of this was my complicated relationship with my gender identity, but also because I thought I had to act more mature... so I expressed this by drawing myself as a cat? It was complicated xD
Anyways, while I have a soft spot for Mac, they’re sort of my own Rex Dangervest if that makes sense :P I mean, they were my first expression of feeling neutral to gender which was a big deal for me, but when I look at their drab colors it sort of makes me sad that I didn’t have much fun designing them. (I did have a blast drawing that pixel reference though, I remember that xD)
I also created a few more furry characters just for the fun of it! I won’t post pictures of all of them for the sake of length, but they were Chamomile the fennec fox, Minx the cat, Caira the alien dog, Pfeffer the bunny, Flicker the bat (who I should draw again sometime >.>) Mitzi the dog and... Whatever animal Skyler was supposed to be xD I made all these characters before I attempted to make a fursona that I felt more connected with...
Along came Clash the cat, an even more depressing character than Mac for me to look at xD I was considerably depressed at this point from the pressure of high school and my identity issues, the droopy eyelids and chaotic color scheme of him sort of reflect this.
It’s a good thing you can’t read his description in that screenshot, Believe me, but I think I should quote a part of it because it greatly represents how I felt about myself during the time period when I made him.
“If you were to dissect his brain, you’d see something much like somebody’s tangled collection of thread and yarn. Colorful, unkept, and full of pushed aside potential.”
Ouch!!
Well, after a period of depressing fursonas I played that one cat icon creator game that circulated on Tumblr for a while, and I made my favorite old fursona! I think that he had a lot in common with Twinkie and I used them more than everyone else beforepaw.
Here’s Cetrada, my little Nickelodeon slime cat xD I named them after the Italian citron-flavored soda that my friend Francesca (Love ya buddy!) sent to me in the mail! That soda is actually spelled Cedrata, the misspelling of the name was not a creative choice but an actual dumb mistake xP
I genuinely still love this character, I nicknamed them Limey since it’s simple and cutesy like them, but I’m not sure if I’ll ever use them again. Think of them as teenage Twinkie I guess xD I love ya Cetrada, you were a good kitty <3
Eventually Cetrada grew stale for me and I went through a couple of other fursonas. I don’t have much to say about them since they were pretty short lived, but I’ll post a single picture of each of them! I’m getting a bit tired of making mini collages of them anyways :P
While Reese’s design and colors are a bit awkward, I genuinely adore their mini companion Mallow the bat :P They look like pistachio pudding, what a cutie!
Ugh, this fursona stresses me out to look at too xD I mean arguably they’re the closest in design to Twinkie (yellow cat with angel wings and star knee markings) but they remind me of a rough time I suppose? I drew a couple pictures of them looking more sexualized and with a more slim body type when in reality I was overweight and scared of intimacy... they just remind me of an unhealthy period of my life @_@ I must have felt that too though, I dropped this fursona pretty quickly.
I do actually like Kit even though I used him very briefly, I was starting to have WAY more fun with bright colors in my drawings! Sure he’s a bit too pastel 2015 Tumblr, but I do still like that pink and yellow combo ^w^
Eventually I grew sick of my DeviantArt and mostly just posted art on my main Tumblr where I got super into the kidcore scene! I had rediscovered my love of fun colors and sparkly eyes, kidcore sparked a new me! I wasn’t doing fantastic in life, but I developed more optimism and a genuine love for simple things which grounded me a lot. This was such a wild part of my life, through reblogging pictures of rainbows and Pokemon and slime I gained over 2,000 followers O.O Two of my closest friends told me that they found me by my influence in the kidcore Tumblr community back around 2016 and were intimidated to talk which is just nuts to me x’D
Anyways I’ll try not to go on a tangent about that anymore, but 2016-17 was wild! I should give a shoutout to my very first sparklesona Cosi, but he was made only barely before my true fursona...
That’s right babey, the one... The only!!!
HE’S FINALLY HERE! Twinkie, the fursona I truly felt a personal connection with. I mean, he’s everything I love bundled into one! Pikachu has been my hugest comfort ever since I was four years old so naturally I would have to incorporate it into my fursona somehow! I also gave him a bandana, my favorite accessory to draw on furry characters, and wings! Of course I love rainbows too so I gave him rainbow wings..... But I tweaked his design since the colored wings made him more bird-like. Nothing against birds of course, but I thought plain white angel wings were simpler and more iconic for him! I did give him a touch of rainbow later with his tag design! I also scrapped his red dot eyebrows and his tail bandana, but overall I loved the character I made! I was thrilled to have a fun cartoon kitty that I could use to express myself :3
Before him my only true-feeling ‘sona was Starfruit the pegasus, it was fulfilling because I feel like when I made Twinkie, I started to find myself!
Twinkie did go through a couple redesigns including a semi-drastic color change sometime in early 2018, but I really do feel content with the way he looks right now! In Twinkie I see friendliness, optimism, and a caring heart which is what I strive for! He represents the journeys I took to be more comfortable with myself and he radiates the confidence that I hope to achieve one day as well >:3 I mean it is possible I could change him for a new fursona or even flat out drop him in the future, but after 3 strong years I think Twinkie will stay a part of me for a while ^w^
Anyways, if you’ve read all of this, THANK YOU!! This was a really personal post and I think it’s fascinating to look at my own self progression this way, I hope somebody gained something from this but if it was just for me that’s okay too xD
If anyone read all of this looong post and wants to make a similar post, PLEASE tag me! I’ve been so interested in fursonas and how people see/represent themselves through cartoon animals, isn’t it a wild phenomenon??
If you don’t feel like making a big post like I did though, you should reply with some cool facts about your fursona or count how many you’ve made in the past xD That would be rad <3
#speakachu#fursona#boy this was quite the project of a post! it was really nice for me to do though#i sort of relived my whole teenage life while making this.. glad the post ended on a good note ^w^#twinkie and i plan on moving forward and striving for an even better life!
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BODY AND SOUL Part 21 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)
BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST
Author’s Note: Moved several things to Part 22 to make this chapter more concise (table fucking included, but you get fucking in the beginning, so don’t complain!). The album they’re listening to after Thai food is obviously Jefferson Airplane’s absolutely iconic SURREALISTIC PILLOW; the songs are two of my favorites, which indeed play adjacent to each other on the record: TODAY (one of the most beautiful love songs of all time) and COMIN’ BACK TO ME. Please note how careful Duncan is about waking Kenzie up before they fuck; autonomy, people, consent is hot! Their Exalted Selves (which is what I’m gonna refer to their angelic divine other selves as now) are based very vaguely on the Princess Serenity and Prince Endymion versions of Usagi and Mamoru in Sailor Moon, which I’ve loved since I was a child, but they’re far more ethereal and obtuse--it would be impossible for a human artist to draw Kenzie and Duncan’s Exalted Selves, for instance, as their beauty is too incredible and intense for human eyes. Kenzie’s makeup look for the photoshoot is based on Billie’s look here. A reminder that this is her red dress. The Cartier LOVE bracelets Duncan orders are here (for him) and here (for her, with diamonds). Duncan’s Givenchy star shirt. Duncan’s watch. This is his silver Cartier he’s wearing in Part 1. Here’s ANNIE’S SONG (another absolutely iconic love song I’ve loved forever). I found multiple meanings for the name Mackenzie, but in Gaelic it apparently means “comely”, which I used the synonym “lovely” in place of. The Rose Garden at the Botanical Gardens is real, but there’s no gate akin to the one I created, and I added a lot more roses than I think there usually are (there is a fountain)--MY STORY, MY STUFF. Annette’s dress. I’m seeing Fleetwood Mac tomorrow (it’s been two years since the last time I saw Stevie and I’ve missed her more than I can describe), I work on Saturday mornings, and it’s one of my best friends’ birthday party on Saturday evening, so Part 22 is going to take a bit; it’s also going to be the chapter where my!Duncan finds out from Claire Underwood that he was adopted, though the way I navigate that scene is going to be slightly different than the way Beau Willimon’s Season 6 did it; a reminder that my fic is a House of Cards AU in addition to being a Millory AU, and I’m throwing out canon HoC stuff that doesn’t fit into my narrative (such as @montenegro-style noticing I threw out Duncan’s super-Modernist apartment from the show and replaced it with a Romantic one), so don’t expect things to unfold the same way--I said this before too, but Duncan’s definitely not going to jail in my story, so forget about that. I may be borrowing characters and some vague plot elements from Ryan and Beau, but this story is mine. Love to the Millorys, as ever, and especially my Duckenzies.
Duncan stared up at the ceiling far above them, his fingers in Kenzie’s hair, his own hair tossed against the black pillow as music pumped quietly from the hidden stereo in the bedroom wall. To be living for you, is all that I want to do, to be loving you, it’ll all be there when my dreams come true...Kenzie was tucked under his arm, her head against his shoulder, the softness of her breasts and stomach pressing into his side, her body naked now--they’d ordered a mountain of Thai food, and she’d kept the tulle lingerie on while they ate, a linen spread on the floor in front of the picture window in the penthouse living room as the night fell, Dike, Nike and Athena gazing down on them on either side, Kenzie facing the Bouguereau prints, her little legs stretched out in the silky sheer stockings, bowl in her lap. The picture of her eating so hungrily in the delicate attire would forever be seared on his brain from this day on--my Kenzie, her essence, her goodness, her sweetness, her staggering beauty, not just her body, but her soul. Her wide-eyed gaze skirted up now and then to admire the prints (Duncan noticed she looked at Evening Mood the most), then fell back into his to give him coy looks, languidly licking curry from her spoon.
“I think they all look like you,” he’d murmured to her, the sincerity in his heart making him dizzy. “I can only see your face in them now, you in the evening, you at night, you waking up in the morning…” He reached for a spring roll but forgot about it halfway to his mouth as Kenzie had come up on her knees, her breasts pressing together in the elegant criss-crossing design of the black bra, tossing her golden hair over her shoulder in the fading light, her (sweet budding leaves and chocolate and the saffron light of autumn mornings) eyes laying him bare. Her beauty in this moment struck him dumb--Kenzie set her bowl down and crawled over to him on the linen, languid, knowing. Duncan had put on a pair of black gym shorts and a fitted black tee shirt to retrieve their takeout from downstairs a few minutes before, and as she reached him Kenzie tugged the hem of the shirt up, little hand soothing over his bare skin underneath.
“Call me your moonlight again,” she whispered against him, her eyes trembling open and closed, her little pink lips shining with the residue of spice and saliva. Her hair brushed against his neck and cheek, the sweet smell of rose and vetiver and jasmine, and Duncan had set the spring roll down uneaten, brushing his hand against the napkin in front of him, then bringing it up to press the cascade of her hair into his nose. She is my favorite smell. I’m at peace inside the scent of her.
“Moonlight. My moon princess. My moonbeam.” He kissed her hair--let his lips slip down its waves, intoxicated. “You know the full moon is on the night of the Gala, baby? A full moon just for you. It’ll shine down on you and everyone will be struck with longing for you. But you’re my baby, aren’t you? You’re my moonlight. They’ll pine for you because you’re mine.” He blushed at his need, his desire to have her all to himself--but as he said it, Duncan knew it was true. We belong to each other.
“Yes, Dunny, I’m your moonlight, I’m yours, my love. I belong to you.” Kenzie climbed into his lap, sliding against him in the achingly soft tulle, her ass settling down on his calves crossed together, and she was so small and felt so delicate and she smelled so lovely, he could feel himself growing hard again--her little arms came around his neck and he lifted her up into his mouth to kiss her, his mind awash in a cloud of gold. He was struck with a vision of her as Artemis, naked and white in the reflection of the moon, bathing in a midnight pool, her bow and arrow made of the gossamer strands of stars sitting on the bank of the water, singing moon hymns in her sweet voice to the owls and the deer and the foxes flitting through the undergrowth. Too beautiful for any ordinary man’s eyes. How am I so blessed. Their kisses extended for a long while--Kenzie went to lift away but Duncan needily brought her back against him and she let him, she fell into him again, she arched into him and he could feel the way she was giving herself to him, coaxing him back into arousal to do what she asked him for later tonight--his nerves were alight at the prospect of bringing her body out of achingly lovely sleep with insistence, enticing her under his continuous touch to give herself over to him in the dark with only the moon to see their desirous tangle.
Now they lay in bed (our bed, the bed of our adoration, our love, my favorite place now that she lays beside me in it), sleepy and full and naked and ready for bed, the duvet pushed down to their feet, speech seeming a very dull and faraway impulse. I can hear you this way, can feel you better this way, he thought into her, and she nodded against his skin, her cheek against his nipple as the music drifted around them. Please, please, listen to me, it’s taken so long to come true, it’s all for you, all for you...Duncan gazed down at her--her eyes had fallen closed and she had begun to breathe slow against him, her leg crooked over his thigh, her little mouth open just a touch. He could see there were still lingering red marks at her neck from his ardency, a tattoo that told the story of their nights. He thought of how she’d looked that morning, still stuck inside her sleep, stuck in her nightmare--her face had been creased with fear, and it had clenched an icy hand around his heart, rattling a panic into his lungs--he’d run to the bed and gripped her and shook her, his desperation strange and immediate. Wake her up, his mind had urged. Don’t let her see it, don’t let her suffer it. What it was still didn’t seem clear, but Duncan remembered what she’d said upon waking, that in her dream there had been a man with his face, a man who was like a black hole in the void.
It was like he had eaten you.
Duncan shivered against her and slid his arm out from underneath her head--Kenzie stirred, her head turning, her body shifting with aching loveliness--Duncan’s heart and the heat in the pit of him clenched as he watched the incline of her ribs shift, the refracted light on her breasts, heard the a tiny sigh fall from her mouth--but her eyes remained closed. He carefully moved from the bed and pulled the switch on the nightstand, his eyes still lingering on her (exalted), and the room plunged into blue-and-white darkness, Jefferson Airplane still quietly drifting into the room: you came to stay and live my way, scatter my love like leaves in the wind, you always say you won't go away, but I know what it always has been, it always has been...Duncan moved through the living room, stepping to the reading lamps to switch them off, bathing himself in darkness, his eyes falling over the expanse of the city through the picture window that encompassed the entire west end of the room. The night was very clear and the sun was gone--the only indication it had been there was a line of mauve and dahlia color lingering at the horizon before the sky bled into darkness pinpricked with stars, hazy in the reflection of the city.
Strolling the hills overlooking the shore, I realized I've been there before...the shadow in the mist could have been anyone...I saw you…
What do the dreams mean? At first Duncan had been sure they’d been brought on by the mad mix of emotion inside both of them lately--just dopamine, seratonin, oxytocin and endorphins, just our brains in a mad rush of ecstatic happiness, and the residue is our minds going haywire at night. He moved on to his study, the carefully controlled temperature of the penthouse cool on his bare skin, an oasis in the hot June night. This one seems to have been the clearest for her, and the most frightening. Is it fear that I’ll betray her that would make her dream of an evil version of me? His heart ached at that. I never will, baby. I never fucking will. I’d die first.
I saw you, I saw you, comin' back to me
Duncan glanced at the huge expanse of The Youth of Bacchus as he moved towards his turntable, the song’s final longing guitar and melancholy hum bleeding out into silence. The woman in the center, her arms thrown back ecstatically, her head tilted towards the consort at her feet, collapsed in revelry--Duncan had studied her many long nights, studied her abandon and her achingly white, almost translucent beauty, but now, like the prints in the room beside this one, he could see only Kenzie in her form--Kenzie dancing in the living room, singing in drunken joy (I’ll never live to match the beauty again), Kenzie running away from him into the ocean waves, Kenzie’s glittering eyes on him as he tied her to the chain. The whole of the world turned around her; she was the sun, and also the moon, and also every other star, and everything that encompassed the universe was because of and according to her--for me, that’s the end of it.
Duncan pressed the button at the side of the record player and the needle lifted away, settling back into its resting place. He turned to look at the painting again--the painting Annette had gotten him as a moving gift, and over time the painting that had begun to feel as though it were an irrevocable part of him, an extension of him, a friend to him as he stared at it long on lonely nights. He thought of the mesmerized way Kenzie stared at it, as she had since that first night when he pressed his mouth to her clit as she hovered on the edge of his desk, her head thrown back; as if she sees me in it, when now I see her in it. It’s almost too much to look at it for too long now; because it reminds me of the one I love most in all the world and she is blinding in her loveliness. It was always beautiful. But now it’s exalted to me because she loves it, and anything she loves is beloved to me.
He thought again of Ariadne, the painting he knew would be for her now, too; the auction was in a few weeks’ time, just before the beginning of July when their birthdays would be coming, and he smiled, his hand coming up to his jaw, his thumb pressing against his bottom lip, though he didn’t realize it, eager to have it hanging on the wall beside their bed, eager to see her face when she saw it and knew it was for her. When she died Dionysus took a crown he had given her and placed it among the stars. The idea of her dying someday was one he couldn’t begin to fathom; the despair of it was beyond words in its agony. But Duncan felt a drifting calm fall over him after the stab of pain--we found each other in this life, didn’t we. We finally found each other. I think we would find each other again. I think we’ll always find each other. I really fucking do. I think that’s what the Fates wrote for us. That we’re meant to be together--really, truly fated to be together. Like two stars in a constellation that endures until time no longer has any meaning. And there can’t be one of us without the other--not for long.
Duncan switched off the Tiffany lamp--now the penthouse was truly in darkness but for the light that came from the night outside. O Fates, I wish you could tell me what the dreams mean. They don’t feel like they’re just dreams. I know I said that to Kenzie--but I said it because I wanted to believe it myself. Lately, everything seems to mean something. Everything seems to have a hidden clockwork of purpose behind it. When we met I think we kicked something into motion, something ground out of a long sleep into a great predetermination. Now everything is vibrating with destiny--our destiny. Our love. Whatever she and I are meant to do with our lives, we are meant to do it together. Whatever I’m meant to do, I can’t do it without her. And I wouldn’t want to. I ache for her every moment--she has pierced the deepest part of my soul.
He carefully moved back to the bedroom in the dark--his eyes glanced up at Pallas Athena as he passed her, and he couldn’t help but send a prayer out to her (gray-eyed maiden, in whose wise gaze all truths are laid bare--give us wisdom, my sweet lover and I, to give to those who need it most, to move the pathways toward the greatest good--I’ve wasted time, Athena, I know it, but I swear I won’t again, I swear I’ll cherish every moment with her); he’d had the goddess statues for over five years now (they’d come from Stapleton’s, Frederick had found them for Duncan carefully when he’d asked for Greek goddess motifs), but never had he so often had the impulse to pray to them--I never prayed to anyone before, he remembered, and now I’d pray to anyone if it meant she would always be safe and happy. He thought of the Fates again (Clotho, Lachesis, Atropos), spinning the threads of their two destinies together many ages ago--most deep and unfathomable love, a love for all of time, he thought, and did not question where the certainty had come from, only felt acutely that it was not misplaced.
Duncan saw that moonlight now fell on the bed as he re-entered--the moon was waxing strongly now, and his breath felt caught in his throat as he looked at Kenzie in the throes of sleep, turned towards the door, the duvet still pushed down around her feet, so her body was bare to him. The silvery wave of the low light fell over her cheek and the tawny-gold of her hair, making it seem almost white, giving it a sheen that seemed otherworldly. But she is, he thought, emotion clouding into his mind, stunning him with her again (and again and again) as he watched her sleeping form, her silvery nakedness, the dip of her waist and one arm crooked around her hip, hand dipping down in front of her sex, the other pressed against her mouth, sweetly--she was more profound to him than anything, more breathtaking than any art of any age. It’s like she is from another world--it’s like she was snatched from heaven and fell down into my arms, into my bed, fell down onto that balcony where I beheld her, trapped here on earth, for the first time. I felt that I knew she was more than what she might have seemed to an untrained eye. And I still feel that I know it. She has an effect on other people that they don’t seem to really recognize or understand. But I see it. And I think I understand. My Kenzie isn’t just lovely and kind; she has real power to heal, to alter the pain others feel and alleviate their suffering. Kenzie has a healing touch, one that can knit together and remedy a distressed soul. It’s almost like she really could bring something back from the dead. It’s like she could sew back together, using only her hands, her energy, something that had been ripped apart, reverse fucking time--it’s like she somehow willed me onto that balcony, so I could find her, so I could touch her and in that touch know her immediately as I always have, and know she was the half of me that had been lost, but no longer. Because she had willed us back together. She had willed us to find each other again, and so we did--she attached a golden string to me long ago when time began, whispered to me that it would help me find her if we got lost, if we got separated from each other--and I finally saw it glimmering between us, and followed it to where she was. Saint Mackenzie, goddess of lost things, goddess of binding, of rebirth, of transcendent healing, of perfect love. My moonlight, my sunlight, my starry sky, beloved.
He could feel himself growing hard again, thinking of her sliding onto his lap in the tulle lingerie, the demanding croon of her voice (call me your moonlight again, I want you to wake me up with kisses and fuck me in the dark with your lips pressed into my shadows, I want you to kiss my shadows, and touch them with aching hands), and Duncan knew it was the right time--that it was time to press his mouth into the soft space of her in the darkness. His eyes had begun to adjust to the dark now and he eased down onto the bed, its cool sheets shivering up his thighs, urging him toward her--Duncan reached down to where her arm crooked over her hip and slid his fingers up her torso to the sweet roundness of her breasts, achingly slow, willing himself into tenuous control, overwhelmed with the relief of touching her without any constraints, without his hands tied or the lingerie covering her or anything in the way of her, Kenzie, my solace, the home of my heart. He eased his body down next to hers, his hands still cosseting around her, fingers drifting back and forth on her nipples, and he felt a surge of blood into his cock as he felt them grow hard under his touch, though she didn’t stir yet (wake me up with kisses) and Duncan leaned his face to her across the pillow and pressed a soft, aching kiss into her forehead, her temple, each eyelid, shivering in sleep, the dip of each cheek, over her nose and the incline of her jaw, and then he pressed down, sliding against the coolness of the sheet again, to bury his face against her neck, his kisses becoming more insistent, more exacting of her--wake up my love, Duncan pressed into her mind, feeling her head lift as she stirred, slowly beginning to register him, wake up baby, and he felt strange for a moment, caught up in her unconscious mind, as if he was brushing up against another self, another Kenzie--then the feeling cleared, and he could feel her golden waves of energy. And he said again, into her: wake up my love, wake up baby love, wake up so I can fuck you, wake up so I can press my kisses into your shadows, wake up so we can be together.
Then--Duncan was stunned with the feeling that surged into him in that moment. It was almost painful, the brilliancy and power of her energy as he lingered inside her in that in-between place that wasn’t waking and wasn’t sleep for her, and he felt minute inside it, wildly small to behold her this way; fucking goddess. Oh fuck, Kenzie. You really are a goddess. You have all of this inside you and I am staggered by you. I can’t begin to fathom this. Is this where you go when you sleep? Back to the secret expanse of everything you keep hidden, this place of resplendent power that has colors I’ve never seen, colors I could never describe? Is this where you came from? And even more unbelievably, he heard her voice inside that in-between place, calling out to him, and her voice was full of so much joy it immediately made him want to sob against her, and she said yes baby, Duncan, exalted, beloved, this is where I came from, and where you came from, and you come here too in your dreams, but you never remember, but you will. Soon, you’ll start to remember. What we were before, what we are, and what we will be again. Soon we’ll both start to remember, for our destinies were written when the stars were just dreams themselves, and our destinies will live on when they’ve burned out.
Duncan’s mind felt like it was on fire with the feeling of her, the words she spoke that made no sense to him, and yet made every sense, a deeper sense, their hidden meaning touching against the shadowed hidden heart of him, and he lifted his mouth up to the space under her ear, one hand cradling up under the back of her head to pull her more firmly against him and the other sliding down the intoxicating softness of her rib cage and her belly to hover at her abdomen, hover above the mouth of her sex, waiting for her eyes to open to him, to give him the yes he longed for, and he felt the intensity of the in-between place begin to fade--felt reality seep back in, like milk stirred into dark coffee, and Kenzie was stirring more strongly against him, leaning into his mouth tasting at her skin, and a moan escaped from her that stirred the building heat in his groin and he spoke into her skin, his own words bleeding into a moan, a reply of need for her--”wake up baby, wake up all the way for me, wake up and tell me to touch you, tell me to fuck you, Kenzie, uhh--” and despite the darkness, he felt her eyes open, their golden depth unnerving him for a moment (how can they be glowing like that, like a ripe harvest moon), focusing on him as though he were the one pinprick of light in a long darkness, and then they seemed to fade back, fade to the forest-and-burnt-acorn he recognized--he had leaned back to look at her, his lips lifting away from her skin, and he gasped as her little hand came down, exacting, and slid from the dusting of hair at the top of his groin, closing around the length of his stiffening cock and dragging her achingly soft grip to the head of him.
“I’m here, baby,” she whispered, and he felt his need kindle up like someone had thrown gas onto a bonfire, felt his cock jump inside her grip, and then she said “touch me,” and he slid his fingers, middle first, down between the lips of her cunt and pressed, harshly, into her clit, so warm and so wet and sending a spasm of want through his body--Kenzie lifted up, almost involuntarily, and her moan was longer now, focusing on him, inside the sensation of his touch, beseeching him for more. “Yes, baby, fuck yes,” Kenzie moaned, “more, more,” and Duncan pressed the lips of her sex outward with his other fingers, his long middle finger still working down into her clit, strictly, then finally, he kissed her, open-mouthed, and her sweet little tongue laved out against his, her slender hand still gripping his cock with a strength that addled his senses. In the shadows, with only the moon to light their bed, Duncan felt he could feel the way she was sending little pinpricks her power, that terrible gold energy, too beautiful to behold in this world, into his body through her grip, as if she were sending it into his spirit, giving him strength, kindling his desire to a high place he had never imagined, residue from that in-between place, residue from another world where such things were commonplace, so much power was the natural order.
But Duncan knew what she wanted then, and he broke their aching kisses apart, moving his hand up from his attentions at her sex, pushing her little body down forcefully so she was on her back, pressing her legs wide apart and coming up between them on his knees, and Kenzie lifted her hips so she was poised against the head of his cock, her hair falling down in the moonlight, her hands coming up to his arms and then sliding down to his wrists to clutch him against her. Duncan gripped her carefully at the small of her back, his thumbs pressing across her hip bones (god I want to kiss them)--then he thrust into her with an ecstatic groan, marveling at how wet she was, how perfect it felt to be inside her in the dark this way. Kenzie shuddered into him, a little cry falling from her lips, and in the dark he could see her mouth lingering open, her eyes rolling back for him, “that’s it, baby,” he couldn’t stop himself, needed to speak his desire aloud to her, in the dark, where no one else belonged but the two of them in this moment, “give yourself to me, everything, the shadows too, I’ll kiss them, I love you--” and he felt her nails dig into the skin of his arms as he pounded into her, wondering at the intensity of his hardness, the lightness of her body against him--god baby, I don’t want to crush you and she said “fuck, keep going, do not fucking stop, god you feel so fucking good, fucking fuck me Duncan--”
Her little hand reached up to him, lifting from his arm and he leaned down to her, pressed down into her, easing her back down onto the bed and fucking her achingly close now, their stomachs pressing against each other, her hand coming under his jaw to pull his mouth into her, tasting him breathlessly as he drove his length into her again and again, and her scent was rose and vetiver and her sweet, heady sex, and her yielding mouth was almost too wonderful, too much to bear, and his hands came around to cup her breast and against her neck to press there softly and she wrapped her little feet around his back and her fingers twined into his hair at the nape and Kenzie whispered “my sweet baby, my beautiful Prince, fuck me--” between their kisses and Duncan felt faint with her realness again, faint with the feeling of her cunt clenching around him, faint in her arms, her loveliness, her silken skin, the slight, achingly sublime sounds she was making overwhelming his senses.
His hand came down between her legs again and his fingers pressed ardent circles against her and he said “baby, do you want me to suck on you, do you want me to kiss your clit--” and Kenzie shook her head against his lips and said “no, baby, no, don’t stop fucking me, just touch me like that, touch me in the dark, I love you, Duncan, I love you with every part of me--” and he was nodding against her--”I love you too baby, Kenzie, I love you, oh god I love you, I can’t describe--”, his memory drifting against the power he’d felt from her as she floated out of sleep, absolutely in awe of her again, absolutely at her mercy, inside her grace, and she shushed him as his fingers flicked back down to the wetness that coated her cunt and his cock as he thrust his whole length into her, then out, then back again, and redoubled his effort with his fingers at her clit as their mouths came together again and she began to shake in his arms, a shaking that began at her shoulders and cascaded down her body into where his cock was buried inside her and she moaned into his mouth, a moan that became a prolonged wail into him, her words muddling into incomprehensible murmurs that Duncan could almost see, like colors, floating around them--”Dunny, oh, fuck--oh fucking fuck baby oh ohhhhh beloved baby my sweet fucking babyfuck love you I love you--” and Duncan breathed in carefully, deeply, keeping the rhythm of his movement into her steady and concentrated as she came, her little hands clutching his head down to her, twisting into his hair and pulling it harshly as she cried out, and he thought oh Kenzie, you’re bathed in moonlight, you look like an angel, you’re too beautiful for words--
Suddenly, inexplicably, inside her release, Duncan’s mind was jerked back into wherever it had been before Kenzie woke up--into where he’d hovered inside her psyche, in that in-between place, and he remembered her words again, still locked against her, inside her, the rhythm he’d built unceasing, words that she seemed to speak from another self floating back into his mind, a version of her that had immense power, an energy that seemed too great for reality, too beautiful for human eyes--soon, you’ll start to remember, what we were before, what we are, and what we will be again--and Duncan saw a version of them in his mind, as though in a memory, where they were both in that place that seemed to be made of those inexplicable colors that he’d felt inside Kenzie, colors that felt like emotions, like the love he felt for her, like the love he could feel coming into him from her. Kenzie’s hair was longer than it was now, it was so long it fell to her knees, and it sheen was indescribably lovely, paler than the tawny-gold he had begun to know so well, a white-gold that was almost silvery, in magnificent waves, and he saw tiny flowers woven through the strands, their color indescribable to him, their shape unlike any flower he could think of--each one seemed to have a hundred tiny petals. Around her forehead was a circlet of gold so thin and fine it seemed an impossible thing to exist at all. Her dress was unlike anything he’d ever seen, either--it seemed to be made of the gossamer strands of a thousand spider webs, a hundred intricate honeycombs of some vast, beautifully geometric design that was simply too complex to ever create, and yet she wore it, and it fit her as though it were her second skin--intricately woven, rose-golden embroidery fell over the dress--its pattern was like a language he could not comprehend. And her eyes--inside her eyes in that place he felt he really could see a universe turning, so magnificent and so golden that they threatened to rend his heart into a thousand fragments. He realized he was inside some other self in this moment--he couldn’t see his own face, but could see his own clothing, the intricately woven sleeves over his arms, in a similar incomprehensible gold embroidery and geometry that made him dizzy to even attempt to contemplate--he wore a kind of thin, woven gold breastplate that was akin to the aegis on likenesses of Athena, but its quality also seemed incomprehensible to him, a weave that seemed to shift and change under his gaze, and he could feel weight at his shoulders--a strange weight that felt familiar, but also heavy beyond all understanding.
And in the memory, or the imagining, or whatever the vision was that he had tumbled into, he noticed with a wild, fierce surprise that Kenzie, this other Kenzie, this Kenzie wrapped in intricate golden lovely things that were not of earth, with shimmering hair twined with tiny universe flowers, had wings extending from her back--wings that were gold and silver and iridescent rose and other colors that he didn’t know the names for, wings that were unlike any wings he’d ever seen on a bird or a bat or any earth-bound winged creature, but he knew they were wings just the same, knew they were wings for a certain kind of being--a divine being.
And then he resurfaced back into the dark of the bedroom, their bedroom, and he was still moving with an intense rhythm against her and he was coming deep inside her now and Kenzie was clutching at his torso between his hips, her cries quiet but her mouth hovering open, and her eyes had that strange glow again, intensely focused on him, the one he’d seen when he woke her from her sleep, and then it faded as he emptied himself into her, his moans extending into deep silence, and he pulled out of her and collapsed beside her, his head falling into the pillow, and clutched her desperately against him and felt her mouth come against his chest and her little hands clasp against his ribs, and Duncan remembered nothing else until he woke the next morning at sunrise in the same position, with her still clutched in his arms, her little breath having left a damp pool against his skin, her face cherubic and far away in her sleep in the dim morning light, and he wondered upon his waking if it had all been a dream. And then he fell back into sleep, his hand coming up to bury in her hair.
-------
“Babyyyy, Dunny…” Duncan felt her little mouth pressed into his ear and his eyes opened--full sunlight was streaming into the room now and Kenzie was leaning down to him, kneeling on the bed, wearing her satin kimono, her eyes (your earthly eyes, baby, not your divine eyes, you keep those hidden most of the time but sometimes I can see a little bit of them, that gold whirling around, and last night I saw all of them and they were beyond words, they were ethereal as the first dawn--) open and awake to him, a little smile playing around her mouth.
“I brought you coffee, baby,” and Kenzie’s hair fell against his collarbone as she dipped down to kiss him, and Duncan’s hand immediately came up, needy, to the space under her ear.
“Kenzie, baby, do you remember that? Last night?” His eyes searched hers--please tell me if that was real, beloved angel. Please tell me that wasn’t a dream. Did you see the vision? Kenzie stared at him, and her mouth dipped open, and Duncan was suddenly hazy with her loveliness again, hazy with longing. I love you more than the morning sunlight, wondrous Kenzie. “You said something to me--that I’d start to remember something, about who we were, who we’re going to be--”
Kenzie eyes lost some of their clarity, and she handed him one of his glass coffee mugs, carefully. He sat up, leaning into the shape of her hand--she dipped her head down and her hair fell over her shoulder again, the strap of her top falling down onto her arm. Duncan wanted to press his lips to the bare skin there--wanted to press his mouth against her heart, the delicate space between her breasts. There is never a moment where I wouldn’t rather be kissing you. He knew she heard him--her face became even more radiant in the daylight, her hand coming up to brush shyly against her cheek at his thoughts.
“I...I don’t know...sort of, baby,” she said finally, eyes flitting up into his and then away, towards the great mirror, towards the window, its curtains partially drawn but the sliver of day visible beyond. “It was like a dream, wasn’t it? Like we both slipped into a dream.”
“Yes, baby, it was, but I don’t think it was a dream.” Duncan brought the coffee to his lips and drank, the hot, bitter liquid coursing down his throat, immediately stirring his senses more sharply. “I think it was like...a memory.”
“How can that be,” Kenzie laughed a little, inside her words. “Dunny, baby, the way you looked to me--you were so radiant, so beautiful, it was too much to bear. You were...you were a real angel, you had wings, but they were--” Duncan was putting the coffee down on the nightstand, his heart suddenly rattling inside him, and he reached out and grasped her hands tightly, pulling her closer. “--they were not like any wings I’ve ever imagined, they were in colors I’ve never seen--” “Kenzie, baby, I saw you that way too--” “And your clothing, it was like, gold and had this design to it, but I couldn’t figure out the--the design, it was like, it was made of something that doesn’t exist in this world--” “Fuck, Kenzie, you looked that way too, baby, your hair had a hundred tiny flowers in it and each flower was made of its own universe, and your eyes were like a gold galaxy spinning--” “Fuck, Dunny, that’s lovely, how can you say that to me, that’s too lovely--but--but you looked so amazing too, your hair was longer and more golden and your eyes were like a blue nebula, but the blue was not any blue I’ve ever seen before, it was--”
Their lips were rushing together again, and he was pulling her against him, sliding towards her, and her little hands came up to twine inside his where they clutched her face tenderly and he thought I love you Kenzie I love you fuck I love you I’m yours I’m yours and when I die my spirit will call out to you through time I’ll still be yours forever never doubt that I am yours my beloved my exalted beloved most hallowed of all most unearthly and divine love and he knew the dream had not been a dream, knew they’d seen something that seemed impossible but was not, something that was hidden deep in time that somehow they had glimpsed, that their love had uncovered the great secret of it, that finding each other here had opened the door on that other place, and he was overwhelmed inside the knowledge, and it was all he could do to hold her against him and taste her, her little face lifted up to him, her eyes closed, her face ecstatic (saintly, her pleasure in this moment sacred), the feeling of her under his hands so intensely real he wanted to cry.
“I--Kenzie, I want--”
Her eyes opened to him--hazel, depth of green--his hands still clutched her and their mouths hovered over each other, pulled back for a moment. I want to marry you. I want to be tied to you in the eyes of all, your most loyal, most faithful, most devoted husband.
He knew she’d heard, despite the words un-escaped from his lips. She looked down, suddenly shy again--her cheeks dusted with color immediately, and she felt achingly warm under his fingers. She was so lovely here, in reality, in his arms, to try to contemplate her in that other place was like trying to contemplate the mathematics of the universe in the face of the glory of one star; there was too much, and she was too great, and her multitudes were staggering, and he felt his breath hitch--felt the tears come against his eyelids. Neither of them said anything, but he could see the emotion gathering in her face towards him; he knew Kenzie could see how close to tears he was, and saw that it was moving her to tears, too.
“After the Gala, when we go to the cabin,” she whispered to him. “We’ll have time and space--to, to think about all of this. To figure it out. To figure out what all of this means. Okay? Duncan. I love you. I love you so much. You are beloved to me. You are the only one for me. Just be patient, okay? Be patient with me, baby. I’m here and we’re together. We just have to get through this first. We’ll be alone so soon. Alone to--alone to--to see each other. To really see.”
Duncan dipped his head away from her--he felt utterly overcome, and tried to gather the many threads of himself that had scattered and dispersed, as if in a gust of wind. He nodded--he knew she was right, knew that his patience was required, knew the rush he felt wasn’t a true need, rather his own deep desires. But he couldn’t help it--he wanted their life to begin so much. I want everything to fall into place, I want us to move the company forward to help others and the wheel of fate to grind toward the greatest good, I want you to have everything you’ve ever dreamed about, Kenzie, angel, I want the sweetness of you in the quietness of the woods, under the starry night sky where there is no one but us.
Baby, she thought into him. Dunny. I love you so much I can’t speak it. I can’t tell you. You have to feel it from me, just feel me, feel that I love you more than life, more than every flower, every living breathing thing, know that you’re the angel of my heart, the light of my body and my soul. And he did--he could. He could feel the golden wave she pushed down into him, the inexplicable touch of her so fine that it felt as though she were wrapping a second skin around him, this one radiant and impenetrable, this one the skin that would protect him from the outside world, invisible but inviolable, his hidden armor, woven by her little slender hands, all her love whispered into each strand, all her divinity blessing him. And my love shall protect thee, guide thee, and keep thee always, for thou art exalted in the light of my adoration, my divinity I give to thee, my sanctity I have divided unto thee, my soul I have split with the aid of the three-headed goddess, my golden thread I have tied to thee, and so thou and I art the same. And Duncan knew these words weren’t really Kenzie’s words--they were the words of the other Kenzie, the one with the silvery hair and the eyes like planets made of gold, the words that winged, ethereal creature had spoken to the other Duncan he had hovered inside last night, the one who wore the golden aegis, the other him with the colossal weight of his own wings.
Then the spell seemed to break, and he felt the tears drift away from him--he gently let go of her, and she slid away from him off the bed, and he felt the peaceful gold she’d borne down on him wafting inside his chest and his belly, in the core of his body. Duncan reached for his coffee again, watching her step into the walk-in, glancing at him over her shoulder with a peaceful, knowing smile. “Time to go see your mother, Duncan.” He groaned a little, smiling back at her--reality seeped back in strongly, and he reached for his phone on the nightstand, turning it over.
There was a text from Annette, confirming that the Vanity Fair interview and photoshoot would be at the Botanic Gardens in a few hours, the one for Forbes at The Lafayette after that, a restaurant inside the Hays-Adams hotel that he’d been to for several interviews in the past, most of them for Gardner Analytics. He had ignored her text from yesterday, wherein she’d called him ludicrously naive, their moving in together preposterous and claimed Kenzie was a greedy little social climber, a phrase that had made him want to hurl his phone across the room despite the heights of his mood with Kenzie in the kitchen only moments before--he looked them over again, scrolling up, fighting the anger seething back into his mind, urging himself to calm. I refuse to let her get a rise out of me today, he thought, and answered his mother today with nothing more than a clipped “Okay.” You can’t make me turn on her, Mom. It’s not going to happen. Never in a million years. You might as well try to make the sky fall down or stop the tides or keep the sun from rising and setting. You will never break us apart. Not only do I love her more than I love my own life--I know, I feel like I know that we’re actual fucking Soulmates, we can hear each other’s fucking thoughts, and I think these dreams and visions we’ve been having are the future, the past, or some strange parallel present. You really don’t fucking get it, but I think eventually you will, because you won’t have any other choice. Eventually everyone will get it. We’re together and I think...I think we always will be, if there are other lives after this one. I think...we always have been.
“I can’t believe we have a fan club now, baby.” He heard Kenzie’s voice drift towards him from where she was hidden from view in the closet, and he came out of the soft gold of the thoughts he’d begun to delve down into.
“You were so sweet to those girls, Kenz. The paps noticed right away. You handled that like a pro, I was so proud of you. I bet Claire’s texted you a BPF post about it already.”
“Check my phone, baby, it’s on my side. My password’s 0717.” Her birthday.
Duncan reached for Kenzie’s white iPhone in its iridescent gold case--he smiled down at the black inverted moon sticker, beginning to rub away into white, running his finger over it, then turned the phone over. Clairebear had indeed texted her (how did I know), a telltale BPF link visible in it, and behind the text Duncan could see her lock screen was ones of the Esquire shots of him--the one where he had a thin circlet of silver around his forehead, his eyes skirting to the left of the camera, their blue emphasized to striking brilliancy by the filter used on the shot, his hand adjusting his cuff facetiously. He thought of his own lock screen, with the shot of her smiling down at the breakfast he’d made her, sunlight on her cheek, grapefruit juice and Adelaide’s silver spoon in her hands--wait until we do a photoshoot together, baby, he thought. God, you’re going to look so beautiful. You always do. I should commission someone to paint you. Fuck, I should fucking do that. I’d die to have a painting of you. A huge one, colossal as The Youth of Bacchus, of you with flowers in your hair, you in wild moonlight, you as the goddess you are, you--
Duncan got up from the bed, glancing up at his naked reflection in the mirror (no wings, no aegis, no long gold hair, that’s for damn sure), then back down at the phone, slowly moving towards the closet doorway with her phone still clutched in his hand, thumbing her password into the surface, reading Claire’s text.
Clairebear: Kenzie Lou, look at this. They LOVE you. You knew exactly what you were doing with this. You wily little lady! I can’t believe you have a fan club now. You have to look at the website these girls have created. I’m just screaming over it, it’s insanely cute. They have like 15,000 members already. It’s insane!!! Also, is Harris single? He’s so hot, oh my FUCKING GOD.
He grinned at her message--I love how Claire texts Kenzie, he thought, and clicked on the BPF link. DUCKENZIE GREET FANS WARMLY OUTSIDE ONE FRANKLIN SQUARE, POSE FOR PHOTOS--the first shot was Lindy passing the roses to Duncan in his sunglasses, the second was a lovely shot of Kenzie smiling at Gabby (god look at her, an angel), then one of her leaning over the newspaper, writing, one of her tucking her hair behind her ear, face still dipped down, Duncan’s hand pressed against her back, his expression unreadable behind his sunglasses (I was worried as fuck), her smile still apparent--how could anyone look at these and not fall in love with her, Duncan thought, his hand coming up against his jaw, trailing there, lost in the photos. There were a few more: side-angles of them posing with each of the girls, then Duncan pulling Kenzie away from them, Harris close behind, glancing darkly into the camera. Duncan turned into the closet, his eyes still on the phone--he tapped one of the photos of her looking up at the girls over the newspaper, the sharpie poised in her hand, enlarging it.
“Baby, look at this--” Duncan held her phone up to where he knew she would be standing, eyes rising to look at her, and then he stopped dead--Kenzie had slipped on the red dress, the lacy red bodice hugging her tiny waist and her round breasts (I fucking love them, I love her), the full lace of the skirt fanning out beautifully down her hips, and she was throwing her chestnut hair over her shoulder, her head still tilted to the side, away from him--she turned and met his eyes, and she smiled at him, her eyes roving up and down his nakedness. “Hey baby,” she murmured, her voice husky.
“God, I love that fucking dress.” His thoughts immediately drifted to when she’d been wearing it as she eased onto his lap in that makeshift dressing room, his fingers coming between her legs and coaxing her into a secret euphoria, the way he’d wiped his fingers after on a tissue and brought it to his nose, the heady scent of her sex making him wildly dizzy. “My mother’s going to flip her shit, baby, and I honestly can’t wait to see it.”
Kenzie stepped toward him, hands coming out to take her phone, her fingers brushing along his as she did, making the hairs on the nape of his neck stand up--she stared up at him for a moment longer, the depth of green hovering behind her corneas--and I love looking at you naked, baby, was the thought she pushed into him, and Duncan bit into his lip, goosebumps breaking out on his skin--then she looked down at her phone and he was staggered again by the loveliness of the smile that fell over her face as she saw the photo.
“I look nice, don’t I?” She said, looking up at him again. “I mean...I look kind, I mean.” She blushed--Duncan melted at the sight of her shyness.
“Baby. You are kind. You’re kind to everyone. And you look fucking beautiful in these. Everyone is in love with you now. I have to admit…” Duncan stepped closer to reach her, his hands falling down her bare arms and the sides of the lacy red dress--Kenzie wore no makeup yet, but her eyes were so wide and so beautifully colored they seemed illuminated somehow--”It makes me a little jealous. I selfishly want you all to myself sometimes. I don’t want to share you.” Kenzie’s eyes fell into his again, and her little hand was falling down his bare torso to trail over his hip bones, needling with her thumbs and forefingers, her mouth opening to him.
“I was thinking, later...” and Kenzie was reaching up to him, tiptoed, her mouth pressing into his jaw as he leaned his head down to her, his hands at her shoulder blades, pressed into her hair. “You could throw me down onto that big, beautiful cherrywood table--” and her mouth was edging along to his chin and to the other side of his jaw, and Duncan couldn’t stop himself from leaning into her, moaning against her, his cock stiffening--”and fuck me on it, baby, fuck me standing while I wear this dress--” and Duncan was nodding against her, his eyes closing with the sensation of her, her little hand flicking down to play over his length, then teasingly away. “--I was thinking I’d really love it if you’d do that…”
“Yes, Princess. Yes, I will--” Duncan’s mind thrilled, imagining her body prostrate against the beautiful antique table, her golden hair tossed onto it, the sound of its creaking as he thrust into her, his mouth on her body. We can finally use that table regularly, he thought. We have to fuck on every surface of this penthouse, baby, every square inch, I need to fuck you as often as you’ll permit me, as often as you’ll desire my attentions--
“Good.” Kenzie moved back from him, eyes intense in his, her mouth and hands sliding away from him, and Duncan groaned desperately at the loss of her touch. “Now, get dressed, baby. Do as I say.” Her eyes skirted down to his cock and Duncan shivered at her eyes--look longer, baby, look at me, I’m yours, my aching sex is all for you, my body, my desires, all for you. But her eyes lingered for only a moment, as if to tease him, then she moved past him on her fast little feet, towards the kitchen. Later, baby. You know later I’ll be yours. Later I’m gonna tell you to fuck me good and you’re going to do it, aren’t you, baby.
Yes, Kenzie. Duncan had half a mind to go after her, to grab her wrists and press his mouth against her, but he knew he wouldn’t, couldn’t--Kenzie told me to obey. Her desires come first. He let out a long, shuddering breath, then turned to where his shirts hung in their quiet, pressed, dark row. He pulled down a black cotton Givenchy shirt with stars embroidered along the collar--all the stars in the sky are for her, he thought, drifting inside his desires as he began to dress, thinking of tiny flowers with a thousand petals, each one containing a universe.
---------
“Kenz, Samuel and Harris are downstairs,” Duncan looked up from the text on his phone to where Kenzie was sitting across from him at the island, about an hour later. She clutched a little bottle of Pellegrino in her hand, a piece of half-eaten sprouted grain toast with unsalted peanut butter in front of her (Duncan had made it for her alongside a sliced, skinned kiwi and a carefully squared mango, which she’d already devoured), hair falling over her shoulder, the Tiffany moon necklace at her throat, glinting at him--she’d applied a little makeup now, though he knew undoubtedly the stylists would want to put more on her for the photos they’d be forced to take today (not that I mind sitting around staring at you, baby, that’s all I ever want to do now)--and she’d been looking at her phone too, grinning at something unseen to him, some secret pleasure on the little screen.
“Baby, look. Look at this. I can’t believe it.”
She pushed her phone across to him--with a little jolt of nerves Duncan realized Kenzie had gone to DUCKENZIEFANS.COM. Holy fuck.
Duncan was used to fans--that is, a certain type of fan. They tended to be women, many of them middle-aged and as questionably-mannered as the two women in the coffee shop who’d taken photos of him and Kenzie without asking, or DC socialites with a desire to climb (that is, fuck) their way up the social ladder of the capital city. Duncan couldn’t deny he’d slept with several such socialites, but they all seemed to be part of a distant past he could barely see now--part of another life, another Duncan, a man who hadn’t understood himself at all, hadn’t bothered to pay closer attention to his real desires, his hopes, or the sources of real happiness he had encountered. Kenzie has awakened my senses to the world that is always hovering just outside our eyesight--the hidden world that is seeped in delicate beauty, the world that comes out when one looks at art, or hears beautiful music, or is present in nature. Love is, I think, all of these things--and all of these things remind me of love. Of the one I love. Of her.
The website had clearly been made by someone with graphic design experience--the interface was lovely and easy to follow, and the aesthetics were pleasing. The home page was tasteful and minimal, gold and soft cream with black lettering--he thought of the two teenage girls who had greeted them--those girls made this website? The headings were in Lobster script, and the text in soft Playfair Display. WEBSITE UNDER CONSTRUCTION, thanks for your patience, read a header near the top. Above it was the photo of the two of them at Le Diplomate taken by some random iPhone camera, but sharpened and filtered to be maximally flattering. A bar down the side had directives neatly listed: DUCKENZIE FAQ, HOW TO JOIN THE FANCLUB, DUNCAN SHEPHERD PRESS RELEASES, MACKENZIE STONE PRESS RELEASES, DUCKENZIE PRESS RELEASES, DUCKENZIE MERCH & FAN CLUB EXCLUSIVES, COMBINED GALLERY, CONTACT INFO, FAN MAIL INFO, MEMBER FORUM. He marveled at the page for a moment, lost in it--Duncan knew he had had fan sites before now, but he’d never looked at any of them beyond Instagram, the site he tended to frequent the most when he had bothered with social media at all in the past. But this website was exceptionally ordered, clearly by someone who was interested in design and who also had developed a serious fascination with the two of them. He clicked on the link titled DUCKENZIE PRESS RELEASES--sure enough, the topmost result was the series of photos from the article posted today on BPF, with Kenzie smiling at Gabby and Lindy, the camera facing her. Under it was a link to the gossip site and a long series of paragraphs, clearly written by the two girls, about how friendly and warm Kenzie had been to them. Duckenzies, you wouldn’t believe how lovely she is in person! It’s like she’s surrounded by a warm ring of sunlight and being near her makes your whole body tingle. She smelled like roses and flowers, like a goddess of spring. Just being close to her was so incredible. Below a few paragraphs was another photo, this one a close-up of Kenzie’s signature and the message she’d written out on the newspaper. A special message to us and all of you from Kenzie herself. Below that was the iPhone shots of the girls posing with them. They were so kind and gracious to us! Everything we hoped and knew they would be!
“That’s just insane to me,” Kenzie said as Duncan continued to click through the site. “‘Duckenzie Merch’,” and she lifted her fingers up on either side of her head, feigning quotations. “Stickers with my face on them for everyone!”
“I want stickers with your face on them, too, they better send me some.”
Kenzie made a face at him and Duncan grinned. I mean it, though. I’ll put them on everything I own, I don’t care. I’ll buy every fucking sticker they’ve made. He glanced away from Kenzie’s phone reluctantly, at the face of the black Ballon Bleu Cartier he’d chosen for the inevitable photos that would be taken of him today--different from the silver one he’d worn the night he met Kenzie on the balcony. This one was framed in rose-gold (and the gold reminds me of her). He noted it was a quarter till noon. “We gotta go, baby. They’re expecting us at 12:30. In the Rose Garden, can you believe that?” He smiled at her; roses for my Kenzie. He looked at his Cartier again, thoughtfully, as Kenzie finished her toast and stood to put her plate in the long steel sink, washing her hands, staring at her succulents along the windowsill. He admired her tawny blonde hair, falling down her back from the crown of her head in soft waves. I’m going to get her something to adorn her lovely little wrists. I want to give her more tokens of my love, one for each part of her body. He thought of the rose choker, coiled in one of the drawers in their closet--I’ll strap it to your soft little throat tonight, baby love, I’ll kiss you all along its smooth leather as I plunge into your sweet rosy cunt. He looked up to see she’d turned and was staring at him, and knew she’d heard the thought--the color of her gaze shivered with hidden arousal, that hidden, golden power he knew she had over him. “Anything in my teeth, baby,” was all she said, though, baring them at him. He laughed, delighted at the feigned ferocity in her gaze. “Just your sweet smile.” Kenzie rolled her eyes at him, coming around the side of the island, languidly leaning down on its smooth surface to dip her face towards him, the red lace dress hugging her waist and floating around her beautifully, sending warm waves of tingling longing down his spine. “Mr. Shepherd, you’re infatuated.”
“I love you.” And Duncan pulled her arms insistently into him, burying his face in the crook of her neck, breathing her smell in deeply. How I feel, baby. How I feel with you. Like I can’t help but be sincere. My heart is so full of you there’s no room for anything else.
“Can’t wait for your mother’s head to spin when she sees my dress,” Kenzie’s tone was playful and her hand fell down the side of his hair, her cheek at his temple. He closed his eyes, still pressed against her neck, lost for a moment in the feeling of her little fingers, the pressure of her skin under his eyelashes.
“It’s a Kenzie dress,” he murmured against her. “Not like the other one. This one has you all over it. I love it so much. I think it’s perfect. And whoever’s doing the shoot is going to love it too, I bet.” He leaned up to look at her and her face was suddenly hovering very close to his, her lips whispering over his, her eyes half-lidded, looking down into him.
“I love you, Duncan Shepherd.”
“What did I do to deserve the love of an angel?” He couldn’t stop the words from falling out of his mouth, falling against her lips, hovering so close to him. Her leg was crooked into his thigh, her little stomach breathing against his, his hands pressed insistently into her hair along her back--you fit so sweet and small into my arms, my beloved. I could hold you this way all day, drunk on the scent of you, drunk with your softness. She was wearing the golden-strap heels again, and his hand came around to her foot, trailing over the laces.
“Oh stoppit.”
“I won’t.”
“It’s time for us to go, baby,” Kenzie tried to extract herself from his arms, but Duncan held fast to her, pressing his lips, then the tip of his tongue to the bare skin under her ear. She softened in the tenderness of his mouth; he heard her moans against him and wished the day would fade back into night for them, wished they were in the woods, under a night sky in a hidden forest, wished the world would just leave them be, let him kiss her, turn the sun away from them and bathe them in the shadows of their bed. But no, the world was waiting (Duckenzie, here they come, quick, take a picture), and so was Annette Shepherd. When Kenzie tried to pull away this time, Duncan let go of her, heart bruising at the sudden coldness of his lap. Kenzie slipped her convertible bag over her shoulder from where she’d left it by the penthouse door. “Pass me my phone, baby,” she said, her eyes bright on him. “Let’s go. The sooner we leave the sooner it’s over with.”
Duncan clutched her little gold iPhone, sighing deeply. “Don’t let Annette give you any shit today, baby,” he said, standing and handing it to her, fingers brushing down her wrist, her little face looking up at him, her expression one of aching trust, as he leaned protectively over her. “You’re a Shepherd now too, as far as I’m concerned. If she wants to insist you belong there, we’ll show her that you really do.”
Kenzie’s eyes flashed at him, and she lifted her chin in that defiant way--his throat clenched, head suddenly hazy with adoration. You got it, baby. Duncan barely had time to slip his wallet into the tailored pocket of his slacks before Kenzie clasped his hand in an iron grip, pulling him out the door and down the hallway. You got it, baby.
---------
Duncan remembered his meeting with Claire Underwood tomorrow as Samuel drove them towards the Botanical Gardens--a meeting he had no real idea of how to navigate, considering Annette’s insistence that the President was, in fact, her enemy, therefore the enemy of the company. What can I say to convince her I’m not, he wondered. Especially being unable to disclose that I’m gaining majority share once BIll dies? Nervously, he wondered if it was indeed possible without making her suspicious of him. Maybe meeting with her before Bill’s death wasn’t such a good idea after all. Too late now, Duncan. You’ll have to play like the old Duncan. The one who was ruthlessly loyal to Annette, and Claire Underwood knew it.
Kenzie’s hand was tucked under his thigh, and he glanced at her; she was staring out the window, seemingly admiring the historic Georgetown colonials they drifted past, her little lips mouthing the words to the John Denver Samuel had playing low--you fill up my senses, like a night in a forest, like the mountains in springtime, like a walk in the rain--the lovely dip of her collarbones lifting in her quiet breath against the fitted lace bodice and her diamond moon necklace, the lacy folds of the crimson skirt fanning out around her legs. Her phone was in her lap and he could see the outline of her Instagram profile open on it--2 million followers now. He could see she’d made a new post, featuring the photos of them posing with the two girls from DUCKENZIEFANS. My sweet Kenzie. Duncan made sure she was still distracted by the music and the scene outside her window, then angled his phone up to snap a discreet photo of her--her hair fell beautifully across her shoulder in the sunlight, and her mouth was open a little, mouthing the song, her cheek turned to the side and her eyes lifted away from the shot. On our way to talk to @vanityfair, did you know my @kenzielouwho has a beautiful singing voice? #comeletmeloveyou #letmegivemylifetoyou
Kenzie still hadn’t noticed anything--he could feel the drifting cascade of her thoughts falling against him every few moments, and knew; you really love this song, baby. It’s making you think of me. It’s making me think of you, too. Let me drown in your laughter, let me die in your arms. He opened the browser app and typed cartier.com, highlighting Jewelry, then under COLLECTIONS, he double-tapped LOVE. He chose two bracelets--one band of 18k yellow gold, and another band, also yellow gold, smaller, with 4 brilliant diamonds. He tried to keep his mind quiet as he did, tried to think of his mother and his meeting with Claire Underwood. He finished the order and closed out of the Cartier website--there. All done.
“All done with what, baby?” Kenzie turned to him, blinking. Annie’s Song had ended, and she seemed to resurface from a dream. Duncan noticed that they were a few yards back from pulling up to the Botanical Gardens; he lifted his thigh a little to grasp her hand. “Nothing, baby, just something I had to take care of for work.”
“Hmmmmmm,” Kenzie replied, giving him a suspicious look. “It doesn’t seem like that’s quite right.”
“It’s a surprise, baby.” Get out of my head, let me surprise you, my love.
“Stop buying me things.” He could see she was trying to hide the smile that wanted to fall over her mouth--she pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes at him.
“I won’t.”
“Duncan Shepherd.” She crossed her arms.
“I want to, baby. Please let me.”
She gave him another long look, pouting her lips a little.
“Please, Miss Stone. Let me bring you tribute for your altar.”
Kenzie blushed deeply at that, turning away from him. Duncan leaned down to her little cheek, bringing the hand that wasn’t holding hers tightly up to the dip under her chin, turning her jaw towards him.
“It’s a way I can worship you,” he spoke down to her ear. “Let me worship you, Kenzie.” He felt her shiver under his touch; he dipped his lips down to her skin and let them linger there, closing his eyes, savoring her softness and the sweet scent of her perfume (rose, vetiver, geranium, no, I’ll never tire of it).
“What’s your middle name, baby?” He heard her ask softly. “So I can use it when I’m annoyed with you.” He laughed into her cheek at that and felt it rise as she smiled under his fingers.
“It’s Malcolm. Follower of the Saint. Mom told me it was going to be my first name for awhile, but she decided she wanted it to be Duncan after all. The Warrior. Fearless.”
Kenzie gazed at him for a long moment as the BMW drifted to a stop on the curb. Then she mouthed his name, quietly. “Duncan Malcolm Shepherd. Warrior, follower of the Saint.”
“And what does Mackenzie mean?”
She smiled at him, winsome, charming him, teasing.
“Guess.”
“Fast as a falling star.”
She grinned. “No.”
“Lover of horses.”
She laughed at that. “No.”
“Beautiful as a rose kissed by spring dew at dawn.” He dipped his head to her, breathing along the delicate space between of her neck.
Kenzie looked away from him at that; he saw the shyness fall into her, felt it; the gossamer wave of her affection, the demure tinge of her longing for him.
“Kenzie.”
“It means lovely.” Harris was coming out of the front passenger door, buttoning his jacket, wearing dark sunglasses, stepping to open Kenzie’s door. The partition was floating down. Duncan could see several people walking on the sidewalk outside; some of them were turning, curious, to look at the BMW. He turned back to her, and he and Kenzie stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment; hers with gold discs floating behind the hazel--Duncan thought for an instant he could see his own eyes in her mind, you pierce my spirit with them, she thought, blue like the sky after a storm, the storm you’ve stirred in my soul, the wild love you’ve given me, every kiss and every touch too beautiful for words, every instance of your love a miracle.
“Of course it does,” he breathed.
Kenzie smiled at him. In time I’ll memorize every tiny detail of your face--I’ll remember everything, he thought. Beloved.
Harris opened the door and she slipped away from him, her little golden iPhone clutched in her hand, her hair falling back, the red lace of her skirt sliding off the leather seat. Duncan followed her out, squinting into the summer sunlight. He glanced to where several pedestrians had stopped to watch the car (two middle-aged companions, a man and a woman in professional attire; a younger woman in jogging clothes with a German Shepherd on a leash); there was dawning recognition in their eyes and the jogging girl immediately lifted her phone up. Duncan turned away, annoyed, certain she’d snapped the picture anyway. He reached for Kenzie’s hand as she slipped her round sunglasses over her eyes, and Harris moved in front of her, blocking her from view from the people watching. There were a few more people inside the front gardens to the southwest, and they stared after Duncan and Kenzie with obvious interest, but Duncan was relieved to see that the Rose Garden had a sign on the gate saying it would be closed for maintenance for the day--the “maintenance” in this case being their interview and photocall with Vanity Fair. As they approached they saw a tall Asian woman with very long, straight black hair and razor-cut bangs, in a smart short-sleeved navy blazer, a black v-neck blouse and a pencil skirt, standing at the gate from the other side. She waved to them a little, giving them a small smile, using a key to unlock it; she pulled the gate open and Kenzie and Duncan stepped through, Harris tight on their heels, and the woman locked it securely behind they moved further in, shielded by tall arborvitae bushes.
“River Tsukamoto, staff writer for Vanity Fair.” She reached out a hand first to Duncan, then to Kenzie, who grinned at her. She had a coy, small smile, and very dark eyeshadow and lipstick, almost black, and no accent. “So wonderful to meet you both. Annette arrived a few minutes ago--she’s in hair and makeup. We don’t always do it this way, but she said you have another interview later today--is it okay if we conduct this one as we shoot?”
“That’s fine,” Duncan replied. “Whatever’s easiest for you.”
He gave her a small, close-mouthed smile, and still saw the telltale sag in her features that his smile tended to cause with people. River’s eyes flicked back and forth between him and Kenzie; down the length of Kenzie’s lacy red summer dress, the fall of her tawny hair, up his tall form and the smart cut of his clothing, lingering in his blue eyes and flitting over to Kenzie’s, their depth of green and gold making the other woman blink rapidly. River’s eyes fell to Kenzie’s moon diamond necklace--she seemed to recognize it. We must have an Instagram follower here.
“God, I have to say, you’re both just stunning in person.” The woman’s cheeks turned a deep crimson almost instantly, and she crooked an arm around her stomach. “I have to admit I started following both of your Instas since your relationship became public, they’re just--ugh, I love them.”
Duncan hesitated and Kenzie immediately stepped towards the woman--”What’s yours? I’ll follow you back.” Kenzie was holding her phone up, opening the app.
“Oh, oh my god, yes. It’s just @rivertsukamoto. Ugh, that would be so great.” River smiled again, this time dipping her body down and clenching her fists a little, bouncing in the black open-toed boots she wore--her toes were painted black. “I just loved those photos of you guys at the beach, so gorgeous.” Kenzie grinned up at her. “Thank you, that was a really wonderful day. There, now we’re Insta friends.”
“Right this way--” and River extended her arm, the blush still on her pale cheeks, leading them towards the center of the rose garden, where several stone benches surrounded a fountain, with dozens of rose bushes in different colors and varieties circling all around the courtyard, deep damask red, rosy-white bourbon, burgundy-colored hybrids, creamy york, sunny yellow--a tall sandy-stone building rose ahead of them with pointed turrets and art-deco glass windows. Duncan’s eyes skirted to where there were two trailers set up along one side of the bushes--River ushered them towards the one at the right, opening the door and beckoning them inside, wherein a very large, hairy man in suspenders and combat boots with a very curly mustache, long hair tied in a messy bun, and very glittery eyeshadow greeted them with a screech of delight.
“Alister at your behest, dumplings,” he said, gasping in a high voice. “Duncan Shepherd and Mackenzie Stone, sit down. God, you two are like sweet pastries, Duncan, you’re a chocolate eclair, Miss Kenzie, you’re a little pink macaron. You’re first, prince of the piercing blue eyes. Sit.”
Duncan settled down into the nearest styling chair, and Kenzie settled into one beside him, two circular mirrors mounted against the trailer’s back wall wherein Duncan could see her nervous expression across from him. Alister was washing his hands at a basin sink in the corner, and Duncan saw Kenzie take her phone out, snapping a picture of their two reflections, him side-eyeing her with a bemused expression, the phone angled over her mouth, her eyes skirting back to him. Then Alister was gripping his jaw carefully and pressing a pencil onto his eyelid.
“God, you don’t even really need anything, do you,” the big man spoke down to him in his high, lilting voice. “Your skin is gorgeous. This jaw could cut someone in half. Your eyes are out of control. Your lips are like fucking pillows. Just kill me, honey.” Kenzie was laughing into her hand, her eyes squeezed shut.
“Honey, you don’t even get to laugh, you’re fucking him, that’s not even fair,” Alister pointed the brush in his hand at her in mock-severity, rolling his eyes, turning back to Duncan--this just made Kenzie laugh harder. “God, you smell like a fucking Tom Ford runway, too. And what are you wearing, it fits you like a second skin, oh my fucking god, who does your tailoring?”
“A gentleman never reveals his tailor,” Duncan was trying not to laugh himself; Kenzie’s wild amusement was making him want to jump out of the chair and tackle her with kisses.
“Is he a gentleman?” Alister glanced over at Kenzie, using the brush to swish powder across Duncan’s cheekbone. “I bet he is to you, honey, you little sugar plum.”
Kenzie was coming down from her laughter, brushing tears from the corners of her eyes.
“He is. He’s an angel.”
“Oh shut up. You’re both stupidly beautiful and wildly in love. Sickening. Your Instas are the hottest thing online right now, I saw you taking that photo honey, make sure you tag me, @alisterrichardsstyle.” “I promise I will, thank you, Alister.” Kenzie snorted into her hand again. Seeing her laugh this way made Duncan feel absolutely dazzled. I’m your biggest fan, baby love.
“There.” Alister hadn’t done more than add some dark eyeliner and very light contour to Duncan’s face; Duncan had had this reaction from stylists before, and was used to light “touch-ups” versus any kind of lengthy makeup for shoots. “You honestly didn’t even need that, but keeping up appearances and all that. You might be the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen, baby. And I’ve seen some boys.” Alister moved over to where Kenzie sat, glancing up at him nervously.
“Now, you, little baby angel. Let’s give you some lips to go with that dress, mama.” As Alister worked on Kenzie’s face Duncan couldn’t help but stare--her eyelashes darkened and became longer under his hands, her eyelids painted a iridescent pink, her cheek rosied, her lips dark crimson red to match the lacy dress. Duncan was struck by the romanticism of her hair over her shoulder, the glance she gave him as Alister finished on her--suddenly, my dark fiery goddess of blood-red wine.
“I guess you’re more like a little red box of Valentine’s Day chocolate now, baby,” Alister said to her as he moved the lipstain wand from her mouth. “Stay still while I document.” Alister pulled his phone out of his large pocket and took several snaps of her face from all angles, then moved over to Duncan and did the same thing to him. “Gonna pretend like I created all this beauty myself,” Alister smirked. “You are free to go, my angelic darlings. I shall wave to you from your place in the heavens.” Alister gave them a little bow just as River pulled the door open. “Alister, are you done on them?” Duncan was going over to Kenzie and grasping her hand--they thanked Alister, Kenzie still giggling into her palm.
“Oooooo, gorgeous,” River cooed, staring at them openly. “Annette’s over here.” Duncan’s heart rammed up into his mouth as he saw his mother, her beauty clouded with annoyance (as was her usual with him lately--Duncan remembered how he’d brushed her off the last time he saw her, and her angry texts regarding their living together), staring down at the large screen of her phone, typing quickly. She looked up at them and Duncan saw her clouded gaze darken further at Kenzie’s appearance.
“Mackenzie, what are you wearing.” It wasn’t a question as much as a demand--an angry demand for a satisfying answer.
“Mom, please, lay off her.”
“Duncan, don’t take that fucking condescending tone with me. And you’re living together now, what a fucking joke. Absolutely thoughtless.” Annette stood and her eyes flashed--she wore an asymmetrical black crepe dress with a draped neck, and pointed black stilettos. Today she also wore a gold necklace with three round diamond stones in addition to her customary diamond earrings--more jewelry than Duncan had seen on her since the last photoshoot they’d had, which was several months ago. Her look was undoubtedly, undeviatingly Annette. But what you don’t seem to understand is Kenzie is not going to dress like you. She’s going to dress like her.
“Annette, the paparazzi swarmed my apartment building--” Duncan looked down at Kenzie to see her face creased with anxiety, her little voice distraught, floating up to his ear towards Annette. He could see how much she was trying to keep her temper, and it made him want to shield her from Annette’s cruelly dark eyes.
“Then you find another fucking apartment, sweetie,” Annette snapped at her, and he felt Kenzie flinch in his hand, as if she wanted to run away from the scene. No, baby, no, remember what I said. Show her who’s boss. You’re the boss now, Kenzie. You’re in charge. You belong here. Show her.
Annette was openly sneering at Kenzie now, her eyes taking on that unnerving, deeply dark sheen they’d had over dinner at Plume. River was standing by nervously, not speaking, seemingly afraid to butt into the sudden vehemency of Annette’s manner--a photographer, camera in hand, a woman with boxy glasses and salt-and-pepper hair, had come up to her and whispered in her ear, and she was hurriedly whispering back, head turned towards the encounter. Clouds had drifted over the sun while they were in the trailer, and it suddenly seemed as though it might rain--yeah, really fucking rain, Duncan thought. Kenzie suddenly gripped his hand so hard it hurt, and he flinched, looking down at her--her eyes were staring into Annette’s, and they were swirling with the gold sheen usually saved for him alone--a sheen so bright it almost hurt him to look into them. Her other hand had come around to grip at the diamond moon around her neck, tightly, so tight he could see her fingers turning red. His head snapped up to his mother’s face; she seemed caught inside Kenzie’s whirling gaze, and her own took on a dazed expression, as though she were trying to remember something she’d forgotten.
“Duncan and I are together now. You can’t tear us apart.” Kenzie’s voice was trembling at first--then, it evened and soothed, and became very clear. “Please accept my presence in his life, Annette. He’s told you this before: your disapproval will not end our attachment. But it will bring him sadness. And it will bring you sadness, too.” Kenzie’s voice was mesmerizing in this moment; Duncan remembered flashes of the vision of her last night, a vision that seemed to be slowly fading from his understanding in the fabric of reality; the Kenzie with white hair that had flowers like little universes, eyes like whirling cosmic vistas, a gown made of the intricate geometries of some unknown intergalactic fiber, wings of some unfathomable divinity. This voice is like the voice of that Kenzie. That Kenzie is afraid of no earthly being. The air suddenly felt very heavy, as though a thunderstorm were about to begin.
“Please, don’t direct your anger on us anymore.” Duncan felt Kenzie’s hand grow strangely cold for a moment--cold, then surge back into warmth, like hot water dumped over ice. Her grip on him relaxed--the heavy feeling in the air seemed to dissipate, and he took a deep breath.
The clouds moved a little from their place over the sun, slowly allowing it to peek out again. Annette was strangely quiet--her expression had changed from one of anger to the dazed expression of confusion to one that now seemed to have forgotten her anger entirely; her annoyance remained, but it was less pointed towards Kenzie, now directed at River and the photographer standing to the sidelines. They didn’t seem to really understand or recall what had just happened--River was blinking rapidly, as though disoriented from a loud sound.
“What are we all standing around for?” Annette barked at her. “Are we doing this or not? I have a full schedule today, Ms. Tsukamoto.”
“Kenzie,” Duncan leaned down to her, his lips to her ear. “What did you do?”
“I--I don’t know,” she whispered, looking at Annette. Duncan’s mother was moving away from them, talking to River with a clipped voice. The photographer was interjecting, pointing to the fountain and gesturing. “I think...I just told her to stop. Stop being the way she’s being to us, to me and you, to us being together. I think it was like...a kind of command. Baby, I don’t know.” Kenzie was pressing a hand against her forehead, breathing slowly through her nose, out through her mouth, her red lips shining in the afternoon sun.
“Okay, baby. Okay. Let’s get through this, okay? We can do this.” He soothed his thumb over her hand. Kenzie nodded, weakly. He led her over to where Annette was now sitting by the fountain.
“Hey, I’m Anna Peterson.” The photographer approached them, peering at them over her glasses, pushing a hand through her hair. She seemed either unfazed by what had just happened, or seemed to have forgotten it entirely. Kenzie was still pressing her hand on her forehead, but Duncan nodded to her.
“You two are...really something. I have to get some shots of the two of you alone, I think. We’ll do something with Annette while River’s conducting the interview, but I’d love for you to pose for me a few times together without her. If that’s alright with you.”
“Is that okay, Kenz?” Duncan looked down at her. She nodded a little. He turned to Anna. “Do you have any water bottles?” Anna trotted over to one of the trailers and emerged a few moments later with an unopened plastic water bottle, handing it out to Kenzie. Kenzie reached for it with shaking hands; Duncan grasped it, opening it for her. “Thanks baby,” she whispered, sipping at it carefully. River was already asking Annette questions--Duncan felt weary at the prospect of trying to lie about his intentions for the company, and the longer he could put it off today, probably for the better. Anna eyed them both again--Duncan noted how impatient she seemed to start with the camera on them, fiddling her fingers over its black-and-silver surface, hopping from side to side--and said “How about we do a couple shots right now? Just some warm-up stuff. How about over here?” She gestured with one hand to where groups of blushing bourbon roses were clustered in two adjacent bushes, about a yard away from where River and Annette were going back and forth, Annette’s clipped voice carrying over to them.
Duncan nodded, gently pulling Kenzie in front of one of the bushes, to a spot of partial shade under an oak tree that grew beside them--she still clutched the water bottle in one hand, and Duncan could see the moisture gathering along the outside trembling as the bottle shook in her unsteady grip. Anna was already snapping away, having started as soon as he and Kenzie began to move; Duncan kept his hand threaded through hers, thinking soft waves of love towards her. I don’t know what you did to Mom, Kenz, but it worked. It’s like she forgot we’re even here. It was like the power we pushed over her at dinner, but even stronger. I think the powers we can use, whatever the fuck they are, whatever they mean--I think they’re getting stronger. I think we can direct them better, control them better. Kenzie set the water bottle down in the crook of the oak tree’s roots, and came close to him, her hands reaching out for him. Duncan couldn’t stop himself; he pressed his palm against her jaw, heard the furious clicking of Anna’s camera.
I still don’t really know what I did though, baby. Kenzie was looking up at him, her hazel eyes drifting into different colors as the clouds partially obscured the sun again--Anna paused for a moment, and said “God, that’s lovely, just keep doing that, the way you’re looking at each other, Duncan, keep touching her that way,” towards them. Their bodies were leaning close; the roses framed behind them. Gladly, he thought. I’ll gaze at you and hold you all day, angel baby. Kenzie seemed to be calming, the trembling running down from her limbs. Duncan moved his hands down to hold Kenzie at the waist--she pressed into him, sighing, her chin angling up. Gaze away, her gold thought drifted against him. I love you so. In your eyes I am content. They’re home.
“Mackenzie, look over here.” The camera was snapping rapidly, repeatedly. Kenzie glanced to Anna--almost involuntarily, it seemed, she laid her temple against Duncan’s chest, and his hand came up against her hair--he gazed down at the aureate crown of her golden-chestnut hair and pressed his lips against it as she glanced over at Anna, her little red lips parted just slightly, her eyes shining with the damp residue of her emotions. Duncan savored the warmth of her despite the hotness of the day, the feeling of the lace of her dress under his fingers, the dip of her waist, the cascade of her hair, the heady scent of her. You’re my home too, baby. You’re the resting place of my soul.
“Wow,” Anna said. She seemed to have forgot about them, in a sense; seemed to be thinking about the photos rather than their physical presence. “That’s going to be a final shot for absolute certain.” Kenzie turned her face into him now, her eyes fluttering closed, overwhelmed; Duncan looked to Anna’s camera now, and couldn’t stop the protective wave that fell over him, his resentment towards the world around them that didn’t seem to grasp how extraordinary Kenzie was, how luminously beautiful within, brighter than a hundred other souls combined, how desperately she had to be protected from anyone who would wish her harm, how divine it was that her spirit was on earth at all. “Gorgeous, gorgeous, fuck, perfect,” Anna was murmuring, coming around their right side. “Like a fairy tale. Your eyes, Duncan, they’re like sharp little polished sapphires. Hold that pose for me, please.” Kenzie looked up at him; they really are, she thought to him. They are like sapphires. I love your eyes, baby.
And your eyes are like autumn leaves dusted with golden evening lights. She pulled away from him, grinning in embarrassment--Duncan clutched at her arms, pulling her back to him, pressing his lips into the bottom of her jaw as he lifted her little body up to him, Anna clicking her camera all the while. No baby, let me. Let me tell you how beautiful you are, Kenzie. Let me tell you and know how sincerely I mean it, my body and soul aching for you, hungry for you every minute. Please know how much I love you.
I know baby, I know. And I love you--so much. So fucking much. So much it’s almost hard to look at you, to feel all that love from you, because I feel like the love I feel for you and the love I feel coming from you is so great--together, it’s like they’re going to burst my heart into a thousand pieces.
Let it burst, then. Mine will too. The fragments of both of us will still find each other again. I’d find you if you were at the opposite end of the universe, baby. I’d search for you until I found you. I swear on everything. On my life, on my death, on every star. I promise. I would fucking find you. His hands were threading through her hair, their lips not quite touching but their mouths hovering near each other; Duncan resurfaced from the intoxicating nexus of her, glancing over at Anna again; the older woman was gaping openly at them, her camera hovering in her hands, forgotten. Then she shook her head as if to clear it, and nodded at him, mouthing the word again. Perfect.
------
The interview, so far as it concerned him and Kenzie, went surprisingly smoothly--whatever influence Kenzie had had on Annette seemed to extend through the remainder of their time with River and Anna; the photographer took several shots of them around the fountain, Duncan standing behind his mother in one with Kenzie sitting in the opposite direction, and another with Kenzie and Duncan sitting together and Annette standing, her gaze off to the side. Duncan wondered with mounting impatience what the photos would look like when the article was released; wondered if by the time it was published it wouldn’t already be obsolete in context. Annette had already given answers to several questions from River regarding the company that Duncan knew were not entirely accurate or truthful--and answers he knew would not coincide with the new model for the company when he gained majority share. Duncan knew Kenzie was getting glimpses of his inner frustration as the afternoon wore on; she would glance at him with concern deep in her eyes, and reach for his hand, her lips pressing together. Better not to talk much anyway, baby, she said to him, secretly; that way you won’t be branded a liar later. And Annette can’t pretend like you went along with all of this just to turn on her. I’m with you, baby. We should talk to Momby soon about the board of directors. I’m sure she’ll say yes. We’re going to make it through all of this--and then we’ll have our whole lives ahead of us.
Her voice inside his head had soothed him as the afternoon wore on, and by the time River was turning off her recorder and closing her notes, Annette seemed to be in a mood that could almost approach good for once. She was glancing down at her phone with a neutral expression; then, it seemed to cloud again as she received a text. Kenzie had been whispering into his ear, giggling over Claire asking if Harris was single, trailing kisses along his skin there. Annette looked up at him, and he knew something was wrong.
“Your uncle’s been taken to the hospital again.” She was standing, her lips pressing in a thin line, the clouds having returned strongly overhead--this time they seemed to be here to stay, having multiplied and extended over the sky, so the day was no longer bright or as hot. Annette’s hand was coming up to brush her hair off her shoulder, and her expression became unreadable, dark, hidden. “I have to meet him there. We’ll have to postpone the Forbes interview.”
“Mom, I could do it without you--”
“No. I don’t think so.” She seemed to falter for a moment, her eyes skirting over to Kenzie beside him, who was staring back at her solemnly, sympathy in her hazel eyes. Kenzie forgives you for everything, I know she does. She always does. She wants to be your friend. She wants to be a daughter to you. I know that, even if she won’t say it, won’t really say it, not yet, not even to me. Annette’s tone wasn’t angry and incredulous, as it had been--now, it was tinged with a sort of weary resignation, and a hidden sadness that she refused to show outwardly. “I think perhaps it’s better to cancel it entirely. There’s too much happening in the company right now to give a business-forward interview, anyway. With the company itself soon to be in such flux--it seems unwise. This one is done, besides.” Annette suddenly looked very tired. Duncan reached out to his mother--she gripped under his arms, and he knew in a rush how badly she had wanted to touch him, then. Knew that she was mourning his uncle already, in her heart of hearts, a heart she never showed to anyone but him, and then only in rare flashes that seemed to disappear right after the instant they emerged.
“Mom. I love you.”
“My sweet Duncan.” River and Anna had gone away, back to one of the trailers, and Harris stood with his mother’s bodyguard, Becket, a huge, menacing man who rarely spoke, at the far edge of the garden by the gate, too far away to hear any conversation from the distance; the Rose Garden had grown oddly quiet, the only sounds the drift of the summer wind and the trickle of the water, and Kenzie was sitting on the fountain beside where he and his mother stood, staring at the ground, her hair falling down her shoulders, her hand clutching at the moon pendant at her throat. As he glanced at her he could see that she had tears gathered in the corners of her eyes--he glanced back at his mother, caught between their emotions.
“You were always such a perceptive, sensitive child.” Annette was loosening her grip on his arms, stepping back from him. “I fought to steel your nerves for the world outside. It’s cruel and unkind and ruthlessly hard, and I knew it would crush you if I didn’t prepare you for it. I’m sorry if I...I’m sorry if I have sometimes been cold to you. I tried to...I tried to protect you. I have tried to. You had to be fearless to survive this world, and I knew it, and I became obsessed with my need to prepare you. I wonder if I--” she turned her face to look over his shoulder, into Kenzie’s eyes--seemed to notice the tears there. “I wonder if I’ve been too stubborn regarding certain...things. As your uncle worsens, I...”
Annette’s eyes grew misty--she smiled, but the smile was achingly sad to him.
“I wonder if I haven’t confused the things that truly matter with what seemed to for so long.”
Duncan watched, his body going stiff with shock, as Annette went around him and reached down to Kenzie with one shaking hand. I’ve never seen Mom shake like that. It’s my uncle. Bill’s dying. He’s really dying. And I think she just realized that. Really realized it, and began to accept it. He’s going to die very soon.
Kenzie reached up to her--as their fingers grasped each other, Duncan watched (felt) the golden wave of Kenzie’s energy (her attention, her kindness, her goodness, her love) fall down over his mother in its quiet, cascading swell. Annette sighed--the sigh seemed to be tinged with surprise, as though whatever she was receiving from Kenzie was moving beyond words, tinged with too much feeling to resist. Duncan couldn’t quite glimpse it in its entirety--it seemed to be a secret of some kind that Kenzie passed into his mother, something for her and her alone. Duncan felt another sharp wave of shock as he watched Annette lean down to Kenzie’s little cheek and kiss it, a tiny, short peck of her lips to the soft skin of his beloved’s sweet face. The kiss, he knew instantly, was sincere.
And then the moment passed, and Annette walked away from them, towards Becket and the gate, slipping her dark sunglasses over her eyes, shielding him and Kenzie from her emotions entirely. The big man ushered her through the gate, and they were lost from view.
“Dunny,” Duncan heard Kenzie’s little voice before he turned to her, heard the tears in it, and they weren’t tears of sadness, not really--they’d become tears of relief, he saw as he looked into her eyes, their whirling gold telling him clearly, and he rushed to her and gathered her up in his arms, and she was so small and her body shook against him, and Duncan touched her cheek where his mother had kissed her, and it seemed to burn under his fingers, burn like it had been held close to a flame, and he held her among the quiet roses, the sweet-scented summer wind falling against them, and the moment soothed and dissolved, and they lingered in it for a long while.
#duckenzie#body and soul#millory#duncan x mackenzie#body and soul au#body and soul fic#body and soul fanfic#fuckenzie lol#love to the millorys#love my duckenzies so fucking much#duckenzies#duncan shepherd x mackenzie stone#duncan shepherd#duncan shepherd au#house of cards au#ahs apocalypse au#millory au#millory fic#house of cards#collie#cody x billie#officialcodysfallenangels#icouldrun#a reminder that if you want me to tag you when i post chapters of body and soul let me know and i will duckenzies#my fic#michael x mallory#duncan shepherd x mallory
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ALTON ADVENTURES BIG ANNOUNCEMENT
So...because its Friday and I usually update AA on Fridays, I figured it was time to make my big announcement!
And that is...that Alton Adventures is changing. A little bit.
Am I rebooted the comic again? No haha! Once I get back to it it shall continue as normal but some characters may look a bit different going forward.
Who may those characters be?
Sir Gareth Nemesis
Why is he changing?
Sir Nemesis’ change is actually less drastic than one may think. For starters, he needed a design rehaul. I wanted his armor to be more simple, easier to draw but with still details that could tie him to Nemesis (the green eye, the arms, the light pink details instead of inconsistent tentacles). I also had an issue where his hair was too close to his skin color, so to combat this I turned him into a ginger! His eye color also changed from gold to green, another thing to visually tie him more to Nemesis.
So yes, I changed Sir Nem’s design because I was unhappy with it. His armor was never drawn consistently ever, I was constantly changing the tone of his hair and his skin so that was inconsistent. I want my designs to be more consistent and polished going forward.
What else is different? Well, you can probably tell he looks much more serious, like in older pictures I drew of him. Why is that? Well, I was kind of..honestly tired of his role as the “dad character tm” that he kind of turned out to be. It almost undermined his true characterization and turned him into a typical over the top exaggerated hero character. And I started to realize how much I missed his original concept. A battle hardened solider that was filled with regret and remorse, who heavily sympathizes with the plight of the alien he’s locked in combat with. He’s still much a father however, as he has a biological son and adopts an alien who mimics his likeness (hence another reason he’s a ginger now as his Nemesis daughter always was one). He’s just returned to his roots as a character. Because I felt that characterization was a unique one for the Nemesis ride. And it was an idea I really loved. Sir Nemesis actually WAS one of my favorite characters...I wanted his role to be much larger than it is in the comics. I don’t blame anyone for him becoming a joke, I did initially kind of fuel the fire for it, I’m just hoping that its not to late to get back to the Sir Nemesis I originally wanted to write. And of course, all my characters are still meme and joke worthy. I just want to tackle much more serious issues with my comic and show the more serious side of some of my characters and don’t want there entire existence to be a joke Mr.S can’t have too many folks 1 uping him in the laughs department! I guess to note with this change that his original voice claim has also been solidified as well. It’s a more somber and serious tone that I feel fits him as a character.
Final Notes
Sir Nemesis is a character that I have a lot of thought put into. His backstory is tragic, emotional, and his character is complex and he’s not the perfect hero people might image him as. I plan for his Arc to follow the Fireworks arc in the comic, as well as I am planning to start some more text heavy short stories about how the Secret Weapons became Secret Weapons (which I will likely call Secret Weapon Short Stories hehe) and will be writing his first. Also a very important thing i must address. Yes, the eye on his chest moves. (I have a gif but it doesn’t want to work on this post Ill have it up later ><)
Erica Annabelle Cloud
ooof okay this is a huge one. Confession time. Erica was always my least favorite character. Why? She just had...no character. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with her, her design felt phoned in and there because I needed an Air/Galatica character, (yes, she is changing as her Galatica stage too). She was just. not well thought out. She had a dual identity but I think a lot of people didn’t pick up on that? She felt like a Rita 2.0 as just a nice and friendly optimistic person and literally had 0 backstory. Originally she was supposed to have had some sort of accident that turned her into Galatica and she had memory loss and forgotten about when she was Air, yeah it was a mess. That eventually just turned into Nebula Corona being a character she made up (bc her one trait was that she was into space and wrote a lot) that she played as when her rides themeing changed.
She was just..barely a character and her design was abysmal (Her Galatica suit was okay but her Air outfit was an afterthought) She needed a massive visual upgrade. A sleeker flight suit that makes more sense (I used a ref or two for this design!) A different face shape to help her stand out more, my signature they wear glasses they have dot eyes look. Long, wispy, flowing hair to resemble those trails planes make. A bit more lanky and tall. And let me tell you I LOVE her design now. It looks so much more unique and you can just SEE she has so much more character now!
As for her characterization im going full into her being a nerd. A very tech nerd at that! She designed her suit to help her fly at her best, and eventually will be the one that designs and builds all her Galatica tech! Her Galatica design hasn’t been done yet, mostly bc I wanted to focus on her current comic canon design, but not much would change I feel with her upgrade anyways! She is effectively the brains of the group, and the others often turn to her for plans of attack when dealing with a situation, or innovative solutions to problems! I have yet to get a voice claim for her, but im sure one will come to me soon enough!
Final Notes
Erica/Nebula was a character I struggled to connect with. Everyone else had Airs that were either super plot important, or just much more cool and creative in general. I felt, that with my Air/Galatica she was just there, and I wanted her to be more. So a full character rehaul was done with her and it makes me so happy. She feels much more fleshed out, better designed, and I’m super excited to do more stuff with her, and hopefully you will all see her much more now that I’m a lot happier with her as a character! <3
Welp that's the end of the updates....wait. Hold on. I have something written here. What could this be? Oh! I remember now!
Black Hole, AkA Beatrix, will be joining the MAIN CAST of Alton Adventures!
When I drew my Black Hole design, I knew she was something special. She stands out compared to a lot of my characters, and her design SCREAMS main character. While the biggest main roles will still be held by Mr. S and Rita, I wanted to add another non SW coaster to the main crew, and because Canonically Corkscrew is MIA, Black Hole seemed like a fitting addition to the main crew! As she isn’t human, a species literally only referred to as Black Holes, I thought making her a main character and giving her a big arc would help flesh out the reality of non humans in Alton Adventures! Her powers and design and character and personality are just too fun to shove her into the background. I feel that adding her to the main cast gives them not only another character to support them, but a closer friend! You will all see her much more in the future for certain!
Well that's about it! In terms of comic updates themselves...its still going to be hiatus as long as I’m being swamped with school work. I hope you all understand. I’ll try to squeeze in updates over the breaks I have IF im not working on assignments for class. As I also said, I wanna do short stories as well, to expand the world and explain it better, as a comic will only develop the world so quickly and lots of you have tons of questions! I also wanna do something animated at some point, that’s my dream. I’ve ALSO mentioned to some people about merch, likely going for making stickers first since that's simple. I got an excited reaction for that so I’ll come up with designs for them soon! I just wanna do a lot with Alton Adventures, because I know how much it means to people, and of course it means so much. Goodness I really need to actually get to this park, I look quiet silly constantly gushing over a themepark I’ve never been to all the time XP
That all aside I thank you all for sticking by me. I promise that even if I don’t do comic updates as frequently during the school year, I’ll still work to push out as much AA content I can outside of that! I’m always open to suggestions to what you guys want to see! ALSO, working on a big google doc spreadsheet with info on all the characters I’ll be posting when its more completed! So be on the lookout for that!
Again thank you to everyone who’s stuck with me through this, Your support makes me feel nothing but proud of what I’ve created. These characters may have been created out of something some may consider silly or odd, but the only thing that matters to me if that I can make at least someone happy with what I create.
Patreon (note that patrons got to see all of this content as it was being worked on!) l Ko-fi
#gonna probably post the images all in image posts later#for now have this#alton towers#alton adventures#nemesis#air#i like totally redid forbidden valley didnt i huh#sir gareth nemesis#beatrix#odin miller#mr. s#rita ferraro#erica cloud#esther forest#big update#long post
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This submission is quite different from the others, as you can probably tell by the mass of poorly stitched together drawings. The thing is, there are some times where I go through the whole drawing and coloring process, only to dislike what comes out the other end. For some reason I fail to notice my distaste for the piece during any point of its production, only realizing that I hate it when all is said and done. It can also happen long after the picture is drawn. Due to my extremely overloaded posting lineup, a lot of my drawings sit for months until they see the light of day. During that time, I may look them over and find that I didn't do a good enough job the first time, and choose to go for a redraw or recolor. These designs and colorings that I dislike are then shelved and shunned, until today. After amassing quite a few failures, I thought it would be neat to post them all just to show the cavalcade of poor decisions. Not everything you make is perfect, but failures and victories are the bricks that pave the path to progress!
Some of these pieces may seem familiar, as their redone designs have been posted long ago. Regardless, I feel like talking about them, so here is an explanation of what they are and why I hate them! (Starting at the top, left to right)
Pelicairn: This one wins the award for "Design that has Forgotten the Entire Point." The entire reason I was designing the pelicairn was to make an ambush-predator bird that lived in rocky places. I thought a pelican was a fitting species, and the idea of a bird hiding as a rock seemed pretty fun. What came out instead was some saurian monstrosity that couldn't possibly function the way I had intended. For some reason I thought it would fold up nicely into a fake boulder, but the design was an absolute bust. So I went back to the drawing board and came up with the more practical and way cuter bird
Nerve Pincher: An attempt at an update for a super old design, this one flopped completely when I saw how flat and boring it turned out. The serpentine nature of the beast was lost in a fatter look and the colors didn't seem to work out well. No real update has been posted for it yet, but I have been working to rectify this mistake.
Thunder Bird: This design ran into the same problem as the Pelicairn, as it came out too lanky and stretched out. I had wanted to fuse a parrot and a giant ground sloth, but I wound up taking too much ground sloth and made it look awkward. All the other elements seemed right, but the skeleton was all wrong. Thankfully I fixed it with a more squat, hunched powerhouse that looked like it could carry the title Thunderbird
The Greedy Pudding Bear: A rather weird beast that came completely out of nowhere, this version was aiming to fit the size of a mascot costume, but the final result didn't grab me. It was too small and it didn't give a gross enough silhouette. The fixed version did a better job making it more monstrous and repulsive.
The Scorched: A design and concept I have fully tossed away at the moment, these things were supposed to be the dryad equivalent of demons. A burnt husk of a being that was wreathed in ash and flame. Drawn a couple of years ago, I feel it looks worse every time I take a look at it. Really sloppy and not all that good looking. May revisit it, but I am not confident on that.
Aconstrum: Speaking of dryads and their monster equivalents, the Aconstrum was a design I wrestled with for a good while. How on earth do you make plant werewolves? My first answer was to try and give it a "fur" equivalent, coating the thing in leaves and vines. The problem I ran into, though, was that there was too much green and it looked quite messy. The final version of the Aconstrum fixed this by replacing vines with petals and ditching the green entirely for brown, gnarled bark.
Stalked Men: Recognize these guys? Originally called Stalked Devils, these critters were traced over to create the Stalked Men, and for good reason. The reason being that their original color scheme was absolutely terrible. Dull reds and browns and utterly drab. I was trying to get the look of real-life stalk-eyed flies but failed miserably. They looked much like my Giant Ants, and it didn't fit at all with creatures that live in the jungle. They needed color! Pzazz! The new color scheme for the Stalked Men thankfully rectified that bland look.
Undead....thing: Had ideas for a concept and it came out poorly. Not much to say on this guy. I liked a lot of parts of him, but the whole piece just seemed blah and sloppy. Working to see if this can be salvaged.
Vilicity: The one of her two color schemes that I debated using, and wound up discarding this one. This look was to give her an armored appearance, or something slightly inorganic. The grey worked well with making the pink flesh pop, but the crazy blue design ended up winning me over. I felt it gave her a more alien appearance (though this grey one could be considered more Alien, har har!) and made her stand out a lot more.
Quite the cavalcade of failures, but I am sure they won't be the last!
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A transcription of the english subtitles (+ a summary and some screencaps) of a part one of a two-part NJPW documentary/interview about Hiroshi Tanahashi, circa 2014. Part 2 is Here
Teaser:
(the opening shot is Tana standing in an elevator)
Hiroshi Tanahashi (referred to from this point on as HT): I'm not tired. I never get tired.
(he pretends to fall asleep on his feet, with his head resting against the wall)
(there's a little introductory sequence, subtitled with the idea behind the documentary - a look at Tana's then-15-years in wrestling, his love of it, and his love of the fans. My favourite clip is when a little girl he's holding for a photo kisses his cheek and he throws his head back like “Oh! You got me!”)
(a close-up, Tana is standing in the sun, talking)
HT: Well, it's been...15 years since I began my career and I'm happy that I've never grown to hate pro wrestling.
(the theme of the documentary is “Why I love pro wrestling” because if anybody deserves a title worthy of a painfully earnest gradeschool paper, it's Tana)
(Tana is walking in the rain at night. His gait is strange, swaying, like he's always going downhill or is afraid his shoes will fall off)
Caption: New Japan Pro Wrestling holds over 130 events a year. He posts about NJPW whenever he gets a spare moment.
(somewhere overlooking a road, Tana is standing outside. It's still raining. During Tana's monologue, footage of him attending various promotional events plays; Tana on camera, Tana chatting next to Yoshitatsu)
Caption: His hectic schedule
HT: I asked for this situation. Nobody asked me. I just wanted to liven pro wrestling up. You may think it's livened up now, but I still don't see the top of the mountain. Even if it's going well right now, I won't cease my efforts. I must keep going. As I continue promoting, I've been blessed with various offers. I just feel grateful and happy seeing people exited about and craving pro wrestling. Nothing makes me happier.
(the footage switches to a DVD release event at Tower Records; Tana is onstage with Hiroyoshi Tenzan, Togi Makabe, and two gentlemen I don't recognize. The Blonde One is chatting with Tana, I'm gonna represent his dialogue with “TBO” until I know otherwise)
Caption: Part three of “Gekijo Pro-Wrestling” DVD release party at Tower Records
TBO: How was part Three?
HT: The venue was Namba Grand Kagetsu, a holy place for comedians in Osaka. In addition to young comedians, many big-name comedians appear there.
TBO: That's right.
HT: I was overwhelmed.
TBO: Though the young comedians performed freely,
(HT: hai)
TBO:...a legendary comedian was unable to perform.
HT: So the roles were reversed.
TBO: He was too nervous.
(we switch back to outside, where Tana is fiddling with his phone)
Caption: Tanahashi keeps the world posted. Even while filming, he writes on his blog as always.
HT: I'm posting on my blog. I like writing.
Interviewer: Have you gotten used to your smartphone?
HT: Not yet.
Interviewer: How long have you been using it?
HT: About a week.
Interviewer: How do you like it?
HT: It's super handy.
Caption: He used to stick to a flip phone
HT: The other day, I went to the office and boasted “I can type so fast.” And an assistant said, “You're three years behind.” (laughs)
Interviewer: What made you finally get one?
HT: One reason was that my old flip phone was worn out. Also, my jobs were hindered because I couldn't open attachments.
Interviewer: Your jobs as a writer?
HT: Yeah, but this is really fast.
Caption: In 2014, his words were published in book form.
(interior shot, Tana walking in a cluttered white room carrying his book. He grins at the camera and points to it)
Caption: November 18th, the NJPW offices
(Tana sits down with Koji Uno, an editor with R25 magazine. They greet and introduce one another, then sit down.
HT: This is our second time, right?
KU: Yes.
(Closeup on Tana's book, the caption reads "How Hiroshi Tanahashi Suceeded in Reconstructing New Japan Pro Wrestling")
KU: I wanted to feature you in our magazine after I read your book. I felt the title was like a business book, and it was actually very interesting.
HT: Thank you.
HT (in voiceover, again from outside): It's a great non-fiction book. A positive side- effect of the book is that it reached a new audience for pro wrestling. Also thanks to the book, major mass media outlets, newspapers, and business websites began to interview me. So I'm glad it got published.
(back inside, where Uno is taking notes as Tana speaks)
HT: Well, I like novels. When I was in high school, I was into Yasuo Uchida's Mitsuhiko Asami series. Asami pilots the Soarer. He isn't married and he's laid-back...
(outside in the rain again)
Caption: Tanahashi is delighted to have a hectic work schedule. Is it because he endured the hard period dubbed the 'Dark days'?
HT: Looking back, it wasn't tough at all because everything was rewarding. I promoted pro wrestling and more people came to enjoy it. I really love it when they say, “It was fun!” People tend to compare the dark days with the current situation, but my activities never changed and will never change.
(an exterior shot of a glass skyscraper)
Caption: November 15th, Shosen Book Tower Akihabara. His 15th anniversary DVD release party will be held on this day. 30 minutes before the event, what is drawing his focus?
(A close-up of Tana's face; he looks urgently focused on something. His face keeps contorting; whatever it is, it’s Serious Business. The shot pans back...Tana is playing on his DS lol)
Interviewer: Is that for relaxation during long tours?
HT: I enjoy this during tours. Since I don't have time to go out, I automatically save money. (he looks a bit sheepish) Sometimes I play too much, and it affects my health. (laughs)
Caption: 10 minutes before the event, the meeting finally begins.
(Another white room, with three people inside. One has a lanyard on, one is at a table with a pen, and Tana is seated before a mirror with a flatiron, fiddling with his bangs. They're going over itinerary for the event)
Staff: Then the selected match...
Caption: The DVD includes Famous Tanahashi Quotes.
Staff: “Tanahashi that doesn't fly is just a good-looking guy.”
(Tana starts laughing)
HT: Is that on there?
Staff: Yes.
HT: When did I say that? (still laughing)
Staff: Before your match with Kojima-san
HT (recalling): Right, I couldn't do my High Fly because of my knee injury.
Staff: You were wearing the black shorts.
HT (repeating it to himself): “A Tanahashi that doesn't fly is just a good-looking guy.” I'm still good-looking. (laughs)
Staff: And still boasting.
(A quick-cut. Tana is still backstage, every time we make a cut he's got less buttons done up on his shirt. His whole undershirt has vanished. He's taking a huge bite out of some kind of pastry; it has a fish design on the top)
HT (noticing the camera): Ah!
Caption: A rare sight of Tanahashi enjoying a treat during his busy day
HT: Yum. I was trying to sneak this, but you caught me. (laughs)
Staff: You shouldn't eat that. Maybe just a bite.
HT: The event starts in two minutes.
(Tana laughs and takes another huge bite. With his mouth full, he says “Yummy!” Staff are scurrying around)
Staff: Did you eat lunch?
HT: Yes I did. A fan gave me these when I came in. (he indicates a white box with two other ...fish pastry things..inside) So good!
Staff: Are you ready?
HT (dramatically): It's time.
Staff (the woman looks exhausted; she was probably in charge of keeping his buttons up): This way.
HT: Okay.
Caption: To the venue where his fans await
(Tana walks through dimly-lit hallways, there are boxes piled up everywhere. We see the emcee of the event welcoming fans. There are over a hundred in attendance. As we cut back to the other room, Tana's music starts playing out in the venue. Tana's buttons are now entirely undone.)
Caption: Backstage, for some reason he bares his chest.
(Tana is laughing at his own ridiculousness)
Caption: Then, something unexpected happens...
HT: Hey! For real??
(the fans have started singing “Happy Birthday”; Tana's birthday was two days after this was filmed. Tana looks like a kid at christmas, and claps along with the song a little bit. Everyone yells happy birthday. There's an explosion of giggles as soon as everyone can see him with his inexplicably undone buttons. The emcee, Haruo Murata, greets Tana)
HM: As you can see, we started with a birthday surprise.
HT (grinning but also blushing like an anime character): Look at me. How embarrassing...I was supposed to make you laugh. Thank you.
HM: And here's a cake for you.
(The little vanilla-frosting cake has 1/100 on top)
HT: Ah, my nickname.
(another explosion of giggles. Tana picks the cake up and holds it for a second. “One blow” he pledges, and blows his candles out. Everybody yells happy birthday again, and Tana thanks them.)
HM: This is a great photo opportunity.
HT (sheepishly): Let me do up my buttons.
(the event begins in earnest; Tana turns up the charm and starts chatting with Murata, and telling stories)
HT: It's been 43 years since NJPW was founded...and 60 years since pro wrestling began, which means a better wrestler than me won't appear for another 40 years.
HT: I think it was 2007 when I became the G1 winner, and I was wearing black shorts...a reporter from TV Asahi asked me why I was wearing them, I answered, “Because it's sexy. Shorts are sexier.” (to the audience) But that's not what fans want, right?
HM: How did the reporter react?
HT (laughing): I don't remember. Maybe like “Ok..?” I used to bother them a lot.
(quick cut to the photo op portion of the event. People keep bringing him birthday presents, and giggling. He chats a little with everybody and takes pictures with them. A little tiny girl gives him a present and declares "He's a prince!" before he picks her up for a photo; her mother carefully places electric pink birthday sunglasses on Tana's head for the picture)
Caption: He keeps a hectic pace to please his fans. He says he owes all that to his family's support.
(we're outside again, with Tana in the rain)
Caption: Gratitude to his family
HT: I'm always out for training, promotion, and matches. The only thing I can do is try to make the most of the time when I can be with my family. I feel bad for making my wife and kids miss me. My wife always prepares me well-balanced meals...and my kids always give me a big welcome yelling “Dad!” when I return from tours. I'm so lucky to have them.
(nightfall, after the event. Tana exits a back gate but as soon as he's visible, there's shrieking from the street. Tana says “Whoa.”)
Caption: Tanahashi willingly grants fans requests right until he leaves.
(there's a little crowd of mostly-girls looking for autographs. One of them yells “Take me home with you!” “Takeout?” Tana jokes. He chats with everybody even as he's actually in the back of his taxi)
Caption: Because NJPW is currently riding a wave of prosperity
(Tana stands against a wall mural, with the heavyweight title over his shoulder. He's pontificating a little bit but also grinning because it's practically self-parody at this point)
HT: I think some wrestlers get carried away with that. But not me. Still, someone needs to watch our step...and keep an eye out for the fans' needs. I have to anticipate their slight emotional changes and cater the performances to what they want. Once it becomes too routine, it won't excite them. The best part of pro wrestling is always changing performances. But don't worry, leave it to Tanahashi.
Caption: Dreams
HT: For the future of pro wrestling, I want more kids to aspire to be pro wrestlers. We don't have farm teams like baseball and soccer do. And baseball has the Major League while soccer has role models like Honda and Kagawa. Kids can aspire and work towards being like them. I want to show kids that being a pro wrestler is something they can also aspire to be. To make that happen, I must rise up and show them what it can be like and hopefully more kids will dream of becoming pro wrestlers. Perhaps, they'll play pro wrestling at schools. I vaguely imagine such a vision of the future.
Caption: What is pro wrestling to you?
HT: Pro wrestling is my way of life. I don't feel right saying “It is my life” as my life will go on even after quitting pro wrestling. In pro wrestling there are good times and bad times. If I endure hardships, then golden opportunities come. Then I counterattack and seize them. So what I do in pro wrestling and in my life are closely linked. It has taught me so many valuable lessons. When people ask me this question, I always answer, “It's my way of life.”
@yungcrybby-anonymousbosch @torukun1 @lone-gunwoman-of-the-week (idk if you’re actually a Tana fan but you might be? lol)
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a backdoor into childhood • Eurogamer.net
It must be the sense of anonymity that compels people to share secrets with strangers. I was having a conversation with a woman in a bookshop when she decided to tell me something I could tell was troubling her about her nine-year-old son. “The thing is,” she said (she had a twitch in her lower lip), “he’s a bright boy, but… he still likes books with pictures in.”
As a children’s bookseller, I hear things like this all the time. Proud parents like to tell me that their children no longer ‘need’ pictures in their books, as though they had just collected their children from a clinic specialising in the treatment of visual withdrawal. Sometimes it’s the children themselves that need reminding: “You don’t need books with pictures in- remember?” In either case, the message seems clear: pictures are mere training wheels for text, and the sooner we’re done with them, the better.
This idea often goes hand-in-hand with the view that children’s literature is merely a simplified version of adult literature, the literary equivalent of a Playmobil fire engine. On the contrary, I think picture books in particular have their own grammar and perspective that you simply don’t find in such abundance elsewhere. In fact, I would argue that if picture books have a torchbearer anywhere in the creative arts, it’s not to be found in literature all. For that, you would need to look to video games.
In the heyday of printed games magazines, we ate with our eyes. In the absence of video, we studied still images and tried to animate them in our minds. It’s hard to imagine now but seeing a game in motion for the first time really was just as big a revelation as how it played. In the years since, video games have made art critics of us all. We even learnt a new vocabulary to talk about them: references to pixel density, shading, style and perspective made themselves at home in even casual conversation, and how could they not? Try explaining these four images without them:
Video games thus provide a level of engagement with visual art most people never get to experience once they’ve ‘outgrown’ picture books. Even in the internet age, a game with a distinctive art style still has that power to grab a player’s attention and make them ask: What are you? How do you work?
People (adults and children alike) respond to picture books in much the same way. The work of David Litchfield, for example, never fails to capture people’s attention, and it is easy to see why:
In Lights on Cotton Rock (above), a spaceship evoking a gumball machine descends upon a clearing in forest; in When I Was A Child, a grandmother and child sit by a sherbet pink lake; in The Bear and The Piano, sunbeams spotlight a bear in a tuxedo leaning over a piano.
The varied textures, digital effects and distinctive colour palette bring to mind the bewitching art style of Moon Studios’ Ori games.
While Ori belongs to a special genre of game that actively requires backtracking, I think it’s fair to say of most games that they invite us to linger in their spaces. While prose cannot help but push us forward word by word, cinema frame by frame, the default state of a picture or video game is inertia. The world, or at least its aperture, stands still until you move it. So, not only do picture books and video games share a focus on the visual, by their very nature, they encourage us to explore their visuals at our own pace.
Another way in which video games echo the pleasures of picture books is their commitment to exhausting every inch of an idea before letting it go. One of my favourite examples of this is Nanette’s Baguette by Mo Willems’, a picture book whose text almost entirely rhymes with the word ‘baguette’. As you can imagine, this is a text with a difficulty curve.
Things start off simply enough, though you’re soon juggling lines with multiple internal rhymes (“Will mom regret she let Nanette get the baguette?”). But as soon as the idea reaches breaking point, it ends. For a more visual example, we might look to Emily Gravett’s Orange Pear Apple Bear, a picture book told in four words.
As the words are rearranged, the illustrations keep pace, resulting in a gentle cross-pollination of ideas. Once the combinations have been exhausted, a fifth and final word is used to bring things to a close: There!
So many of my favourite picture books are like this: they take a simple idea and play with it until it breaks. So many of my favourite video games are like this, too. Super Mario Bros is a game about a jump. Portal is a game about a portal gun. The designers ask themselves, what can we do with THIS? And the very best of them know that when there is no new answer to that question, it’s time to call it a day. There! This explorative design philosophy inevitably leaves a mark on a game’s narrative structure. In Papers, Please, for example, the story unfolds as the gameplay loops, growing in moral complexity alongside the game’s mechanics. The question should you let this person pass? is the same each time, but, like the length of a chasm, or the velocity required to clear an obstacle, it is the shifting context that gives the game shape.
If you spend enough time comparing video games to picture books, you’ll find some surprising similarities in the stories they tell. Even a story as bleak as Papers, Please has its picture book cousin. In Don’t Cross The Line (Isabel Minhos Martins and Bernardo P. Carvalho ), a guard stands at the centre of each spread to prevent characters crossing from one side to the other.
“I’M SORRY, I’M ONLY OBEYING ORDERS,” he says, explaining that the other side of the page is reserved for The General. As in Papers, Please the guard is both the instrument of an oppressive state and a victim of an oppressive state, provoking feelings of contempt as well as pity.
Another example: towards the end of Ori and The Blind Forest, we learn the tragic backstory of Kuro, the game’s primary antagonist. A devoted mother, she spends her days gathering food for her offspring. One day, events beyond her understanding cause the forest’s Spirit Tree to release an intense flash of light, destroying her nest. She rushes home, only to find her offspring killed, setting her on a path of vengeance.
This reads very much like a dark inversion of Martin Wadell and Patrick Benson’s modern classic Owl Babies in which three owlets, lonely and afraid, huddle together while they wait for the mother to return from the hunt.
I believe similarities such as these are more than just coincidence. I think it has something to do with the fact that picture books and video games excel at telling stories from a particular vantage point. It’s all a matter of zoom. Their often limited storytelling space privileges ‘Big Ideas’ over, say, the intricate portraits of life that novels make possible. Perhaps my favourite example of this is Journey – the title alone invokes an aggregate perspective on life. It presents a tale shorn of life’s details, a wordless experience where bodies are concealed beneath robes. In Aaron Becker’s book of the same name, a girl uses a crayon to draw a door into another world. Becker’s Journey is also wordless, and even features a silent encounter with a secondary character who becomes an unexpected source of companionship. It seems that when we tell stories at this altitude, certain ideas crop up time and time again.
I still think it is a mistake to ‘outgrow’ picture books. I much prefer Maurice Sendak’s take: “Kid books… Grownup books… that’s just marketing”. Thinking of things left behind in childhood reminds me of Phillip Pullman’s essay on Heinrich Von Kleist’s On The Marionette Theatre. In it, he outlines a vision of adolescence that became central to his fantasy series, His Dark Materials:
“Having eaten the fruit of the tree of knowledge, we are separate from nature because we have acquired the ability to reflect on it and on ourselves – we are expelled from the garden of Paradise. And we can’t go back, because an angel with a fiery sword stands in the way; if we want to regain the bliss we felt when we were at one with things, we have to go not back but forward, says Kleist, all the way round the world in fact, and re-enter Paradise through the back door, as it were.”
And that, I think, is what video games have to offer us: a backdoor into childhood that is separate from nostalgia, giving us the opportunity to once more play with pictures, to see the world from afar, and do all this with all our intellect and experience intact.
from EnterGamingXP https://entergamingxp.com/2020/05/a-backdoor-into-childhood-%e2%80%a2-eurogamer-net/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=a-backdoor-into-childhood-%25e2%2580%25a2-eurogamer-net
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After five hours of looking through every sweater, Mabel owned she realized that none of them captured the "be my girlfriend" vibe she wanted to give off, so she took the next logical step and started to make a new sweater. She immediately got to work designing while Dipper got to work vacuuming up the paper and glitter. Over the course of an entire day, she created and tossed nineteen different designs before settling on lucky number twenty. The next day was spent knitting and building an outfit around the sweater.
On the day of the party, Mabel wolfed down her breakfast cereal faster than Dipper could finish pouring his. By the time he sat at the table she'd already zipped up the stairs to get ready. After he'd finished his cereal he went back up to his room to get his journal so he could write some additional thoughts he had about a deer that appeared to have headlights for eyes he found last night. Could be that it evolved those eyes as a way to avoid being hit by cars...
Dipper climbed into his bed and grabbed his journal off the nightstand along with his pen. He flipped it open and considered the words he was about to write when he noticed that the clothes that his sister had carefully laid out last night had disappeared. He rolled his eyes and got to writing.
After putting all his thoughts down on paper and drawing an additional sketch (he's greatly improved his drawing skills over the last 5 years) he finally closed his journal and made to put it back on his nightstand, but before he could Mabel slammed open the door startling him. After his very manly scream (it was very manly and filled with testosterone, trust me) Mabel made her way towards him.
"There you are, Dipper! Tell me I look good!" Mabel twirled and made a rather cutesy pose.
Dipper looked her over incredulously.
Her new sweater was a vibrant purple with hearts made up of different shades of pinks and reds climbing up the right side. Her skirt and headband was lavender which contrasted nicely with the sweater. Her makeup was natural and she wore black hoop earrings. She wore her typical black ballet flats and long white socks.
"Sooo, what do you think?" Mabel grinned cheekily.
"You do realize that the party isn't until five and it's currently," Dipper glanced at his alarm clock, "8:42 AM."
"Pfft, details." Mabel waved dismissively. "Ain't nothing wrong with getting ready early."
"Yeah, well, next time could you maybe not barge your way in here and give me a heart attack?" Dipper realized he was clutching his journal tightly to his chest and loosened his grip.
"I can't help it, I'm so excited! Today is the day I confess my love to Paz!! Look at me, I'm literally vibrating in excitement." Mabel stook her arm out and sure enough, it was shaking.
"Um, you sure that's from excitement and not from nerves?" Dipper questioned.
"Absolutely positively sure. 100%!" Mabel stood jittering for few moments. "Okay, maybe more like 99%. But besides that everything is fine!" Mabel struck a confident pose to prove her statement, but it was undermined by the fact that she was still shaking.
"I don't think you're-"
"Can you imagine all the fun things we're gonna do today?" Mabel smoothly changed the subject (trust me). "Why, I bet that everybody's gonna be there. We'll have fun dancing and talking and eating nice food. And then there will be tons of small fireworks before the grand show. Grunkle Stan bringing a bunch of illegal ones too, those are always fun. And, hey, wouldn't it be cool if there was a bounce house?"
"I guess-"
"Cause a bounce house would be super fun! Ooh, and a petting zoo! So many cute animals to get to know and snuggle with! Like rabbits and goats and sheep and- do you think there'd be llamas?"
"Uh-"
"Could you imagine," Mabel paused for dramatic effect, "if there was a full-blown carnival going on in Mcgucket's backyard? Funnel cake, deep fried cookie dough, clowns, the whole shebang."
"I think you're being a bit ridiculous." Dipper finally got in.
"I'd say I'm not being ridiculous enough. There's gonna be a rollercoaster."Mabel said stubbornly. Dipper felt somewhat amused.
"It's gonna stretch up 500- no, 1000 feet into the air!" Mabel lifted her arms to exaggerate her point. "It'll rival the likes of Space Mountain! Splash Mountain! All of the mountains! The joy of climbing Mount Everest will never compare! The awe and wonder of blasting off into outer space itself, seeing the stars up close and personal is nothing in comparison to this roller coaster!"
It's starting to worry Dipper about how much the stress of asking Pacifica out is getting to Mabel. He sets his journal on to his nightstand as she continues to ramble on about how meeting aliens is a lesser discovery than the roller coaster she's made up in her head. Sure, Mabel has quite the active imagination, but clearly, this is more than just that. She's forcefully distracting herself. Dipper feels kind of amazing at what Mabel can come up with when she feels a need to do so. But more than anything, he feels annoyed.
"Hey, don't you think you're overhyping this party? You'll just set yourself for disappointment if this magical roller coaster doesn't exist." Dipper says.
Mabel stops her rant about alien foods being worse than fried cookie dough to consider this thought. Then she shakes her head.
"Nah, cause Paz will be there and there's no comparing Paz to the most amazing roller coaster to ever exist in any dimension." She then nods confirming this thought to herself. Dipper breathes a sigh of relief at the momentary silence. But unfortunately for him, it was just that, momentary.
"Oh my gosh, I'm asking Paz out today." Mabel held her face in her hands, being careful of her makeup. "This is going to be the best day ever, I can't wait!" Dipper held his face in his hands, sighing in exasperation.
"I think I should ask her while we're watching the fireworks! Wouldn't that be romantic? Or would it be better to ask her out immediately? Then us hanging out at the party could be like our first date! Or-"
"Or you could calm down and not overthink everything!" Dipper exclaimed. "There's no point to all this nonsense!"
Mabel was silent for a moment before huffing out a breath. "I know, it's just, " she huffed again in annoyance, "the party is hours away and I don't know what to do with myself." She despondently shuffled over and sat on her bed. "Ugh, why can't time move faster? What would I give to jumpcut to the party right now?"
____________
heres a picture of mabel i doodled
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1, 2, 11, 12, 14, 17, 18, 19, 20, 22, 26, 27, 31, 33, 38, 40, 43, 44, 45, 48, 49, 50
1. Your first OC ever?
Already answered.
2. Do you have a personal favourite among your OCs?
Oh god, it largely comes down to Jessica, Lumina and Charn. But if you put a gun to my head, I’d have to pick Jessica. She’s the oldest of the three, and I feel like I relate to her more.
11. Is there any OC of yours you could describe as a “sunshine”?
Lumina, no question. If she sees someone feeling down, she’ll do her best to cheer them up and make them feel better, and even when things seem at their bleakest, she’ll find some way to find hope in the situation.
In fact, I imagine seeing a genuinely upset Lumina would break anyone’s heart (unless they’re Charn or Shade).
12. Name an OC that isn’t yours but who you like a lot
Already answered, but since I get to say another one, I like @jezmm‘s Alice Grayson. I like her design a lot (particularly her long red hair and blue flares), and she’s a pretty cute character.
14. Introduce an OC with a tragic backstory
Hmm, not sure if introduce is befitting, since I’ve drawn her once or twice, but I imagine Tesla has it particularly rough compared to the other Elementals (all of whom can claim to being the last of their kind and losing at least one friend or family member).
She was once a kind-hearted Electric Elemental in a high class aristocratic city on a Mystic planet far from Enchantus. Things were bad enough when her Time Elemental fiancé up and died one day (along with, mysteriously, every other user of Time magic in the universe), but when a bunch of haggard refugees came to the planet some years afterwards warning about some android named “Charn”, she dismissed them and chose to stay.
Then Charn came and did what he does best; annihilate the city, kill everyone, them proclaim himself the ruler and creator of the planet and torture what survivors were left into believing him without question (”2 + 2 = 5″ style). Though Tesla escaped, she became more jaded and cynical now that she was forced to live her immortal life in squalour fleeing from his threat.
Today, you’re likely to find her glugging down unhealthy amounts of alcoholic, poisonous and generally unpleasant drinks, swearing her head off at those who slight her, and taking immense pleasure in talking down idealistic minds, all while craving the days of her old life.when she wasn’t such a bitter lightning cloud of loathing.
17. Any OC OTPs?
Three come to mind. Ivorn x Lily (the thought of an easily flustered metal technology geek and a calm and peaceful Plant Elemental being in a relationship always felt right to me), Shade x Evil (even if his original goal of proving Elementals can be evil is kinda null and void now, he just loves doing things he shouldn’t do), and Charn x Himself (dude has an ego the size of the universe. He wouldn’t actually compliment alternate versions of himself, though - he’d kill them so there’d only be one Charn).
18. Any OC crackships?
Beta and Jessica. The idea of a psychic robot having a crush on a socially-awkward human he’s trying to kill on threat of death sounds both plausible and totally bonkers at the same time. In fact, Beta X Cassidy also counts, only it’s instead with a human who’s got steelier nerves than he does.
19. Introduce an OC that means a lot to you (and explain why)
I’m probably going to say Jessica. I feel like she’s changed quite a lot since I first doodled her as a semi-afterthought to round out a trio. I’ve always wanted to make a Metroidvania game, and Jessica was originally just one playable character (and not even the “main” one). Eventually, she became the main character of the trio, and now she’s the only playable character.
That’s because I keep thinking about her character and her role in this story;s world. I devised her with the idea that what would normally be the mysterious aloof serious side character to a more conventional and emotional protagonist would instead be the main focus. I freely admit much of her personality is derived from mine; being hard to approach, somewhat anti-social and always living with the feeling that she’s being judged every moment and that deep down she’s a failure at what she wants to be.
(That said, I think it’s fair to say that I’m more well-adjusted and approachable than she is lol.)
20. Do any of your OCs sing? If they sing, care to share more details (headcanon voice, what kind of songs they like etc)?
Lumina’s the most obvious one of the lot. When it comes to genres, she’s very adaptable and open-minded, but she prefers upbeat pop songs. Especially with 80′s/90′s synth sounds or catchy dance songs (think something like “Butterfly” by smile.dk?)
As for her voice, I don’t know any singers who’d fit her, but I’ve always felt that Tara Strong would be my first pick for her. So I guess something like this, only more upbeat and with a more British accent?
(In case the link dies in the future, I’m referring to Ember McLain from Danny Phantom, which I actually saw little of back then.)
22. Is there any OC of yours people tend to mischaracterize? If yes, how?
Already answered.
26. Have you ever had to change your OC’s design or something else about them against your will?
Already answered.
27. Any OCs that were inspired by a certain song?
While I don’t think a full-on OC was inspired by a song, Lumina’s design was altered after I heard the theme to Jem. At the time, she was a fairly generic pink-haired pixie girl in a white and pink jumpsuit, and then after hearing it, I (for some reason) decided, “Hey, what if I made her super J-pop idol/80′s glam girl?” and tweaked her outfit and gave her her big poofy ponytail. I regret nothing.
31. Pick one OC of yours and explain what their tumblr blog would be like (what they reblog, layout, anything really)
Lily’s would be super pretty and calming, with reblogs of cute animals, pretty flowers, relaxing scenery, and the occasional conversation/picture/embarrasing situation with Ivorn.
33. Your shyest OC?
Jessica. She never starts conversations, always sweats and panics internally while talking to someone who isn’t a close friend or family, and is more comfortable staying inside than going out in public. Though if you’re antagonising her and/or trying to kill her, she gets more of a backbone and snarky lip.
38. Which one of your OCs would be the best dancer?
Hmm, maybe Lumina? I imagine it comes with her performing onstage, though I magine someone else may have more natural talent at it than her. Cassidy, maybe? I dunno.
40. Any fond memories linked to your characters? Feel free to share!
Honestly, any time I get fanart of them, especially if the artist did it without me prodding them about it or as part of a mutually beneficial art trade or the like. It makes me super happy that there are people who liked them enough to draw them when they didn’t need to.
43. Do you have any certain type when you create your OCs? Do you tend to favour some certain traits or looks? It’s time to confess
Already answered.
44. Something you like about your OCs in general
I guess the fact that I’ve created a range of characters with their own lives, backstories, personalities, relationships and futures in a world of my own creation, which I can control as I see fit. Like, sometimes I’ll see a character like Genesect that makes me go, “Wow, that looks so cool/cute/whatever, I wish I came up with that!” And then I look at any one of my characters and I feel better because I came up with them before anyone else did.
45. A character you no longer use?
Admittedly they were in a sort of limbo status for quite a while anyway, but Stuart and the third robot character aren’t likely to be part of the TSOTS-verse any longer. Besides the fact that Jessica’s gameplay style differs from traditional Metroidvania characters like Samus and I was afraid their styles would be weaker by comparison (plus extra work), I was never really able to come up with a concrete design for Stuart, nor could I settle on a name for the robot (for the longest time I went with Dave, after David Bowman from 2001, but that never sat well with me, and the only other alternative I could think of was ROM, which is taken). Will they get a new lease on life in the future? Maybe, but for now, they’re dead in the water as far as major uses go.
Still, at least they’re better off than a third Charn minion alongside Beta and Cassidy. He was an old man who’d be a cyborg, and the reveal of this would have him decking a reluctant Dave in the face. That’s about the only thing I miss from axing him; I think having Beta and Cassidy in a duo is a better choice for their characters.
48. OC who is a perfect cinnamon roll, too good for this world, too pure
Voidica. A nice girl who’ll gladly accept anyone as her friend, and born to a universe with Charn in it. And then Charn killed her off in cold blood, with zero chance of her coming back or having any kind of afterlife.
49. Which one of your OCs would most likely enjoy memes
Lumina, no question. Shade and Jessica get driven up the wall by her antics when she falls in love with a new meme.
50. Give me the good ol’ OC talk here. Talk about anything you want
- Shade’s character of being a total bastard just to prove he can be is basically one giant spit in the face to the Pokémon animé (and I guess to a much lesser extent the games), which made the bold claim of saying that Pokémon - who are more or less as clever/sentient as humans - cannot be evil, and routinely made Pokémon that followed that statement to a T or else turned good (mostly legendaries like Deoxys, Darkrai, Kyurem and Genesect). In fact, I think a precursor of his character came in the form of my headcanon for Genesect in my (short-lived) playthrough of Black 2, where he was a homicidal maniac who only tags along with the protagonist so he could get back at Team Plasma for ditching him in favour of the Tao trio.
- If Shade ever does a good deed entirely of his own will, he’ll go out the same way as Rorschach from Watchmen.
- Charn’s name came from a book I read years ago, “Through the Dragon’s Eye”. His design, meanwhile, started as a generic final boss doodle I off-handedly made, then changed many times since then. Ironically, his head remained consistent in all of them (though his eyes were less triangular and villainous.
- I came up with several possible backstories for Charn, such as him being a robot controlled by a t-rex’s brain (yes, really). I even toyed with the possibility of pulling a Joker and giving him no clear-cut origin, though now it’s far more defined.
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