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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

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masterpost • main masterlist • taglist & faq

previously on...

Witchy stuff! Disclaimer: I am not a witch so please do not take my theory of theory seriously. This has been taken off first page of Google, which is where I did my research. First ironstrange x reader interaction & tony being sweet and stephen radiating wife energy.

fun fact: the moodboards are just chapter spoilers without context.

Whatever protection spell the book had, it was nuclear. Burn cream didn't do much in terms of numbing the pain; I had to wear gloves throughout my shift at the café, self-conscious about the skin peeling off my palms and the light, sensitive fingertips. Saying that the day was hellish would have been too kind.

My spirits were briefly lifted when one of my favourite mad scientists walked in, nose buried in a StarkPad - his chattier, more confident friend nowhere to be seen. Doctor Bruce Banner lifted his eyes from his work only to give a brief, polite smile and mumble his order, immediately resuming the poking of the screen.

"You forgot something last time," I couldn't suppress the grin. Sometimes routine was nice, comfortable. The napkin with unintelligible scribbles and formulas in my hand was transferred to Banner's pocket with a shy smile and a reddish tint to his cheeks, as if he didn't find himself in this very situation more often than not. "Is Mr. Stark okay?" I voiced my concerns, having noticed the recent, acute absence of the rowdy man in the café. Dr. Banner rarely came here alone and it was more of a telling exception than anything.

"Oh, Tony? Yes, he's fine," the scientist nodded absentmindedly. "He's on a small vacation with his boyfriend," the last part was said with puzzlement and incredulity and I had to remind myself that a forty-something scientist was unlikely to possess at least a halfway decent gaydar. I mean, I would have eaten my shoe if Tony Stark was 100% straight.

The fact that Tony having a boyfriend surprised Dr. Banner, who appeared to be one of Mr. Stark's best friends, was quite funny to me. "Good for him, he deserves it after saving the world, like, a bajillion times," I replied honestly, attempting to hide my good-natured snicker at Banner's obliviousness. Scientists, they just are a different breed, man.

The perplexion melted off Banner's face, leaving only supportive contentment. "That is correct," he nodded confidently, exchanging a bill for his matcha. "Thank you. And, uh, congrats on your new job," he added with another one of his not-quite shy smiles.

My cheerfulness vacated the premises shortly afterwards as I struggled to keep up with the endless stream of customers all the while my hands throbbed and burned under the nitrile gloves. I was ready to call it a day and just tell Jeremy I had an accident, but my pride wouldn't let me. I arrived at Odette's feeling less than stellar, running purely on spite and several cups of espresso.

It went about as good as expected, select few customers growing clouds over their heads at the slow pace I was assembling their orders: the fact that even witches had Karens of their kind was a fact that I found both amusing and alarming. It wasn't particular comfortable, knowing that I, or any other wait staff, was always at risk of being cursed for bringing them the wrong kind of cake or messing up their white suburban mom coffee.

"You could have asked, you know," Odette's slow drawl startled me out of the trance I'd put myself in to avoid focusing on the discomfort. "Come here, girl, I'll take care of it."

My face heated up immediately as I realized the tender skin of my grubby little hands was on full display. Odette must've put two and two together, seeing my sins written all over my scarred hands and my guilty face. Not wanting to invoke a negative reaction and get on her scary bad side, I let myself obediently trot into her office.

"I, uh," the eloquence of my speech - spectacular. I was ready to fall through the floor out of of shame.

"It happens sometimes," a round jar of what looked like buckwheat honey landed on the table. Odette massaged the thick gel into my palms with gentle circular motions, shushing my hums of pain in-between. "The book called for me in the same way it called to you. The only difference, it was my grandmother's at the time so the protection wards did not go off because I was family." My eyebrows rose at the calm in Odette's voice. Composed as ever, the witch looked more amused than upset by my little snooping stint.

The pain in my hands disappeared completely, a cool sensation I could only describe as minty enveloping them and spreading throughout my body. The chill was pleasant - I hadn't even realized my body had been running on higher-than-usual temperatures ever since I touched the book. Those protection wards Odette spoke of, they really packed a punch!

"I will teach you," she must've interpreted my stunned silence as curiosity, having made up her own mind in the seconds I was basking in my newfound relief. "We'll start slow. The transition from the material world into the spiritual isn't easy," Odette warned, locking her fingers, her magnetic eyes commandeering mine for utmost attention. "But it is incredibly rewarding. If you follow the rules, you will prosper. Our kind isn't plentiful these days, with people praying to gods that condone greed and selfishness," her lip curled in distaste. "Each one of us can make a large difference in this world. The opportunities you have been given need to be taken seriously."

My lip caught between my teeth as I mulled over the words my boss spoke with so my concern and conviction. Nothing in her speech sounded amiss; sure as she was, I was still mercifully given a choice. Odette's aura, that used to seem suffocating and dense, grew around me into a non-physical hug, a comfort akin to a mother supporting her child taking their first steps.

I eyed the sixty-something year-old, tall, imposing woman, scanning her for any deceitfulness, exhilaration and wariness sitting on my shoulders and whispering into my ears. True to myself, I gave into the side that craved and lived for adventure. "I would love to learn," hoping my voice conveyed the excitement and hopefulness of being a part of something special.

Odette smiled kindly. "I knew that," with a chuckle to herself, she reached into a set of drawers and extracted a few worn, plain notebooks. "Homework," the wink she threw at me instantly took ten years off her face. I couldn't even bring myself to sigh, only the sludge still covering my palms preventing me from making grabby hands in the direction of new information.

The bell rang before I could make another comment and I was let go with the instructions to wash my hands - and that's exactly what I did, having noted the short Asian man impatiently tapping his foot next to the front desk.

The man's name was Wong and he was the sole reason for my uncontrollable flares of temper during my work hours at the bodega. Odette herself avoided him like the plague, and for a good reason: his attitude was nothing short of conceited, as if the weird robes that he wore were some kind of a hall-pass to be a demanding asshole when it came to the store's wares.

Wong could spend up to forty minutes inspecting the baggies containing herbs and other knick-knacks, meticulously picking out what he considered best and curtly insulting the items he found to be lacking in quality. I was made aware he belonged to some sort of a sect or a cult of honest-to-god wizards; as if him looking like a worker of the Ministry of Magic didn't make that fact obvious. I was unpleasantly surprised at the fact that even witches, much like doctors, had elitist pricks among their kind - and Odette had the audacity to simply vanish whenever one of those robed people set foot in the shop, leaving me to use all my mental strength to try and not strangle the wannabe Karens.

I was willing to bet my favourite star-patterned scarf that Wong hexed the waiters who made him wait longer that he considered appropriate. I just knew it.

The anger, the frustration and at times, blind, total rage came in useful - and that was a surprise to me. According to Odette's notebooks, everyone had the potential to master magick - to an extent, each individual's threshold was, well, individual - but the more a witch was in tune with her emotions, her feelings, the higher the success rate of her spells grew.

The notebooks contained enough information for me to understand that Odette was considered a High Priestess (not to be confused with Head of the Coven - not all witches wanted to be a part of those) and the amount of power she held was quite impressive. No, she couldn't turn back time, she couldn't raise the dead; the people she helped and healed were, oftentimes, made well at the expense of her own life energy. It was an endless cycle of emptying a glass and refilling it back up. The deities lended a hand with that.

Some time after I'd gone through the theory, Odette encouraged me to choose a direction I was to study in depth; much like her, I was interested in the defensive rather than the offensive. Healing spells, protection wards and the occasional light hex to deter enemies from reoffending: I was disappointed but not surprised to learn the fact that curses and serious harm done to other people quite often backfired, harming the caster themselves as well as their victim.

I had always believed in karma, to a healthy extent, but these days I was that much more aware of how I treated those around me. That's not to say I became a pushover - I simply chose to smile rather than frown at the world and replaced my longing and envy with a sense of gratitude towards the things I already possessed. Just like Odette had said, layering the spiritual values over my material, earthly ones wasn't easy - it was hard work, and what prevented me from stopping when I felt exhausted was that it actually paid off.

As I got ready to cast my first serious spell, I ran through a mental checklist of things I developed - of sorts. Positive vibes only. Having vengeful intentions when warding off potential harm-doers was not only dangerous, it was counterproductive. Intentions mattered the most when casting a spell and I could end up killing all the innocent, stray cats in the area instead of making a burglar choose the neighbouring building some five months down the line.

The spell, I considered to be a success. The atmosphere in my home lightened, the dingy walls of my rental started radiating comfort and safety I hadn't felt since moving out of my parents' home. A slight tiredness persisted for a few days after the last candle burned out; Odette reassured that it was perfectly normal as I was a baby witch and my energy channels were adapting, growing to accommodate my newfound awareness and flow of cosmic energies that I was training to harness.

Next on my list was a personal protection charm, an antique silver locket adorned with stars I had scavenged in a local pawn shop. Odette had given me instructions on how to cleanse potential magical conductors: the amount of rings and jewelry she wore directly correlated to the power of a singular spell she could cast. There was a fine hairline between charging your accessories and letting them drain you and I learned to walk South of it the hard way, but as all learning processes go, eventually I found my middle ground and was successful.

My daily routine grew small rituals like the forest trees grew moss. Slow and steady, I was transitioning from a curious baby witch into a self-sufficient practitioner of magic. Sounds crazy, I know, coming from someone who could barely believe into aliens until Thor himself had walked into the coffee shop and ordered a latte, but as all things do in life - I changed.

Working the morning shift allowed me to discreetly place a few of the good-luck charms I had made during my most recent creative stint. While they didn't have a direct effect on the customers or their tipping habits, the atmosphere on the cafe's premises had lightened enough that even Jeremy's usually sour face tipped more towards neutral these days.

The smile blossomed on my face without effort as I caught the tell-tale bespoke suit and sunglasses of the man waltzing through the doors of the café as if he owned the place. "Nice to see you, Mr. Stark. Enjoy your vacation?" I asked the smirking man, giving a respectful once-over to the tall, lithe man holding onto his shoulder.

"It's Tony," the happiness was radiating off him in waves. "Missed my favourite coffee shop and the world's nicest barista," he winked at me, causing the man behind him snort, steely blue eyes studying me in turn. "Had to introduce my two favourite people," the engineer took a step back, parting his arms with a flourish gesture. "Stephen, Starlight. Starlight, Stephen," he spoke before rattling off his usual order. And a cake on top.

I gave an amused grin to the man obviously humoring his significant other, as Stephen mock-bowed in my direction. "You're right, how could we be together without the approval of your favourite barista?" Stephen had his wits. I decided I definitely liked him. "Starlight? Is that a nickname or were your parents hippies?" Okay, witty bordering on rude. Was Stephen a lawyer?

"Now, now, honey," the crinkles around Tony's eyes deepened as he barked out a laugh. "No need to be jealous. We're all adults here, we can share. There's enough of me for everyone."

I rolled my eyes, easily slipping into the familiar banter. "Speak for yourself, Mr. Stark. I'm very selfish," I cocked an eyebrow, tilting my head to the side and pretending to size up Stephen. "You've outdone yourself this time," Stephen's eyebrows rose. The line between 'sizing up' and 'checking out' was so very fine and I walked it well, a quiet sort of confidence that had bloomed within me at the recent events in my life letting me be slightly bolder that allowed myself to be before. "I'd have to be the Devil myself to break up such a blessed union. My congratulations," my smirk grew into a warm smile as Tony beamed at me in return, content on showing off his most recent acquisition.

Who, by the way, looked a little bit lost. Evidently, Stephen did not expect such a degree of familiarity between me and Tony; which was, to be honest, most likely what had him returning to the establishment over and over. Come for the coffee, stay for the company. Or how was it?

The energy between Tony and Stephen was electric. There was something undoubtedly attractive, magnetic even, about the tall, steely-eyed man, something similar to Odette's charismatic pull but without the overwhelming ossification of the air around her. Even putting aside the fact that Stephen was a visually stunning person with his sculpted phisique and high, sharp cheekbones, he commandeered the attention to himself without even uttering a word. Definitely a lawyer, with how the type could hold the whole courtroom together with a single look.

The early birds on a Friday were few and in-between; the three of us chatted as the two men sipped their coffees with muted noises of joy. According to Tony, Fiji was delightful this time of the year. Oblivious to everything around him, the engineer rambled about his ventures without a care in the world as his partner looked up to him with earnest happiness and I- well, I wished I could go to Fiji, hot boyfriend optional. The weather in NYC was slowly becoming dreary: I did not look forward to winter sludge and the traffic congestions that it created.

"And I love what you've done with the interior. Those cat statues? Charming," Tony rambled, pointing out the good-luck charms I'd placed all over the café. Small knick-knacks I carefully selected to match the overall vibe of the room. "Tell Jeremy I send my regards. Appreciate the lack of paps, too," he winked at me, looking visibly relieved.

"Huh?" The rag in my hands froze. "I haven't seen a single paparazzi around here, since, like, ever," I admitted, puzzled.

"And I appreciate it. Ever since our thing became public knowledge, they've been hounding me wherever I go," the eyeroll Tony made was truly powerful. "Whatever you're doing, keep doing it," and again, the engineer winked at me, apparently having made some assumptions of his own. "I won't tell if you won't."

The puzzlement persisted within me all throughout my shift. I lived in NYC, for fuck's sake, I wasn't unfamiliar with how things ran around here.

Every establishment I worked in had been swarmed with the annoying, persistent celebrity hunters at some point - and yellow press and paparazzi were, by far, the worst. Some of the greedier ones could go as far as to shove simple folk out of the way or order a cup of coffee with their camera hiding under the tablecloth to sneak in a juicy picture of a celebrity just trying to have their brunch in peace. I hated those vultures with a passion; their negative energy, their lack of morals when it came to hunting for a new scandal that would make them a few hundred bucks.

The only way to even slightly deter them was to repeatedly call the cops on them for public disturbance. I'd done it once or twice, egged on by Jerry and his worry of losing profit - after all, there were establishments known specifically for high rates of celebrity sightings and if any of the superheroes wanted to make an appearance, they would just go there for their cup of overpriced coffee and defrosted sponge cake. Our café was strictly for comfort and leisure - a rare thing me and my boss actually agreed upon.

As I said warm goodbyes to my favourite engineer and his newfound, dashing boyfriend, the cat statues stared at me in mute satisfaction, their hollow eyes radiating smugness and their immobile mouths stretched in what looked like pure, mocking mischief.

Taglist is open until the story is finished. Spare comment? 🥺

@couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites

#bun writes #practical alchemy #tony stark x reader x stephen strange #stephen strange x reader x tony stark #tony stark x reader #Stephen Strange x reader #Tony Stark x you #Stephen Strange x you

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skekheck · 3 years

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What are your thoughts on the Weta statues? Can you take some more pics of them please?

OOF I’m sorry I said I would take pics yesterday but life got in the way. I would do them today, but it’s raining pretty hard right now. I don’t have good lighting or photography equipment on hand so I rely on sunlight to take pictures. I’ll be sure to take more pictures when I get the chance. Also not gonna lie I’ve been very busy staring and admiring these statues dfghjk. They’re distracting and they give me a big dose of serotonin.

Overall the statues are fantastic and high quality. The molding, the paint job, the textures, THE DETAILS: it’s all great. It’s very much worth the hefty price they set for it. I know plenty of people have complained about this, but when you see them in real life and are able to really look at all the little details they put in you’ll understand why they’re expensive. I should also mention the product design for their boxes are nice too. Like they have little designs on them that are reflective with nice photos of the statues themselves and stills from the show on it.

Also, while I was nerve-wrecked about the statues breaking or snapping while being shipped (as I heard of horror stories of people experiencing this), I was relieved to find that none of mine were harmed. I ordered the statues from the Weta website and it was shipped from their warehouses so that might be why. People who had issues with their statues breaking apparently ordered from different store companies (like BigBadToystore). If you want to order from these statues, I suggest doing so from the Weta Website.

I have the Hup and Brea statues as well and I bought them while they were on sale last month. They could have another sale so keep an eye out. Both are very nice. Assembly is very simple with the character and their stands. They’re nicely sized you can display them on bookshelves and such without them taking too much space.

Now the BIG BOYS. Like I knew they were going to be big and I saw the dimensions and everything but I still underestimated how BIG they were going to be, especially when paired with the smaller statues. Like Brea is 4.92" x 7.67" x 5.7" (W x H x D) meanwhile skekMal is 11.81" x 15.74" x 12.59" and urVa’s 16.92" x 21.45" x 12.59". Not to mention the boxes they came in are big too. The front of their boxes open and they show you behind the scenes photos of them making the statues while having the character descriptions they have displayed on their website. Cool stuff! Because they’re so huge they do require more assembly. I was particularly surprised to open up skekMal’s box and found him headless and I thought his head was missing until I found the piece. Also his toenail was so sharp it pierced through the plastic and I guess the person who packaged him up put a piece of styrofoam on it to protect it from chipping. His was easy to put together: his sheaths and one of his trophies were magnetic so they fit in perfectly. Getting him onto his stand was a little tough for me because he was heavier, but didn’t have any trouble. UrVa was a little tougher to put together but it was mostly because he was heavy (he’s like 16 lbs). His arrows were the most annoying to put together because they were flimsy. For one of them there’s a small groove on his bow to place the arrow on, but I had to fiddle with it to position it correctly. Same with the other one. If the statue gets shaken, it’s very easy for the arrows to fall out of place.

But let me talk about their details because HOLY SHIT IT’S SO FUN TO LOOK AT. Like they went all out on these statues to the point their clothing has DIFFERENT TEXTURES. UrVa’s is great for that with all the individual stitches and accessories on his outfit. I’m particularly obsessed with skekMal’s because they painted his back in a way that made the cloth look transparent (which the actual fabric is like in the show so kudos to that attention to detail). I also just weirdly like the paint job is for his claws and toenails? I don’t know why, but it looks realistic and gross and I love it. His trophies too are also really nice. I do have some complaints about skekMal’s statue and they’re very minor. I’m a little disappointed they didn’t color the eyeballs on his pants. Like the molding is there, but it’s the same color as his pants and I dunno I wanted to see how they’d paint his other gross trophies. Also the brown and beige clothing he wears around his neck and on his person is gold, brown and purple? I’m not sure if this was from a prototype of his puppet, but it’s brown and beige in the show so I’m not sure why they did that. But that’s really it like that doesn’t damper how much of an amazing statue it is and they’re nitpicks at best. It was well worth the money.

I know a lot of people were complaining about the statues being limited and “overpriced”, but like they’re super high-quality and big. You could pay them up front or under a payment plan. What’s cool about the payment plan is that they don’t charge you interest so I was happy about that. However, the lowest plan was $124 a month (at least for skekMal, I forget how much urVa’s plan was) so it may not be reasonable for some people. As of right now, skekMal is still available but he’s low in stock. UrVa’s no longer available, but Weta will relaunch him to get the rest of the stock out from people who canceled their pre-orders. So if you want him, you may still be able to get him without dealing with scalpers.

#asks for skekheck #this got long sorry fghj #Anonymous

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96harmony96 · 3 years

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Chapter 14

The next morning dawned with an odd surreality. I made it to work, and then through most of my pre launch day in a kind of chilly fog. I couldn’t get warm enough, despite wearing a cardigan over my blouse and a scarf that didn’t match either one. It took me a few minutes longer to process requests than it should have, and I couldn’t shake a feeling of dread.

Lauren made no contact with me whatsoever.

Nothing on my smartphone or e-mail after my text last night. Nothing in my email inbox. No interoffice note.

The silence was excruciating. Especially when the day’s Google alert hit my inbox and I saw the photos and phone videos of me and Lauren in Bryant Park. Seeing how we looked together—the passion and need, the painful longing on our faces, and the gratefulness of reconciliation—was bittersweet.

Pain twisted in my chest. Lauren.

If we couldn’t work this out, would I ever stop thinking about her and wishing we had?

I struggled to pull myself together. Mark was meeting with Lauren today. Maybe that’s why Lauren hadn’t felt pressed to contact me. Or maybe she was just really busy. I knew she had to be, considering her business calendar. And as far as I knew, we still had plans to go to the gym after work. I exhaled in a rush and told myself that things would straighten out somehow. They just had to.

It was quarter to noon when my desk phone rang. Seeing from the readout that the call was coming from reception, I sighed with disappointment and answered.

“Hey, Camila,” Megumi said cheerily. “You have a Magdalene Perez here to see you.”

“Do I?” I stared at my monitor, confused and irritated. Had the Bryant Park photos lured Magdalene out from under whatever troll bridge she called home?

Regardless of the reason, I had no interest in talking to her. “Keep her up there for me, will you? I have to take care of something first.”

“Sure. I’ll tell her to have a seat.”

I hung up, then pulled out my smartphone and scrolled through the contact list until I found the number to Lauren’s office. I dialed and was relieved when Scott answered.

“Hey, Scott. Camila Cabello.”

“Hi, Camila. Would you like to speak to miss. Jauregui? she’s in a meeting at the moment, but I can buzz her.”

“No. No, don’t bother her.”

“It’s a standing order. she won’t mind.”

It soothed me immensely to hear that. “I hate to throw this in your lap, but I have a request for you.”

“Anything you need. That’s also a standing order.” The amusement in his voice relaxed me further.

“Magdalene Perez is down here on the twentieth floor. Frankly, the only thing she and I have in common is Lauren, and that’s not a good thing. If she has something to say, it’s your boss she should be talking to. Could you please have someone escort her up?”

“Absolutely. I’ll take care of it now.”

“Thanks, Scott. I appreciate you.”

“It’s my pleasure, Camila.”

I hung up the phone and sagged back in my seat, feeling better already and proud of myself for not letting jealousy get the better of me. While I still really hated the idea of her having any of Lauren’s time, I hadn’t lied when I’d said I trusted her. I believed she had strong, deep feelings for me. I just didn’t know if they were enough to override her survival instinct.

Megumi called me again.

“Oh my God,” she said, laughing. “You should’ve seen her face when whoever that was came to get her.”

“Good.” I grinned. “I figured she was up to no good. Is she gone, then?”

“Yep.”

“Thanks.” I crossed the narrow strip of hallway to Mark’s door and poked my head in to see if he wanted me to pick him up some lunch.

He frowned, thinking about it. “No, thanks. I’ll be too nervous to eat until after the presentation with Jauregui. By then whatever you pick up will be hours old.”

“How about a protein smoothie, then? It’ll give you some easy fuel until you can eat.”

“That’d be great.” His smile lit up his dark eyes. “Something that goes good with vodka, just to get me in the mood.”

“Anything you don’t like? Any allergies?”

“Nada.”

“Okay. See you in an hour.” I knew just the place to go. The deli I had in mind was a couple blocks up and offered smoothies, salads, and a variety of made-to-order paninis with quick service.

I headed downstairs and tried not to think about Lauren’s radio silence. I’d kind of expected to hear something after the Magdalene incident. Getting no reaction had me worrying all over again. I pushed out to the street through the revolving door and scarcely paid any attention to the man who climbed out of the back of a town car at the curb until he called my name.

Turning, I found myself facing Christopher Vidal.

“Oh…Hi,” I greeted him. “How are you?”

“Better, now that I’ve seen you. You look fantastic.”

“Thanks. I can say the same to you.”

As different as he was from Lauren, he was gorgeous in his own way with his mahogany waves, grayish-green eyes, and charming smile. He was dressed in loose-fitting jeans and a cream V-neck sweater, a very sexy look for him.

“Are you here to see your sister?” I asked.

“Yes, and you.”

“Me?”

“Heading to lunch? I’ll join you and explain.”

I was briefly reminded of Lauren’s warning to stay away from Christopher, but by now I figured she trusted me. Especially with her brother.

“I’m going to a deli up the street,” I said. “If you’re game.”

“Absolutely.”

We started walking.

“What did you want to see me about?” I asked, too curious to wait.

He reached into one of two large cargo pockets of his jeans and pulled out a formal invitation in a vellum envelope. “I came to invite you to a garden party we’re having at my parents’ estate on Sunday. A mix of business and pleasure. Many of the artists signed to Vidal Records will be there. I was thinking it’d be great networking for your roommate—he’s got the right look for music video.”

I brightened. “That would be wonderful!”

Christopher grinned and passed the invite over. “And you’ll both have fun. No one throws a party like my mother.”

I glanced briefly at the envelope in my hand. Why hadn’t Lauren said anything about the event?

“If you’re wondering why Lauren didn’t tell you about it,” he said, seemingly reading my mind, “it’s because she won’t come. she never does. Even though she’s the majority shareholder in the company, I think she finds the music industry and musicians too unpredictable for his tastes. By now, you know how she is.”

Dark and intense. Powerfully magnetic and hotly sexual. Yes, I knew how she was. And she preferred to know what she was getting into at all costs.

I gestured at the deli when we reached it, and we stepped inside and got in line.

“This place smells awesome,” Christopher said, his gaze on his phone as he typed out a quick text.

“The aroma delivers on its promise, trust me.”

He smiled a delightful boyish smile that I was sure knocked most women on their asses. “My parents are really looking forward to meeting you, Camila.”

“Oh?”

“Seeing the photos of you and Lauren over the last week has been a real surprise. A good surprise,” he qualified quickly when I winced. “It’s the first time we’ve seen her really into someone she’s dating.”

I sighed, thinking she wasn’t so into me right now. Had I made a terrible mistake by leaving her alone last night?

When we reached the counter, I ordered a grilled vegetable and cheese panini with two pomegranate smoothies, asking them to hold the one with a protein shot for thirty minutes so I could eat in. Christopher ordered the same, and we managed to find a table in the crowded deli.

We talked about work, laughing over both a recent baby food commercial faux-blooper that had gone viral and some backstage anecdotes about acts Christopher had worked with. The time passed swiftly, and when we parted ways at the entrance of the Crossfire, I said good-bye with genuine affection.

I headed up to the twentieth floor, and found Mark still at his desk. He offered me a quick smile despite his air of concentration.

“If you don’t really need me,” I said, “I think it’d be good for me to sit this presentation out.”

Although he tried to hide it, I saw the lightning quick flash of relief. It didn’t offend me. Stress was stress, and my volatile relationship with Lauren was something Mark didn’t need to think about while he was working on an important account.

“You’re golden, Camila. You know that?”

I smiled and set the drink carrier down in front of him. “Drink your smoothie. It’s really good, and the protein will keep you from feeling too hungry for a little bit longer. I’ll be at my desk if you need me.”

Before I put my purse in the drawer, I texted Cary to ask if he had plans on Sunday or if he’d like to go to a Vidal Records party. Then I got back to work. I’d started organizing Mark’s files on the server, tagging them and placing them in directories to make it easier for us to assemble portfolios on the fly.

When Mark left for the meeting with Lauren, my heartbeat quickened and a clutch of anticipation tightened my stomach. I couldn’t believe my excitement just from knowing what Lauren was doing at that particular moment, and that she’d have to think of me when she saw Mark. I hoped I’d hear from her after that. My mood picked up at the thought.

For the next hour, I was restless waiting to hear how things had gone. When Mark reappeared with a big grin and a spring in his step, I stood up in my cubicle and applauded him.

He took a gallant, exaggerated bow. “Thank you, Miss Camila.”

“I’m so stoked for you!”

“Jauregui asked me to give you this.” He handed me a sealed manila envelope. “Come to my office and I’ll give you all the deets.”

The envelope had weight and rattled. I knew from touch what I’d find inside before I opened it, but still the sight of my keys sliding out and into my palm hit me hard. Gasping with a pain more intense than any I could remember, I read the accompanying note card.

Thank you, Camila. For everything.

Yours, G

A Dear Jane brush-off. It had to be. Otherwise, she would’ve given me the keys after work on the way to the gym.

There was a dull roaring in my ears. I felt dizzy. Disoriented. I was frightened and agonized. Furious.

I was also at work.

Closing my eyes and clenching my fists, I pulled myself together and fought off the driving urge to go upstairs and call Lauren a coward. she probably saw me as a threat, someone who’d come in, unwanted and uninvited, and shook up her orderly world. Someone who’d demanded more from her than just his hot body and hefty bank account.

I shut my emotions behind a glass wall where I was aware of them waiting in the background, but I was able to get through the rest of my workday. By the time I clocked out and headed downstairs, I still hadn’t heard from Lauren. I was such an emotional disaster at that point I felt only a single, sharp twinge of despair as I exited the Crossfire.

I made it to the gym. I shut my brain off and ran full-bore on the treadmill, fleeing the anguish that would hit me soon enough. I ran until sweat coursed in rivulets down my face and body, and rubber legs forced me to stop.

Feeling battered and exhausted, I hit the showers. Then I called my mother and asked her to send Clancy to the gym to pick me up for our appointment with Dr. Petersen. As I put my work clothes back on, I mustered the energy to get through that last task before I could go home and collapse on my bed.

I waited for the town car at the curb, feeling separate and apart from the city teeming around me. When Clancy pulled up and hopped out to open the back door for me, I was startled to see my mom already inside. It was early yet. I’d expected to be driven solo to the apartment she shared with Stanton and wait on her twenty minutes or so. That was our usual routine.

“Hey, Mom,” I said wearily, settling on the seat beside her.

“How could you, Camila?” She was crying into a monogrammed handkerchief, her face beautiful even while reddened and wet with tears. “Why?”

Jolted out of my torment by her misery, I frowned and asked, “What did I do now?”

The new cell phone, if she’d somehow found about it, wouldn’t trigger this much drama. And it was too soon after the fact for her to know about my breakup with Lauren.

“You told Lauren Jauregui about…what happened to you.” Her lower lip trembled with distress.

My head jerked back in shock. How could she know that? My God…Had she bugged my new place? My purse…? “What?”

“Don’t act clueless!”

“How do you know I told her?” My voice was a pained whisper. “We just talked last night.”

“she went to see Richard about it today.”

I tried to picture Stanton’s face during that conversation. I couldn’t imagine my stepfather taking it well. “Why would she do that?”

“she wanted to know what’s been done to prevent information leaks. And she wanted to know where Nathan is—” She sobbed. “she wanted to know everything.”

My breath hissed out between my teeth. I wasn’t sure what Lauren’s motivation was, but the possibility that she’d dumped me over Nathan and was now making sure that she was safe from scandal hurt worse than anything. I twisted in pain, my spine arching away from the seatback. I’d thought it was her past that drove a wedge between us, but it made more sense that it was mine.

For once I was grateful for my mother’s self-absorption, which kept her from seeing how devastated I was.

“she had a right to know,” I managed in a voice so raw it sounded nothing like my own. “And she has a right to try and protect himself from any blowback.”

“You’ve never told any of your other boyfriends.”

“I’ve never dated anyone who makes national headlines by sneezing, either.” I stared out the car window at the traffic that boxed us in. “Lauren Jauregui and Cross Industries are global news, Mother. she’s light-years away from the guys I dated in college.”

She spoke more, but I didn’t hear her. I shut down for self-protection, cutting off the reality that was suddenly too painful to be endured.

Dr. Petersen’s office was exactly as I remembered. Decorated in soothing neutrals, it was both professional and comfortable. Dr. Petersen was the same—a handsome man with gray hair and gentle, intelligent blue eyes.

He welcomed us into his office with a wide smile, commenting on how lovely my mother looked and how like her I was. He said he was happy to see me again and that I looked well, but I could tell he spoke for my mother’s benefit. He was too trained an observer to miss the raging emotions I suppressed.

“So,” he began, settling into his chair across from the sofa my mother and I sat on. “What brings you both in today?”

I told him about the way my mom had been tracking my movements via my cell phone signal and how violated I felt. Mom told him about my interest in Krav Maga and how she took it as a sign that I wasn’t feeling safe. I told him about how they’d pretty much taken over Parker’s studio, which made me feel suffocated and claustrophobic. She told him I’d betrayed her trust by divulging deeply personal matters to strangers, which made her feel naked and painfully exposed.

Through it all, Dr. Petersen listened attentively, took notes and spoke rarely, until we’d purged everything.

Once we’d quieted, he asked, “Sinuhe, why didn’t you tell me about tracking Camila’s cell phone?”

The angle of her chin altered, a familiar defensive posture. “I didn’t see anything wrong with it. Many parents track their children through their cell phones.”

“Underage children,” I shot back. “I’m an adult. My personal time is exactly that.”

“If you were to envision yourself in her place, Sinuhe,” Dr. Petersen interjected, “would it be possible that you might feel as she does? What if you discovered someone was monitoring your movements without your knowledge or permission?”

“Not if the someone was my mother and I knew it gave her peace of mind,” she argued.

“And have you considered how your actions affect Camila’s peace of mind?” he queried gently. “Your need to protect her is understandable, but you should discuss the steps you wish to take openly with her. It’s important to gain her input—and expect cooperation only when she chooses to give it. You have to honor her prerogative to set limits that may not be as broad as you’d like them to be.”

My mother sputtered indignantly.

“Camila needs her boundaries, Sinuhe,” he continued, “and a sense of control over her own life. Those things were taken from her for a long time and we have to respect her right to establish them now in the manner that best suits her.”

“Oh.” My mother twisted her handkerchief around her fingers. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

I reached out for my mother’s hand when her lower lip trembled violently. “Nothing could’ve stopped me from talking to Lauren about my past. But I could have forewarned you. I’m sorry I didn’t think of it.”

“You’re much stronger than I ever was,” my mother said, “but I can’t help worrying.”

“My suggestion,” Dr. Petersen said, “would be for you to take some time, Sinuhe, and really think about what sorts of events and situations cause you anxiety. Then write them down.”

My mother nodded.

“When you have what will surely not be an exhaustive list but a strong start,” he went on, “you can sit down with Camila and discuss strategies for addressing those concerns—strategies you can both live with comfortably. For example, if not hearing from Camila for a few days troubles you, perhaps a text message or an e-mail will alleviate that.”

“Okay.”

“If you like, we can go over the list together.”

The back-and-forth between the two made me want to scream. It was insult to injury. I hadn’t expected Dr. Petersen to smack some sense into my mom, but I’d hoped he would at least take a harder line—God knew someone needed to, someone whose authority she respected.

When the hour ended and we were on our way out, I asked my mom to wait a moment so I could ask Dr. Petersen one last personal and private question.

“Yes, Camila?” He stood in front of me, looking infinitely patient and wise.

“I just wondered…” I paused, needing to swallow past a lump in my throat. “Is it possible for two abuse survivors to have a functional romantic relationship?”

“Absolutely.” His immediate, unequivocal answer forced the trapped air from my lungs.

I shook his hand. “Thank you.”

When I got home, I unlocked my door with the keys Lauren had returned to me and I went straight to my room, offering a lame wave to Cary, who was practicing yoga in the living room to a DVD.

I stripped off my clothes as I crossed the distance from my closed bedroom door to the bed, finally crawling between the cool sheets in just my underwear. I hugged a pillow and closed my eyes, so tired and drained I had nothing left.

The door opened at my back and a moment later Cary sat beside me.

He brushed my hair back from my tear-streaked face. “What’s the matter, baby girl?”

“I got kicked to the curb today. Courtesy of a fucking note card.”

He sighed. “You know the drill, Camila. she’s going to keep pushing you away, because she’s expecting you to fail her like everyone else has.”

“And I keep proving her right.” I recognized myself in the description Cary had just given. I ran when the going got tough, because I was so sure it was all going to end badly. The only control I had was to be the one who left, instead of the one who was left behind.

“Because you’re fighting to protect your own recovery.” He lay down and spooned against my back, wrapping one leanly muscular arm around me and tucking me tight against him.

I snuggled into the physical affection I hadn’t realized I needed. “she might’ve dumped me because of my past, not her.”

“If that’s true, it’s good it’s over. But I think you two will find each other eventually. At least I’m hoping you will.” His sigh was soft on my neck. “I want there to be happily-ever-afters for the fucked-up crowd. Show me the way, Camila honey. Make me believe.”

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goliath-de-senfina-sango · 4 years

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Local Teen Unaware of how Weird Family is, Local Goth Decides To Go All In and Learn Magick, Exhausted Teens Do Fun Dumb Teen Stuff

It was the day after they’d taken down Skulker, and Tucker had to collect up the armor. Danny helped him, of course, and he flew home with some help from his favorite ghost boy. They landed in Tucker’s room, and Tucker gave Danny a hug as soon as the suit was set down. Danny returned to his warmer flesh and blood self and hugged him back before they got to work searching for a port to plug Tucker’s laptop into. Thankfully even the dead respected the U in USB and they manage to connect. Before long, however, Tucker’s mind wanders from his code-breaking program that’s now hard at work with Skulker’s head and to his situation with Sam. And considering what all he’d learned about Danny’s family so far, he might as well ask. “Danny do you have access to transparent solar panels?”

“Yeah, all the windows at Fenton Works are solar panels - I think they run at uh 50% efficiency. Why?”

“Danny, that’s like, the exact last piece I need for my solar-powered car design.” Tucker was tempted to inform Danny of how amazing that fact was, but he knew Danny wasn’t a fan of being extraordinary, so he’d let it slide for now. “Now I just need some way of building it.”

“Well, you have the design itself saved right?”

“Yes…” Tucker wasn’t sure where this was going, but he was hopeful that it’d be a place he liked.

“We can just print out the design at my house?” Danny shrugged, as though that was obvious and the most simple thing in the world. “We have like, a pretty big 3D printer, it’s uh modular, and we use scrapped metal from junkyards that we liquified as filament. We can print a car pretty quickly.”

Danny was going to say something that made Tucker fall completely in love with him one of these days, the idiot. “Danny I need you to take me to this 3D printer. Now.” Skulker’s head was left where they’d put it on his desk, the rest of the suit stuffed in Tucker’s closet, and the pair flew off to Danny’s house.

When they arrived at Fentonworks, they turned to one of the other buildings on the block and set down there, Danny taking the time to unlock the door and everything. “So this 3D printer you guys have…”

“Well, Dad calls it the Fenton Fabricator. See, there's a theory that went around a while ago when 3D printers and fabricators first started, it was the Recursive Loop Theory. It goes like this. You buy a 3D printer. Mid-range, sorta useful, but with enough detail and strength that you like it. But then you need something a bit more detailed. So you look online and you find a set of 3D models for a second printer. This one you can build on your machine, and with only some minor parts you can make the more detailed printer for a tiny fraction of what it would cost.”

Danny took them to a set of stairs and Tucker was so focused on his friend he nearly missed all the art Danny’s ever done hanging all over the walls.

“So, you can make more detailed parts. And you find designs for a bigger printer. It's modular and sorta rough, but it needs those detailed parts. So you can then build massive somewhat detailed pieces… and so you do. And now, with your 3 printers, you find designs to a fourth. Bigger, better, more detailed, it's another generation, and you can print it off your current designs. Boom, bam, rinse and repeat. Eventually, your diminishing returns drop till you can’t make a more detailed printer, but at that point, you have one hell of a machine, particularly if you have a couple of crazy hackers building your final design as a custom project. Course, it’s not quite that easy. We had to fabricate a lot of weird and unique bits for them in other ways - well, my folks and their friends in the Secret Scientists did anyway."

“So the Fenton Fabricator?”

“Is a massive, customized high detail 3D fabricator that can even print metal and glass, yes.” Danny turned on the lights as they entered a large underground workspace. Tucker saw the fabricator and felt he might’ve gone to heaven. It was a massive aquarium tank, easily twenty feet from corner to corner and at least eight feet tall. Above it, hanging like a mechanical spider on segmented green and red limbs with shiny metal joints and points, was a motorcycle sized 3D printing extruder. Tucker could see a set of lasers for dust printing, a pair of high-heat high-speed extruders for wires, several dozen smaller legs with colors and specific grades of wire, all of which fed up and around the room to spools of plastic and cylinders of dusted metal.

“There are hidden parts in the walls with directed gravity manipulators and some arms kept out of the way until needed for assembly-based stuff. I think Mom and Dad built a car or something down here recently. The canisters are all refilled completely.” Danny shrugged, moving around the lab and grabbing up papers - notes about what feeds to use, hints for setting things up. “I can help you connect up and plug in your stuff - though you’ll have to leave it here so that the thing can print. If you’re legit making a car here, it’ll take about 2 days to finish printing it out at all, let alone assemble.”

“Danny, after I finish with that, we are so using this place for other projects together, do you understand me?” Tucker saw doors that likely lead off to other rooms in the lab and wondered just how Much of Fentonworks there was. “This is too amazing.”

“If you say so, bro. Here, let’s get started. I can help with setting up the print file.”

Sam had to say, going through the bs of school was beyond irritating when both of her friends were barred from the school until they could get around the weapons the Fentons were installing. Paulina’s gratingly loud personality was especially difficult to tune out that day, and Sam found herself feeling proud of her self control in not throwing something at the shallow cheerleading idiot when she started going on and on about the upcoming spirit week.

Once school was out, Sam grabbed the board that Danny apparently made for her after he finished Tucker’s, though she wasn’t sure how, and put on her helmet. New, magnetic boots planted firmly on the board, Sam pulled out her phone, put in the address of the Skulk and Lurk, and activated the Nav AI that Tucker had managed to make an app for to download. “One of these days Tucker is going to overwork himself into an early grave.” Shaking her head Sam took off into the sky, and no amount of gothic reputation could keep the smile off her face or prevent her from cheering. “Woooohoooo!” Who could possibly blame her? She was flying . There was nothing more awesome than this that she knew of.

When she arrived, Sam had her board hover itself up to the roof, where it was less likely to get snatched by someone who thought it’d be cool to snag a hoverboard. Walking into the store, Sam took off her helmet and grinned. The Skulk n Lurk was one part book store, one part poetry reading area, and one part coffee shop. It had the gothic, occult theme down pat with black, blue, and shades of purple being the only colors to be found around the store. Heading straight into the books section, Sam managed to flag down an employee and nudged him in the arm. “Nice mohawk, Chris, I see you’re branching out.”

Chris turned around, hair dyed a brilliant blue and his clothes all pastel shades of purple and grey with a bat-shaped nametag pinned on his chest. He smiled and elbowed her right back. “Yeah, just got it done the other day. How’re you holdin up, Sam? Parents still trying to push you into being a prep?”

“Such is my curse.” Sam sighed and leaned heavily on Chris while he laughed. “But, that’s not what I’m here for today. Think you can help me find some books on magick?”

“Cursing people is wrong, and will always go wrong for you, I hope you know that.”

Sam rolled her eyes, standing up straight. “It’s not for cursing anyone, Chris, it’s for something else.”

“Hitting that cheerleader with a love spell is not the way to go about getting over your crush on her.” Chris smirked and turned away from her, walking steadily while Sam scoffed and scowled at him.

“That’s gross on two fronts. A love spell sounds ridiculously creepy, and I don’t have a crush on Paulina of all people.” Sam made a gagging noise and Chris laughed yet again.

Ludicrous notions about cheerleaders aside, Chris lead Sam to a section about magick and left to go help another customer while Sam browsed. She held her hand up, letting her fingers brush over the spines of the books as she read their titles and stilled. There was a vibration, warm and far more humid than any bookstore should be and humming so much like Danny and Agatha and even that piece of trash Grovsner did when she was close. It was a feeling that she hadn’t really noticed until now that all of the ghosts she’d encountered shared, however few of those there were. The tiny hairs all over her arms and the back of her neck stood on end and Sam grabbed the book.

Roots, stems, rain, warmth, leaves, petals, heat, crushing cold, withering emptiness, life granting rain and growth . Sam dropped the book and just barely bit off a loud swear, staring at the cover. Magick: The Life Blood of the Earth. “Well. Danny can see weird shit, I guess I can feel it. Being that close to the portal must’ve done something to me.” Picking up the book slowly, Sam waited for any weird feelings to hit her again. When none did, she grinned slowly. “Let’s see what I can do with that.”

Danny takes some of the time after fighting Skulker to relax at home, get his schoolwork done that was emailed to him, and figure out a plan for working around the school's new anti-ghost security system. It had been two days already and he was coming up blank. Of course, it's at dinner that Danny thinks to ask his parents. "Hey Mom, you said the Fenton Finder works by keeping track of a ghost's ectosignature, right? What is that, exactly?" Jazz, as she standardly did when Danny instigated ghost-themed rants, looked as offended as one might have had their mother been described with every cuss word in the dictionary. She stabbed her chicken alfredo while holding this look for 5 continuous seconds without blinking.

Mom smiled wide and ecstatic. "Well you see, Danny, an ectosignature is the frequency of electrical signals running throughout a ghost's body, shaping its form and directing its actions."

"Like brainwaves?"

“Exactly, hon!” Mom reached into her pocket and pulled out a macaroon, which Danny devoured immediately. “When a ghost manifests outside of the Ghost Zone, its ecto signature is a signal being broadcast from the Ghost Zone into our reality. Since ghosts are 4-dimensional constructs made of exotic matter that of which exists beyond our standard perceptive abilities, a ghost can receive this ectosignature from just about anywhere on Earth or beyond. Like the best cellular reception in the universe.”

“Like any signal though, an ectosignature can be tracked! And that signal can be disrupted and blocked!” Dad only spoke in exclamation points Danny realized some time ago. He waved his fork around in presentation at the blueprint that his mind had likely superimposed on the air next to him. “The Fenton Thermos™ uses charged ectoplasm and what I’ve coined as Fentonite to isolate any ectoplasmic mass contained inside of it from its corresponding ectosignature by creating a four-dimensional enclosure! The filthy ghost is still charged with the ectosignature though, there’s a centralized network of energy that allows the ghost to immediately take on its form after it’s released.”

“So the ghost is conscious within the thermos?”

Mom shrugged. “As conscious as a ghost can be, sweety. It’s not an actual person or anything, just a static imprint of what used to be a person’s thoughts. Like an A.I.”

“The Fenton Finder™ used scanners specially made to detect ectosignatures that are on our satellites up in space! It’s also how our security system works, though that works off of scanners here in the house!”

"So is there a way to track down ghosts by their specific ecto signatures? If you can track the general signals maybe you can create a way to lock into a specific one."

"Mm, I suppose we could! That'd be useful for tracking down that scum that attacked you and friends! We've got the blueprints for the ecto signature scanner down in the lab somewhere if you wanna try the idea out, son!"

"Will do, Dad. I'll tell ya how it goes." Danny grinned around his chicken and pasta. He had a game plan now.

After dinner, Danny raced downstairs to print out the blueprint from the computer - his father stacked the blueprints in an infuriatingly chaotic way that Danny hadn't the patience to sort through - and then ran through the door on the left. Behind it was a hallway into a tunnel, one that lead Danny to the alternative lab under the building right next to the house. Hopping into his wheely chair, Danny slid over the linoleum floor to his work table and laid down the blueprint.

"Alright, I can work with this. A signal can be tracked, and it can be isolated. Which means that My signal can be isolated and tracked specifically." A smirk crossed his face. "Which means the scanners can be set to ignore my signal. Perfect!"

Danny slid over to the laptop connected to a second Fenton Fabricator, glad that his parents were always thorough enough to make a back up of everything they did. "This should be done in no time. Then Sam can help me test it and Tuck can- speak of the devil." Danny whipped out his phone and hummed, tilting his head at the simple message his best friend had sent him.

FriarTuck: Hey Dan, almost fin breaking the security in Sklkr's suit. Bout to crack this badboi open n make it mine. Muahahahaha! Hyd?

"Ugh, stars, I don't wanna think about that asshole." Danny shot back a quick reply and set his phone down, finding a notebook he typically kept around. Writing in a code only he, Tucker and Sam knew, Danny got everything down that he could. "Skulker has been a major set back in my plan to prove not all ghosts are evil to Mom and Dad, and a few other weird developments made themselves known. I can now see everything in the lower intensity ultraviolet spectrum 24/7 instead of having to concentrate, as well as the electrical currents running through everything; I can somehow see my emotional connections with people I'm close with and use those connections to influence their emotions as well as read them clearer than other aurae." He stopped, taking a breath and looking over what he'd just written. " Mierda , ain't that creepy?" Danny pulled on his hair a bit while he wrote.

"Joining that on the list of creepy-ass things about Danny: I can reach across that link to everyone and pull on their love and affection and all that and use it to heal myself. Stars, that's such a gross way to look at everyone's care for me. Just a fucking- a bandaid? A free trip to the nurse in a minute?"

Turning back to the parts being made, Danny huffed and dragged his nails against his scalp a touch too roughly. "Physiological changes in my ghost occur when Tucker and Sam are in danger; Canines grow into fangs and according to Sam my voice starts to echo as though it's coming from everywhere. Thankfully a check in Tucker's mirror proves that the changes are temporary. Reaction to my temperament? On that note: being a psychoreactive exotic material, the ectoplasm that makes up my ghostly body reasonably reacts instantaneously to my emotions, but it seems to be enhancing them as well. It's either that or maybe puberty, but I have a feeling puberty doesn't make you violently angry at the slightest provocation and likely to turn any ghost you see into a splatter on the ground." Danny groaned, closing his notebook. "I fucking Executed Skulker. What the fuck? Why didn’t I just suck him into the thermos?"

A ding from his phone and Danny snorted.

GardeningClaws: Hey Star boy, don't go angsting without us there to hug you. We will know and you will pay the price.

"And what price is that, being buried in a pillow fort?"

GardeningClaws: do you know how many pillows I have in this house?? Do you think, like a fool, that I won't use them against you?

Danny laughed, sending a quick 'fair point' before heading to the door opposite the one into the house lab. Behind it was a room with rows of lockers, each holding three sets of suits. Danny didn't need them though. At the far end, there was a large octagonal metal rim, blast doors sealed shut within.

Opening it up to just the right coordinates, Danny watched the doors pull back and felt the building charge of the portal's startup. For a fraction of a second, Danny was filled with a bone-deep fear that gripped his entire body and held him stock still. With a thunderous crack, the fabric of space-time was folded around and torn, and Danny relaxed, staring out at an expanse of white and grey. Opening the blast door, he let the void fill him up and spread outward to chill his bones and freeze his veins. Skin blue, eyes and freckles green and his fluffy hair snow-white, Danny flew past the event horizon and gasped silently at the sight before him.

The moon is so much more beautiful when you can look with your own eyes instead of through the lens of a helmet visor.

Sam, smartest of the group that she was, called Danny and Tucker both to head to her house for a horror movie marathon. “After what we’ve been through, none of these B rate movies are gonna scare us.” It was so close to inarguably true that the boys both shrugged at their phones and headed on over. Danny came down from the sky in that space where everything was heat and impossible colors, everything around him highlighted in a panorama view that almost made him dizzy. Landing in an alleyway, Danny checked to make sure he didn’t see anyone around him and took a deep breath. He folded himself up, cold edges practically trapped within him tugged and bent until the brilliant moonlight that bled from his form retreated into the center of his chest, light and freezing cold as it hummed in an offbeat pulse next to his heart.

Pulling the hood of his jacket over his head, Danny jogged out of the alleyway and down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets. He looked around the neighborhood properly and hummed, wondering how he never put together that Sam was rich when the address she’d given them ages ago was very obviously in the rich part of town. “Stars, we’re really just that oblivious aren’t we?” The stars in mind, Danny cast his gaze up and smiled at the full moon that greeted him, counting the tiny dots of the stars around it while he walked. Thankfully, his odd kaleidoscopic vision seemed to extend to his human form a bit and his foot froze mid-step as a car drove past him at an intersection. “Sweet mother of the gods, why can rich people not drive right?”

When he got to the gates of Manson Manor, Tucker was there typing away at his phone. When he looked up Danny waved and grinned, pointing a thumb at the huge mansion behind the gate. “This is ridiculous.”

“It’s just so much . Why does anyone need that much space? How do they keep it clean?”

“If I meet some butler named Alfred I’m going to eat your hat.”

“Are you sure you wanna make that bet, Danny? This is looking Batman-ish.”

The gate opened up before Danny could respond to that and instead, he nudged Tucker’s side before jogging toward the door. Sam was there, opening it before Danny could trip on nothing and faceplant into the mahogany or whatever expensive wood the door was probably made from, and he instead landed on a soft carpet. Tucker nudged his foot with his shoe and Danny groaned, resigned to simply laying there for the rest of his life. Two pairs of hands lifted him up from the ground however and Danny laughed, getting up properly.

“You can’t just let me wallow in my shame in peace, can you?”

“Of course not,” Sam scoffed. “If you’re going to be ashamed, I have to be there to make sure it’s appropriate. Now, c’mon!” Sam dragged Danny down a few halls, and up some stairs, followed closely by Tucker.

“I need to make a map of this place so we don’t get lost the next time we come to visit,” Tucker muttered, and Danny nodded. When Sam opened the door she was headed for she let Danny go and grinned at them like a cat that’d eaten the canary. Walking in, Danny felt his jaw drop and took a moment to soak in what he was seeing. “You have an entire movie theater in your house?”

“I know, it’s grossly excessive and we absolutely don’t need it, but-”

“Sam, what the heck are you talking about?” Danny waved a hand in the goth’s face and snorted when she swatted at him. “This is awesome! We can marathon every Dead Teacher movie here and it’ll be like when we went to see it in the actual theaters but better !” Danny pulled down his hood and hopped over one of the chairs - of which there were two whole rows - and plopped himself into the soft cushioned seat with a laugh. “The only thing that could make this room better would be if you had movie snacks.”

“Well, good thing I have a popcorn machine right back there full of fresh popcorn, a cotton candy machine, and ordered us pizzas.” Sam grinned, sitting next to Danny with a bowl in hand full of greasy buttery popcorn, and Tucker sat on his right. “What should we watch first?”

Halfway into Dr. Sleep, the pizza arrived and three laughing teens had to pause the movie and pull themselves together from the heap of giggles that they’d become. “Oh, oh stars, that hurt , laughing so much hurts!” Danny leaned on Tucker while Sam leaned on him, the bowl of popcorn practically forgotten next to Tucker. After a few minutes, Danny took a deep breath and patted his friends on the back. “I can grab the pizza - I can fly, so unlike you two I can actually go and be back before the things are cold.” Before either friend could protest, Danny let the shimmering void of silvery dark cold spread out from the center of his chest to every hair on his body in a flash of light. He slipped through Sam and Tucker like water through the air and flew off toward the red aura of the pizza guy, diving to transform behind the front door when he appeared outside. In just a moment he was back inside and setting three pizza boxes down on the snack table. “I see we got ourselves a meat-lovers for Tuck, a veggie everything for Sam, and-” Danny gasped. “A dragon’s tongue pizza for me! Aww, Sam~”

“Oh stuff it you goof,” Sam said as she and Tucker grabbed slices and plates. “I just knew that you’d complain your pizza isn’t spicy enough unless it has ghost peppers, reaper peppers and every other kind of spice known to man and dolphin on it.”

Tucker rolled his eyes, already scarfing down his first slice. “Dolphin? Really?”

“Dolphins are the closest animals to humans in behavior and observed intellect, Tucker.” Danny took the time to go through three slices of pizza while Sam ranted about how dolphins might as well be classified as non-human people before pointing accusatorily at her.

“There is nothing wrong with my sense of taste, thank you. Anyone with a strong enough tongue can handle this pizza, Sam.” Danny took a bite to emphasize his point and smirked when he was flipped off. “I’ve just got the strongest stomach here.”

“ Excuse you? ”

“Unlike you, I can eat veggies without my stomach declaring a mutiny.”

“Um, go fuck yourself? That was the lowest of all low blows, I am utterly betrayed !” Tucker covered his forehead with the back of his arm and half fell backward. “Truly, my trust has been shattered by mine own brother, how could you? And I’ll have you know that the amount of capsaicin you consume is well beyond what any human being should have in their body.”

“Funny, I’m pretty sure I’m not human.” Danny paused mid-chew, ignoring the look of disgust on Sam’s face over the two of them talking around their food. “I wonder… what smaller changes like that might be going on because of my ghost? Like, regular puberty is already horrible enough but now I’ve got like, ghost puberty to deal with.”

“First of all, ghost wise, you’re baby.” Danny pouted at Tucker, feeling mildly offended. “You haven’t even been half-dead for a whole year yet, you’re baby.”

“Tucker, can you be reasonable for one moment?” Danny nodded, gesturing to Sam, who was clearly the only one with her head on straight between them. “Danny is always baby, not just because of his ghost.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Danny rose up in front of the movie screen, less crossed in the air as he frowned down at his friends. “I am offended, I am revolted, I dedicate my life to our lord and savior Jesus Christ and this is the thanks I get?”

“I wonder,” Sam said loudly as she walked toward his pizza box. “What it would taste like if I put cotton candy on your pizza?” Danny dove for his pizza box, nearly crashing into Sam as he grabbed it up and flew toward the ceiling. He flipped upside down and stood with his feet to the ceiling, grinning down at his friends. Carefully opening his box he took out a slice and stopped.

“Sammy that is a wonderful question!” Gravity shifted, reasserted itself in the correct direction, and Danny flipped with it, landing in front of the cotton candy machine. He dipped his pizza slice into it and smirked at the despaired wail of his friend while he ran away from her, munching away at his unholy pizza slice. “This is so sad, Alexa-”

“You don’t think I’d have Alexa in my home, do you? First you defile my cotton candy, now you insult my common sense? Do me a favor and parish.”

“Been there, done that.”

“As amazing as all that is, I was wondering something about you, Danny.” Danny flew over to Tucker, landing on his shoulders with a snicker. “So like, can you do that thing from the movie? Like, turn your head all the way around like an owl?”

A wide grin spread over Danny’s face and he set his food down on the table, before pulling the void up and out and around himself. Bright silver light illuminated Tucker and cast odd shadows on his face. To think about later. Danny turned his head slowly, cautious of being wrong, and almost stopped when he heard the pop of the joints in his neck. Still, he kept going until he was looking at Sam’s gaping face right behind him. He raised a hand to give her a thumbs up and winced at the sound of more popping joints - though, fascinatingly enough… “None of this hurts at all.”

“Well now I gotta see you spider-walk up the walls, that’s just the natural result of you showing off like this, Danno.” Turning his head the rest of the way around, Danny saw Tucker’s phone pointed at him and snorted. “Dude this is wicked !”

“Oh my gods, we have to time you, hold on.” And like that, Danny was doing laps around the walls and ceiling, reversed on all fours while Sam timed him and Tucker recorded. When he dropped back down to the two rows of seats, Danny crossed his legs behind him with a hum.

“Anything else y’all wanna test?” Tucker raised his hand and Danny let his gaze slide from Tucker himself to the brilliant yellow-gold-grek air around him. “I’m going to regret hearing out this question, aren’t I?” Tucker nodded, his grin widening and the grek in his aura growing brighter. Danny sighed and pointed at his brother.

“Can you possess people? Cause that would be pretty fuckin cool.” Tucker T posed as if that would help Danny with the wave of discomfort that crashed over him at the idea. “How would you know? Go ahead, try me. See if you can like, take me over.”

Danny drew the darkness back into his chest, warmth and the beat of his heart and the weight of gravity tugging relentlessly against him like countless invisible chains made themselves known to him. Digging in his pocket, Danny pulled out a coin, looking at Tucker with as much seriousness on his face as possible. “Heads I tell you to yeet your PDA into the cotton candy, tails I try to possess you.” Danny flipped the quarter and caught it in his open palm. He took in a deep breath through his nose, and let it out the same way. “Shut.”

Slipping back into the void, Danny stared at his Tposing best friend and considered just how he was supposed to do what he had asked. The only thing that made any sense, of course, was to slide even deeper into the void. Light and sound and even the air circulating through the room all faded away and the world shifted like a gradient scale from Xtreme Indigo to a deep dark blue sprinkled with green that lit up the empty world in bands, rivers, and threads that Danny could’ve stared at for the rest of his life and probably never grown tired of. The only constants were the gold and green aurae at the ends of silver threads that shone like solid moonlight. Danny dove for the golden light and dipped a hand in where he guessed Tucker’s head was. The silver thread practically yanked him in, and Danny sank into a desert of yellow and glittering light.

In the next instant, he was blinking unfamiliar eyes, falling out of a dumb pose he hadn’t taken, stumbling on legs longer than he was used to and warmer than he’d been in months. “Holy shit.” Danny held out his - Tucker’s hands and turning them over each other again and again. He took a few testing steps forward and back, turning and stretching every way he’d ever seen Tucker move, and felt a laugh bubble out of hi-Tuck’s mouth. “Sam holy shit!”

Sam was staring at Tucker-Danny like he was the most out of this world thing she’d ever laid eyes on and she wasn’t sure how to react to him. The cheer of figuring out yet another ability dimmed at the sight of her expression and what might’ve been horror was building itself up in his chest. Then Sam schooled her expression and pointed at him. “You sound the way you do when the two of you are speaking in unison.”

“I feel like I’m wearing a costume that doesn’t fit right, I’ll be honest about that. Stars, Tucker’s vision is horrible.”

“Alright, that voice thing is actually getting annoying, can you like, leave him now?” A moment of silence passed, the room growing incredibly small and Sam stepped closer. “Danny, you can leave Tucker’s body now, right?”

“Gimme a second, Sam, I didn’t know I could go into him in the first place.” Danny huffed and closed his eyes. He focused on what was different and wrong about being in Tucker’s body instead of his own, thought about floating upward to the surface of a large body of water, the moon coming to his mind’s eye and he reached for it. There was a solid kick at the edge of his shadows, golden sands rising up and filling the empty space to push him up and out toward the moonlight and-

Danny flopped onto the ground face first, sensing a trend of him faceplanting on Sam’s floor, and Tucker let out a loud gasp. “Holy balls, that was weird as fuck !” Danny flipped around onto his back, letting his own familiar warmth and heartbeat fill his senses before he looked up at Tucker and found him wiggling his fingers and toes. “It was like blacking out or something. I had the weirdest dream where I was like, I dunno, made of fire or something?”

“It was a lot of weird, hard to describe feelings on my end but mostly like a suit that doesn’t fit right. Like, I know what my body feels like and that wasn’t mine, ya know?” Sam and Tucker nodded and while Danny knew they had absolutely no idea what he meant, it was relieving all the same. Standing up, Danny reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the scanner he’d printed earlier. “By the way, I made something that’ll help me get back into school.”

Tucker, without missing a beat, said, “That sounds like a horrible evil device.” Sam snorted and Danny nodded. “What does it do?”

Danny launched into an explanation of what he’d learned about ectosignatures and his idea for tricking the security system at school. “Also,” Danny added when it came to mind, “the car should be done printing in my basement by now.”

“Wait, you not only finished designing it but also started making it?” Sam looked between them with narrowed eyes. “What do you mean printing?”

“The Fenton Fabricator™ is a giant, modular, high detail 3D printer that can make complex metal technologies - like our hoverboards. The first 3D printed car took a couple of days and it wasn’t as complicated as this so I guessed about 48 hours.” Danny shrugged. “Probably done by now.”

“Isn’t that cool?” Tucker practically had stars in his eyes. “We can build anything in there, Sam!”

“Before that, we gotta get this ecto signature of Danny’s recorded." Sam held up the scanner and Danny nodded. Things had to happen in the right order or things would go wrong.

Danny reached inside of himself and pulled the dark, endless space between space that rested within him out to wrap around him like a cool, relaxing blanket. The extreme indigo of the world rose to an even more brilliant blue and purple that blended together and unwove from each other and wrapped around everything. Tucker shone from within with gold that glittered like desert sands and Sam was wreathed in the viridian green of the forests. The threads between them were silver and thick as though woven from many. "I never need to take drugs cause all I need to do to get a trip is go ghost. I swear."

"Yeah, well, I think I have the reading on you right here. Tucker, can you make any sense of this?" Tucker rolled over and stared at the data on the Fenton Finder remake. After a moment of silence, Tuck started tapping away at his PDA ferociously. "I'm gonna guess that means yes."

"I can record this signal and have a filter to keep the school's system from recognizing you as a threat by tonight. Think we can break in and do it then?"

"Probably," Danny shrugged, flipping a few times in the air. "Ishiyama probably had them set the security system to an activation button or lever or verbal input. They wouldn't want them to make something automatic in case a ghost was too close to a student."

"Fair. Tomorrow night then?" Tucker grinned as Danny tucked that blanket of not so empty empty space back into the very center of his everything and flopped onto his seat.

"Sooner I can tell my family we beat Skulker the better. I don't like worrying them like this." Ever since his Spirit Vision or whatever got turned permanently on, Danny could feel the undercurrent of anxiety that ran through his family. It made his skin crawl with the itch to make them all feel better and left a bitter taste on his tongue.

"Agreed, I can only keep this info from my parents for so long." Sam sighed, rolling her eyes. With a grin she handed the scanner fully over to Tucker and ran a hand through Danny's hair, messing it up as much as she could.

Danny swatted away Sam's hand after a moment and sank further into the soft cushiony seat. "Your chair is eating me, Sammy."

"You've been getting a healthier amount of meat on you, so yeah it might be." Tucker was steadily getting engrossed in his task and Danny knew they had precious few seconds before he was completely lost to them so he decided now was a good time to be a dick.

“So like, when the first hoverboard exploded and I put up a forcefield on a reflex we completely skipped over that cause of hyper-focus but like. Should we talk about that?"

"You have protective instincts," Tucker mumbled, "and ghost stuff reacts to the deeper parts of your mind right? So it's just you defending someone you care about."

"Which reminds me." Sam poked Danny in the sides until he was squirming and giggling to get away. "You're keeping like, a journal of all the things you can do right?"

"Mostly notes on what I learned about ghosts in general, like a bullet point list of the stuff that happened with Agatha and Skulker, and stuff but yeah. I need to add ‘owl neck’ and ‘possession’ to my list of Things I Can Do."

“And what, pray tell, is on that list?”

"I can turn intangible or invisible, defy- no, actually, with what happened at the zoo I guess I can influence gravity, I can see all the radiation in the world, which is a trip lemme tell ya, I can apparently make a wall of ectoplasm?" Tucker and Sam were staring at him for a long beat of silence before both were tackling Danny and pulling him into a big group hug. “I know, I’m awesome, but so are you guys and you should celebrate it.”

“Yeah, I am pretty awesome,” Tucker said with a grin. “You guys are lucky to know me. I feel I deserve a reward for the amazingness I bring to this group.” Tucker was promptly dropped by Sam onto the floor and Danny laughed.

“Another cool thing you can do is heal yourself and other people.” Sam poked Danny in the side until he was squirming away from her in that unreal state of being, slipping through her fingers like the space between air and flopped onto Tucker’s lap before solidity came back to him. “That’s probably one of the coolest powers you have.”

“One day, Tucker is going to copy everything I can do, but with technology.” Danny poked Tucker a couple of times and got his hand swatted away for his trouble. “He’s already copied my language-”

“Spanish doesn't belong to you just because your dad is Mexican, Danny, try again.”

“And now he’s tryna say what’s mine isn’t even mine, can you believe this guy?” Danny didn’t even try to hold in his laughter now, waving a hand emphatically in Tucker’s face. “Next he’ll say I’m not the greatest ghost fighter in the world-”

“Your Mom.”

“Or the first boy to step foot on the moon-”

“Neil Armstrong - also, did you just say you walked on the m-”

“Or the unthinkable, like I’m not the very first Fenton that’s gonna be built like a brick house.”

“No no, you can’t just talk your way out of this one, Danny, you were on the moon? ” Ah, Danny loved riling up his friends.

#Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #Tucker Foley #Sam Manson #OCs #Maddie Fenton #Jack Fenton #Jazz Fenton #Fanfiction #Phanfiction #fanPhiction #Phanphiction #fanfic #phanfic #fanphc #Phanphic #MCS #Monstrous Chosen Spellslingers #Rexy Writes

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southernchicstyle · 4 years

Text

The Big ONE

Photos by Daniel Ortiz

I always think my party ideas for the kids are so original until I start looking for items for them and find a million parties done in the same theme. Our son’s first birthday was no exception, but I like to think we put it all together in a creative way you haven’t seen yet... Reeling in the Big ONE!

Our little guy turned the big ONE and we had the best time celebrating with a fishing themed party. Keep reading and scrolling for ALL of the details with photos by Daniel Ortiz .

Fishing bobbers, nets, lures (keep out of reach of little hands because the hooks are sharp!), lanterns, and cattails all came to mind immediately as I gathered decorations for the party. “We’re reeling in the big ONE” read the invite. A comprehensive list of the items will be at the bottom of this post, but I also linked the ones I refer to in the body of the post like the fish food tents above.

PHOTO OPP

A photo spot with bobbers and nets formed in my brain as I pinned ideas, and the variations of those came together to create this one I’m so proud of below! My husband assembled scrap 2x4s we had that were painted grey into the photo frame.

The bobbers on the photo spot (pictured below) are paper lanterns we spray painted red on the bottom half (painters tape used to make the line) and the top (linking the paper lanterns). There’s pretend fish hanging below the bobbers on the left strung with fishing line.

And, the directional arrows pointing toward “fishing hole”, “weighing station”, “bait and tackle”, and “catch of the day” were cut by our friend and I drew the words and art on with paint markers. (pictured below)

ONE

My mom and her crafty skills is always a part of making these parties a reality and she helped put the finishing touches on the “ONE” for the picture table. I love how it turned out! We used styrofoam letters (”O”, “N”, “E” each linked), cut out one for the boats from the invitation for the “N”, and glued cardstock paper in red, white, blue and green to the letters. The blue waves we cut out in different colors and there is twine wrapped around the “E” and the cattails.

We also had to secure the letters to the backdrop (tape was sufficient) since they are styrofoam and could easily fall over.

MONTHS

Each of the months (on paper bobbers from newborn to one) just HAD to be displayed on a net, so figuring out how to secure them was a challenge we solved by hot glueing small clothespins to the back of the flat paper bobbers and taping pennies to the back of the pictures to attempt to keep them all from blowing up when the wind blew.

The wind had other ideas, but it looked good throughout the party.

The red lanterns, net, fishing lures, small fishing bobbers, and cups are all linked. Click on the words to shop them. And, the tackle box on the table was a Houston Nutcracker Market find.

TIME CAPSULE

We also decided to do a time capsule (directions in the frame on the left in the photo above) at our guy’s 1st birthday. I regretted not doing one for our daughter’s first birthday after my mother-in-law passed shortly after the party. Each person in attendance can write a message to the birthday kiddo and answer some fun questions about what they think the child will be and like, etc. Your child can read all of the messages when they turn 18!

What I’d give for a message from my mother-in-law for our daughter to read when she’s older.

FISHING SHIRT

For our big guy’s outfit, I found an adorable baby fishing shirt onesie for our birthday boy to wear for his party. Even if you’re not doing a fishing themed party, this shirt was so cute on him!

Our nanny made the balloon 1 with fishing line and balloons pictured above. Linked the balloons we purchased here. We went for a slight ombre effect with more light blue on the top and dark blue on the bottom. (Would recommend buying a couple of packs to ensure you have enough of each color)

FISHING THEMED FOOD

Galvanized buckets were the perfect serving piece for the food along with fishing related food items, like gummy worms labeled as “worms”, Twizzlers as “fishing line”, Swedish Fish, Goldfish, peach rings as “Life Preservers” and pretzel sticks as “fishing rods”. The pretend fish decorating the tables are foam (squishy is the best way I can describe them) but really good looking and linked here.

I also saw the puffer fish idea online and thought it would be fun for the kids to have the punch balloons to play with. And, I was a bit nostalgic thinking back to playing with punch balloons as a kid. Obviously, one year olds weren’t doing much balloon punching, but they were fun for older kids.

The wooden boat and boxes on the food table were borrowed from a friend, but the white 1 was purchased online. Also borrowed fishing poles that were used throughout the party.

ACTIVITIES

Along with puffer fish punch balloons, we had a “Catch and Release” activity where we put water in a kiddie pool with fish in it and fishing poles (magnets on the poles and fish connect the two) where kids could attempt to catch fish. And, our “Feed the Fish” station was a bean bag toss which has now been repainted for a third time to have fish swimming.

The printables I used for the activity signs & favors are here:

Bait Bar

Thank You for Making my Birthday Reel Fun

Catch and Release (couldn’t find this one so I used my own skills to make one)

Feed the Fish (couldn’t find this one so I used my own skills to make one)

CUPCAKES

When it comes to kids and cake, I’ve become a big believer in cupcakes being the easiest all around. They don’t have to be cut, don’t require a fork or spoon, and are cost effective. So, this time I did store cupcakes from our Kroger with blue icing and bobbers on top (linking the bobbers here).

If my son ever decides to be a fisherman, we now have bobbers and lures for days!

CENTERPIECES

Cattails for centerpieces made for a simple table decoration. I used the galvanized buckets with paper in the bottom (had a bunch from all of my Amazon orders) then river rocks on top to fill the bucket with the cattails secured in between. Around the buckets we draped some fishing net with some smaller rocks, lures (be careful of the sharp hooks), and bobbers.

The cocktail tables I use are linked here along with the table covers. For the bigger tables, I used a fun blue with the raised circles adding texture to the table.

DIAPER COVER

My goal with the “Ofishally ONE” diaper cover was to get a picture of him in just that, but this was the best I got. Fishing shirt and diaper cover. It’s still adorable, though! And, you get a close up look at the baby fishing shirt.

I’ve learned to let some things go at the parties and enjoy it. Hard for a type A personality like me, for sure!

EDIBLE CATTAILS

These cattails are Swiss Rolls on on bamboo skewers (which we cut to eliminate the point on the end) held in place by styrofoam under the moss in an oval galvanized tub. And, bobbers made everything more festive!

Now, I have to share our learning. The Swiss Rolls will slide down the skewers since they are standing upright, so we cut slivers of wine cork and slid them under the rolls to hold them up. Completely a game time call as they were sliding right before guests arrived. You can see the cork if you look closely.

The cutest cookies were done by a local baker, Sweets by Shey: bobbers, fish, “Gone Fishing” sign, and one that looked like an oval piece of wood with “The Big ONE” on it.

The other two items, scalloped napkins and fish coasters, pictured below were perfect additions to the party. The scalloped napkins with a gold trim were a fun nod to the scales on a fish while still keeping an elegance to them. I found the coasters at HomeGoods randomly and snagged the “Drink Up” coasters for the event.

TABLES, CHAIRS, TABLECLOTHS

Here’s a closeup of the texture of the blue/turquoise raised petal tablecloths. I used cream colored ones for my daughter’s 2nd birthday Bubble Bash so when I saw this color I knew it was perfect for the party.

Also linking the tables and chairs that at this point have been used for 4 birthday parties and a couple of other events. For us, since we have room to store it all, buying was ideal.

BANNERS

The banners I found online were perfect for the background of the cake smashing. “The Big One” banner is customizable and comes with the fish and bobbers also (or without if you choose). The cute “ONE” for the highchair was an easy order and great quality!

I hung the big banners behind the high chair on bamboo poles and put the bamboo poles through actual fishing poles so the fishing poles flank the banners. They somewhat blend in with the busy vine background, but the small detail made me happy.

SMASH CAKE

For a smash cake, there’s a baker in my area that makes a blueberry cake (it was INCREDIBLE) and could create this “wave” look - Kingwood Bakery. I found the fish and “The Big One” sign cake topper online and added them myself along with the 1 candle. I used a log cake stand that has come in handy more often than I anticipated.

Below you can see the layout of the time capsule pages I printed (they were an easy printable I found online) that went with the theme. It includes sections like “When you grow up I think you will be...” and “How do I know you?” to name a couple.

FAVORS

Fishing pole favors were a must! I found little water squirting fish, handheld fish water games, fish stickers, and Swedish Fish and cinched them in clear favor bags with twine tied to sticks we collected around the house. Gathering sticks was a fun activity for my daughter to feel like she was a part of the planning.

The printable tags were easy to print, but I had Katie & Co print and cut them to make sure the bobbers were cut correctly. And, I printed a sign that was framed near the favors that said “Thank You for Making My Birthday Reel Fun!”

My apologies to my friends/the parents who had sticks in their cars on the way home, but it was really cute!

Unlike his sister, our little guy dug right in to the cake and enjoyed eating it! I love this picture that Daniel Ortiz captured of him once we took the cake away. O-fish-ally ONE!

We love that so many friends celebrate with us. And, below is a close up of the photo spot (you can see the paper lantern bobbers) with two of my friends that are so good about coming!

POOL BOBBERS

Having our pool completed literally the week of the party was chaotic, but I was able to create my big bobbers for the pool. This was not a perfectly executed project, but overall I was happy with them and they looked great. The top is a to-go container spray painted red and the bottom is a red plastic tablecloth taped to the floating orbs I purchased with red Duck Tape.

The taping of the tablecloth to the orb was a feat in itself. With help from my family, we did it once and then redid it. Ultimately, the tablecloth was taped at the base of the orb. It will take in water, so I attempted to tape the seam as well as we could.

I wish I could give a step but step tutorial, but the pool bobber was truly a “try and see what works” experience. Biggest tip: have patience and don’t be afraid to redo them if they don’t look right.

**A big thank you to all of my family who helps me execute all of my ideas and to Daniel Ortiz for the great photos!

__________________________________________________________________

Reeling in the Big One Party Supplies

- Bait Bar Sign (printable) $2.50

- Balloons (light blue, white, and true blue, 100 pack) $10.99

- Banner: The Big One (personalized banner linked w bobbers & fish) $44

- Banner: Burlap One for Highchair $10.99

- Bobbers (small for cupcakes and tables) $6.49

- Cattails (set of 4 sprays) $24.99

- Cake Stand (Rustic Log) $48.86

- Cake Topper: “The Big One” starts at $14.99 (linked similar as exact one no longer available)

- Chairs (individual and 4 pack) $44.72 and $142.41

- Cups (gold rimmed, 50 count) $14.99

- Diaper Cover: “Ofishally One” $20

- Duck Tape (red) $7.08

- Favor Tags: Bobbers $3 (in favors: Fish water game, Swedish Fish, Stickers)

- Favor Bags (100 clear bags) $3.98

- Favor Tags (bobber printable) $3

- Fish (foam, decorative on tables and photo spot, set of 3) $15.91

- Fish & Poles for Catch and Release $13.86

- Fish Coasters (unavailable online, cork ones here $12.24)

- Fish Food Tents Printable $3.50

- Fishing Game (fish and 2 poles) $28

- Fishing Lures $18.99 (found a similar set for $15.99)

- Fishing Net (natural color 2 pack) $9.50

- Fishing Net (blue) $5.52

- Fishing Shirt (for baby) $37.99

- Fish Squirts (for Favors) $7.49

- Fish Stickers for Favors (3D puffy, 20 sheets) $7.97

- Fish Water Games for Favors (assorted with others) $38.99

- Galvanized Buckets (small, set of 12) $18.87

- Galvanized Buckets (large, 2 gallon) $28.98

- Galvanized Tub (for edible cattails) $31.99

- Highchair Banner - ONE $10.99

- Invitiations: “Reeling in the Big One” file $11.99

- Kiddie Pool (45 x 10″) $10.39

- Lanterns (red) $9.97

- Months Paper Bobbers $9.50

- Moss (SuperMoss Spanish Moss) $9.52

- ONE letters (12 inch styrofoam “O”, “N”, and “E”) $9.98 each

- Paper Lanterns (made into bobbers, set of three 8 in white) $10.99

- Plastic Red Tablecloth $14.99

- Pool Orbs (made into bobbers) $89.99

- Puffer Fish (Punch Balloons, 30 count) $10.99

- Scalloped Napkins with gold trim $9.99

- Skewers (bamboo, 100 pieces) $6.95

- Swedish Fish (0.5 oz packages, 64 count) $14.99

- Swiss Rolls (for edible cattails, 6 boxes, 36 count) $11.94

- Tables: cocktail ($107.88) and large 60″ round ($118.99)

- Tablecovers (cocktail) $16.99

- Tablecloths (blue with raised round petals) $39.99

- “Thank You for Making My Party REEL Fun” signage - $2.50

- Time Capsule Printables $8

- Twine (2 roles x 656 feet) $9.89

- Wooden 1 (8 cm tall) $7.89

***Photos by Daniel Ortiz

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doublerumnukacola · 5 years

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Falling for you was easy...

(From chapter 9: Dying Twice...)

The shopping trip went uneventfully. It wasn’t hard to get what they needed, after hitting up a few hardware stores. It almost felt like the days before the war, except she was replacing coupons with bullets.

They found a little alleyway near Diamond city that had a firepit and beds. Sole recognised the place, she’d cleared it out of Raiders months ago. It was surprising no one had moved in since then. Since she was here though, it wouldn’t hurt to install a few turrets to keep the neighbors from getting too friendly. She looked at her pip-boy map, and noted it’d named this place ‘Hangman’s Alley’. Not exactly a welcoming title.

“You think that’s enough magnets?” Sole asked, looking in her rucksack as they sat at their camp.

“If not, I’m sure we can pick up a few more from ’Dickhead’ City.” Hancock suggested. “Only as a last resort though.” He started a fire under the cooking pot. “What are you in the mood for, I take requests.”

“Well we got enough water from the last settlement we helped to make a stew… Mix some carrots, corn, and noodles together… But it will need some protein.” She looked through her bag. There was a dented tin of cram, but not much else.

“How does mirelurk sound?” She asked, getting up. Hancock looked at her incredulously, ready to object. “Yeah, too late, I got a taste for it now. Be back in 10 minutes, tops.”

“Hold it, Sister, you sure you want to take those on without backup?” He asked, starting to get up.

“Yeah I’m sure. Besides, you need to guard camp, get the stew ready, etc.” She argued. “I can handle a few crabs. Been doing it since college.” She chuckled at the joke that flew over his head. Hancock wanted to protest, but it wasn't worth arguing with a force of nature.

-------------------------------

She found a good perch from the second story of an old house that sat by the waterfront. She settled herself into position, looking down her scope at the waterfront. She could see a few soft shells guarding some eggs, a razorclaw nearby guarding them… But there was usually a Hunter around a cluster of this size. If she could find it away from the rest, she’d have some meat. Plus, the Hunters had a nicer taste, less bland.

She finally tracked one, the slight iridescence of its carapace made it hard to miss. She followed it with her crosshairs, watching it roam the perimeter of the nest, making mostly predictable paths. She just needed to wait for it to go out to the edge of the nest again, then she could take the shot.

There were footsteps on the floorboards behind her, but she kept her focus on the hunter. The steps got closer, the figure looming over her. She stayed put, took a breath, and made the shot. The mirelurk hunter explode into meaty chunks. She sighed, closing her eyes and rubbing the bridge of her nose.

“If you plan on killing me, go ahead. If not, I have dinner to make.” She said in annoyance.

“Well, mom always said I’d wind up in contract assassination.” A voice came from behind her. “But maybe not today, just got this disguise dry cleaned.” She started to disassemble her set up, from the stand on which she perched her rifle, and then the rifle itself.

“Lucky me.” She muttered. Deacon was leaning against a dilapidated dresser, blown apart from some disaster or another.

“You know, I get the feeling you don't actually mean that.” He observed. She slid all the pieces back into her rucksack.

“And I get the feeling you’ve been stalking us since we left HQ.” Sole said evenly. “So you know what we’ve been up to.”

“Scouring the waste land for microscopes and hot plates. A noble quest indeed.” Deacon noted. “Am I to assume it's all for our cause? The one you promptly shat on not 48 hours ago?”

“Not a proud moment.” Sole admitted, rubbing her eyes tiredly. “But I’m making it right.”

“No, you’re trying to bribe your way into our good graces.” Deacon said bitterly. “Pretty hard to take on the Commonwealth boogeyman armed with nothing but a gun and a positive attitude.”

“Who accused me of having as much as that?” Sole asked with an empty laugh. “Watch me do it with three well placed paperclips, a rubber band, and a turkey baster.”

“See who’s laughing when you are up to your neck in Gen 1’s and out of witty retorts.” Deacon cautioned. Sole walked past him and went to the stairs, carefully stepping to avoid the holes.

“Me? Run out of witty retorts? You’re Intel is worse than your disguises.” Sole spat behind her. He followed her down the stairs, his sneakers cautiously treading over each step.

“Oh now you’re just being mean.” Deacon said, hugging the metal banister as he made his way down. He tentatively made the next step, but made the mistake of putting too much weight on the rickety stair. There was a creak of wood, then a crack. Sole stopped. Deacon was frozen, one wrong move would send him into the debris below.

They both looked down, the floor was scattered with sharp splintered wood and broken metal.

“At least there's a soft landing…” Deacon muttered. Sole was quickly getting in the same situation, the steps she was on were groaning under her weight. She looked around, there wasn't much. She looked at the bannister Deacon held onto. It was rickety, but the enameled metal went all the way to the ground. Safely over the debris.

“Hey Deacon, you ever think about sliding down the railing when you go into a metro? Or a broken escalator in a Fallon’s department store?” She asked, grabbing onto the bannister to secure it more.

“Now is really not the time to-” Deacon started, but a crack of wood shook him and he leapt onto the banister, propelling himself down as fast as he could until he fell off at the bottom, collapsing to the ground. Sole sighed in relief.

Then there was another crack. She felt the floor fall away beneath her, sending her tumbling down into the debris. She slammed against the splintered wood, feeling the shards drive into her skin. She cried out, the sound almost crushed out of her throat on impact, before her body rolled to a stop on a fractured slab of cement.

She was in shock, her heart was pounding, ears buzzing with white noise, vision fuzzy… Could she still move? At first there was nothing, her limbs stayed limp on the ground. She couldn't move. Terror gripped her, she was paralysed. Then it came back to her, her mind remembering how to move her body. She tried to sit up, but the shock that had been numbing her suddenly lifted. She gasped, a deluge of agony rippling through her. Her ribs were very very broken. She lay on the slab, trembling with pain, trying to stifle the tremors with short breaths, closing her eyes. She had survived raiders, gunners, super mutants, and particularly spirited radroaches… And now she would die to gravity, that most cruel Mistress. If she could still laugh, the building would have rung with the sound.

“Hey Charmer, buddy, talk to me…” Deacon called down. She almost smiled at his voice. Almost. At least if she died here, he would tell it as a more interesting end. She tried her best to respond through the pain.

“That… That’s… Going to bruise…” She called back weakly. She coughed, there was a lot of dust in air now, made it a little hard to breathe. Fractured bone digging into her lungs made it difficult as well.

“Don't scare me like that!” Deacon called, looking for a safe way over to her. Cement and rebar blocked most of his path, but if he could squeeze through, he could check on her.

Then there was a scuttling sound behind him. The Mirelurks nearby had come to inspect the commotion. Deacon scanned the surroundings, the crabs were making their way quickly from the waterfront, but didn't seem to have spotted them yet.

He didn't have much on him, but he did have the vodka bottle Sole had left him, the shirt on his back, and most crucially a lighter. But he only had one of each.

He quickly assembled a molotov, stripping off and stuffing the whole shirt into the bottle.

He took a breath, lit it, and lobbed it as far from the building as he could, landing with an explosive crash on the other side of the street. He held his breath. The scuttling stopped.

The creature inspected the scene, before returning to the nest, its curiosity satisfied. Deacon took a breath. At least that crisis was averted.

He returned his attention to Sole. If another Mirelurk came near and found her, she was as good as dead. If she didn't get a stimpak soon she was as good as dead. If her wounds weren't tended to soon, she was as good as- Actually he hadn't heard anything from her. She could be dead already.

Deacon carefully made his way through the cement and rebar, and tread over the splintered wood to where she lay. He stopped as soon as he saw her. Her face was pale, it took him a second to notice it was from the concrete dust, coating her hair and eyebrows, as if she’d been there for years. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was laboured. Blood seeped down the stone slab she lay on, dripping into a puddle on to the dusty ground. The splintered wood she’d hit was lanced into her side, soaked with blood. For once he was speechless, and a little nauseous.

“Still… Alive…” She managed, trying to move, but wincing in pain. He knelt beside her. “Just… Resting…” He couldn't move her, not by himself. He’d cause more damage even attempting.

The kindest thing to do, would be to end her now. If he could.

She knew what he was thinking. She knew him too well. The least she could do was give him enough time to do it.

“Tell… Me…” She whispered quietly. He leaned close to hear her. “... A… Story…” He held his breath. It was the only thing he was good at. He sat up beside her, clearing his throat. It was the least he could do for her.

“I ever tell you about the time I sailed to Greenland?” He started, keeping his voice quiet in case of hostiles. “Meant to just sail up the coast to another Railroad outpost, but time and tide had other ideas…” He looked down, she stirred a little. “Tell you what, if you think the Yao-gui are bad here, you try a polar bear. Big as a deathclaw, and twice as deadly.” She just kept breathing, he couldn't even tell if she was awake. “Heard that one, huh? Yeah I figured. How about this one.” He swallowed, trying to quietly clear his throat. He took off his sunglasses so he could take one last look at her. Without the filter, she looked so much more feeble, he could see all the cuts and bruises on her face. She was in so much pain...

“This story is about… A Vault dweller.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “She woke up in a barren hellscape, having lost everyone she ever loved, and set out to make it right. This Vault dweller, from the time they woke up, had a second shadow.” He paused, gauging her reaction. Still nothing, but he continued.

“This shadow had noticed a lot of activity by the Bad guys around this Vault dweller, lots of coming and going. So when she finally came out, the shadow had to watch them. He wasn't sure if she was going to be good or bad, so he kept his distance. But he watched her help innocents, and rebuild lives. He watched her desperate and helpless, looking for her only child.”

He took another breath, steading his voice. He had to finish the damn story. He owed her that and so much more. “One day, he started the Vault dweller on a path to find him. A clue here, a hint there… And she did. He stuck to her after that. And he got to see up close all the good she did. But there was more than that. He watched the way she collected keepsakes from their adventures, and always read through the terminals and notes left behind by the old world she’d come from, even though she knew they didn't have a happy ending. The shadow asked her about that, she said they deserved their last thoughts to be heard. Ain't that something?” He coughed, trying to keep his voice from breaking. It might have been the light, but he could have sworn her head was tilted towards him now… He couldn’t believe the last thing she wanted to hear was his voice...

“And the shadow ended up opening up to her. Ended up spilling all his big secrets. Or at least, some of them. He kept the most important ones for himself. And that was where he went wrong.” He leaned back against a jutting piece of rebar. “He kept the most important secret to himself… The Shadow helped her kill a killer, and then she kissed me…-The Shadow, I mean… and he… He pushed her away. Then he wonders why the Vault dweller doesn't want to see him anymore. But he couldn't help seeing her.”

He closed his eyes, reaching for his silenced pistol. She deserved better. “And even after all that. All the lies, and the rejection, and the heartbreak… She still risked her life for his. Even though the first thing he tried to tell her was ‘don't be a hero’. But then, when did she ever listen to him…” He clicked off the safety. He watched her chest rise and fall unevenly, pain in every breath. He was drawing out her suffering for his cowardice. He took a breath. “Good talk, Charms…” He lifted the barrel to her skull.

Then he heard a voice, raspy and desperate.

“Sole! Where the fuck are you?” Hancock hissed, walking slowly outside the building, only a few feet away from them. “Sole, c’mon, I don’t even like Mirelurk!” Deacon couldn't believe his luck. He stashed away the pistol hurriedly. Hancock was already moving further down the street, still calling out quietly for her. Deacon knelt down beside Sole so she could hear him.

“Stay with me Charmer, if you see a bright light and hear your grandmother’s voice calling you, tell her to fuck off. You still have business here.” He whispered quickly, before taking off after Hancock.

-------------------------------

Continued on ao3

#Deacon #hancock #fallout 4 #fallout fanfic

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yejin-seong · 5 years

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you won’t believe who i just saw walking down main street! KANG SEULGI! what do you mean that’s just YEJIN SEONG? who is SHE? a 23-year-old EVENT PLANNING ASSISTANT…interesting. and the CIS FEMALE is + ADVENTUROUS & + DILIGENT, but i should watch out for when they are - CREDULOUS & - TIMID? will do.

hi all! i’m boop and i’m really stoked (and nervous lmao) to be here! i’m kinda just throwing everything i had written in the app under here, so pls be warned: it’s long. at any rate, i’m looking forward to writing with you all, and pls don’t hesitate to drop a “like” or a dm if you’d like to plot together!

past:

the youngest of three children who just so happens to be most-favored to take over the family business (manufacturing/distributing parts for assembly of electronics)

born and primarily raised in Korea, but studied abroad to obtain a bachelor’s degree in business administration

had a small background in music; i.e. was given singing/dancing lessons and is (semi-secretly) self-taught in piano

really fell in love with all things art-related throughout her undergraduate studies. there was a point she considered minoring in dance — maybe even majoring in it — but was too scared to fess up. her parents never relented in pushing her toward her original “choice” of study area

graduated last year, but sought out a position to use as an excuse to justify prolonged time overseas

present:

employed as an event planning assistant under Grace Oh! she’s told her parents that “event planning is the perfect way to practice my skills in a fast-paced environment”

truth be told, her heart isn’t entirely in her work. this isn’t to say that she doesn’t work hard— a tremendous amount of effort is placed into everything she does, but there’s no denying that she wants to see more of the world (more art) before she gets stuck in a position she’s not really passionate about

currently living in a small, studio apartment. the furnishings are very minimal— think a living room area that’s completely barren minus a large mirror. she actually uses this space to practice her dancing

sometimes she visits the local gym in her spare time, specifically when the classrooms are empty. it’s a nice change of scenery and she can also pretend that she’s not just chasing a silly interest

personality:

puts 120% into everything she does, even if it’s not something she enjoys

although she studied in America for the four years preceding, she’s still not completely confident in her english-speaking skills. this makes her more reserved than she would typically be

lawful good in the sense that she wants to do “what’s right” (respecting tradition, fulfilling parental expectations) but chaotic tendencies because “there’s more to life than just all that”

easy to take advantage of, either because she “feels bad for saying ‘no’” or because she trusts too deeply/quickly

not forthcoming about her passions. she’ll sing to her heart’s content when she’s in the privacy of her room or in the shower, but she holds back anywhere else

an actual magnet for accidents when she’s not dancing

the sunshine that peeks through the clouds on a mostly-overcast day. she restrains herself from expressing her interests so boldly, but there’s a brightness to her— in her intellect, through her warmth when communicating with others, and especially in the rare times she allows her deepest passions to flow freely

possible plots/connections: (not by any means comprehensive!)

neighbors

gym buddy — or really anyone random — who discovers her dancing

someone who recognizes/knows her from school? (maybe even from her home country?)

people that she bothers for directions and/or guidance

#chintro #.i kinda threw everything under the cut...#.warning: it's long!

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micromanclub · 6 years

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1999 Interview with Iwakichi Ogawa, Creator of Microman

The following interview was translated from the fantastic 1999 Tokuma Shoten publication, Roman Album Hyper Mook 6: Henshin Cyborg and Microman Victory Project

President and Representative Director of Russell, Ltd. Iwakichi Ogawa

From here on [in this section of the book], we’ll introduce the inventors behind the history of creating the Takara original SF toys. Iwakichi Ogawa, having been involved in the development of Henshin Cyborg and production of Microman himself, is a living witness to the history of the Takara SF toys. His eyes shone like a young boy’s as he shared with us the behind the scenes story of these two major heroes.

--Ogawa-san, you handled making prototypes, right?

That’s right. I was originally in my college’s economics department, with a focus on marketing, and nothing to do with development work, one might say. But you know, I loved doing it and learning everything after joining Takara, so that by the time of Cyborg and Microman, I had begun to sculpt my own prototypes by hand.

--You only started creating models after you had joined Takara?

Precisely. I had a subordinate, a nice guy who had been in his university’s art club who I told, “teach me, too.” (laughs)

--That must have been nice, getting to paid to learn on the job. (laughs)

You mean playing every day from morning to night, and getting paid for it, right? (laughs) Oh, I played, all right. When establishing the (Japanese localized) rules for “The Game of Life”--adapting this thing which came from America--it couldn’t be anything but fun coming up with the “directions for each space”. If someone complained at the time, “oh, all you’re doing is goofing off,” I would answer, “no, this is work, you see,” but that was a lie. (laughs)

--Well then, please tell us about the time Henshin Cyborg was created.

As you are aware, the forerunner to Henshin Cyborg was Hasbro’s GI Joe, which began around the time I was on “The Game of Life”, so I was not directly responsible for that. “GI Joe will do well” was Takara president Yasuta Satou’s insight. So soon we were all on GI Joe. It was at a point when sales had declined a bit that I remember one fellow suggested, “let’s make a transparent one”. So the molding section at the factory followed up and produced one. Once it was assembled, the reaction was “hey, this looks pretty cool.” It had thick areas where the screws were inside it, right? From the side, it had a really amazing look to it. Though parts of the joints were made out of nylon, I could work with that.

The young guy responsible (he was around 24-25?) had incredibly good sense. Being transparent was just how it started, with it being plain and hollow, of course we needed to make the insides. But at the time, Takara was focused mostly on producing games and Licca-chan dolls, so there was no separate department yet for boys’ toys. Therefore, I wound up taking some kits of motorbikes that the model companies Tamiya and Arii were making at the time which had chrome-plated parts, and put those bits inside. So the first Cyborg we previewed at an industry trade show had a motorcycle engine for his innards.

At that time we stated the head was still under development, and just used a metal spring inside it. When the actual design was made, it was created by Dan Kobayashi (known since for creating Gaiking and Danguard Ace among others).　He did all the prototyping for the head and the finer detailing. Though the prototype was made in wax, I noticed quickly that it was green. Normally the wax is brown but when I asked him about it, he said, “sorry, that’s my secret.” It was a custom mix of waxes that was extraordinarily fine and easy to texture and tailor. I managed to get some and started using it in my own prototypes. Kobayashi-san worked with me on the prototypes for Microman as well. The prototypes for the Microman breastplates were made from a kind of plaster. Kobayashi used this plaster because silicon was expensive in those days.

Well, it’s actually called “rebase”, and it’s what dentists use to repair crowns in their work. It hardens quickly, making it easy to work with. Come to think of it, when we were doing Microman Command’s capsule later on, I forgot how it happened, but the mold wound up with a small “Ogawa” (小川) inside it, and I believe you can find it in there. (laughs)

--Well that’s… (laughs) I’ll check later when I get a chance (later on I confirmed that it can be seen molded into Command 3’s capsule). So, speaking of Microman, can you talk about how that began?

In fact, it started with GI Joe. GI Joe sold incredibly well at first, but eventually not so well, which was when my superior Wakase-san said “we should make these smaller.” He had worked in steel manufacturing, a very talented man. “You can’t produce vehicles when they are this big, so make them smaller,” was the advice of my boss from back then. We were still producing the original flesh-colored GI Joe at that time. Yet at that point it was totally undoable, with joints already smaller than you’d find on your own pinky finger. So, after trying anyway using insect mounting pins, I said “this isn’t viable (for production)”, to which Wakase-san answered, “ah, well”. Later, Cyborg became extremely popular. But both GI Joe and Cyborg were still too big to make vehicles for them to drive. So once again I confronted making the “miniature poseable figure” with the desire to make it possible at whatever cost. In any case, we needed to solve the joint problem, so I tried many different methods; using a beaded key chain to try making small ball and sockets, and other such ideas. But these would come apart after repeated use by a child. This was the biggest issue Microman would face. Then, with a portable folding ruler I found something—a tiny rivet, only 2mm wide. I began to hunt for it. It came from the shop making Licca-chan backpacks. I learned they had a machine that could install 2mm rivets automatically, so I checked, but while the rivets were 2mm in diameter, they were much too long. There’s no choice but to make the rivets shorter. After confirming it was possible, I asked Kobayashi-san for about 3 test sample bodies. With that, we assembled them with the fresh rivets, and the heads of the rivets looked quite cool. “This is good,” I thought as I could now put a request in with the boss which would only require a single mold casting. Nikkou Toys (a tin toy maker at the time) or such ought to be able to take the order. When I thought about the potential to use it with translucent parts, I was dumbstruck. Well, once I put these connections together in private, I actually cried. It had been over a year since I had first embarked on this project.

--That’s quite a while, isn’t it? How was it received in the end?

In those days of labor guilds, in spite that there were some who would think heavier was best, others felt “No, lightweight is good”. And with the oil shock of the following year, with the rise of the era of energy conservation, this was a potential selling point (laughs). And see, you could put a Microman on a matchbox, and now it’s a vehicle, right? Or an ashtray can be a flying saucer. When I showed it to sales, they too were, “Yeah, that’s good”. Then, for a company evaluation meeting, we took an electroplated frying pan and put a clock inside it so just the second hand axle was exposed and affixed a Microman to it. That way each time the hand ticked, the Microman would move. This had an incredible effect. “That’s it!” they said (laughs). Not much later this would become the counter display.

(Earliest known discernable photo of Microman prototypes being displayed, via Minoru Sashida.)

--For Microman, the play mechanics were quite novel, weren’t they?

Indeed they were. I put a lot of thought into how to make the series stand out as unique. This was “Episode 2” of Microman’s creation for me (laughs). At that time, Lego blocks were becoming the next big thing, and I had bought a set for my daughter, too. However, living in an apartment housing complex back then, things turned when neighboring children from the third and fourth grade came to play. “So, this is what I got.” “I wouldn’t buy that, it’s like a baby toy.” “But aren’t you playing with it too?” “Sure, it’s fun, but we’re elementary schoolers now.” I felt that they were the target. So the block was shaved down into the form of a wing. These days, blocks come in all forms, but back then they were only in the square form of bricks. And when we manufactured Jaguar, we used 3mm joints of ABS plastic for attachments. Blocks are fun, but for babies. So you have to make it in a form that is clearly not for babies. And if you make them into a science-fiction form, it begins to become interesting. (laughs) So while the figures were ready, the release schedule was repeatedly pushed back to “It will be available when it’s ready”. (laughs) Honestly, I already had something kind of like Robotman worked out by then. But nothing like vehicles yet, on the other hand. So for that I came up with the term “Material Block”. Since the 3mm pegs seemed to break easily, I figured, okay, let’s go with 5mm. From that point onward, Takara has used the 5mm gauge for all their product’s molds ever since. When we went on to create “Steel Jeeg”, we were able to incorporate the 5mm parts with magnets, too. So you could say that 5mm interchangeability started out as the basis for playing with Microman.

--That was profound, wasn’t it? It even became a hit abroad.

At first, when the president and department manager went to try to sell it in America, their efforts failed. Around then, a certain agent in California asked for “a percentage of the royalties if successful”. A half-year later, it became an explosive hit in Japan. When that happened, the company “Mego” was approached. When we showed them, they were interested and agreed. Then it became a huge hit there and his share turned into hundreds of millions. (laughs) When I visited his home after that, even though it was still back in the day, he had a giant projection TV, a home theater. A pool, too. Yet I was still some kind of salaryman. (laughs)

--Even though you’re the real father! (laughs)

The suspension that holds the hips would have broken were it not made from metal. I tooled it on a drill press and welded a hook onto it. It was fully my idea. (The book’s editor suggests comparing with a replica Microman figure release for reference here.) But I didn’t patent it. Back around the turn of the century, a similar design was filed to make wooden artist’s mannequins, so it wouldn’t have passed.

If the owner of that patent challenged us, even if they were wrong, it would have ended everything. But even today, GI Joe is using the same structure as Microman. Yet I was the one who designed it…

--By the way, how did it become called Microman?

It was originally codenamed internally as Microman --it was micro-sized, thus Microman—but it became the brand name in the end. The same for Acroyear which was “’akudoi yarou’ (‘vicious brute’), so we went with “Akuroiya”, or such (laughs).

--Was the story yours, too?

Yes. To sell them individually, we wanted to present them in a clear box. And, I started to think about how we could make the clear box itself a desirable feature. So I had read and researched a lot of science fiction by that point. I didn’t really agree with the theory of evolution. My own fancy was that living things could spontaneously change overnight. I hadn’t seen any fossils of transitional forms. So, I came up with the idea that the alpha H7 gas drifting in the galaxy would cause evolutionary change whenever it came into contact with life, and when MicroEarth exploded, it had a different effect by chance. Back then, there was the notion that Atlantis used crystal energy which I found interesting. Crystals that return the same frequency when exposed to electromagnetic waves. So the setting was created by combining these ideas. That’s what I recorded to a mini-cassette when it hit me in the middle of the night. (laughs) I contacted Design Mate, and gave it as the pitch. Suguwara from Design Mate (see page 80 [of this book]) then edited it and it turned out quite good. I spent a couple extra hours that night on the telephone. “Am I ever going home?” I thought (laughs). I’m sure I was annoying them too (laughs).

--I would imagine you always carried a Microman with you?

I always did. I made a ring for myself, you see. I placed the head of a Microman inside clear acrylic. I really wore it. However, as I gained weight, I had to shave out the center over time. (laughs) It was a lot of trouble to keep shaving down that acrylic.

--Still, it seems like you could put that on the market, now.

You think so? I guess I’ll take it to Takara and find out (laughs). But lately Microman has been getting a good reception from a lot of respectable folks these days, hasn’t it? However, I had gotten rid of most of mine. Such a waste, isn’t it? When it came about, I was “Ah, so that’s how it goes, huh?” (laughs) But, seeing the resurgence in popularity has been fun, you know? Seeing everyone joining in and putting them up on their home pages and such. Sometimes I wonder if I should drop in and introduce myself. (laughs) Ah, well…

--What kind of work are you doing next?

As a person who lived in the toy industry, you could say I wish to make a new “toy launch”. Without an anime launch, a toy that is a hit, becomes a game, then becomes an anime. Right now, I’m planning toward that goal. I’m about 60% there. This is a toy’s true essence! –is what I want to be able to express. That would be something like a new Microman for me. So now, I’m really fired up! (laughs) What’s it about? ….that’s a secret (laughs).

Iwakichi Ogawa, born August 24, 1942 in Fukushima Prefecture Former head of boy’s product development division at Takara. Current President and Representative Director of toy development company Russell, Ltd.

#microman #micronauts #pre-micronauts #pre-transformers #takara sf land #ミクロマン

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