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psychosistr · 3 years

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Snow Day

Summary: After a particularly rough day, Domino isn’t in the best mood. Fortunately, Steelbeak knows just the thing to cheer him up- all he needs is a nice day and some of his partner’s favorite weather.

Notes: This was a holiday gift for @thefriendlyfour and I hope you all enjoy it as well ^.^ As always, Domino (as well as Steelbeak’s outfit design) belongs to the ever amazing @thefriendlyfour / @eleanorose123 (though I think Domino’s winter outfit in this one was originally designed by @akysi ), so make sure you go check out their work as well! =^.^=

There were many things to like about the city of St. Canard: Exciting night life. Great views of the bay. A diverse ecosystem in and around the town. Plenty of places to eat, shop, and steal from. A resident super-hero (though that being likable was subjective). A prison with terrible security for easy escape (again, subjective).

The weather, Dominic thought, was decidedly not one of the things to like about St. Canard.

The loon and his partner, Steelbeak, had just endured an all-day mission for FOWL that involved driving all over the city in temperatures just short of freezing. Normally, the red-eyed bird enjoyed colder weather- winter was his favorite season, after all. Today, however, had been that uncomfortable kind of cold where it seemed fine at first but, over time, made you regret not choosing a warmer coat when you left (they’d both made that mistake, and had relied on his car’s heater to thaw themselves out every time they were done at one location) that only got worse when the clouds decided to precipitate just enough for it to be misty but not enough to snow, resulting in the clammy kind of cold that seeped into their clothes and had them shivering every time they stayed outside just a little too long.

Everything culminated in a showdown with Darkwing Duck at the bay where the two top-ranking agents attempted to use FOWL’s newest device, the “PRESSURIZER”, to drain all of the water and use it as an extremely dangerous high-pressure water canon to extort the town’s residents and government for billions. They had been so close to victory…until that infuriating little red headed girl that always trailed along behind the city’s protector used a hockey stick to launch a wrench that Darkwing’s (admittedly attractive) sidekick had on him in an impressive ricochet shot that perfectly hit the “self-destruct” button (Steelbeak would later swear to pay a visit to the scientist responsible for that little feature) on the console right between the two fowls. Had the resulting blast not sent the pair plummeting into Audubon Bay, Dominic would have been inclined to comment on the child making such an impressive and difficult shot so easily.

As it stood, however, he wasn’t in any hurry to congratulate the one responsible for submerging him and his partner in a bay that was one step above freezing.

Once the deadly duo had dragged themselves up from the ocean’s chilling depths, they made a hasty retreat to Dominic’s car and sped off just in time to avoid the police. While they’d avoided any major injuries (bumps, bruises, scrapes, and singed feathers were par for the course when it came to their line of work), the two agents ended the day feeling exhausted, frustrated, soaked to the bone, shivering like they were trying to avoid hypothermia (which may not have been far from the truth). Oh, and let’s not forget the cherry on top of this wonderful day- Dominic’s car now absolutely reeked of sea water from the two having to sit in it without having time to dry off or change their clothes.

By the time they got home, showered, and changed, it was late and neither man was in a particularly good mood. Both of them just wanted a few days to unwind before having to deal with anymore insanity. That wasn’t too much to ask, was it?

Well, apparently it was.

No sooner had the two gotten settled on opposite ends of Steelbeak’s couch, fully intent on relaxing before dinner, than the large screen across the room flickered to life on its own. Dominic held back a frustrated groan and could hear a barely muffled sound of displeasure from the lighter bird across from him.

The images on the screen came into focus and three familiar silhouetted figures appeared on it, the one seated in the middle doing the talking as per usual. “Chief Officer Steelbeak, agent Domino, we have a new mission for you.”

Dominic ignored the muttered “gimme a break” from his right, though he certainly agreed with the sentiment wholeheartedly. “When do we start?”

Both agents groaned internally at their leader’s rather curt reply. “First thing in the morning at 8:00 sharp.”

He went on to explain the details of their mission, but Dominic was only idly absorbing the information (they’d be given proper instructions in the morning). What the loon got from High Command’s summarized description was that the science department had developed some sort of large egg-shaped sun-blocking device that would create a false eclipse. While the citizens of Calisota were panicking over the false eclipse, FOWL would be taking advantage of the chaos to rob multiple high-value targets at once ranging from museums to laboratories.

Apparently this all had to be done tomorrow, as it was the only day of the coming weeks predicted to have a substantial amount of sunlight for the device’s deployment to make a significant impact.

Although Steelbeak seemed just as thrilled (maybe even less so) than his partner, the lighter FOWL managed a convincingly neutral acceptance of their orders. “Sure thing. We’ll be up an’ waitin’ for the call.”

After receiving a similar acknowledgement from Dominic, the screen went dark once more.

With no more eyes on them (at least, they were fairly certain there were none, it was hard to tell sometimes whether or not with that thing..), the chief officer and his partner finally vocalized their displeasure- Dominic with a frustrated sigh and Steelbeak with an irritated groan.

“No rest for the wicked, it seems.” The loon shook his head, not bothering to hide his scowl anymore. “You’d think we’d get at least ONE day off after what they just put us through…”

Steelbeak rolled his eyes, his scowl matching the darker bird’s. “That’s the problem with those ‘workin’ behind the shadow’ types- they get t’ sit around all day tellin’ everyone else what t’ do an’ forget how exhaustin’ it is bein’ a field agent……like t’ see ‘em try runnin’ ‘round all day an’ deal with stupid heroes shootin’ junk at ‘em…” The last sentence was muttered disdainfully, but was certainly not lost on the other man.

“Now that is something I’d pay to see.” Dominic sighed, leaning back on the couch and closing his eyes. Might as well relax while he could, seeing as he’d have to head straight to bed after dinner to make sure he had enough energy for tomorrow. “That or some bad weather…I’d actually pay for it if it meant having a day off.”

With his own eyes closed, the loon missed the look of realization that appeared in the lighter fowl’s dark eyes….and the devious smirk that soon followed…

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

A loud, rather irritating ringing woke Dominic up from his slumber. Rolling onto his side with one red eye barely open to peer at his bedside clock and the covered window across the room, he was further irritated by the fact that it was too early for his alarm to go off- it was only half past five and he’d been hoping to rest until at least seven. The ringing, he soon realized, was coming from his phone rather than his alarm clock.

While he was very tempted to simply ignore whoever thought it was okay to call him before the sun was even starting to rise, the half-awake loon recognized the ring tone and, resignedly, answered it.

Just because he deemed the one calling him worthy of being answered, however, didn’t mean he was pleased by the literal wake-up call. “Steelbeak..you have five seconds to convince me not to go next door and smother you to death with one of your tacky pillows..”

That distinctive laugh could be heard through the receiver, sounding far more awake than anyone had any business being at this time of day. “Well, good mornin’ t’ you too, sunshine.” Before Dominic had a chance to protest the mocking nickname or threaten to hang up, the much more awake fowl continued speaking, this time in a slightly more serious tone. “Get up an’ get dressed, we’re leavin’ in fifteen. Don’t worry ‘bout breakfast, I’ve got ya covered.”

Well that certainly helped wake him up. Rubbing his eyes with his free hand, Dominic sat up and stretched his legs to help get his body on the same page as his mind. “What happened? Did High Command call and change the time?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, it’s not that big of a deal. Just get dressed an’ meet me in the hall.” Just before he hung up, Steelbeak added one more thing as an afterthought. “Oh, an’ wear somethin’ warm- warmest ya got.”

Looking down at the phone in his hand once the dial tone began to play, Dominic was left with more questions than answers. Had the temperature gone down further since yesterday? Had something come up that changed High Command’s plans? Why was Steelbeak so awake and aware of what was going on?

Despite the many questions floating through his now-awake brain, Dominic did as his partner instructed and got ready for the day. Once his feathers were straightened properly, the loon opened his closet and moved aside his usual outfits for a much warmer one that he typically reserved for the coldest time of the year: A white coat with both light and dark blue accents, a belt-like clasp, a blue and white snowflake emblem on the bottom above the fluffy white trim, and even kept the aesthetic of his usual outfit by placing white buttons in a domino-like pattern over the blue squares of fabric on his torso. The coat had matching white gloves, blue and white boots, a white scarf with a snowflake emblem like the one on the bottom of his coat that was currently tucked into his collar to help him stay warm, and a white pork-pie style hat (he would never understand why people named clothing styles such ridiculous things, but the hat was comfortable) with a light blue hat band and two blue dots to match the coat’s motif.

By the time he left his apartment, Steelbeak was waiting in the hall for him with two thermoses of coffee. The taller man was also dressed in a different outfit than usual, but sharp red eyes could still see the edge of a white sleeve under the hem of the rooster’s long dark red coat that was zipped up all the way to the top, the brown fur-lined hood resting on his shoulders. While his pants were black like usual, they were thicker and reminded the loon of ski pants. The black gloves and dark red sunburst style boots (again, who chooses these names?) lined with fur that matched his hood completed the look.

Holding out one thermos for the darker bird to take, Steelbeak took a sip of coffee from his own and gave his partner a knowing grin. “Took ya long enough. C’mon, we gotta get goin’ ‘fore it gets too late.”

Dominic gladly took the thermos and its energy-granting contents, pleased as always to find it prepared exactly how he liked it- today’s batch even had traces of peppermint, which brought a small smile to the loon’s dark beak before he followed the rooster to the elevator at the end of the hallway. “Too late for what, exactly? The sun shouldn’t be up for another two hours.” He still had plenty of questions that had yet to be answered.

“Exactly.” A black-gloved finger pressed the button for the elevator, its owner smiling over the minor victory of the doors opening immediately rather than having to wait for them. “That’s why we gotta be back before then in case High Command calls.”

“Wait..” Dominic followed the taller man into the elevator, but made his confusion over their early departure transparently clear. “If High Command hasn’t called yet, then why are we leaving?”

The loon’s answer was that same knowing grin from before- the one that both frustrated him for being out of the loop regarding whatever was going on but also intrigued him because Steelbeak didn’t normally keep secrets (at least, not from HIM) for very long and usually shared whatever juicy bit of information or despicable plan was rattling around in his devious brain. “All you need t’ know is that it’s VERY important an’ you’re gonna be glad we left early. Trust me.” Well THAT just left the shorter bird with even MORE questions. Unfortunately, any further inquiries were put on hold once the elevator doors opened again and the duo stepped out into the parking garage. “We’re takin’ my car ‘til yours stops smellin’ like a mermaid’s bedroom.”

Dominic had no problems with that and willingly followed the other fowl to his overly flashy car- he wasn’t really in the mood to drive and probably wouldn’t be until he’d gotten through his first coffee. “Do I even want to ask how you know what that would smell like?”

“I’ve been ‘round the block a few times. Let’s just hope we don’t get any missions in the south pacific anytime soon.” Steelbeak’s chuckle made it hard to tell if he was joking or not, a typical part of his sense of humor that Dominic had gotten used to over the past five months of their relationship. He made a mental note to ask about the alleged mermaid encounter another time while the two of them got settled into their seats. “Put this on.”

Looking up from buckling his seatbelt, red eyes widened in mild disbelief when he saw the fabric being presented to him. “A blindfold?” Thinking he’d perhaps jumped to conclusions too soon, Dominic looked over the long strip of black silk with a gaudy pink heart pattern once again, but, no, it was definitely a blindfold, albeit a rather tacky one that made half of his mind want to ask why the other man had something like that in his possession…and the other half had a feeling it already knew... “Why-”

“I’m aductin’ ya.” The taller fowl jokingly said with that infuriatingly intriguing grin. “But you’re gonna love it, trust me.”

Red eyes rolled in feigned annoyance as Dominic took the blindfold with his free hand, but didn’t make any moves to put it on just yet. “And why, exactly, should I ‘trust you’ and impair my vision after you’ve admitted to abducting me?”

“ ‘cause you’d still kick my butt, even if ya couldn’t see it.” Well, yes, that was definitely true…and this was Steelbeak he was dealing with- the man hadn’t given him any reason not to trust him sine they’d started going out…

……

…………

“….Fine..” Setting his coffee down momentarily, Dominic tied the tacky silk over his eyes and leaned back in the passenger’s seat once he had the thermos back in his hands. “If you try anything, you’re hand is going straight into the bay…without the rest of you going in after it.”

Though he could no longer see it, the loon could easily hear the smirk in the metal-mouthed fowl’s voice as the car rumbled to life around him. “Wouldn’t dream of it, short-fuse.”

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

It was hard to tell how long they’d been driving with his vision obstructed, but Dominic had finished his coffee by the time he felt the car shut off. “Can I take this ridiculous thing off yet?”

There was a beat of silence, as if the vehicle’s other occupant was giving the question serious thought. “Hmmm…yeah, I guess so..” Before the white gloved fingers could start on the knot, however, an addendum was added to the previous comment. “But don’t open your eyes.”

Even with his eyes covered, Dominic hoped that the glare he was sending the other bird’s direction would still be noticeable. “I hope you know my patience is wearing thin. You’d better have a good reason for waking me up before dawn, dragging me out of bed, and taking me on a joyride without giving me ANY-”

“I’ve got a good reason. I promise.” Steelbeak’s voice was resolute. His tone betrayed no signs of mischief or ill intent, not that Dominic really expected there to be any, but it was still somewhat reassuring to hear it, anyway... “You’re just..gonna have t’ trust me on this one, Deedee.”

Dominic was prepared to argue the point, or simply take the blindfold off and be done with the whole charade (yesterday’s disasters combined with his unexpected awakening didn’t have him in the best of moods)……but that pause in Steelbeak’s last sentence gave him pause, as well.

The larger man didn’t sound as confident as he had leading up to this point. He sounded almost…hesitant? Uncertain? It was hard to say. Either way, it sounded more like he was asking for Dominic to trust him, rather than demanding it, but it was almost as if he wasn’t sure he’d be given such a thing…

“……” Taking in a very slow, deliberate breath before exhaling it in equal measure, the white gloved fingers finally began their task of untying the blindfold. “Fine.” Once the silk was gone, red eyes remained firmly shut. “But my earlier statement still stands.”

He heard a brief chuckle, but this one sounded relieved rather than amused. “Don’t worry, you’ll like this, I promise.” The car door on his left opened and shut, followed by a minute of silence before his own door opened. He felt a light tug on the blindfold still being clutched in his hand. “This way.”

Dominic followed his partner’s lead out of the vehicle, hearing the door close behind him once he was far enough away. He heard a brief click afterwards, as if something had been opened, but couldn’t tell what it was. As he was lead further away from the car, he noticed an odd sound and sensation below his boots- the ground beneath him was…crunchy? That was the only way he could think to describe it- crunchy in sound and loose in texture. “Where exactly are we?” He thought for a moment they were at the beach, but the sand there wouldn’t make this sort of noise. It…kind of felt like-

There was a creaking sound, like something heavy and metallic being pushed open. “Why don’t ya open up those pretty red eyes of yours an’ see for yourself?”

Taking the other man’s advice and doing so, Dominic’s red eyes finally opened for the first time since he’d gotten into the car with his partner, and what he saw momentarily took his breath away before it was exhaled in a visible puff.

The two fowls were standing just inside the gates of the very same park they went to during their first date. While it was still dark out with only the dim lighting of the street lamps providing any visibility, there was one very noticeable difference this time:

Snow.

Every inch of the park- and the city as a whole, it seemed- was covered in a thick blanket of snow. The park’s grassy fields had been completely buried under the fluffy white precipitation, as had the walking trails and sidewalks in and around the park. The trees and other shrubbery resembled cotton balls with how thoroughly their foliage had been coated, and in the distance Dominic could even see that the lake had frozen over. There were already so many of the beautifully cold flakes scattered about, and even more still falling from the thick, dark clouds above that showed no signs of stopping anytime soon.

Curious as to how he hadn’t felt the falling snow sooner, the loon’s red eyes drifted up and finally took notice of the large black and white striped umbrella above him. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw his partner watching him with an amused yet fond smile while holding the umbrella with his free hand.

The expression brought a slight flush to the darker bird’s cheeks that, even if it were noticeable, he’d blame on the cold if he was ever called out for it. “H-How-” He had even more questions now than before he’d gotten in the car, and, downplaying the slight stutter to his speech by clearing his throat and pretending it was just a dry throat from the cold air, he was intent on finally receiving some answers. “How is this possible? The reports all said it was supposed to be sunny today.”

Steelbeak shrugged one shoulder, the grin on his gleaming beak betraying the words that left it. “Y’know how unpredictable the weather is ‘round here…‘specially with all the supervillains runnin’ ‘round changin’ things just ‘cause they feel like it.” Apparently deciding the umbrella was no longer needed after the big reveal of his surprise, Steelbeak closed it and set it by the park gate. “Or, y’know, if someone offers ‘em a few million big ones t’ start a snowstorm and ‘suggests’ a few choice places t’ hit up an’ keep any annoyin’ superheroes busy.”

Dominic followed the lighter bird as he ventured deeper into the park, giving him a curious look accompanied by a quirked brow. “If you made all of this happen, then why was it so important to get out here this early? We could’ve waited until the sun was up.”

Hands now resting comfortably in the pockets of his coat, Steelbeak gave another calm shrug. “I dunno ‘bout you, but I don’t exactly trust the ‘freaky four’ t’ practice things like restraint.” Dark eyes glanced up at the thick clouds and the still plentiful amount of snow falling down on the city below. “At the rate this stuff’s fallin’, I figure we got about three hours before the snow drifts get taller than you…short fuse.” He side-eyed the loon with a smirk. Red eyes rolled as Dominic shook his head, choosing to ignore the jab at his height compared to his monumentally tall partner. (Honestly, though, who didn’t seem short compared to him?) “And..” The loon’s attention returned to the other fowl when he heard the slightly softer, less sef-assured tone in Steelbeak’s voice. Steelbeak was glancing away now, a bit of red visible beneath his off-white cheek feathers. “I..know ya love this stuff…figured you’d wanna come out an’ have some fun before the whole town gets snowed in…plus there’d be no one out this early, less people around an’ all that…”

It was once again Dominic’s turn to blush. Any irritation he’d felt from his unplanned awakening was forgotten almost instantly. Now that he had a chance to look at- really look at- his partner, he noticed the things he’d missed earlier in the chaotic whirlwind of events leading up to this point: His feathers had clearly not been preened since his shower the previous night. His comb wasn’t standing up quite as straight as it usually did. His eyes were bloodshot, albeit only slightly- he must’ve taken eye drops at some point to hide it. His eyes also had dark circles under them that indicated-

“You didn’t sleep last night.” Although the red-eyed fowl was truly touched by how much thought Steelbeak put into all of this, he still couldn’t help but ask- “Why?” He elaborated further when he was met with a confused look from the taller bird. “Why go to all this trouble?”

The question made a grin appear once more on the metal-mouthed rooster’s beak. “C’mon, stripes, between the two of us, YOU’RE the one that actually WENT t’ school.” He chuckled, the grin on his face practically beaming. “Thought you’d know what a ‘snow day’ was.”

“A..snow day?” Wow, that was a term Dominic hadn’t heard since his school days.

“Ding, ding! Startin’ t’ ring any bells yet, wise guy?” Steelbeak teased as the pair walked over the park’s snowy trail (or at least what one could assume to be since it was slightly lower than the ground around it). Once he’d had his laugh, though, the rooster’s grin softened into something calmer. “High Command needed a sunny day t’ make their plan work- no sun, no stupid eight AM mission, so we get the day off. Plus, even if High Command decides they wanna try somethin’ else, they’re gonna need time t’ come up with a new plan an’ send a helicopter t’ pick us up since the streets’ll be too buried t’ drive by then, so we get plenty of time t’ relax an’ enjoy breakfast when we get back.” One dark gray eye winked down at the loon playfully. “Sounds like a win-win, if ya ask me.”

Darn, that grin was infectious. “A win-win indeed.” Dominic’s own dark beak soon lit up with a smile as he nodded in wholehearted agreement. He had to give credit where it was due- that was a very well thought out and expertly executed plan. “I have to say, I’m impressed you came up with all of this so quickly.”

“Hey, I didn’t get t’ be Chief Officer just ‘cause of my good looks- there’s a pretty big brain behind this gorgeous mug.” Ah, and there was that cocky grin and wink followed by the exaggeratedly “flirtatious” eyebrow wiggle that never failed to make the loon laugh.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind.” Dominic wasn’t sure how, but he managed to get the whole sentence out with only a few quiet, barely restrained chuckles slipping in. If there was one thing that Steelbeak knew how to do, it was make his partner smile and laugh and feel a hundred times lighter than he had before.

After the misery of the previous day, Dominic decided, he’d gladly take this much more pleasant alternative.

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

The deadly duo spent a while simply walking around and admiring the fresh-fallen, undisturbed beauty of the snow covered park. It felt so much like their first date- the two of them just walking around, conversing freely, enjoying one another’s company without anyone around to bother them; he’d even talked Steelbeak into ice skating with him over the frozen lake and was pleased to see that the rooster’s balance had improved considerably, only needing to be helped up a handful of times.

While it felt similar, though, it also felt like a completely different experience altogether. Back then, they’d still been getting to know each other, getting used to one another. Now, they were still learning things about each other, but there was a greater feeling of familiarity, as well as a sense of comfort that came from that familiarity. There were still boundaries they were discovering and learning how to work around, but it was leaps and bounds from where they were before that night almost half a year ago.

As he passed beneath a tree off of the park trail, Dominic’s musing on his relationship with his partner was stopped by a sudden clump of snow falling onto his hat.

He tipped his head back, looking up at the glistening branches curiously and allowing the frozen flakes still resting on his hat to fall off. Well, the tree WAS heavily coated with snow and ice, a stray breeze could have-

Another clump of snow, this one rounder and more firmly packed, descended at a slight curve- as if it had been thrown from somewhere behind him- towards him and hit the surprised loon in the face before he had time to move away. “!!” Brushing the snow from his eyes, he looked back over his shoulder at the only other person in the park. “I saw that..”

Steelbeak, who’d stopped a few feet away from the tree to kneel down and adjust one of his boots, gave the loon a slightly raised brow and his best attempt at an earnestly confused expression. “Saw what?” His attempt at faking innocence would have been much more effective if it wasn’t clear that he was holding back a smile and that one of his gloves still had snow on it.

Oh, so he wanted to play games, huh? Fine. Dominic could play, too. “Nevermind…must have been my imagination…”

Stepping closer to the tree, one of the loon’s hands was freed from its glove- his back to the rooster as he walked around the base to keep it out of his sight. After slipping the glove into his pocket, his still-gloved fingers trailed along the snow-covered tree. From an outside perspective, it would look like he was idly tracing simple patterns into the powdery snow of the trunk. In reality, however, he was readying his ammunition. By the time there was enough snow accumulated in his covered palm, Dominic had reached the other side of the tree and was able to quickly transfer it into his other hand without being noticed. A quick packing between both hands and the sharpshooter had his weapon locked and loaded.

When he suddenly made a sharp turn and jumped back out the way he came, Dominic was not at all surprised to see Steelbeak waiting with another sizable clump of snow in his hands, clearly prepared to throw it at the other side of the large tree with his hands raised over his head.

Steelbeak, on the other hand, was very surprised to see the loon doubling back and catching him in the act. So surprised, in fact, that he didn’t have time to dodge the snowball that was sent hurtling towards him. “!!!” The snowball found its target’s face, causing said target to let out a startled squawk from literally going snow-blind. The whole ordeal made his hands move just enough to turn his own weapon against him, the clump of snow that was once above him now falling all over his head and torso. “Hey, no fair! Cheap shot!”

Dominic smirked at the prone rooster, quickly forming more ammunition and ducking behind the tree for cover while his “enemy” was busy shaking and wiping snow off of himself. “I was merely returning the favor- now we’re even.”

With his vision restored and most of the snow removed, Steelbeak smirked as well and readied another oversized snowball. “Well, it ain’t gonna stay that way for long.”

And with that, the war had begun. The entire park quickly became a battleground as two expertly trained secret agents crafted and launched their handmade weapons at one another.

Dominic had the clear advantage- snow was his favorite weather and he was truly in his element. The aquatic fowl was able to quickly craft practically perfect spheres from the terrain around him and throw them with pin-point accuracy. The tree he’d stationed himself behind made for good cover between shots, allowing him to safely stockpile ammunition and retreat when he was under heavy fire. From time to time, he’d dart out and weave between the surrounding foliage to fire off multiple shots and even slid across the lake a few times to stay ahead of his adversary.

Steelbeak, on the other hand, was clearly not as used to interacting with the frozen liquids he attempted to wield. The metal mouthed fowl didn’t have the finesse (or apparently the knowledge to take off his gloves and use the heat of his hands to melt the dry flakes) to craft small snowballs, and instead scooped up large quantities of the loose powder and form what could only be described as “snow cannonballs”. These larger projectiles took more time to make and weren’t as precise as his quick-footed and quick-witted rival’s smaller spheres, but they were capable of devastating damage when they managed to hit and knocked the slippery sharpshooter off of his feet more than once.

The battle raged for longer than either combatant cared to keep track of, the once pristine park now full of holes and gashes from their wintery war. The two snow covered fowls laughed and shot comebacks at one another along with their projectiles. It was certainly a sight to behold- a duo of deadly spies who carried out assassinations and mass slaughters of enemies on a regular basis now using their battle skills and instincts to throw balls of snow at each other with the excitement of school children. If anyone from work- be it an eggman, fellow agent, or Darkwing Duck himself- were to see the well-known chief officer of FOWL and his normally stern, red-eyed-glare wielding partner and tell others what they’d witnessed, chances were that no one would ever believe them.

Dominic himself could hardly believe it, but he was having far too much fun to stop. Retreating back to the trunk of his chosen shelter, the loon managed to hit Steelbeak’s large and vibrant tail feathers with his last snowball before working rapidly to replenish his supply.

“Yeow!” Steelbeak yelped from the packed precipitation striking his perfectly plumaged posterior. “Ohh, you’re gonna get it for that one!”

From his hiding spot, Dominic could hear the larger bird making another of his plus-sized snowballs. “We’ll see about that!” He parroted the other man’s earlier words over his shoulder while topping off his ammo cache. Confident he could dodge whatever size the lighter fowl’s newest snow monstrosity happened to be, Dominic left his makeshift fort and prepared to fire off his more manageable artillery.

His confidence was immediately shaken by the small-boulder sized chunk of snow hitting his face with enough force to send him toppling into a deep snow bank.

It took a minute for Dominic’s world to stop spinning, and a few more seconds for his senses to return enough to realize that the hazy white blur he saw was snow piled around his head and (thankfully) not spotty vision caused by a concussion. As he sat up, the loon shook the snow off of himself, needing to retrieve his nearly camouflaged hat from the white mound.

His attention was soon stolen, however, by the menacing shadow that was cast over him. Looking up, red eyes widened at the sight of his opponent holding an absolutely MASSIVE chunk of snow even larger than the last one over his head with a smirk. “Any last words, wise guy?”

Hands planting themselves against the ground behind him in preparation to run or fight back, Dominic’s gaze darted rapidly around his surroundings. There had to be a way out of this!

Then, he found it- his bare hand touching something textured and rough hidden within the snow. Looking back up at the tree above them, a plan at last formed in the clever fowl’s fiendish mind. He’d only have one shot at this…

Gripping the object he’d found, Dominic smirked while making eye contact with the unaware rooster. “Yes…but would it be in bad taste to say ‘freeze’?” Without any further explanation, the loon’s bare hand emerged from its hiding place in the snow to briefly reveal the stick it was clutching before throwing it at a sharp angle that just barely missed the other fowl’s head.

“What the-?!” Steelbeak, at first thinking the projectile was meant for him, instinctively ducked to avoid it, nearly dropping the colossal cold-ball clutched in his hands. Thinking himself safe, he smirked back down at the presumed-defenseless loon beneath him. “Your aim’s slippin’, Deedee- ya missed.”

“Oh, I don’t miss.” The darker bird replied with a wicked smirk before putting his weight back onto his arms and rolling the extra foot he needed to avoid what was about to happen.

Following the other man’s red-eyed gaze up to the tree he was still standing beneath, Steelbeak’s own dark eyes widened at the sight of the stick Dominic had thrown striking the completely-snow-covered top of the tree. By now, there was so much of the frozen precipitation accumulated on its branches that it looked nearly twice its normal size. This made the realization of what was about to happen all the more chilling- in more than just the literal sense.

“Hmph…well played, stripes..” Was all Steelbeak could get out before the domino effect came into play. The disturbed snow on top of the tree fell, falling into and shaking the snow on the next branch. This pattern cascaded down through every level of the tree, resulting in a miniature avalanche that left the large fowl buried under an even larger mound of snow before he had time to run away.

The backdraft of air and snow was strong enough that Dominic had to shield his eyes with his gloved hand, holding onto his hat with the other to keep it from blowing away. Peeking out once the air had settled, a pleased smirk found its way to the loon’s beak as he observed his handiwork: The entire base of the tree and a good portion of the trunk were now buried in snow. Where his opponent once stood was crumpled lump in the mound of white flakes with no sign he was alive other than the single black-gloved hand sticking straight up like a flag- one of surrender, the loon mused jokingly.

Deciding it would be best for everyone if the taller man didn’t catch hypothermia or pneumonia, Dominic figured it would be best to show mercy for once and dig his fallen adversary out of his precipitated prison. Dawning his second glove once again, white-covered hands made short work of shoveling the equally white powder away from the lump beneath the extended black glove. After a minute or two, he found a gleaming metal beak within the snow, and soon the rest of the head attached to it became visible.

Dark grey eyes blinked the world into focus as their owner looked up dramatically. “Wow, think I finally found the light at the end of the tunnel.” The same eyes glanced over at his rescuer, the corner of his mouth lifting into a small smirk. “Gotta say, you’re not quite what I expected an angel t’ look like……but I ain’t complainin’.”

Dominic returned the look in kind and winked down at the still partially buried man beneath him. “Keep it up and I’ll send you to heaven my way.” A quiet laugh shook the smaller bird’s shoulders as he shook his head with an undeniably fond smile. “While I do admire your ability to flirt while half frozen, frostbite isn’t exactly charming- let’s get you out of there, shall we?”

With a quiet chuckle of his own, Steelbeak started sitting up to extricate himself from his icy prison. “Yeah, probably for the best..think I feel my tail feathers freezin’ o-” He froze (not literally for now), eyes blinking in surprise as they looked from the loon’s face down to his own hand that was still sticking out of the snow.

Clasped firmly around the rooster’s large black-gloved hand was a smaller one clad in white.

Dominic knew what the other’s look was about and why the normally talkative man had gone uncharacteristically silent. “It’s fine.” He offered with a small but reassuring smile before digging his heels into the snow and pulling the other man back up onto his feet.

Once he was back to his usual towering six and half foot (seven if his comb was counted) height, Steelbeak looked down at the hand still clasped around his own with an expression somewhere between elated and nervous. “So…am I ‘bout t’ go swimmin’ in the bay after that..?”

Dominic shook his head, giving the larger palm in his own a light squeeze for reassurance. “Not this time. I want to keep it around for now.”

The nervousness left the lighter fowl’s expression, leaving him with a smile that tried its best to look calm but was undermined by the excited gleam in his dark eyes. “Keep it for as long as ya want, red eyes.”

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer.” The loon gave a softer smile, two sets of fingers in contrasting colors lacing and locking together as if it were their natural state.

Steelbeak, as well as many other individuals within FOWL, were well aware of Dominic’s “quirk”, as High Command liked to call it. After witnessing the loon lose it more than once on some poor, unsuspecting fool that made the innocent mistake of putting their hand on the touch-triggered bird the wrong way, the chief officer had made it a mental priority to always be mindful of his partner’s contact-based aggression and avoid touching him without warning, even after they’d started dating. He never made any “moves” on the darker fowl like he would with the girls he’d “dated” in the past- no sneaky arm finding its way around an unaware shoulder or waist, no sudden brush of fingers along the side of a striped neck, or even a suave attempt to steal a kiss. The rooster had a front-row seat to multiple showings of what the shorter man could do when someone didn’t properly respect his personal space, and he was determined to never be anything more than an observer if he could help it. He’d only taken what he was given and never even made a move to hold the aquatic avian’s hand.

While Dominic was definitely grateful for Steelbeak’s cautious-patience and respect for his boundaries, he felt the taller man fretted a bit too much about it from time to time. They’d been together for months now, seen each other through countless moments both life-threateningly dangerous and calmingly domestic. At this point, out of everyone in his life, his partner was the one person he felt the most confident that he wouldn’t hurt with one of his violent outbursts.

The discomfort would always be there in the back of his mind, Dominic knew this from the time he’d spent with his last partner and the others he’d dated before, but it was worth it for the warm feeling that bloomed within him. The contact was diluted by both of their gloves, allowing him to feel and familiarize himself with the sensation of Steelbeak’s palm and fingers against his own without letting the discomfort build up too much. He knew he would want more soon, and he could tell from the longing looks he’d caught when the rooster let his guard down from time to time that Steelbeak wanted it as well, but, right here, right now, it was enough for both of them to stand in the snow together with their fingers entwined.

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

The pair of snow-covered agents arrived back home just in the nick of time, giving themselves about fifteen minutes to change out of their winter attire, rid themselves of any traces of their pre-dawn excursion, and throw their usual coats on over top of more casual clothes to give off the image of readiness. They staged themselves in Steelbeak’s living room, acting like they were about to leave just in time for the communication screen to turn itself on.

“Chief Officer Steelbeak, Agent Domino.” The usual speaking member of High Command looked less than pleased. “There’s been a change of plans.”

Dominic, doing an excellent job of feigning ignorance, looked at his leader with a confused expression, one brow raised inquisitively. “Why? Did something happen to the device?” From the corner of his eye, he caught Steelbeak trying not to smirk and barely succeeding.

The silhouetted person shook his head with a scowl. “The Fearsome Four decided to bury the entire state in a snow storm. The mission is cancelled for now, but be ready in case the weather changes.”

Receiving a “Yes, sir” from both agents, the screen went dark once more.

Steelbeak gave his partner a knowing smirk. “Somethin’ tells me this storm ain’t stoppin’ for a while. How ‘bout we get nice an’ comfy ‘til then?”

Dominic gave a knowing smirk of his own. “Of course- we’ll need to save our strength for when it clears.”

There was a beat of silence before both of their expressions melted into amused grins and they laughed quietly over their flawless performance. The pair took off their coats and hung them on Steelbeak’s coat rack to enjoy their more comfortable attire- Dominic wearing a soft red turtleneck sweater and Steelbeak sporting a light grey long-sleeved Henley style shirt (again, who gets payed to pick these names?) with dark blue trim and a pair of slightly darker grey sweatpants.

Within half an hour they’d lit a fire in Steelbeak’s fireplace- Dominic withheld his remarks about how unnecessarily extravagant it was to have a fireplace in an apartment complex with fully functioning heat since, begrudgingly, he had to admit it was appropriately cozy on a day like this- and the loon was seated patiently in the same spot as last night while his partner brought him a more substantial breakfast than his earlier coffee.

As he waited, Dominic brought the tall mug in his hands to his lips and took a sip with a pleased hum. While it didn’t have the same kick as his previous drink, he wasn’t about to complain about the creamy hot chocolate Steelbeak had prepared for him- the kind made by pouring hot milk and cream over chocolate until it melted, not “that watered down powdered garbage” as the rooster would put it- especially not when he’d made him a peppermint one with red striped marshmallows. There were even bits of crushed candy cane coating the rim and a pair of full sized candy canes hanging from the edge. Picking one up by its crook, the content loon used the candy to briefly stir his drink and melt into it before popping it into his mouth and happily eating the remains.

Dominic had once mentioned to Steelbeak that candy canes were a preferred treat during winter when they’d been having a conversation about comfort food. The peppermint sticks were a childhood favorite- a preference that was quite fortunate since many places gave the sweet treats out for free once the “holiday spirit” began to spread, making it an easy to obtain a bit of food when his mother was unable to provide more than the bare minimum needed for the two of them to survive. His love for the striped sweets continued into adulthood, giving him a fondness for the simple candy whenever the season came about.

That bit of information had only been shared between the two once, but it was apparently enough for Steelbeak to plan ahead and keep a box of candy canes handy in his large pantry. He’d never admit he went out and purchased them simply because his partner liked them, though, even if he himself wasn’t as big of a fan of peppermint (that little prank on their first date probably didn’t help much).

This, Dominic had realized some time ago, was something Steelbeak did often- holding onto small, seemingly inconsequential bits of information and using them to surprise his partner later. Dominic mentions his favorite color while they’re making fun of a ridiculous fashion model show? He receives a new shirt in that color a few weeks later. Dominic makes a disgusted face and shudders upon seeing a cockroach while they’re in a warehouse? Steelbeak suddenly starts killing or removing any insects he sees when they’re together. Dominic mentions on their first date that he enjoys snow and ice skating? His partner pays supervillains to alter the weather and takes him out early to enjoy it properly.

It may have been an instinct developed after spending nearly two decades as a spy- information had value in their line of work, after all- or it may have simply been a trait unique to Steelbeak himself. Either way, Dominic found it extremely endearing and was grateful for his partner’s memory and small acts of care & consideration.

A plate fresh cinnamon rolls and blueberries being set on the coffee table in front of him brought Dominic’s gaze up to look at the very man who’d been occupying his thoughts.

Steelbeak, balancing a matching plate in one hand and a large mug of hot chocolate in the other, winked down at the loon as he set his own breakfast on the table near his end of the couch. “Told ya I had breakfast taken care of, Dom.”

“A good thing you did, too- I’m famished.” Dominic set his mug on the table and exchanged it for one of the enticingly large rolls on his plate. “I’ll pay you back by taking care of lunch.”

Steelbeak chuckled, knowing he wouldn’t win if he tried to argue. “Fine. But we split the difference at dinner. Deal?”

“Deal.” Dominic agreed with a quiet chuckle of his own before digging into his roll.

The pair sat and ate in comfortable silence for a while, enjoying their sweet treats and warm drinks in front of the crackling fire. Once they were finished, Dominic volunteered to take care of the dishes, despite Steelbeak’s adamant insistence that he didn’t need to- again, though, he knew he wouldn’t win once the other man stated he was going to take care of it.

When Dominic returned to the living room, he was surprised to see Steelbeak had wrapped himself in a large, heavily padded quilt in the time he’d been away. “Still feeling cold?”

“Kinda..” Steelbeak yawned and pulled the blanket tighter around himself, his legs drawn up under it as he sat curled up on the couch. “That an’ my adrenaline an’ coffee finally ran out…” Off-white fingers rubbed at extremely tired dark gray eyes. “Think I’m gonna be outta commission ‘til lunch…won’t hold it against ya if ya head back t’ your place.”

Dominic considered it for a moment, but eventually shook his head and picked up a book he’d left on one of Steelbeak’s end tables during his last visit. “I think I’ll stay.”

Steelbeak shrugged, settling in for a much needed nap. “Suit yourself, stripes..” His eyes were nearly closed when a weight against his side made them flutter open once more. “Hm..?”

Rather than take his usual spot at the opposite end of the couch, Dominic had opted to sit right next to Steelbeak- to the point where he was sitting sideways with his head reclined against the rooster’s blanket-covered shoulder and his legs were spread out over the empty cushions.

“Just getting comfortable.” Was the only explanation he needed to give.

Both men had soft, content smiles on their faces as they settled in for some much needed relaxation. They intended to enjoy their snow day as much as possible by doing as little as possible. After all, with this city’s unpredictable weather, who’s to say when they’ll get another chance?

Then again, Dominic thought as he opened his book to its marked page, perhaps the weather in St Canard wasn’t that bad.

End Notes: Hope you all enjoyed this wintery fun filled fic and have a happy holiday season =^.^=

#darkwing duck #dwd #Steelbeak #Dominic Domino #steeldomino #darkwing duck oc #dwd oc #not my oc #thefriendlyfour

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mysticsparklewings · 5 years

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Nightlights in the Deep

At last, I can finally show you guys what's been with the tree fever in my last couple of posts (Terrarium Nova and WIP Wednesday: Oops all Trees)

So the art supply company Arteza madea post on their Instagram a few days ago where they announced a contest to make art featuring trees and post it on Instagram with all the appropriate tags, open until September 26th (with prizes of course) and I thought it would be fun, especially since one of their suggestions was to design a tree.

And I also decided to add a little extra challenge to myself to stick primarily to the Arteza supplies that I have, since it's their contest. That meant I had their watercolors, colored pencils, and woodless watercolor pencils to pick from and play with. Although I did end up using quite a bit of gel pen (Sakura gelly rolls and a little of my white Uni-ball Signo) to get the bright pops of color I just couldn't get with the other supplies. The gel pens felt fairer to supplement with since I usually accent pretty much all my work with gel pen in some form or another.

Naturally, after I gave myself a few minutes to ponder how to stand out among a crowd of trees but also fit right in, my imagination ran wild with my own fictional tree species.

I pretty immediately landed on the idea of an underwater/deep-sea/bottom-of-the-ocean tree and also something with bioluminescence (things that naturally glow in the dark) and from there I starting searching for various tree and water-themed things on Pinterest to flesh out my ideas. From that, I very quickly arrived at the idea of a winding, twisting trunk like you might find on a bonsai tree. And while originally I really liked the idea of having wispy drooping petals and/or leaves like Wisteria or willow trees, after a few tests that didn't turn out as nicely as I wanted (as seen on the WIP Wednesday mentioned above) I decided maybe it would be best to go without this time around.

So the final concept I've ended up with for my trees here goes roughly as follows, although I'm no botanist or marine biologist so there's a good chance a lot of this doesn't check out scientifically:

The Nightlight tree, named for its bioluminescent fruits--called "moon fruits" for their whiteish glow, pale bluish color, and spherical shape--is a species of aquatic tree that is found growing anchored to rock formations and cave systems in the greatest depths of the ocean. As these trees exist in oceanic depths with minimal or no sunlight, they perform chemosynthesis rather than photosynthesis to make their own food until they reach maturity and can produce their own artificial light as a food supplement. Nightlight trees root systems can reinforce and stabilize the rock formations they anchor to in order to grow, which provides a more sound home and environment for the species of fish that will eat the "moon fruits," attracted by their bright glow, produced by the tree and aid in the tree's reproduction. Because of this, nightlight trees may grow in clustered groups or may grow so closely together that multiple trees twist and wind around each other, which can put strain on the trees' root systems and may cause development problems and may cause the younger of the trees to die. The bark of mature nightlight trees may also have a faint glow where the tree is thickest, as the bark is stretched more thinly around the nutrient carry "veins" found within the trunk of the tree, where the chemical process that causes the tree's fruit to glow begins. Nightlight trees attract and feed a variety of deep sea creatures and other bottom-dwelling vegetation, many of which feature bright flourescent colors or bioluminescent traits and may camoflodge with the moon fruits or the few brightly colored flower-like leaves that the moon fruits emerge from four times a year, peak season typically being in the spring. This provides these other species with a largely safe place to settle and reproduce while the tree is at its most forthgiving. Moon Fruits once detached from the tree will retain their glowing properties for approximately 7-10 days. Fruits that in that time find themselves on or around suitable growing conditions may then begin to take root and grow. Fruits that are not in suitable growing conditions within the time frame will then begin to decay and detoriate. Certain deviations or subspecies of nightlight trees may also be found in the depths of brackish or freshwater, but the most common sigular variety is the "White Light" variety found in oceanic saltwater.

Excuse me if that's a little all-over-the-place for a faux "knowledgable source about trees" article, but I think I managed to get the bulk of my ideas for how these trees work in there.

For a while, I also had the idea that if one of the trees ever did grow tall enough to reach the water with plenty of sunlight and/or poke out of the water that the exposed parts of the tree would die and/or become sicker with more sunlight exposure, so you'd have this really tall tree that's dead at the top but as you follow it down becomes progressively healthier until you reach the bottom and find this beautiful natural undersea garden with all these neon plants and animals it's supporting in its ecosystem. And while I do still like that idea, I don't think it's terribly realistic and I definitely couldn't fit all that would entail into this one artwork.

That said, I think you can probably see my reasoning for a lot of the artistic decisions I made here, so hopefully, I won't have to stop every five seconds to explain how the tree works while I go through what my artistic process was.

After some sketching to think through my ideas of the tree structure and possible fruit/foliage things and the practice/failed attempt pieces, I decided my best bet for the pseudo-vision I had in my head would be to make lines from the sketches I'd done as a base (as in my practice pieces where I attempted to free-hand everything things really got away from me pretty easily), and so I lifted the lines for the two trees, the caves, and some of the ground/sand from my sketches and transferred them to a piece of Canson XL watercolor paper, since I knew I wanted to work primarily with the Arteza watercolors and maybe (at the time but this ended up not being the case) the woodless watercolor pencils too.

And if I may, I'd like to take a moment here to say that while on some levels I do understand why some more versed in watercolor than I absolutely loathe the Canson XL watercolor paper, to me, it much like the premise of cheaper watercolors is not strictly terrible--it's a matter of what you're used to and what you learn to work with. If you can learn to work with what you've got, and that's what you get used to, then to a point it the quality almost doesn't matter. This paper does work differently from the more expensive/nicer watercolor papers I've tried, but it's so much more accessible that I have more of it, so I use it more, and by now I've learned a lot about how to work with it to get the results I want, so I'm less likely to encounter some of the problems other people seem to have with it. It all just depends on you, your taste, and how you work.

But enough of my paper mini-rant. Back to the artwork:

I knew from my practice pieces that part of the mistakes I kept making was not laying down layers further in the background first so that I wouldn't have to attempt to paint around/right up to them later, as well as layering up more would help me better achieve the darker, moodier undersea look I was aiming for. So after taking a picture of my lines and very quickly and sloppily doing a color mockup in one of the few drawing apps that still work with a Gen 4 iPad to figure out which paint colors to squirt onto a palette, I went in with an all-over layer of a darker blue for the background first, and I layered that up 2 or 3 more times to get it to a darker intensity.

It's still a little bit brighter than I was originally hoping for, but it still came out pretty nicely. Though I couldn't tell you how much of the ocean-ish texture is just textural properties of the particular paint color and how much of it was how I laid down the paint between all the strokes I did to even out the coverage and the additional layers.

After that was dry, I made a faux-pas (in that I would have to paint around them a little later) and moved on the stars of the show; the trees themselves.

The trees were probably the slowest and most methodical part of this piece. I very carefully went in and would do lines and then blend them out slightly when possible, trying to use the transparent nature of watercolors to my advantage. This was a slower process, especially as I would work my way up the trees and get to smaller branches (especially with the smaller tree) and had to switch to a smaller brush just to make sure I was staying within my lines. But I and my dark, moody purple did eventually get through it, and even with only the trees the background painted, I was really pleased with how they turned out.

Then I moved on to my little rock-cave things and the ground. The caves started out as a lighter ultramarine color, but it looked kinda weird so I did even up going back and adding a couple of additional layers and shading to try and add more depth, as well as I tried to stick with a dark blue only for the insides of the caves, but they ended up really seeming to need the addition of some black. The end result is a little too close in value between the trees, the caves, and the caves' insides, but there wasn't really a better way to remedy that beyond starting over, and after everything I'd been through to get to this point, I did not want to do that. So it stays as is.

The ground was actually relatively simple. Since I already had a blue background and I had decided a greenish color would be the best route to go, I just layered some yellow paint in the areas I wanted to look more like sand/ground and did the same kind of semi-blending as I did on the cave rocks and trees. And it worked just as well when I added the sand/ground moving towards the back that I hadn't pre-drawn in.

Now, I was trying to hold off doing the little moon fruits (which at this point were just bioluminescent orbs to me, I did all the naming after I finished the piece so I would know exactly what I was trying to name) until I had all the painting done, since the plan was to do them with the colored pencils, and I just kinda wanted to be able to say I was done and put all the painting stuff away before I moved on to that. That's how I usually work with my mixed media projects; I prefer to have a plan and get the majority of one medium or section done before moving on to something else. (Usually to have more desk space available but it also helps me keep things organized.)

And it was at this point that I realized my plans didn't look very under-water-ish. It kinda just looked like a moody dry-land landscape painting. Which is fine, but that's not what I wanted/was going for.

To remedy this, I started by adding some seaweed/kelp like plants to the ground. Which still looked largely just like funny grass or weeds.

It was at this point that I deviated from the actual artwork and moved back to my watercolor sketchbook to do some toying around. The main thing I did was practice trying to make coral or coral-like plants since I figured that might help with the whole ocean thing. And on the page where I ended up doing a lot of the practicing, I actually ended up taking a little extra time, later on, to make into kind of a bonus art piece, which I'll be posting by itself at some point in the future.

But I also practiced making bubbles and some other details we'll get to in a moment.

I tried doing the coral a few different ways but ultimately went with the way I see coral in my mind when I think of the word; this rounded cartoony kinda thing, even though that's not what real coral usually looks like. (I looked up pictures during the process out of curiosity) I don't know where this very specific imagery got implanted into my brain other than maybe Spongebob, but that still doesn't seem quite right, so I don't know.

And I have to say that the Neon Pink Arteza watercolor continues to be a favorite of mine, while we're here. It held up over the dark colors and compared to the gel pens infinitely better than I thought it would. Arteza, if you see this by chance, this is my plea--please make more neon watercolors if you can make them as good as this pink one!

*Ahem* Anyway...

After all that, I did step back from the watercolor and come in with the colored pencils. I didn't think I was almost done, but at the moment I didn't have much else in mind for the watercolors and figured it would be best to move to the pencils and then I could come back to the watercolors if I felt like I needed to.

I'm not sure if the Arteza colored pencils just don't like watercolor paper or something, but I had kind of a hard time applying the pencils and getting them to pop the way I wanted to, particularly in areas that had thinner paint coverage. This was the most notable in the bare ocean areas where I was trying to do the moon fruits, as the pencils worked a little better when I hit those darker patches of blue, and they liked working over the truck bark a lot better. To be fair, I know some of this is because most colored pencils have a hard time going over darker colors, as even my Prismacolor and Polychromos can have a hard time over my toned gray paper sometimes, but it still seemed like these were falling more flatly on that front than I had anticipated.

Either way, by this point it was late and I was exhausted, so I finished up what I wanted to do with the pencils--finally coloring the moon fruits, adding some additional texture to the sand, caves/rocks, coral, and trees--and decided to leave it until morning.

As I was cleaning up for the night, I was looking at that bonus art piece/practice page I talked about earlier, and I noticed a spot where the paint had done a kind of texture thing again (this time definitely more from how I applied it and less from the paint itself) and the shape, combined with me thinking of things I could do to continue to play up the "ocean" imagery and make my seascape look more lived in, made me think of sting or manta rays. More specifically that one would look really good in that spot, and about the time I completed that thought was when it dawned on me the key component I had been missing the whole time:

It's an ocean life scene. Where's the life part?? Do you know what lives in the ocean? FISH!

And I still couldn't tell why that just hadn't occurred to me until then.

So I went to bed knowing exactly what I was going to be looking up and practicing the next day to add to and hopefully complete my tree painting.

The next day, after many minutes spent prowling Pinterest for marine life silhouettes and having added a few rays to my practice piece, (and some nonspecific fish to the other couple of failed attempts since the practice-piece-turned-art was getting a bit crowded) I was off and added a manta ray, a small school of fish, and two other fishes just hanging out. Then I couldn't help myself and added a smaller ray in the leftover space that was just kind of begging for a little something more behind the other ray.

And I could have very well stopped there, but it was bothering me in the fresh daylight just how much the colored pencils had seemingly sunk back into the artwork. My bubbles I added the night before were so hard to notice! And the moon fruits...they just weren't popping at all the way I wanted them to.

I tried not to; I really did. I wanted to stick to just using the Arteza supplies that I had and maybe some white gel pen. But I had to do something to get the color to pop more, and the alternative was to pull out the white and neons from my Prismacolor pencils and between the two options, pulling out my Sakura Gelly Roll Moonlight pens, as I said earlier, felt less like I was deviating from the challenge. And for all I know, the Prismacolor pencils might not have popped as much as I wanted either, even if they popped more than the Arteza pencils. So gel pens it was!

I used my white Uni-ball Signo for the actual moon fruits themselves, and the gelly rolls for their little leaf-petals and some extra dots/texture on the coral. I also used the white gelly roll to add some additional "glow" to the tree bark and to revive the poor bubbles that had gotten so lost before. And then I went back later at different points to add the two moon fruits that fell, partly to fill in space and partly because it just made more sense to my brain to have at least some that weren't still on the trees.

Also, I'm not sure how well it reads, but I did go back and try to add more of a proper "glow" effect to the moon fruits with the white colored pencil, but I feel like I lost a lot of the minimal pigment I was getting by the time I used a blending stump to soften the edges.

It's funny to me; this was one of those pieces where I spent so much time with it and meticulously going over the details that at first I actually wasn't sure it was finished. It's one of those where I had to step back and let it settle in that I had seen my vision through to the end before I could properly "accept" it.

And you know, for as many challenges as I had with trying to invent my own tree species and the problem-solving I had to do throughout the process, I am really proud and happy with how the final piece turned out.

It's different; it's out of my comfort zone because I don't do landscape type things, and it challenged my creativity in a different way. And I feel like I was able to achieve what I set out to do with the piece.

And thanks to my hesitance to dive right into the final piece without testing, I also got a bonus art piece out of it, so yay two birds with one stone?

This may have started out as just another contest entry, but in the end, I'm really glad for the mini art journey this piece took me on, and even if I don't win anything in the giveaway (which realistically I probably won't), I'm happy just to have made the artwork. And that's kinda the most important thing, right?

Now, I have some commission work to do, but I also have a certain supply that's been sitting on my desk all week just begging to be used, and some other pieces in the works, so stayed tuned for that and that bonus art piece I keep talking about that came out of this piece.

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Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings

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Where to find me & my artwork:

#artfortrees #arteza #trees #underwater #ocean #sea #marine life

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beesartandstuffs · 6 years

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Shot in the Dark: Interim- Chapter 2

(THE SPOOPY MONTH IS UPON US!! Prepare for LOTS AND LOTS OF SITD CONTENT)

SHOT IN THE DARK MASTERLIST (find more stories here!)

Anna has always had this weird draw to her dead great-aunt.

It started out innocently enough— curiosity about the Manor Mystery, a cold case way back from the 50s. Her great-aunt, Emma Bailey, had died in that case, according to Anna’s dad, as well as the celebrity Markiplier, the then-current mayor Damien Crowe, and some other less-essential persons.

Anna was a bit of a history nut, even from childhood, so it was no wonder that such a mystery would grab her attention. Her parents humored her for a while, and then later when Dakota and I came along we did too. It seemed fairly harmless, and otherwise she was a fairly practical, mild person, so we didn't think much of it.

Then, when she and Dakota started dating, I thought maybe she would be over it. That seemed to be the case for about a year or so.

Then, one day, out of the blue, as the three of us sat around a table at our local coffee shop, she spoke up.

“So I bought the manor.”

Dakota and I exchanged glances, racking our brains to see if we remember what the heck she’s talking about.

She smiled brightly and stirred her Cafe Mocha. “It’s okay, I didn’t tell y’all about it before. I wanted it to be a surprise. It’s the Markiplier Manor, from the Manor Mystery!”

A look of dawning horror began to grow on Dakota’s face and I spoke up before he could exclaim in protest. “Wow, that’s crazy! How did you even find it!”

“Well~” She twirled a lock of her curly, strawberry-blonde hair around her finger, biting her lip. Dakota instantly melted and I released a breath. Crisis averted by a cute girlfriend. “I may or may not have been digging around,” she said. “And I managed to find the exact location. And it was for sale!”

“How much?” Dakota said, remarkably calmly for someone whose girlfriend appears to have gone off the deep end.

Anna named a figure, and I whistled. “That’s cheap.” I risked a glance at Dakota. “...Right?”

He shook his head, at a loss. “Insanely cheap.” He eyed Anna. “...Why was it so cheap?”

She smiled, a bit sheepishly. “Well, you know. Rumors.”

“Of?”

“It’s so haunted, isn’t it,” I whispered, my eyes widening dramatically.

Anna grinned, and Dakota groaned.

Anna and I high-fived. “That’s so awesome,” I laughed.

Dakota glared at me. “Don’t encourage her!”

“It’s just a house, babe,” his girlfriend said soothingly, reaching across the table to take his hand. He instinctively gripped it and she rubbed her thumb over his knuckles, tilting her head imploringly.

His brow was furrowed, but the hard lines in his face softened. “What do you plan on doing with the house, now that you’ve evidently bought it?”

“Explore! Investigate! Don’t you want to know what really happened to Emma and Markiplier and the others?”

“They died,” Dakota insisted. “They all died in a freak accident.”

“Actually,” I said slowly. “They… didn’t find any bodies. That was just the police report covering it up.”

Dakota gave me his best I can’t believe you’ve bought into this glare while Anna looked at me, impressed. “I didn’t know you looked into this kind of stuff,” she said.

I shrugged, smiling disarmingly. “What can I say? I love a good conspiracy.”

She laughed at that—a bright, delighted sound—and leaned over to kiss me on the cheek. “And we love our nerdy emo son.”

“It’s not emo, that’s an entirely different subculture—“

“Punk?”

“Flattering, but I’m not super into anarchy…”

“Goth?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it. What do you call all black, mostly t-shirts and skinny jeans, a few chains and minimalist jewelry, sometimes but not always accented by an obnoxiously loud pattern and/or color? “Probably not goth, either.”

Dakota leaned back, still holding Anna’s hand, and sipped his coffee casually. “Let’s just call it ‘Brendon Urie Style’ and be done with it.”

“That man is an inspiration,” I said over Anna’s laughter. “So I’ll take that as the highest of compliments.”

“Good. He has good music.”

Anna stopped laughing and stared at her boyfriend agape. “You listen to Panic! At the Disco?”

“What? I can’t be a stick-in-the-mud and like popular music? You expect too much.”

Anna and I exchanged glances, and simultaneously imagined a future of the most obnoxious, concentrated collection of references to P!ATD songs that the world had ever seen.

It was glorious.

“Anyway, back to what we were actually talking about,” Dakota said, effectively interrupting Anna’s and my temporary psychic link. “So you plan to just… explore and investigate the manor? For fun?”

“Well, it’s kind of remote,” she said slowly. “And it’s in the next city over, so… it wouldn’t be practical to drive back and forth every day.”

I could tell that Dakota knew where Anna was going with this, and didn’t like it at all. For once, I didn’t intervene, choosing to let this play out.

“Anna, you know I love you, right?” Dakota said slowly.

“Yes, of course!”

“You know I would give you the world if I could, right?”

“I don’t think I would trust myself with a dictatorship, but I recognize and appreciate the sentiment!”

He smirked a little at that, and I marveled at their weird shared sense of humor. “So with all that in mind, love of my life…” Dakota leaned forward and lowered his voice. “If you’re planning to live in that house let me be the first to say I love and support you, but that sounds like a dangerous, risky, kind of incredibly stupid idea.”

“Aw Dak, that’s not fair,” I protested, but Anna waved my words off.

“No, he’s right,” she said, in a tone of voice I recognized but hadn’t really heard come from her mouth before. “I’m not smart enough to take on something like that. I’ll probably get kidnapped on the first night.”

We were both taken aback. Anna had been angry before, even sarcastic, but this...this was bitter.

Dakota looked hurt. “You know that’s not what I meant,” he said softly.

That seemed to shift her attitude. “I know, babe, I just…”

Dakota worried his lip, then spoke up. “What if… I go with you?”

I nearly choked on my iced frappe.

From the get-go, the two had been incredibly, painfully clear that they weren’t going to live together until they legit tied the knot. It was something really important to both of them and they’d talked a lot about it. That Dakota would even suggest that they move in together… he must have been really worried.

Anna blinked at him, then frowned. “No.”

“It’s probably pretty big, we wouldn’t even have to see each other if we didn’t—“

“It’s not that, Dak, I just…” she sighed. “I… I need this, you know? I need to… be on my own. For once.”

Dakota looked like he wanted to argue more, but I understood instantly. Anna had grown up in this little city and never lived anywhere else. Even though she’d had her own house for a while… I knew what it was like to feel stifled. Trapped.

Dakota may have disagreed, but he bit his tongue. Maybe literally, judging by the look on his face.

"We'll visit her," I said. "Maybe we can take a weekend trip or something."

He looked at me. He still didn't say anything, but appeared to be relatively pacified.

"And we can facetime whenever you want," Anna added.

"Alright, alright." Dakota took a deep breath and leaned his elbows on the table. "... I still don't think this is a good idea, but… if this is something you really want to do, Anna, and you think you can do it safely, then… I'm not going to try to stop you."

Her answering smile lit up the whole cafe, and Dakota immediately relaxed.

I didn't need any convincing… I had been on board from the get-go. I was excited for her to have this opportunity, and Dakota was just a worry-wart. I wasn't going to try to keep her from exploring her past and learning new things about herself. I wasn't going to take that away from her.

Although these days… sometimes I wish I had.

To follow (and take part in) Emma and Damien’s story, go here.

Tag list: @mayor-damien-protection-squad @markired @blackaquokat @pleaseletthisjimbetaken @gravitykaz@jojored22@neverisadork @withjust-a-bite @221biotchplease @gmcfyuffins @the-asexual-reaper @satansladydoor (If I’ve tagged you and you don’t want to be tagged, please tell me! Inversely, if you would like to be tagged in these, don’t be afraid to ask!)

#markiplier #Who killed markiplier #wkm- shot in the dark #SitDLiam #SitDDakotaFarz #SitDAnnaBailey

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hellomissmabel · 7 years

Text

Bye Bye Brooklyn Boys (10)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky x reader, Steve x reader

Warnings: This is just so sad. Language.

Word count: 1.822 (had to cut this part in two to avoid it becoming more a novel than a fic series)

Summary: SPN CROSSOVER and a very special thank you to @a-little-hell-to-raise for helping me out with writing Dean!

September, October, November , December,

January , February, March, April

May

June

It’s been a month since Natasha and I had that very enlightening conversation about what truly matters in life and what didn’t make the cut. Our paths have crossed a couple of times since then but neither Steve nor myself acknowledge one another, terrified of the results of engaging in a conversation, deciding that ignorance is the best approach when you’re still suffering from a heartbreak that should’ve been resolved ages ago.

“That’s it for today, guys. Please make sure to hand in your paper by the end of the week or marks will be lost!” You conclude the lecture and swiftly leave the auditorium, checking your watch one last time to assess the damage done.

Immediately you’re distracted by your phone, fingers typing away on another message to Natasha telling her you’re not going to make it in time for girl’s night, the absolute highlight of your week. There had been minor technical issues and since you couldn’t start until they had been fixed, all courses had been suspended indefinitely. When you were finally able to resume your classes, you were also bombarded with more questions than you had initially anticipated, causing even more delay.

Dean was coming from the opposite direction, equally invested in his phone as he was trying to pinpoint where exactly it was again that he had agreed to meet with his brother Sam, filling in for another professor who called in sick and would be absent until further notice. He swore he put it down somewhere in his phone, but alas, nothing was to be found and just as he was about to round the corner, he bumped into you.

Squealing in surprise, you dropped your purse in front of him and quickly tried to scramble everything back together, noticing a stray tube of pink lipstick had made its way over to where the fine-looking stranger was standing. He bent down to pick it up for you, the taut muscles of his abdomen flexing under the tight grey shirt he was wearing. You would be lying to yourself if you didn’t consider the view to be mouth-watering to say the least, with his jade eyes and chestnut hair because clearly this man must be the personification of ruggedly handsome. He looks like a bad boy with his ripped jeans and leather jacket and although you’ve had some bad experiences with his kind, it would be such a shame to deprive yourself from this exquisite specimen of a human being.

After retrieving your lipstick he hands it back to you, his fingers briefly brushing your soft skin and you feel yourself being catapulted to cloud nine. Is this what it feels like to be struck by lightning? It wasn’t until he clears his throat for the third time in a row, you notice you are still holding on to the lipstick in his hand.

“If you wanted to hold my hand, sweetheart, you didn’t have to drop everything, you could’ve just asked me,” he chuckles softly, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and you’re desperately holding on to every last breath of air, his low voice and sexy accent sending goose bumps to rise all over your skin.

You inhale sharply, dropping your hand to your side. “Oh God, that’s so cheesy,” you laugh nervously and he smiles a big toothy grin, disregarding some of the weirdness between the two of you. “Does that line even work?”

“I don’t know, does it?” He kinks a suggestive eyebrow and his smirk grows even bigger, green eyes searching yours, watching intently.

“Uhm, yeah… Kind of… I guess,” you murmur as colour rises to your cheeks, tinting them a darker shade of pink. You avert your eyes and stuff your lipstick away. From the corner of your eye you can see him staring at you, blushing slightly when you look back up and catch him in the act.

He extends his hand and introduces himself, his handshake firm and his hands a little calloused. “I’m Dean, Dean Winchester.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” you say shyly, straightening your back a little so you’d make at least make a good second impression, “I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Y/N, such a lovely name,” he coos and shoots you a wink. If he was trying to seduce you with his voice then it was working like a damn charm.

“Well,” you cough a little, ridding yourself of the tight feeling in your chest, “I guess I better get going or my roommate is going to skin me alive.”

“We can’t have that now can we?,” he grins before adding “Hey, mind if I make it up to you?” and softly placing his hand on your upper arm.

Your eyebrows knit together in a frown, your voice suddenly dry at the possible suggestion of a date. “Make it up to me?,” you squeak, cussing internally at yourself for sounding like an excited squirrel.

“Yeah, how about pancakes? Tomorrow morning? There’s a nice diner a couple blocks away, my brother and I go there all the time. Best breakfast in town, you won’t regret it. Unless you have somewhere else to be, then I totally get it if you don’t want to - ”

“I would love to have breakfast with you, Dean,” you interrupt quickly. “Pancakes, I just love pancakes,” you blurt out, smiling shyly as his face breaks into a genuine smile and you find yourself laughing just a little bit more than before.

Mesmerized by his charming smile, you accept his offer and exchange numbers. He promises he’ll text you the address as soon as possible and will wait for you by the main entrance. It’s been a while since you set foot in the dating scene after any and all previous attempts turned out to be rather… disastrous. But Dean truly seems like a nice guy, so why not give it a shot?

You didn’t want to keep Nat waiting for too long anymore and if you would just hurry up a little more, you hoped you would still make it somewhat on time, casually late surely becoming your thing. The dinging of the elevator announced the sliding of doors and you called out to whoever was inside that they’d hold the door for you.

“Oh praise the lord,” you thanked the man who had been so kind to wait for you, but your cheerfulness quickly ebbed away when you saw who it was.

“Hi, Y/N,” his husky voice greeted you.

James.

James Barnes was standing in the elevator with you.

Fucking hell.

“H-Hi,” you stammered as your heart leapt out of your chest at the sight of him. His hair is longer and this length would probably make any other man look like a weirdo or a caveman but it does James all the more justice, making his appear so much more handsome and refined. He was wearing a light blue shirt, a dark blue blazer and a pair of blue trousers that snugly hugged the (not so) small bulge in his pants. He cleans up well, you thought to yourself as you drank him in a second time, very well.

I guess growing up looks different on everyone.

“What are you doing here, James?” I ask, giving him a tight-lipped smile.

Apparently he’s back on campus as professor T’Challa’s spokesperson, giving a couple guest lectures about the work they’ve been doing and harvesting a couple intrigued souls on the way. They need more people to engage in their project in order to make it a success but he’s very optimistic about the outcome and Nat was right, he’s really making a name for himself. It’s only ironic that’s the exact same reason he broke up with you in the first place.

“That does sound very exciting,” you acknowledge, “Although I always thought of Steve as the kind to stick around, not you.”

Steve has always been more of a scholar than James and you were sure he’d one day take up the title of professor, yet he followed after Sharon and moved as far away as possible, someplace with a minimum chance of ever running into you again.

You ran away, he ran away.

Great minds think alike.

James on the other hand seems to have followed in your footsteps. “Don’t get me wrong, but you just didn’t strike me as the academic type. I guess professor Barnes does have a nice ring to it,” you reply jokingly, letting out a light laugh.

I clearly remember a time where the only thing he could talk about was escaping this very campus. James used to be this adventurous spirit with wild hopes and big dreams and I can’t help but wonder what happened. Was I responsible for such a drastic change in character?

“Well,” he chuckles softly and you waver just the tiniest bit as his crystal blue eyes fix on yours, momentarily travelling down towards your lips before locking eyes with you once more.

How was he supposed to tell you this? How was he supposed to tell you that he did all of it for you? That he secretly hoped you’d one day return to the scene of the crime and pick up where professor Stark left off, that the path of science is the only path that could ever lead him back to you? He climbed up the food chain for you, not out of passion for science although he appreciates the opportunities he’s been given.

He did all of it just so he could see you again.

“I guess you could call it an epiphany. One day I woke up and decided I wanted to pave my way in the world of science. I’ve always loved science, just as much as you. Okay, maybe not as much as you, but you get the idea.”

There’s an awkward pause afterwards, his words settling in your bones with an unfamiliar weight. The elevator comes to a halt and the doors open not long after that, concluding your little trip down memory lane. Just as you’re about to part ways again, his fingers lace around your wrist and you freeze at the sudden contact, his touch scorching hot on your skin.

“Can I ask you one thing?,” he whispers shyly, morose blue eyes staring back at you.

“Sure,” you nod and he lets go of you, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “Why do you always insist on calling me James? Ever since we met, you’ve never, not even once, called me Bucky.”

You let out a deep sigh, the corners of your mouth turning downwards. Oh, how you wish you had been stronger. But you were young and quick to get into trouble, since trouble is all that boy means, just not fast enough to escape him.

“It’s because all your friends call you Bucky and I always wanted to be more than just your friend, James.”

Part 11: July

Tagging: the ever-wonderful @beccaanne814-blog @kiwi71281 @a-little-hell-to-raise @unpredictable-firecracker @marvelingatthewonder @emilyinwonderland3 @mrshopkirk @oopsmybagofplums @hardcorehippos @iiharu-kunii @knittingknerdy @winterwolf57 @dontbeamenacetotheforce @winterboobaer @shamvictoria11@thedragonblood @hymnofthevalkyries @feelmyroarrrr

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imagineclaireandjamie · 7 years

Note

Using a mirror, Bree paints a picture of her and William together and they give it to Jamie for his birthday. Jamie is so touched he tells them a dream he had in the cave of the two of them playing together.

Bree’s head was bent over the tattered parchment, charcoal stick in hand, and her tongue poked out the corner of her mouth with concentration. The picture coming to life with each line and smudge.

“That’s it, a leannan.” What she believed to be her Grannie’s voice floated through her mind, urging her forward with each stroke.

Bree smiled, her heart beating faster as a sense of excitement and urgency overcame her. The strokes became haphazard and sloppy, but the images became more defined despite the mess.

A curl here, a shaded smudge there until the scrap of paper was filled from edge to edge. Once the likeness of herself was complete, Bree tossed the small mirror to the side and focused on the blanket covered figure next. She compared and used her own features to help create the face of an unseen baby.

“Mama!” Bree yelled, not taking her eyes off her task.

Claire waddled into the great room where her daughter lay next to the fireplace, Bran and Luke asleep beside her. “What is it, my love?” she asked, placing a hand on her swollen belly.

At this, Bree looked up to her mother. “Where are Grannie Ellen’s paints? Auntie Jenny said I may use them if I like.”

“I don’t know where they are. Have you asked your Auntie?”

Bree shook her head and frowned. “I dinna ken where she is to ask, but I knew you were nearby. Da doesna let you out to so much as pull a weed!” The small girl giggled at her mother’s glare.

“Think you’re so funny, do you? Well I’ll see if Mrs. Crook knows where they are. What are you going to paint?”

At this, Bree excitedly jumped up, thrusting the drawing overhead so that her mother could see.

“I’m going to use paint to accent this!” Claire took the drawing from the little girl vibrating with joy. “It’s for Da! So that he can have both of us with him.” Bree’s eyebrows furrowed. “Although, I dinna ken if I have a baby brother or sister. And I dinna ken what they look like, so I made the baby look like me! Once they’re born, I’ll paint Da a new one!”

Claire took in the messy drawing; to her it was squiggles on the page, but to her daughter, it was a masterpiece. Reaching out to tuck a stray ruddy curl from Bree’s face, Claire smiled then cupped her cheek. “Your Da will love this.”

“You really think so?” Bree’s voice was no more than a whisper.

“I know so.”

Two hours, a broken wooden leg, three screaming children, and an exasperated set of adults later, Bree had her Grannie’s paints and set to work on filling in color.

Twirling the brush, she added bright blue eyes to herself and the baby, followed by a bright mix of orange, yellow and red hair for herself and a more subdued orange and brown for the baby.

It was finished.

It was incredible in her eyes. It had just the right amount of color to balance out the deep black of the charcoal.

Carefully, Bree laid the still wet parchment on the hearth before laying down to watch the flames flicker.

She awoke to the sound of heavy boots thudding against the steps. The daylight had gone, the fire stoked to a roar in front of her, and beside her lay the drawing which had begun to curl about the edges.

“Sassenach?” The deep rumble of her father’s voice filled the hall.

Her body was filled to the brim with excitement as she dashed out of the room, drawing clutched protectively at her chest.

“DA!” she squealed. Jamie turned and lifted her into his arms eliciting giggles from her.

“Hello my wee one,” he said, pulling her head to his chest.

Bree breathed in deep the scent of the forest, mud and her Da. “I made you something.”

“Och! Ye did?” He smiled brightly. “Is it behind your nose? Or maybe under your chin?” Jamie leaned in and kissed and rubbed his beard on his daughter’s skin causing her to giggle and squeal stop, but he couldn’t dream of stopping that beautiful giggle.

“It’s right here!” Still breathless from laughing, Bree pulled the painting into view.

Jamie’s eyes went wide as he sat down, Bree perched on his knee. “You made this?”

She nodded enthusiastically, messy curls bobbing. “It’s me and the new baby,” she told him.

“Aye, I see that. Ye are the one here with the long curly red hair and the bright blue eyes. And this one,” he pointed to the blob of lines and paint, “must be your new sibling. It’s absolutely beautiful.”

“I’ve been practicing! Once Mama has the new baby I’ll paint another one with how they really look.” Bree beamed.

“Thank you, mo chridhe. I will keep this with me always.”

“I thought you’d like to put it in your hiding cave. That way you have both of us with you all the time instead of just when you come back to the house in the middle of the night,” Bree whispered.

Jamie’s eyes stung with unshed tears. He pulled his daughter tight to him. “You’re always with me, mo nighean ruaidh. I dream of ye and the unborn ween everyday. I canna wait to see and have you both so close to me in sleep that I have to see ye while I dream.”

“Really?” she asked, eyes wide.

“Aye. Everyday is different, but it’s always the same when it comes to who’s there.”

“Oh! Can I guess?”

Jamie laughed and nodded. “Go ahead, ye already ken two of the people.”

“Ye dream of me and the baby, Mama, Auntie Jenny, Uncle Ian, and all the people at Lallybroch!” She began to giggle as Jamie tickled her sides.

“Aye, ye named most of them. I do dream of yer Mama always, and of my godfather.”

Bree wrinkled her nose. “Why would you dream of stinky, grumpy Uncle Murtagh? He’s in the cave with you!”

Jamie heard stifled laughs that echoed his own. Claire, his sister, brother-in-law, and ‘stinky’ uncle all stood a few paces away.

“I dream of him, and all of you, because I love you.”

#cleverlassie #;mod wtt #one shot #alternate universe #featuring: bree #bree grows up at lallybroch #jamie and murtagh live in the cave #pregnant claire #featuring: unborn headcanon william!

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isabellelambert1975 · 6 years

Text

Accessible garden ideas – how to make a garden everyone can enjoy

Does an accessible garden only matter to people in wheelchairs? Or to the partially sighted, or to someone with a chronic illness?

What about mothers with small children, or grannies…or those who worry when paving or decking gets slippy in winter…?

Mark Lane of Mark Lane Garden Design and the BBC Gardeners World at his home in Kent.

Mark Lane is the UK’s first garden designer in a wheelchair. He is also one of the presenters on BBC Gardeners World.

Mark showed me around the garden he shares with his partner, Jason, as well as talking to me about how you design an accessible garden.

That means a garden which is beautiful, safe, secure, welcoming and (preferably) usable for 365 days a year.

How long do you plan to live here?

Most of Mark’s garden design work is for private gardens where accessibility isn’t a specific element of the brief.

However, he still asks people to think about how long they plan to live with the garden. ‘None of know what’s round the corner,’ he says, ‘so it’s worth future-proofing your garden to some extent.’

Aster ‘Twilight’ against Jackson’s acoustic fencing, in Mark and Jason’s garden. Mark says he always asks clients what colours they want in the garden – and he doesn’t mean flower colour. He means the colours of the paths, fences and structures. I think this pale fence really shows off his autumn colour.

Interestingly, there’s legislation around how accessible new homes must be but it doesn’t extend to the garden around the home.

So if you’re doing a re-design, think beyond the next year or so. In five years’ time, will your needs be different? What about thirty years’ time? Of course, you can make changes further down the line, but sometimes it’s cheaper and better – in the long run – to get it right first time.

Key areas for accessible garden design

Mark talked to me about paths, edging, lighting, garden furniture and planting, and how you can maximise safety or accessibility. These issues apply to all gardens, not just gardens which need to be accessible for specific conditions.

The first thing that surprised me when I arrived at Mark and Jason’s house was the wide gravel path that leads all round the garden.

But Mark says that gravel is a cost-effective choice for paths. If you’re creating an accessible garden, you’ll probably want a path that goes everywhere in the garden, and that can get expensive. Mark and Jason’s garden is nearly an acre (middle-sized!), so that’s alot of path.

If you lay a gravel path properly, it will be fine for wheels (and that means wheelbarrows and buggies, too).

A wide gravel path goes all round Mark’s garden, with paths leading off it so that Mark can access benches, statues and all borders.

You need what’s called a secure MOT type 1 base. This is a sub-base made of crushed recycled concrete, consisting of lots of different-sized chunks. It is compacted down to make it very secure (it’s used as a base for roads, too).

Then Mark had a layer of gravel added and pounded down, so that it, too, was very secure. This was followed by a top layer of gravel (‘so it’s only top few inches that move’, he says).

‘The National Trust uses a self-bonding gravel, for example,’ he says, ‘because it’s easy to lay and repair.’

More accessible garden path advice

Under the pergola, the gravel path slopes slightly. To stop gravel sliding down to the lowest part, it has been laid in lateral sections. This is a grid below the surface level of gravel so it can’t be seen.

Other options include poured rubber or even Tarmac. If you use pavers, remember that they can get uneven over time, which could be a trip hazard or be difficult for wheelchairs.

The gravel path with its timber lip concealing a long run of LED lighting. Here seen leading to the ‘white border.’

Paths need to be wide enough for two people can walk along them together. That also makes them wide enough for a wheelchair, a wheelbarrow, a buggy or perhaps for someone using a stick or walking frame or who has someone else walking beside them.

Edging is important

Edging is important in accessible gardens. Someone using a wheelchair or walking frame, the visually impaired or those using a stick need to feel where the path ends and the border begins. Mark has raised timber edges around his paths.

On top of the low timber edging, there is a small overhang (made of a fence topping, in fact). This means that his wheelchair can sense where the border is. And it also conceals a long run of LED lighting. ‘When it’s dark, the paths are lit and the whole garden seems to float above it,’ says Mark.

The almost teasel-like heads of Eryngium agavefolium and a cloud of blue Aster ‘Twilight’ are kept in their place by privet hedging.

He also has privet hedging at around hand height. This stops plants from flopping over the ground. It’s also at the right height – Mark can cut the privet edging himself.

Accessible garden seating

Seating is one of Mark’s bugbears. ‘Everyone is a different height, so why don’t we have different heights of seating in a garden?’ he asks. ‘

He suggests varying the heights of your seats, benches or perches around the garden, so that they are equally comfortable for children and very tall or small people.

In fact, this is something we do without thinking inside our homes. As an exercise, I’ve just checked the heights of the chairs and sofa in my sitting room. There are five different heights. Although they don’t vary hugely, one chair is much more comfortable for tall people. Another is my favourite (I’m the shortest in my immediate family).

Chairs (at two different seat heights) around a table that Mark can get his wheelchair under.

He also suggests having some garden benches with arm rests and others without, because if you want to transfer from a wheelchair to a bench, an armrest can get in the way.

And tables need to be a specific height for wheelchair users – you can’t get a wheelchair properly under some tables, even tables in restaurants.

A new look at garden lighting

Lighting is obviously a big safety issue, not just in accessible gardens but for all of us.

Mark says you should think of your garden lighting the way you think of the lighting in your home.

You’ll need big spotlights where you need to do practical things like take out bins or clear away tables, accent lights to outline a tree and atmospheric lighting at the table. But think about the height of a wheelchair – a row of bollard lights, for example, is at absolutely the wrong height. It will dazzle a wheelchair user.

He also says coloured lights should only be used decoratively – ‘it’s impossible for a wheelchair user to negotiate a path lined at ground level with rows of blue lights,’ he says. (I get the feeling he is thinking of a specific path here, as I’ve never seen a path lined with blue lights. But that might just mean I’m a bit behind the fashion.)

Should you choose easy-care planting?

Mark believes its important to get the structure of a garden right first, and then to consider the planting.

Like most garden experts, he just doesn’t really believe in what is called ‘low maintenance gardening’.

But he does point out that grasses and perennials are relatively easy care: ‘you chop them down once a year, and they pop up again the next’.

Forsythia in its autumn glory, hydrangea ‘Vanilla Fraise’ and the tree lupin or Lupinus Arboreus. Shrubs and perennials are easier to care for than annuals.

He also says it’s important to think about where branches and plants overhang – something that you might brush your hip against could hit a wheelchair user in the face.

Trees are also easy to look after, but don’t let branches overhang at the wrong height. Gleditsia shedding the last of its autumn leaves.

More of Mark’s garden on video

See more of Mark’s garden here on this video:

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Be realistic

In the end, Mark says that there’s no such thing as a ‘fully accessible’ garden. People’s needs are so different. But he advises thinking in a logical way about the needs of the person or the group of people who are going to use the garden. There are more posts about garden design here: see Adam Frost’s garden design tips or discover the essentials of garden design from the professionals at KLC.

Find Mark Lane Designs here or catch up with BBC Gardeners World here. Mark is also involved with a number of charities, including Accessible Gardens.org, who have a directory of accessible gardens. When I mentioned this to a friend of mine she asked – aren’t they obliged to be accessible by law?

Well, there’s the law, and there’s commonsense – Mark says that designers may make an entrance wide enough for a wheelchair, but still have a small lip on the ground which stops the wheelchair in its tracks. And I don’t suppose that lip is much fun for those who have to trolley a wheelbarrow full of compost over it…

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from The Middle-Sized Garden https://www.themiddlesizedgarden.co.uk/accessible-garden-ideas-how-to-make-a-garden-everyone-can-enjoy/

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DGB Grab Bag: More Price Is Right, the Sedins, and Kovalev's Shift

Welcome to Sean McIndoe's weekly grab bag, where he writes on a variety of NHL topics. You can follow him on Twitter. Check out the Biscuits podcast with Sean and Dave Lozo as they discuss the events of the week.

Three stars of comedy

The third star: Evgeni Malkin and Roberto Luongo. Forget about MMA star Connor McGregor crossing over to fight Floyd Mayweather in a boxing ring. What happens when Instagram legend Malkin crosses over to take on reigning NHL Twitter champ Luongo? Well, not much. They basically trade highlight clips.

That was kind of disappointing. They're probably just building to the rematch.

The second star: Erik Johnson. The veteran defenseman dropped in on some golf talk with a nice call back.

The first star: Alexander Ovechkin. The Capitals star celebrated his wedding reception in the traditional way: by getting up on stage and belting out a few shirtless bars of Rasputin.

I know, I know, people are going to say he looks like he's had a few too many. But remember, this is Ovechkin. We know he always heads home after two rounds.

Outrage of the week

The issue: Last week in this column, we suggested that all new contracts should be announced using the little mountain climber guy from The Price Is Right.

The outrage: That's a brilliant idea and it's an outrage that the NHL didn't immediately implement it.

Is it justified: OK, maybe nobody came out and said that specifically, but I think I'm capturing the gist of it. People seemed to like the idea, so here's hoping somebody in the NHL sees fit to steal it. I won't even be mad—they can consider it a gift.

Plenty of you had a follow-up question: If the NHL is going to steal the Cliff Hanger game to unveil contracts, then surely there are more Price Is Right games that could be used for other announcements. But which ones?

The whole idea is bizarre and kind of pointless, which is to say that it's pretty much the perfect off-season discussion topic. I don't claim to have come up with a definitive list, and I'm open to any ideas you may have, but I think I've got a solid start with the games below.

Department of Player Safety suspension decisions: This one is Plinko. I mean, it's almost too obvious, right? You decide what kind of suspension the play actually warrants, then put that in the middle of the board and invite the offending player to come drop a chip. Then we all watch as it bounces down and winds up on "one game," "small fine," or "nothing at all" instead. Wait, come to think of it, they may be using this system already.

Arbitration hearings: The game where the player has to punch out holes in a wall to reveal dollar amounts, which I always thought was called "Punch Out" but is apparently called "Punch-a-Bunch". Either way, it would be an improvement on the current system, in which every young player in the league files for arbitration, only one or two cases actually make it to a hearing, and the arbitrator just splits the difference because that's what they do every time.

Trade negotiations: We'll use Three Strikes. The GM pushing to make a trade will have to draw discs out of a bag, hoping to come up with a combination that gets a deal done before they pull three strikes and the other GM hangs up. For a bit of added realism, all the discs in Kevin Chevaldayoff's bag are strikes.

Award voting: In a modified version of the Race Game, members of the PHWA will rush around a stage trying to match the names of players with where they place on a ballot. Once all the names are in place, the contestant races back and pulls a level to find out how many of the players' positions they managed to get right.

The next CBA talks: Following in the footsteps of the infamous Clock Game, the NHLPA will shout out guesses for their next share of hockey-related revenue while Gary Bettman responds "higher" or "lower." It will be essentially the same as the TV version, with two key changes: Bettman says "lower" every time, and instead of 30 seconds the whole process takes half a season.

The Washington Capitals in the playoffs: Too easy.

Obscure former player of the week

Rick Tocchet left his assistant's job in Pittsburgh this week to take over as the head coach in Arizona. The Penguins replaced him with Mark Recchi, which is kind of neat, because the two were once traded for each other in a 1992 blockbuster. So for this week's obscure player, let's go with another forward who was once dealt for Recchi: big center Krys Kolanos.

Kolanos was the Coyotes' first-round pick in the 2000 draft, going one pick after Brooks Orpik. The next year, he scored the national championship-winning goal in overtime for Boston College on a beautiful solo effort. He made the Coyotes for the 2001-02 season, playing 57 games and scoring 11 goals.

By far the most memorable of those goals came against Patrick Roy on a penalty shot, after which Roy had an epic meltdown and got himself kicked out of the game. That goal was named the fourth greatest moment in franchise history earlier this year, which probably tells you all you need to know about how the first two decades in Arizona have gone for the Coyotes.

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Kolanos suffered through concussion problems during that rookie year, and missed most of the 2002-03 season. He returned to the NHL for half a season in 2003-04, scoring four goals. When the NHL resumed after the lockout, Kolanos endured a bizarre season that saw him switch teams five times in less than a year. The Coyotes lost him on waivers to Edmonton in November, claimed him back a month later, and then dealt him to Carolina for legendary draft bust (and one-time Eric Lindros trade chip) Pavel Brendl. Three months later, the Hurricanes sent him to the Penguins along with Niklas Nordgren and a pick for Recchi. And then in the off-season he signed with Detroit.

After all of that, he never suited up for the Red Wings, and vanished from the NHL entirely until 2008-09, when he played 21 games for the Wild. That was it for two more years, before he had one last run with the Flames in 2011-12.

All in all, Kolanos's NHL career spanned over a decade but included just 149 games. He scored 20 goals, only three of which came after he left the Coyotes. Injuries, including those concussion troubles as a rookie, largely derailed what had been a promising career. At the very least, he can say that he was traded for one Hall of Famer, and made another one flip out and throw his stick at a referee. That's not a bad NHL run.

Trivial annoyance of the week

This week's trivial annoyance is that the Sedins keep screwing up top-ten lists.

Look, stay with me, I said it was trivial.

Earlier this week, I wrote a piece about active players who'd spent their entire career with one team but might not finish that way. I thought it made for an interesting topic, and I figured the easiest way to approach it would be to start with a list of the ten active players with the most games played for one franchise. That's pretty standard stuff on the web these days—everyone likes a nice, easy-to-digest top-ten list.

But then I ran into a problem that pops up on a lot of these lists: the Sedins. Do they count as one entry or two?

On the one hand, they're clearly two different people. On the other, everything you're saying about one almost always applies to the other, so you have to list them together or it just looks weird. You're basically left with three options:

Count them as one entry, in which case angry commenters will snottily point out that your top-ten list has eleven players on it.

Count them as two entries, in which case angry commenters will snottily point out that your top-ten list has only nine entries.

"Accidentally" forget to include them in the list altogether, in which case angry commenters will complain about some minor typo you made three months ago because nobody hugged them when they were a child.

I've tended to lean toward Option No. 1, although I'll be honest, No. 3 is looking better and better as we go. We're another year or two away from the Sedins announcing their retirement, at which point they'll walk off to a standing ovation marred only by one voice angrily yelling, "Boo, you occasionally made my job slightly more difficult" in a heavy Canadian accent.

Classic YouTube clip breakdown

Tomorrow marks the 23rd anniversary of one of the stranger coaching transactions in NHL history: Mike Keenan using a contract loophole to bolt the Cup-champion Rangers and join the St. Louis Blues. The resulting ordeal included lawsuits, fines, suspensions, and eventually a forced trade to sort it all out.

So today let's recognize the anniversary by looking back on Keenan's greatest moment as Rangers coach. No, not winning the Stanley Cup—that comes a distant second. No, today we need to look back at The Shift.

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It's February 23, 1994, and the Rangers are hosting the Bruins. It's not going well; we're midway through the second period, and Boston is up 5-1. More important, Keenan is angry at Alexei Kovalev for taking long shifts. He's about to teach him a lesson. Or so he thinks.

Fun fact about Alexie Kovalev that I learned from this video: He would periodically glow. Those enigmatic Russians, man, they just can't help showing off.

As our clip starts, the announcers are talking about the Bruins' new defensive system of occasionally clogging up the neutral zone. Other teams, most notably the Devils, were using the same strategy, and it was making it a lot tougher to generate offense. I'm not sure if it ever caught on, but if it did I'm sure the NHL worked something out before scoring plunged for two decades.

After an icing, the Bruins get some extended pressure in the Rangers' end. Kovalev takes care of that with one of the great zone exits of all-time, as he picks up the puck at the top of the circle, heads back behind his own net for some reason, dekes out two Bruins who then slam into each other, and then fights through a hook to get it out. Every now and then, Kovalev was the best.

This all ends with Kovalev drawing a penalty, although in hindsight he just kind of falls over once the puck is gone. But cut him some slack, he'd been out for over two minutes by this point and was probably tired.

We find out that the Rangers power play is 1-for-2 on the night, and are also reminded that this was back when ESPN thought using all-lowercase fonts was cool.

The Rangers can't get much going, as the puck goes up and down the ice without much in the way of action. Hey, is the fact that both goalies are under 5'10" throwing you off as much as it is for me? It wasn't remotely unusual back then, but compared to today's goalies, Glenn Healy and Jon Casey both look like someone rolled a party of halfling clerics. Pekka Rinne could eat both of these guys during a stoppage and then rehinge his jaw in time for the next face-off.

Kovalev is still out there, and his exhaustion shows when he falls over twice in the span of a few seconds. The second one gets called, giving the Rangers a two-man advantage with Kovalev drawing both penalties. And with that, Kovalev finally heads to the bench for a well-deserved… nope, wait, I'm being told that Keenan is sending him back out.

According to Keenan, he didn't just keep ordering Kovalev to stay on the ice—he actually had his players physically shoving him back onto the ice whenever he got near the bench. Why is Keenan not in the Hall of Fame? OK, other than "Coaches apparently have to be dead to make it in"? I can't wait for the "Mike Keenan faked his own death to get in the Hall of Fame and then showed up at the ceremony" story in a few more years.

The Rangers still can't score, but we do get a minor collision between Ray Bourque and Mark Messier that our bored announcers try to turn into a controversial hit. By the way, it's an underrated highlight of this video that the announcers never actually notice what's going on with Kovalev. That's something I would do, except instead of a long shift it would be wasp-infested tool shed and instead of Alexei Kovalev it would be one of my children.

After an extended discussion of a Brian Leetch slump, we arrive at the punchline I think we all knew was coming: Kovalev getting a scoring chance and immediately hammering a slapshot past Casey for a goal, because of course he does. This is just how this story had to end. The lesson, as always, is there are no lessons, and trying to teach one is a waste of time.

Kovalev, of course, is sent right back out for the next shift, and when Messier takes a minor hit to put the Rangers down a man with 15 seconds left in the period, Kovalev even stays out to kill the penalty. We get a replay of Casey getting beat on the perfectly placed slapshot, at which point every Blues fan has a sudden urge to start punching their screen.

The period ends, and with it Kovalev's shift. There's some dispute as to just how long he was out there; this clip from the NHL has it at five minutes, but that starts after the original too-long shift. Most retellings have it topping seven minutes, with some stretching as high as ten. And despite all that, I still can't decide if this was the highlight of Kovalev's entire career, or this was.

The best part of the entire story: According to one version which may not be true but which I choose to believe because it's so perfect, Kovalev never even realized he was being punished. He figured he'd done something right, and Keenan was rewarding him by letting him stay out for as long as he wanted.

Have a question, suggestion, old YouTube clip, or anything else you'd like to see included in this column? Email Sean at [email protected] .

DGB Grab Bag: More Price Is Right, the Sedins, and Kovalev's Shift published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

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