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countdown-to-ghost-trick · 11 months

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Here's the result of today's stream! This color wheel features 16 characters total, in order:

Sissel

Ray

Memry

Missile

Lynne

Jowd

Beauty

Jeego

Dandy

General Sith

Cabanela

Pigeon Man (+ Lovey-Dove)

Kamila

Cat

Emma

Amelie

#ghost trick phantom detective #ghost trick: phantom detective #ghost trick #sissel ghost trick #ray ghost trick #memry ghost trick #missile ghost trick #lynne ghost trick #detective jowd #beauty ghost trick #jeego ghost trick #dandy ghost trick #general sith ghost trick #inspector cabanela #pigeon man ghost trick #kamila ghost trick #spoiler cat #emma ghost trick #amelie ghost trick

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vichi60 · 2 years

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She might sense you…

-look who is back with their obsession again :)

#digital art #art #painting #gaming #fanart #ghost trick #sissel #beauty and dandy #original art

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fungii · 6 months

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pretty sure there's a line that debunks this theory in the game but whatever work with me here

+ bonus girls night moment

#ghost trick #ghost trick dandy #ghost trick beauty #yomielle #ghost trick spoilers #i guess??#drawings #fanart #genderbend

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kismet-cat · 1 month

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Uhhhhh fav side character?

oooh, that's tricky. honestly, the first answer that comes to me is detective rindge. something about his visual design, as basic as it is, hits a sweet spot in my brain. and the scene he has with lynne in the chicken kitchen is genuinely sweet. he's a good guy! trying his best!

potential alternate answer a): pigeon man, primarily for how he adds to the group banter in chapter 15. also for having the balls to look at the undead guy with telekinesis who just said he's going to kill you and straight-up say "why not let me live, bitch?"

potential alternate answer b): amelie. she's fun :)

i also really enjoy bailey and his partner as a comedic pair, as well as the pair of beauty and dandy, but answering with a pair feels like cheating.

#ghost trick #ghost trick phantom detective #ghost trick spoilers #ask time!#rindge #pigeon man #amelie #bailey and friend #beauty #dandy #feel like i should add that i appreciate emma as being one of two (2) multilayered women in this game. she's just not a personal fave #it's about the vibes. ya know?

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shrimper · 2 months

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PLS TALK ABOUT DUNMESHI GHOST TRICK AU!!!

YAAAY WELL!! IF YOU INSIST!!

so briefly to discuss the main roles. chilchuck is yomiel, izutsumi is sissel, laois is lynne, falin is the equivalent of kamilla and marcille takes on the role of missile ! (thus, marcille is also ray, && i’ll elaborate on this later)

the plot is similar to ghost trick!! (…kinda) (not really)

brief plot overview!! it happens in a similar enough universe to ghost trick, but the races from dungeon meshi pass over . i don’t think there will be a dungeon but don’t quote me on that one

but Anyway um. yeah chilchuck got divorced by his wife and it was BAD his wife took the house took the kids he was SO fucked. he dropped out of his job (which was…ummm. engineering maybe, if not rogue ?) and entered a spiral of depression > drink to feel better > hangover > depression. he was quickly gaining an addiction . LUCKILY FOR HIM he had a bit more sense than his dunmeshi counterpart — enough to recognise that his reliance on alcohol was a Bad Thing — so, in order to Recover (or at least replace it with something) he adopted a cat ‼️ he named her izutsumi and they became best friends, especially since it was likely chilchuck wasn’t going to live much longer after she died (half foot lifespans)

a few months into this he was falsely accused of armed robbery . he already had a pretty bad reputation around the area for being somewhat of a lousy guy, so he was taken into questioning and then. yeah whatever happened with yomiel 👍 temsik meteor, holding lynne (or in this case laios) hostage, etc etc

you know how this goes . chilchuck got revenge on the officers who cornered him && now senshi is in prsion . yeag . he (senshi) had two wards under his care, who were laios and falin. they all also shared an apartment with falins VERY close friend marcille who was very intelligent but not wise at all !

the first loop happens, and marcille got stuck there but sticks with it in the hopes of saving falin (…why? what happened to falin. can anyone hear me the number of plot holes in my own au are astounding). she eventually took the form of a log with a small sprout at the end of it (a reference to her staff) . she calls herself ‘bud’ !

you know the rest. izutsumi wakes up, sees chilchucks body & assumes it is hers and continues on without knowing how to read. etc etc .

“what about the characters you haven’t mentioned?” i’m working on it 😭!! i’m thinking senshi is jowd, Maybe (if not obvious by the story overview). kiki is inspector cabanela, maybe, and namari and kaka are her Right Hand Detectives(TM) with varying amounts of respect for her (playful sibling rivalry vs. kikimari perhaps?), but that does leave the issue of ‘why does senshi know kiki???? hwhuh’. shirou is the justice minister, maybe??? inutade is also here in the form of a dobermann i think. somewhere . inutade izutsumi best friends every universe

#gt/dm #shrimper chatter #it’s not fully fleshed out yet so if you have ideas i’d be more than happy to hear them 👀#i’m unsure whether to lean into the gt-ness or dm-ness but ah i will manage !!!#also in this one izutsumi is Full Cat #—ish #AND there are so many plot holes slams my fists into the ground. is it clear i haven’t thought this through #my original plan was to make senshi have been falsely accused of murder. and he confessed and was slapped in prison #and chilchuck would have did what Yomiel Did for revenge / as a form of protest. and shit. bcoz he knew senshi was innocent #but that fell flat for one reason and one reason only: WHO IS SENSHI MEANT TOKILL????#that dwarf guy he foiught with?!?!?! IDK #still i do think my previous idea is better because it makes chilchuck seem much more sympathetic…idk idk #anyway as for falin… she’s kidnapped by whoever beauty & dandy are right? something happens maybe . hmm #maybe she was killed by the rock the first time ?#ghost trick spoilers #loveandfrogman

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simplych4i · 4 months

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I'm so sad there's like maybe less than 10 Dandy fanarts here. Where's my BOY

I could ramble about him so much tbh. Treating him like a spamton plushie. Soak him in milk and throw him against a wall. I fucking love this man.

#ghost trick dandy #dandy #ghost trick

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creativepup · 4 months

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Ghost Trick x Transistor crossover AU

spoilers + details below

Maybe you're looking for someone to blame Fighting for air while you circle the drain

Lynne is still an intrepid detective on the heels of a major case - until she's framed for the murder of Sissel. Sissel is now a digital ghost trapped within the Transistor. Together the two strangers must work together to undo the string of murders occuring across town and find out what's going on until it's too late.

Ray is possessing one of the OVC terminals at the beginning of the game, and guides you to the sandbox rooms.

Sissel can still reverse time (or at least watch replays). The [now digital] assassins replace the Process types (eg. Jeegos, Beauties, Dandies...). Each resident ghost you encounter unlocks a new 'trick' type in the Transistor.

Missile joins you for some segments of your travels.

Yomiel was originally the lead engineer on the Transistor project, and is now using the assassins as part of a revenge plot on the city.

Cabanela and Jowd are part of the elite team investigating the secret "digital manipulator", although they don't realize they've been infiltrated from the inside... They are also tracking down Lynne.

The confrontation at the Empty Set is with possessed Kamilla (and actually the first confrontation with Yomiel).

The confrontations with Cabanela and Jowd mirror Chapter 15.

Yomiel has been spying on Cabanela and the team via the body of Sissel-the-cat.

The park is Transistor Park.

That's as much as I've thought out so far: would love to hear if anyone has additions to add on! There's so many fun parallels between these two games.

(Also have thoughts on the Transistor characters in the Ghost Trick universe, but that one still needs a bit more fleshing out.)

#transistor #ghost trick #ghost trick spoilers #transistor spoilers #don't mind the low edit quality #crossover au #this has been consuming my mind for days

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cuckoo-on-a-string · 5 months

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Persephone's Devotee (Hello, Mr. Monster AU, I)

Master List

Summary: In the age of Spiritualists and magicians, wyrds winds in different ways to link Dream of the Endless and Aisling Hunt. AU of Hello, Mr. Monster beginning in the 1920s. (Alternatively titled 'We All Hate Roderick Burgess')

Warnings: Implied child abuse/neglect, child left to travel solo, manipulating children for profit (non-sexual trafficking)

A/N: Your bird just got diagnosed with a life changing chronic condition (in addition to being put back on depression meds). We'll see how this post does. Have four chapters planned. The last scene is based on personal experiences with heat exhaustion/borderline heat stroke.

Dream’s tools brought many things to Fawney Rig. Wealth and prestige. Admiration, gifts, and influence. Nearly everything the magus wanted and only a fraction of what he thought he deserved. Roderick’s dreams of power and riches drew another tool to his hand, or perhaps Destiny drew the magus to her. The girl who saw strange things in the dark and found answers to strange riddles in her cards. But her wyrd would always draw her to old house and its shrouded dungeon, in any world or time. All because of what the Burgesses kept there.

In the eight years since the fateful evening he summoned and caught one of the Endless, Roderick had become a man much desired. He found himself with an invitation to Lord and Lady Werthrope’s party, a guest of honor at a soiree at their country estate. They promised a night of occult mysteries and foreign prizes. Bits of people and places from across the empire and beyond. Mummies from Egypt and fragments of Greek antiquities to gasp and shriek over with glasses of champagne and brandy.

Roderick carried himself as Lord Werthrope’s equal, and at least for that night, surrounded by ancient mysteries of all kinds, he was seen as such. He was an expert, a guide, someone to hold in reverence rather than an oddity to gawk over. He told them with his bearing, his dignity, and the ruby he wore on a golden chain around his neck. His wishes became dreams and so became real. He stood like a stronger god beside the broken figure of Apollo and scoffed at the mistranslations of texts he’d only ever read secondhand.

Beside the wonders kept under guard at home, what were these paltry things? He could have any of them he desired, and he’d already claimed better.

His sense of superiority carried him through the party’s early hours, moving from acrobats in elaborate costumes, to fire eaters, to ghost stories and flights of fancy spun by swindlers far below his consideration. He had an answer or alternative for everything. And then he met the girl.

She sat at a bare table with no long cloth to hide rolling ankles, clever fishing lines, or knocking accomplices. Only a candle and a deck of cards separated her from the guests, and she’d drawn quite a queue. Her feet didn’t even reach the floor, swinging idly between the legs of the chair as she read the cards of a distraught-looking dandy.

Taking his arm, Lady Werthrope said, “This one you really must see, Magus. She’s made quite the splash in New York and London.”

The Magus offered a tolerant smile. “And what is the trick? Does she blow out the candle? Bend spoons?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that.” The lady practically vibrated, eager to impress as she led them to the table, scattering the line. “She sees things, and she reads fortunes like no one I’ve ever seen, and I’ve had more than a few pet psychics in my time. This one’s a bit of a sad story.”

The magus clenched his jaw until the muscle in his cheek twitched. He could make whatever sob story the girl shilled much worse. Of all the frauds and liars who feigned knowledge of the occult, Roderick Burgess hated mediums and ghost whisperers the most. The tantalizing promise of connection with Randal – always waved in his face, always ultimately denied – it clawed open the rotting wound in his heart, and he let the poison drip back on any fools who tried his patience.

Let this one try to pull the wool over his eyes, and he’d unmask her in front of this glittering audience. She’d be a penniless sad story when he was through.

“Those people,” the lady said, nodding to a couple flanking the child, “are just the adoptive parents. Saw her family murdered, poor thing. They say that’s what cracked her open to the other world.”

“Do they indeed.” He kept his smile, showing his teeth as his grip flexed over the cane in his free hand. “Then I look forward to her performance.”

The Magus and the lady sat across from the faux family, and the girl looked at them. The people who weren’t her parents did not manage her well, Burgess couldn’t help noting. They’d painted her up with rogue and kohl that made her look even more like a child playing grownup games, and the feather in her headband hung limp and lifeless. She barely managed to grimace through a smile, and she spoke with all the enthusiasm of a student reporting on Ovid to the class.

“What are you asking?” A child’s voice really shouldn’t be so dull. Now that he was nearer, the Magus couldn’t help wondering if she was even younger than he’d first assumed. Not even ten, he thought, and already so exhausted.

It wasn’t what he’d expected. He kept his guard, but curiosity stirred beneath. She was no great performer.

Lady Werthrope leaned forward, eager to take the first reading as the girl shuffled her cards. They were nearly too big for her to manage, but in this at least she clearly had much practice. Her handling of the tarot was the most natural element of her demeanor he’d yet to see.

The lady talked about her dog Moxy, a cocker spaniel much loved and terribly spoiled. It was getting on in years, and, well, ought she prepare for anything dreadful? Only, her friend had just lost her terrier, and she couldn’t chase it from her thoughts…

The cards appeared on the table. One by one. The Six of Cups. The Two of Swords. And, lastly, the Nine of Swords reversed.

“Moxy is well-loved.” The child pointed to the first card. “That’s the foundation. But she’s getting older, and she may go blind eventually. She’s accepted it, though, and you will, too.” She smiled a little, hesitantly, like a pet used to getting kicked when she barked at company. The Magus noted how her gaze flicked to her pseudo-father.

Lady Werthrope clucked and reached over to squeeze the child’s hand. “You’re very honest. And very sweet. Now, won’t you show the Magus what you can do?”

Obediently, she gathered the cards and folded the deck, shuffling them with the fresh energy of her next customer. “What do you want to know?”

Roderick considered. It was a little below him to ask anything specific of a child spiritualist, and he still meant to test her. Hate stirred the old thorn in his heart, and although she didn’t speak with ghosts to earn her bread, he didn’t need to justify himself.

“I’ll leave the question to you.” He squinted in a way that may seem affectionate, but it was only sharp, a predator focusing on little fawn to see how quickly it might run. “What do you see?”

She flinched, lifting her eyes from the cards to meet his in a fleeting, startled glance. Like he’d come near to guessing something she didn’t say out loud. But then she bent over the deck, back to her work as the woman behind her set a hand on her shoulder.

“Be good, Aisling,” the adoptive mother said. “Show the Magus your skills. Don’t embarrass us.”

The child rolled her lip between her teeth, sorting the task quickly. One card. Two cards. Three cards. Tap, tap, tap on the bare table. The Magician’s face glowed in the candle light, and Roderick blinked. A good tarot reader must have good luck in order to draw the appropriate cards – or a marked deck. But he’d watched those little hands like a hawk, and he’d seen nothing. It wasn’t definitive proof by any means, but Roderick Burgess knew himself to be cleverer than a child.

Pointing to the first card, the Magician, the girl said, “You’re the Magus. The Magician is your creation of yourself.” The second card was the Nine of Cups. “Your cups all overflow, and you enjoy the plenty you already have.” And then there was the Ace of Pentacles. Roderick wondered for a moment if she’d laid the cards out of the intended order, but she simply said, “There is new wealth coming. You’ve just found something that will bring you more good fortune. The benefits will grow in the months and years to come.”

“You’re very sure of yourself.” He looked for cracks, and there were many. Fatigue clouded her eyes and weighted the end of every sentence. Not a sign of a lie, though. She couldn’t even pretend to be happy for the audience.

He turned the interaction over in his mind through the rest of the night, wearing away the questions and presumptions like the rough edges of a stone, and by the later hours, he thought he might hold a jewel.

The adoptive parents made themselves easy to find. They hadn’t left the table. Neither had the girl. The lord and lady hired them to entertain, and they stayed at their posts. They’d gathered refreshments, but no cup or plate sat on the table, and he wondered if they had any idea children needed things like water after a long night of speaking with strangers.

Really. The scheme was too transparent. The only lies hid in any manner of affection the parents pretended for the child they claimed.

The Magus marched up to the table, rapping the top with his cane to seize the drowsy girl’s attention. She blinked, started licking her dry lips, caught herself, and pinched her mouth closed with her teeth.

“Aisling, wasn’t it?” He nodded to her, encouraging her to echo the motion. “I would like a word with you. No cards. No reading. Just a conversation. Alone.”

The father stepped forward, ready to defend his meal ticket. “Sir, I’m afraid we can’t just –”

“The girl and I will sit here, at this table,” he tapped it again to make his point, “and you will both stand over there.” The cane swung to point towards the bar, which was well within sight but well out of earshot.

When the man moved to protest again, Roderick pulled out his wallet, and the father’s mouth snapped shut. A few pounds bought the adults’ willing compliance, and they went off in search of drinks with barely a backwards glance. Roderick settled into the seat he claimed earlier, watching the girl squirm. Her hands fluttered restlessly between her lap and the table, clearly used to the cards, uneasy without the form and ritual of a reading to guide the conversation.

That was well enough. Roderick had his own plans.

He signaled one of the roving staff, and as the waiter approached, he ordered, “A lemonade for the young lady.”

With a bow, the server hurried off, and the Magus smiled, lips closed, tilting his head as his legs crossed under the table. He was not a client. He was an adult who noticed, who might be moved to care, and in the few hours of their acquaintance, he was already offering more than anyone else.

“So, you see things?”

Her eyes snapped from him to the people who managed her. Then back again, and down to her lap.

“I’m not supposed to upset people.” She picked at the fringe on the garish frock she wore – entirely unsuited to her age and clearly uncomfortable. “It upsets Mr. and Mrs. Foster when I see things. Or when I talk about them.”

The Magus nodded, unsurprised. He wondered if the people who adopted her even realized her talents were genuine when they snatched her up. They had too many connections and too much showmanship to be anything other than experienced con artists. This little Aisling must be very sensitive, and the truly sensitive didn’t see strictly good, kind, or encouraging things. How she must terrify the fools.

The server returned with a cut crystal glass rattling with ice. The girl thanked the server, then thanked her benefactor, and wrapped her hands around the condensation-slicked sides. She sipped carefully, and Roderick could see the tension ease from her posture as she drank. Desperate as she was, she didn’t gulp, and with clear regret, she set the drink on the table still two-thirds full. But she kept her hands on the glass, lest some waiter assume she was finished and spirit it away.

“I won’t be upset, and I’d like to believe you.” Angling his head down to peer at her meaningfully, employing a look he’d once used when his son misbehaved, he asked, “What have you seen tonight that would upset people?”

The girl looked around, shifting so her chair creaked. This time, it wasn’t her adoptive parents she feared. Any ears may be a threat. When she leaned in, the Magus copied her, silently assuring her the secret would be safe with him.

“There’s a guest who’s not a guest, and he isn’t a man, either.”

The Magus hummed. “Say I believe you. Could you prove it?”

Seduced into the invitation of an adult confidant, and revived by the lemonade, she rushed to answer. She wanted to prove herself. She wanted to be believed and heard. The Magus was listening, and he was beginning to believe as well.

“The man paid the footman with holly leaves,” she hissed in a loud whisper. “The footman folded them like bank notes, and the spines stabbed his palms, but he didn’t notice. Look for the one with blood on his gloves.”

“And the man who isn’t a man?”

Shrinking back, the girl shook her head until the headband went crooked. Her hand pressed over her heart, rubbing hard circles as her face creased.

“He’d know I saw him,” she said. “I don’t let them know I see them anymore.”

Now there was a tale and no mistake. A child with enough power to annoy things beyond the veil – one that survived an encounter – was rare indeed.

“What happened?” He lent his tone a shade of concern. Facts, he found, traveled swiftest to a sympathetic ear, and he needed to know everything. Curiosity was growing into practical fervor as the first dreams of a plan grew into place. “Are you ill?”

She crumbled just a little bit more, folding into herself to protect the place she rubbed from some invisible threat. “Sometimes I see things that don’t want to be seen. One of them – hurt me. There’s no scar, but it hurt me, and now it aches.”

The Magus donned a solemn expression, though he felt a thrill at the prospect sitting before him. The little girl had unusual skills, and though she wasn’t handled well by the adults governing her, they must still turn a pretty penny showing her in salons and private homes. He’d confirm what she’d said, of course, validate her little proof, but she was either a better liar than he’d ever met or she was childishly honest. He knew where he’d put his money.

Where he might very well invest it, actually.

He didn’t say goodbye, only nodding as he rose and went in search of the servant with bloody gloves.

Of course, he found him. When he demanded to see what the footman had in his pockets, the boy paled, stammering excuses, only to pull out a handful of forest detritus. As the young man fell into a whirl of confusion and disappointment, the Magus truly smiled. The first real smile since Lady Werthrope brought him to the child’s table.

He must have a proper conversation with the girl’s current guardians.

Aisling clung to her bag, drowning in the heat as the train pulled away from the Wych Cross platform. Men and women fanned themselves with hats and newspapers, desperate for a breeze in the dead summer stillness. Ladies shed their gloves. Men loosened their ties. Propriety mattered less when the air was trying to suffocate them, a crushing, inescapable oven scalding the usually damp countryside.

A miserable day to travel.

Sweat dripped down her back, soaking the neck of her dress, gluing her hair to her skin. But she didn’t have a free hand to stir a breeze. Her bag was too heavy, full of everything she would need in her new home, or at least everything the Fosters thought they couldn’t sell for a profit. Mrs. Foster took her to the train station and dropped her at the door.

“Here’s your ticket. You’re heading to Wych Cross, and then to Fawney Rig. Don’t forget, and don’t miss your train,” she’d said. Then she climbed back into the cab beside Mr. Foster and disappeared into the flow of London traffic.

They’d sold her on to someone else, and now they were free of her.

She peered around the station, but it was really just a platform. In London, there were helpful adults in uniforms and suits who pointed out the right train and the right stairs to reach it. Nothing here told her how to find Fawney Rig, though, and the only adult in a uniform seemed to be the man in the ticket booth.

She’d find her way. She wasn’t a baby after all. She was eight. And she could read very well, and no one was coming to help her, so she better figure it out.

She stood in line for the ticket man’s attention. Surely, he could give her directions. The Magus was rich, and a little famous, she thought, so his neighbors must know where he lived. If the man in the booth didn’t know, she’d keep asking until she found someone who did. While she waited her turn, she set down her suitcase and sat on it, taking deep breaths that tasted like salt. It could be worse. What if it rained instead? Well. Actually. Rain sounded very nice.

Soon enough, she took her place in front of the booth, and the man frowned under his mustache like she’d arrived with a bill or a letter from someone nasty. She smiled prettily, the way the Fosters told her to, and tried to make herself look like less of a problem as she clutched her case again.

“Excuse me,” she said, “but do you know the way to Fawney Rig?”

He physically recoiled, and his frown hooked deeper with glowering doubt as he scanned her. “Fawney Rig? That devil worshiper’s house? Why do you want to know?”

“I’ve been sent to live there, sir. I’m expected, but I don’t think they’ve sent anyone for me.” Manners made things easier with adults. Good manners and clear words – the fewer the better.

But the man wasn’t swayed. He looked thunderous. Like she’d broken something valuable and ought to pay for it with a lashing.

“Do you have money for a cab?”

The Fosters didn’t own her anymore, and they’d given her nothing but cards, and costumes, and a hairbrush. All the cash stayed warm and safe in their pockets.

“No, sir.”

“Then walk down the main road. Go east from the village, and keep going until there are no more houses you can see from the street. There’ll be a path on the left with a big iron gate. Follow that and you’ll find your devil worshipers.” He waved her off like he’d slap her if not for the glass. “Next!”

Manners got her what she needed, at least. “Thank you.”

The other adults all moved aside as she trundled through with her case. It made it easier to avoid clipping ankles and shins with her luggage, but she wondered if they hated her the way the ticket man hated her – because of Fawney Rig – or if she simply smelled after the long, stuffy ride in third class. Not that adults needed an excuse to dislike her. The nice ones called her uncanny and gifted. The mean ones called her a witch, and a bastard devil-spawn, and other names a mother should wash out of their mouths with soap.

She wasn’t sure which ones were telling the truth.

She knew the way forward, though. To Fawney Rig. That was good, even if the other adults didn’t think so. The Magus may not be a nice person, she hadn’t known him long enough for the usual adult lies to wear thin enough to see through, but he was smarter than the Fosters, and he’d given her a lemonade, so maybe she wouldn’t be as hungry or thirsty under his guardianship. She’d still have to work. Adults only wanted her if they thought she could give them something. But everything was more bearable with a good dinner and cold drinks.

She hoped he’d give her another cold drink, even water with some ice, when she reached his home. The train ride left her terribly thirsty.

Leaving the shaded platform, she bowed away from the sun’s violent touch and started on her journey. The village only kept a cobbled road in the center of town. It led up to the train station, linking it to a clutch of shops and offices. A parish church sat a little way back from the road, separated from the secular world by a field of tidy tombstones in heat-bleached grass. People noticed her. They looked. They whispered to each other. But no one waved or offered a hand. Gossip didn’t move fast enough to beat her here from the train, and she wondered how people could tell she was odd. Society had so many rules beyond manners, but no one would tell her what they were, and she never guessed right.

By the time the cobblestones ended, she was struggling to hold onto her suitcase. The handle kept trying to slip from her fingers, even when she held it with both hands, and she had to work harder and harder to keep it out of the dirt. If she knew anything about the world, it was that good children didn’t drag their luggage, and bad things happened to those that did. She’d travelled enough to learn, and she wanted to make a good impression on her new keeper and his household.

The road outside of town went a very, very long way. The ticket seller’s instructions made each step sound the same length: go through town, pass the houses, go down the long drive past the gates. Her imagination had lied to her, though. Every time she thought she’d passed the last house, there came another. Each handed her down the chain of cottage gardens and small homes full of families who pretended not to see. They all knew she’d done something, like she had a brand on her forehead, and she wasn’t allowed to stop. She didn’t try to.

Everything looked sickly yellow in the midday glare. Dust hung in the air, stirred by passing cars, lingering without a breath of wind to dispel the choking clouds. Everything looked flat and dead, so much so she almost missed the gate. Another leg of her trek done. Still too far to go, and the private road leading to the Magus’ home was longer than it had any right to be.

She didn’t feel well. The trees gave her a little protection, but her stomach and lungs felt hard, strained, the way her arms ached with carrying her suitcase. Only they were parts that shouldn’t feel that way, and she thought maybe she should sit down.

But she was almost there.

Even if she walked slowly, and her feet didn’t land quite where she told them to.

She just wouldn’t think about those things. Complaining was just making excuses, and she was expected.

The house appeared out of nowhere, or she was too dizzy to see it through the leaves before the last turn in the drive. It loomed, a very final-looking destination, and her suitcase escaped her grasp. The case was slippery, and her fingers didn’t curl the way they should. She bent to pick it up, and when she straightened, the whole world spun.

She stood very still until it stopped, and she found herself shivering as she approached the front door. Very strange. Was she afraid? No. That didn’t sound right. She felt terrible, too terrible to worry, and none of it made sense.

But she’d nearly made it. She had made it. Almost.

Knocking summoned a young man, and the door creaked open as he glanced down with a quizzical expression. “Hello? Can I help you?”

She tried holding her suitcase with just one hand, but it slipped away again, barely missing her foot. Maybe a handshake was a bad idea. The stranger hadn’t held his hand out for a shake, after all. She was just confused. He might not want to touch her. And she must look a picture after her walk.

She should’ve done something differently. If she were smarter, or taller, or…

“I’m Aisling Hunt, sir. The Magus sent for me.”

“Oh.” The young man’s eyes popped wider, and she wondered if he was younger than she thought at first. Stepping back, he pulled open the door to usher her inside. “I’m sorry. I’d heard someone was coming, but I’d thought you’d be… well, older. And I’m just Alex.”

“Nice to meet you, Alex. I’m Aisling.”

He nodded and plucked her bag from where she’d dropped it. “Yes. You said. Are you feeling alright?”

She didn’t know. And grownups didn’t really like it when she was unwell anyway. Before she could come up with a suitable lie that would get her what she needed without stepping on any toes, a familiar face appeared at the end of the hall.

“Ah! You made it.” Out of formal dress, the Magus still brimmed with authority. Aisling had met many adults who wore costumes and pretended to be something they weren’t, but the Magus seemed like he’d somehow stitched his chosen persona into his skin. “Welcome to Fawney Rig.”

She wobbled. “Thank you, sir.”

“Magus,” he corrected.

“Thank you, Magus, sir.”

At last, what he was seeing overshadowed his enthusiasm, and the old man frowned. “Did you walk here? From the station?”

“Yes, Magus.”

“The Fosters didn’t even give you money for a fucking cab?”

“Just the train ticket, sir. Magus.”

She blinked, and the whole room turned blue, like peering at the world through stained glass. It looked so pretty she didn’t realize the Magus was asking her another question until his hand settled on her shoulder.

His voice came from far away. “Can you hear me?”

Yes, she wanted to say. Yes, Magus, I walked, and I found Fawney Rig all on my own, and I’m not useless, please don’t throw me away yet.

But everything looked cool, and blue, and lovely. She was floating in it. Floating and so awfully heavy at the same time. The color slipped in with her breath, eroding her control until it slipped from her grasp like the suitcase had.

The world went dark, and she didn’t see, hear, or say anything more.

And deep below, in the belly of the house, Dream of the Endless waited in his cage, as senseless to the world above as she.

#morpheus x reader #fic: persephone's devotee #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x oc #dream of the endless x oc #fic: hello mr. monster

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bunnannie · 6 months

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Been trying to figure out characters for my Xenoblade Chronicles 3 and Ghost Trick crossover, but I have hit a snag. I know who some of them will be, but I can’t quite figure out others.

Also, I haven’t fully completed Xenoblade 3 yet because of school and work, so I’m not fully caught up yet.

‼️SPOILER WARNING‼️

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR XC3 AND GHOST TRICK

Cast List as of right now:

Sissel/Yomiel—Mio/Noah

Lynn—Sena (I think she would be a good fit)

Missile—Lanz (I turned him into a dog!!/Who else could fill the role?)

Jowd—Triton

Cabanela—Teach

Justice Minister—Isurd

Kamila—Fiona (Purple hair)

Alma—Ethel(?) (Not actually sure yet)

Guardian of the Park— (Unkown)

Detective Rindge— (Unknown)

The Green Detective— (Unknown)

The Blue Detective— (Unknown)

Woman in Purple/Emma— (Unknown)

Amelie— (Unknown)

Pigeon Man—Taion (Don’t worry, he’s not old here!! Also instead of his pigeon, he’d have Mondo :3)

Chicken Kitchen Chef—Manana (She’d be standing on top of something to reach the stove)

Typical Cops—Random people from any colony

Officer Bailey— (Unknown)

Officer Bailey’s “Friend”— (Unkown)

Rock Jailbird— (Unkown)

Curry-Loving Jailbird— (Unknown)

Special Investigation Unit Chief— (Unknown)

Memry— (Unknown)

Bartender—Riku

Minor Crew Hand— (Unknown)

Dandy— (Unknown)

Beauty—X

Odd Blue Doctor— (Unknown)

Nearsighted Jeego— (Unknown)

One Step Ahead Tengo— (Unkown)

Commander Sith—Z

Masked Muscleman—Y

If anyone has any ideas or suggestions as to who will play who, please put it in the tags or something. I wanted to do this because I love both games very much and see similarities in the characters.

I have also been working on the sprites for some characters, which should be done at some point. I’ll post those when they’re finished so you can see the concept.

#ghost trick #ghost trick phantom detective #xenoblade #xenoblade chronicles #xenoblade chronicles 3 #crossover #PLEASE HELP IM TIRED!!

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alto-tenure · 11 months

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Ghost Trick Timeline (game timeline / pre-reset)

EVENTS PRE-NIGHT:

5:26 PM, approximately 10 years ago: Yomiel takes Lynne hostage at the park.

5:30 PM: Yomiel dies after being struck by the Temsik meteorite.

Approximately 5 years ago: Alma's birthday; Yomiel kills her using Kamila’s contraption; Jowd turns himself in for her murder.

THE NIGHT (Justice Minister’s birthday!):

Shortly before 7:01 PM: Sissel and Yomiel are shot.

7:05 PM: Lynne’s first death.

7:37 PM: Missile's first death.

Somewhere between 7:40 PM and 8:04 PM: Lynne calls Kamila and tells Kamila to report to the Chicken Kitchen with the evidence box, which Sissel helps her find.

Approx. 8:04 PM: The Justice Minister calls Emma.

Approx. 8:10 PM: The Justice Minister calls Emma. Again. This time Sissel is there to eavesdrop.

8:22 PM: Lynne dies for the second time.

Sometime between 8:04 PM and 8:29 PM: Missile manages to escape the apartment and get to Temsik Park, and is subsequently run over by Dandy.

8:29 PM: The Park Guardian dies; Kamila gets kidnapped.

8:48 PM: Lynne dies for the third time.

Between 8:50 PM and 10:05 PM: Sissel investigates the special prison & finds out that Lynne (possessed by Yomiel) shot him.

10:03 PM: Rindge dies.

10:04 PM: Lynne dies for the fourth time.

10:59 PM: Jowd dies for the first time.

11:00-11:41 PM: Sissel aids Jowd in his escape from prison, and Cabanela and Jowd have a confrontation. Sissel travels to the Justice Minister’s office.

11:35 PM: The Justice Minister dies.

12:10 AM: Sissel gets to Kamila+Jowd+Alma's former residence to retrieve Kamila.

Approx. 12:30 AM: Jowd and Cabanela arrive at the Justice Minister’s office.

Sometime between 12:30 AM and 1:28 AM: Lynne arrives at Temsik Park. Sissel follows.

Sometime between 1:30 AM and 2:55 AM: Cabanela returns to Pigeon Man's office. Lynne returns to the Justice Minister’s office with the evidence box. Jowd is let go.

2:46 AM: Pigeon Man dies.

2:50 AM: Cabanela (possessed by Yomiel) calls the Justice Minister’s office.

2:54 AM: Cabanela dies.

2:55 AM: The Yonoa disconnects from the communication cables.

Sometime between 3 AM and 4:19 AM: Jowd and Lynne arrive at the super's office. The two then leave in pursuit of Yomiel. Yomiel flees on a boat to the Yonoa. Lynne and Jowd stow away after him. Jowd somehow manages to get the communication cable hooked up so Sissel can come.

4:19 AM: Sissel arrives on the Yonoa.

4:26 AM: The Yonoa control room is ejected from the submarine. All others make their escape. This is also when Lynne dies for the fifth and final time.

4:27 AM: Jowd dies for the second time.

#i believe this should be accurate but reblogs are off for now until i know for sure that i didn't screw up anything #ghost trick #ghost trick spoilers #resource #reference

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hornedadvance · 2 months

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Horned Advance

Chapter Spooky - Palo, the Ghoul

A couple years before our story begins, a younger Palo and a smaller Quinn find themselves prepping to go ‘Trick or Treating,’ a strange concept to the critter but one that Quinn assures will be fun and worthwhile. Quinn had stolen a set of bedsheets from her bed and cut out two eye holes, bringing this brand new ghost costume to her forest creature friend.

"It’s perfect! This way we can walk together and no one will suspect a thing!" She says, a wide grin spread across her round face.

"I don’t think this’s a good idea, Quinn…" Mutters an ever cautious Palo, with a look of resignation on her face. She’d tried many times to sneak into normal human cultures in her yesteryears, being stung every time she did.

"Bah! Quiet you. We’ll be dandy.." Quinn snaps back. ‘You could get away with no sheet at all this time of year… But this way we’re being extra safe, just how you like it alright? So I’ll be having none of that from you.’ She lectures Palo in the same way you would lecture a cat, jokingly scolding her for her party-pooping. "Plus, you’ve always wanted to try it right? Touring the town and getting a taste of each little home." She says, throwing the sheet over Palo’s head. Palo bears a sour frown, unable to shoot down Quinn’s jolly hopes. "We’ll head out together, we’ll load up and we’ll come back here to chow down, ok? I told my parents I’m out with the village girls, so they won’t be expecting me back any time soon." Quinn reassures. Palo keeps her cautions, but concedes to Quinn’s insistent plan, picking up a spare bucket she’d brought over from her parents house.

And so the two set out into the night, Palo leading the way through the dense woodland within which she’d been living back to Quinn’s small town of Babilia. After a couple scrapes to the sheet, leaving it with a more worn and ghastly look they arrive on the edge of town, staring down all of the houses ripe for the tricking. Or treating.

"How do I look?" Quinn asks, with her outfit now made clear by the bright lights of town. She wore a frilly white dress with feather wings far too small for her poking out from her back and a cheesy yellow halo poking up over her head, held up by a thin stick. In all honesty she looked pretty bad, the shrubbery they’d passed rubbing off on her outfit- staining it green and covering it with fabric tears. Despite this, it was clear to even one thick skulled as Palo that this meant a lot to her, so she replied, "Great! You look great." With the best not at all forced smile she could manage. A coy smile creeps across Quinn's face before she turns back to face the town.

"Let’s go, then!" She says, leading the way with a hop in her step.

The two girls knock on the first door of the night, with it swinging open to reveal an elderly woman, one Quinn seems to know.

"Trick or treat!" She says, with Palo following in a much less confident fashion.

The two girls walk away from the first house with their buckets already a good bit heavier, Quinn skipping jubilantly.

"Y’see I know all the best spots. My parents had me go on errands for them so often that I know most of the village by name… Which means I also know who has the biggest stashes!" She announces with a hint of mischief in her voice. Palo could tell from here that it would be a long night.

Hours later, the clocks nearing midnight Palo and Quinn return to the critter’s little forest den, Quinn’s legs tired from all of the prancing about town. The two empty their buckets on a stone slab Palo had been using as a table, taking in the awesome visage of their candy mound.

"It’s… It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen…!" Quinn mumbles under her breath, this time even Palo taken aback by the sheer ocean of diabetes laid out in front of her.

"Can we eat it?" The critter asks, desperate but unsure if it’s ok to do so.

"Of cour- WAIT… One moment… I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t touch anything!" Quinn says, springing out of her seat and sprinting off into the dark.

For a moment it was quiet. The night was dull, and away from the city there was no light or cheer beyond the quiet gaze of the starry night sky. Palo felt a deep sense of loneliness cut into her, as she realised she’d be once again spending a night of festivities without any family or companio-BAM! Quinn thuds back into the scene, bursting through the makeshift door Palo had put in place to conceal her woodland cave home.

"I’m back!" She proclaims, as if she hadn’t made it clear with her presence. The girl pants for air for a moment before steadying herself and sitting down next to Palo.

"You really thought I’d forget, didn’t you… That it’s your birthday!" She says, pulling out something from a little knapsack she had tied around her shoulder since leaving. She pulls out a handful of tinfoil, before unwrapping it to reveal a scruffy little chocolate cake, the icing pulling away with the foil. It looked a mess, and Palo could see the light draining from Quinn’s face as the cake essentially fell apart in her hands, but didn’t want to let the sweet gesture go to waste.

"Thank you… Thank you so much." The critter says, taking the mess of a cake from her hands.

"Ah, wait!" Quinn blurts out, pulling out a single candle and a matchbook from the sack, sticking it on top of the cake and lighting it up. "Now it’s a real birthday cake." She says, with her radiant positivity restored to her face. In this moment Palo feels the most sincere appreciation she had felt in her life up to this point, and tears begin to roll down her cheeks. Not once before now had anyone even noted her birthday, let alone celebrated it with her, and for one such as her this was too much. She places the cake down atop its foil on the table, and pulls Quinn in for a tight embrace; tears now streaming down her face in one of the few honest shows of emotions in her life. "Thanks… Quinn.. Thanks.." Was all she could manage, in the unusually shaky voice for a hardened survivor such as herself. Quinn hugged her back tightly, before turning to the cake that she’d brought over.

"You’d best start eating this… Or I’ll be done with it before you get a chance!" She taunts, reaching for the cake. Her action prompted Palo to react, snatching at the cake and gobbling half of it down before Quinn could even lay a finger on it. Palo wipes the tears from her face and genuinely smiles, not a sight you see often.

"Oh, that’s right! The candle. You need to make a wish!" Quinn says, gesturing towards the mangled corpse of the cake, the candle leaning awkwardly off the edge. "Blow it out, and make a wish in your head…"

Palo takes a moment to consider what she might wish for, mulling over her options in her head but in this moment there is only one thing she could really consider.

"I wish we can grow old together." She says, blowing out the candle.

"Gahh! You’re not supposed to say it out loud!" Quinn cries, "Now you’ve jinxed us forever!"

Palo looks at her for a moment, and Quinn looks back, before they both burst into a fit of giggles. And so they laughed the night away, the night of Palo’s first real birthday, and one that cemented the two as friends ‘til the end.

Chapter Spooky 2

Link to All Chapters

#horned advance #creative writing #original work #original fiction #ocs #original characters #writing #fantasy #writers on tumblr

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