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heartofsnark · 4 years

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This Is Love (Chapter Four): Through The Gates

Notes: We’re inching closer and closer to the Seed’s arrival, I know it’s a slow burn to the game events, but I’m enjoying building up to it and hope it will make the impact of it all just that much more meaningful.

Word Count: 9098

Chapter Warnings: Cursing, Belligerent Drunk Man, Drug Overdose, Pratt and Dahlia being dumbasses

For chapter one and the warnings about this fics overarching themes, please click here!

For the previous chapter; click here!

A tall bearded man is on her porch; leaning against the railing. The familiar snake tattoos that curl down his forearms give him away; Lonny. The Eden’s Gate member who showed at the station to give her and Whitehorse a hard time. What is he doing at her trailer? There’s no reason for him to be here.

“Can I help you?” She asks, raising an eyebrow as she steps up onto the porch.

“Just figured I’d stop by, make a friendly visit to the new deputy,” he expression is somewhere between a smile and a predator baring its teeth.

“And, how exactly did you figure out where I live?”

“Small place, loose lips, word spreads fast.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, now, if we’re done with this ‘friendly’ visit-”

“Word spreads especially fast within our congregation, when someone starts arresting our members.”

“Maybe, your congregation members shouldn’t commit crimes?”

“The law of man matters little compared to the law of god.”

“Well, I get paid to enforce the law of man, so unless god starts signing my paychecks, I’ll be sticking to that.”

“Greed isn’t a pretty sin.”

Goosebumps prickle and creep up her skin at the word sin, making her throat tight, as the word settles over her. Memories of her stepfather claw at the back of her mind, phantom pain of beatings past making her body ache, the guilt and shame of being a sinner pitting in her stomach. She digs her nails into the palms of her hands and grits her teeth.

“Yes, so greedy, as you can tell, I mean just look around, ” she gestures around the dilapidated trailer park, “the used needles a foot away from the kiddy slide cost me extra, but I think they really bring the place together.”

“Charming.”

“I do try.”

“Look, I’ll make this stupidly simple, for you,” Lonny creeps closer, nearly standing on her, glowering down at her, “don’t step on our toes and we won’t step on yours.”

“Is that so?” She grins and literally steps on Lonny’s toes, crushing her boot down as hard as she can, until he finally grunts in pain and takes a step back.

“Don’t make a problem out of yourself, deputy….” His dark eyes flicker around, until finally landing on the shed behind her trailer, “that where you keep your bike?”

“Maybe, maybe not, whats it to you?”

“You know, a little generosity goes a long way to mending relationships, deputy. That motorcycle of yours would be a nice little gift to the flock and most importantly, me.”

“Get bent.”

“It’s important that we all do our part, deputy. That everyone gives a little, so that we all can flourish. As we inch closer and closer to the brink; that becomes even more important. What’s yours is mine, so, which is more important, keeping your motorcycle or helping others?”

He’s in her space again, hand reaching out and squeezing her shoulder in a pseudo-friendly gesture; that not even almost friendly smile on his face again.

“I’d sooner watch the world rot than give up that bike. Now, get the fuck off my property.”

She shoves his hand off her shoulder and marches into her trailer; slamming the door shut behind her. Dahlia could scream, could tear apart her entire trailer in rage. Where the hell does that guy get off? Demanding her bike; the motorcycle she slaved over. Her and Lloyd rebuilt that thing from nearly scratch after his son wrecked it; left it abandoned in their shed, a muddle heap of metal left to gather dust. She helped rebuild it; just a project at the time, something to keep busy while she was waiting to see if she got accepted to the police academy, meant to stave off the anxiety. And when it was done, perfectly functional and shining like it was brand new, Lloyd told her to keep it, she deserved it.

There’s not a lot of things Dahlia’s felt she earned; feeling every success has been a fluke, a mistake, a moment of luck. But, she earned that bike. She nearly fought Lloyd’s son when he visited that holiday season; trying to reclaim the bike now that it was fixed and she refused. Lloyd sided with her; because she earned it. Because she put the work and hours into it. And she’ll be damned if she’s going to let some bearded zealot barge in and demand she give it up.

The more she learns about Eden’s Gate, the less she likes them. Stealing booze, trying to take her bike, trying to scare her. She needs a cigarette; she decides and pulls the pack from her pocket; only to find it empty. Damn it. Dahlia starts digging through tossed aside pairs of pants and jackets; she has to have a half empty pack somewhere. She grabs up her duffle bag, still mostly unpacked other than what she’s worn or used this week, rummaging through the pockets for a pack of cigarettes.

A crumpled piece of something brushes against her hand and she yanks it out; only to find a scrunched up white pamphlet. She straightens it out a bit and groans when she reads the front; Eden’s Gate, We Love You surrounding a cross like symbol. Why is this group all over everything?

Giving up on finding a cigarette somewhere in her mess; Dahlia changes into some comfy clothes and plops herself down on the couch, turning the small tv on as background noise more than anything. She finds herself fiddling with that pamphlet again, placed aside before she changed.

Dahlia opens it; if this damn group is going to haunt all her days here, she might as well read their crap. It seems to be fairly standard religious fare. Casted out? Rejected by society? Try Jesus. Take a leap of faith, wash away your sins, confess, atone, and become stronger by joining their family. There are mentions of how corrupt the world is and how it’s all going to end; nice appeals to fear mongering, always have to appreciate that approach. Every word of the dribble reminds her of darker days, of her step father and his asinine sermons. The type of people who’d probably make a PSA about how Dungeons and Dragons is satanic, Harry Potter should be burned at the stake, and Pokemon is an evil atheist agenda to push evolutionary theory on kids.

The leader; man bun guy, calls himself The Father. Those goosebumps and bad memories come back. She knows assuming that all strongly religious people are like her step-father isn’t the best practice. But mentions of sin and calling himself something regarding father, just… doesn’t help.

He calls his siblings heralds; a sister and two brothers.

Her eyes glaze over as she absorbs the same crap she's had spewed at her for years, thoughts of making a donation to planned parenthood in their name pass through her mind. She doesn’t know for certain if the group is pro-life, but one can assume. The picture on the second page of the little pamphlet catches her eye and she sputters out a laugh.

Who the hell runs the PR for this church?

First the creepy statue, then the serial killer-esque drawing on him to open their book, and now a family portrait so awkward she might cringe herself into a coma. Three men and a woman; siblings according to the text. Man bun is in a chair in the middle; not even making eye contact with the camera. The woman, Faith, the siren she’s seen at the hotel and accidentally grabbed outside the diner is on the floor beside the chair. She looks annoyed, like a teenager being dragged to an awkward family dinner. Behind them are the two brothers. One with slicked back dark hair in a coat that appears to be covered in planes; which is… a look. And the other a mountain of a human compared to his sibling; ginger hair with the sides shaved, in camouflage, holding a red rifle.

It all looks ridiculous, from their expressions to their poses. Whoever thought this was a good way to market them is the epitome of human stupidity. Dahlia crumples the little pamphlet and tosses it into the trash; thankful for a laugh to cap off her night. She spends an hour or so watching tv, drifting off to sleep on the couch as she’s done every night.. Eyelids growing heavier and heavier with each second, until black blankets her mind.

Her bladder wakes her up during the middle of the night, causing her to turn and flop around, rubbing sleep from her eyes. She stares at the ceiling contemplating if she has to pee bad enough to warrant making herself physically stand up; the effort feeling herculean in the bleary twilight hours of the night.

“What if I told you, you could be free of sin,” a male voice drifts from the tv and she groans; this shit again?

She sits up on the couch, sliding down onto the floor with the clumsiness of her sleep leaden body. On her tv, at four am, amid commercials for sexy single phone lines is an infomercial for Eden’s Gate.

One of the brothers; the one with slicked back hair in the plane coat, John Seed as the text on screen tells her. He dramatically talks about how all you have to do is say Yes, the power of Yes, walking around what looks like a red carpet covered in flowers; terraces laced with them around him, a crowd gathered around as he talks.

Is he the reason for the Hollywood style YES sign in the valley?

The crowd around him starts to chant the word yes; he’s saying ‘yes, I will be saved’, ‘yes, I will confess’, ‘yes, I will atone.’ And he gestures upwards; revealing a lit up sign of the word YES and she bursts out laughing; her stomach aching and her bladder upset with her for it. Once her laughter subsides, she does what any good decent young adult would do. She rewinds it to the start of the infomercial, grabs her phone from the table, and records the cringefest to post online before finally going to the bathroom.

She goes back to sleep after, still cracking up about this dumb religion and their dumb advertisement.

Dahlia wakes up around noon or so the next day, checking her phone while still curled up in the couch. The post of the religious cringe has gotten some traction; someone making a reaction gif out of the guy gesturing to the yes sign. Jokes about how the guy must get off on the word yes, how insane it must have felt to be working on this, ‘imagine having a grown man in a plane coat telling you to chant yes while he dramatically touches his own tit’. The internet truly is a beautiful place sometimes.

She stretches out her muscles and decides to call the clinic, the one she gave info about to Tweak. Dahlia wants to make sure he actually reached out and didn’t just use her good graces to avoid trouble and call it done.

“Hey, I’m Deputy Hale of the Hope County Sheriff’s department, I referred someone to contact your clinic about rehabilitation. I was calling to see if they contacted you.”

“Of course, could I have their name?”

“Aaron Kirby.”

“Yes, we did receive a call from Aaron Kirby, he’s been placed on our waitlist as our drug counseling services are currently at capacity and we can’t take on any more clients.”

“Understood, thank you.”

She sighs; she can’t fault him for that. Hopefully, they’ll be able to get him in soon. Dahlia stretches, making her back pop, now what to do with the rest of her day. Maybe it’s Lonny trying to take her bike or maybe it’s the mention of those Clutch Nixon stunts yesterday; but she has an itch to go riding and do some stupid shit.

A quick shower and change of clothes; then she’s grabbing her helmet.

Music reverberating in her skull, the rev of her motorcycle engine beneath her, the wind whipping around her, and she’s healed from everything if only for a moment. Dancing and riding her bike are the only things to do this for her; or maybe it’s the music itself that does. But when her blood is pumping, her ears are ringing, and her throat is raw from screaming along to the songs; nothing else matters.

She’s not lonely as she takes a sharp turn right at the chorus.

She’s not sad or pathetic as she cruises down the road, passing cars.

She’s not a disgusting sinner as she takes one of the paths that goes through the woods.

She’s not rejected, worthless, and tossed aside as she hits one of the many ramps across the county, catching air before hitting the ground again.

Everything is pure chaos and adrenaline in her veins; no room for guilt or doubt or

Deer. Big deer, in the road, it isn’t moving.

She hits the brakes; the sudden jerk of a stop, pushing her body forward, losing her grip and being ejected forward. Dahlia hits the ground in a heap, head rattling but thankfully not split on the road. She forces herself to roll over on her back, body aching in protest. Her eyes close and she takes deep breaths, trying to gather herself.

Something fuzzy pushes against her hand, glancing down to see the large deer sniffing at her. It’s no worse for wear, so that’s good at least. She forces herself to sit up, body protesting, and she peels her helmet off. The deer shuffles back a little but when she extends a hand it tentatively presses against it. She scratches its nose.

“You’re very lucky you’re cute.” She digs around in her pockets, finding a pack of crackers, she always has food on her if she can help it and she offers the deer a cracker. It eats from her hand. Maybe she’s just trying to avoid moving her bruised body, but she spends a few moments finishing the little pack with the deer before finally forcing herself to stand.

Her motorcycle is in good shape, a little scuff on the side, but nothing she can’t buff out if needed. Dahlia’s baby remains the most stable part of her life. She rides it back to her trailer, a bit more carefully. She’s managed to burn through most of the day with her reckless bullshit.

She calls Lloyd and Caroline that night; telling them about her first week, skirting around details that might sadden them. Going to the F.A.N.G Center is reduced to just going there, nothing of being overwhelmed and leaving. No mentions of Pratt tricking her when she talks about Peaches, just an old lady with a cougar Dahlia got to carry. No mention of being left out everytime Pratt and Hudson go to the Spread Eagle. No mention of Lonny, the threats, the religious group that seems much more involved with the community than she originally thought. Everything is fine, perfect, ideal.

The pain of her little crash has mostly faded by the time she shows up to work the next day; uniform properly on when she comes into the station bullpen.

“What the hell happened to you?” Hudson calls out and Dahlia can’t help the heat crawling up her face at the attention. Her forearms and some of her upper chest that’s exposed are covered in bruises; mottling blues and purples.

“Oh, uh, I had a little bike crash yesterday.” She shrugs.

“Jesus christ,” Pratt grumbles and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Rook, you need a hobby,” Dahlia starts to say something, but Hudson continues, “one that doesn’t injure you.”

She likes to dance, but dancing completely alone isn’t as much fun, not awful but not as fun. And there's not exactly dance clubs in Hope County. Hmmm. Unfortunate. She shrugs, if her hobby kills her, it kills her.

During patrol, Pratt and her don’t talk about the F.A.N.G Center, they don’t talk about him being angry at her. An awkward cloud hanging over them as they patrol. She doesn’t even bother to ask to give tickets when they pull people over; already knowing Pratt won’t let her and not wanting the conversation. An emergency call to what’s called Sergey’s place breaks up the monotony, suspected overdose.

She digs her nails into the leather of her seat as Pratt flips on the sirens; what if it’s Tweak? Doubts of if she did the right thing running through her head. She wanted to help him; but if he ended up just being put on a waitlist and overdosing right after, how much good did she do?

Sergey’s place is a wooded area filled with abandoned train cars where homeless people and drug addicts gather. Dahlia rushes to where she sees a group of them gathered around; screaming and crying coming from the center.

“Clear the way, so we can help,” Pratt tells them, the crowd dispersing, a woman is seizing. Her entire body jerking and drool pooling from her mouth; another woman holding her close, crying over her.

“Did she take anything?” Dahlia asks.

“We were shooting up and then she was on the ground, I, it’s all my fault, I-”

“Understood, we’re gonna do everything we can to save her.”

Dahlia holds the seizing woman as still as she can, getting out the syringe of narcan that's kept in patrol cars. She plunges it into the woman’s arm, forcing the medicine into her system, watching as her seizing slowly starts to lessen. Removing it, she notices the large bruise and cut on the woman’s forehead.

“Dispatch,” Pratt radios in, “we need an ambulance out to Sergey’s place, confirmed overdosed, head trauma, female early twenties. Junior Deputy Hale has administered a dose of Narcan, over.”

Dahlia stays with the woman, to make sure she doesn’t seize again and hurt herself further. Meanwhile, Pratt clears the way and helps get the ambulance into the area when it arrives; the woman being taken away on the stretcher. They find out the one who was holding her was her sister, allowing her to go with her to the emergency room, while Pratt asks some questions of those who were around. Nothing suspicious; just an overdose, no one to blame.

The younger deputy sighs and a hand clamps down on her shoulder; gently squeezing. Pratt is next to her and she raises an eyebrow at him.

“We got here quick, she should be fine.”

“Maybe, lets get going.”

The conversation is still more than a little stilted as the day goes on; but it isn’t quite the awkward silence of before. Pratt making little comments and saying things, while she nods or hmms along.

Later in the afternoon, when they’ve stopped back at the station, for lunch and paperwork regarding the overdose. She yawns and stretches her arms, standing up from her desk to get coffee. Maybe she needs caffeine or maybe she’s just tired of sitting in one place; but either way she’s up and moving.

She rubs a hand down her face as she enters the kitchenette where the fridge and coffee machine are. Dahlia grabs her mug; one that was bought for her by Lloyd and Caroline. It’s a little embarrassing, the picture of a black cat with the message, ‘horrible and adorable.’

Warmth presses in close to her back, looming over her. The smell of Pratt’s cologne hits her just as a large hand plucks her mug off the counter. Pratt holding the mug high above her head.

“Hey!” She tries to grab it from him but can’t reach, Pratt grinning as she makes the effort to stand on her tiptoes but still can’t quite get it.

“Something wrong?” he smirks, “you can’t reach your kitty cat mug?”

“Can you go five seconds without being an ass?” She turns to face him, glaring at his shit eating grin, the mischief in his eyes as he crowds her and holds the mug just out of reach.

“Hmmmm, no. Can you go five seconds without pouting?” He reaches up with the hand not holding her mug hostage and cups under her jaw to squish her cheeks together and force her lips to pout out; laughing at her.

She smacks away his hand, making a grab for her mug, knocking against his chest in the attempt before he jumps back.

Dahlia whines and he just laughs, dodging her again as she tries to take her mug back. Her fingers can barely reach his face, let alone high above his head where he’s holding her mug hostage. She clambers to grab a hold of his bicep; trying to pull herself up high enough to grab it, laughing at the ridiculousness of trying to essentially climb her coworker to get her mug.

“Jesus christ, you fuckin’ spider monkey!” He nearly falls over, but catches himself and switches the mug to his other hand, placing it on top on the cupboards.

She glares for a beat, still hanging off of Pratt’s arm before letting go. Dahlia can’t even reach the top shelf in the cupboards.

“I’m actually going to strangle you.”

“Something wrong, Thumbelina?” He taunts and ruffles a hand through her hair, the gesture far more rough and teasing than when Whitehorse does it to comfort her.

“Yeah, my coworker is an ass.”

“Not my fault you’re short.”

“If I get dirt on the counter, you’re cleaning it.”

“What do you-” he bursts into laughter when she box jumps up onto the counter, grabbing her mug. The deep rumble of it makes her smile, it’s ridiculous, but he’s left her no choice.

“The hell are you doing, Rook?!” Whitehorses’ voice cuts through Pratt’s cackling and she jumps down with a yelp.

“Pratt did it.”

The older deputy straightens up, after nearly bending over doubled from his laughing fit. Whitehorse pinches the bridge of his nose, Dahlia swears she can see the migraine forming in his head.

“I didn’t do anything,” Pratt defends himself, “she managed that all on her own.”

“I, I just...no feet on the counter, that's where food goes, for fucks sake, ” Whitehorse looks from Dahlia to Pratt, “and no whatever you did.”

With that the sheriff leaves; weary of their bullshit. Dahlia jabs her fist into Pratt’s ribs, hard enough to jostle him but not enough to truly hurt.

“You got me in trouble!” She yells, sounding every bit a kid who just got ratted out to the teacher, and Pratt only snickers.

By the time Dahlia manages to get her coffee, her face hurts from smiling. The ache of happiness followed throughout the day, until Hudson and Pratt cap off the night with another day of chatting at the Spread Eagle, Dahlia left to go home alone.

The next day a call comes in from Adelaide Drubman, Hurk Sr’s ex wife who owns the marina as Dahlia’s been told. She’s seen advertisements around for the older woman’s real estate business, telling people to call Addie. The woman pictured on the signs of those advertisements is a fair representation, albeit maybe a little more airbrushed, of the woman standing before them when they arrive. Older with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes, a red bandana tied in her hair. She’s all sly smiles and winks when she sees the two deputies walking towards her.

“Well, hey there, hon’,” she greets them, the southern Montana accent one of the strongest Dahlia’s heard since she’s arrived here.

“Hey, Addie,” Pratt replies in kind and Dahlia gives an awkward wave, “what’s wrong?”

What’s right, Dahlia can’t help but wonder as she looks at the property, clearly abandoned and dilapidated.

“Well, I think some squatters might have moved in on me, sweetheart. And, apparently threatening them with my gun is illegal, but having y’all run ‘em off with yours is fine. Go figure.”

“Yeah, the law is pretty picky about that kind of thing,” Pratt says with a laugh.

“I mean, I’m not complaining , at least I get a chance to see some young pieces of ass in uniform.”

Dahlia chokes and coughs; heat flooding up to the apples of her cheek. That was blunt. Really blunt. Pratt doesn’t seem the least bit bothered, maybe he’s just used to this. Despite her embarrassment, she’s smiling. Something about Adelaide is comforting, warm and friendly, the kind of person who doesn’t know a stranger. Dahlia remembers the gross curmudgeon of an old man that use to be her husband.

“Speaking of which,” Adelaide continues, looking at Dahlia, “I don’t think I’ve seen you before, honey.”

“Uh, yeah, I’m new at the station.”

“Our probie junior deputy.”

“Adelaide Drubman, pleased to meet ya.”

“Uh, this might be impolite,” she pauses, rethinking for a moment, but she needs answers, “but were you seriously married to Hurk Sr?”

“Un-fucking-fortunately.”

“Did you lose a bet?”

Adelaide starts laughing and Dahlia can’t help but smile, the sound absolutely heartwarming.

“I’m serious; lose a bet, piss off a witch and get cursed, broke a mirror and had seven years bad luck… It’s gotta be something, ‘cause that just don’t add up.”

“Well, aren’t you just the cutest thing,” the older woman tells her, “word of advice, don’t let anyone tell you you gotta stay with a man just ‘cause he knocks you up.”

“I’d rather die.”

“Good, keep that mentality, save you years of suffering.”

“Okay, enough chat, let’s go check out the place,” Pratt says, nudging Dahlia to get a move on. She sticks her tongue out at him as they walk into the rundown house.

There’s trash strewn around, thankfully no needles or sign of drug users here. Adelaide must have a lot of trust in whoever she has cleaning these places up for resell. They pass through rooms, looking for anyone who’s not meant to be there, knocking on doors and calling out. Most of the house is cleared through and the two of them head to the attic, a good place for any squatters to hide.

The stairs creak under her feet as she takes them two at a time, moving ahead of Pratt in minutes. She hears him grumble, he tells her to slow down, but she doesn’t.

It’s dimly lit, some abandoned furniture and old antique crap littering the area; blocking the window that might have let in even a glimmer of sunlight. She flicks on her flashlight. The light illuminates the dust that hangs heavy in the air, drifting across her vision. Something rustles, a box shuffling across the floor.

“What was that?” Pratt asks as he finally joins her in the attic.

“I don’t know, yet.”

Scratchy noises echo through the room and she walks towards where she saw the box move. She crouches down and shifts the boxes out of the way, finding nothing but a dusty floor beneath them. Then something presses against her leg, a soft sniffing noise.

“Oh my god!” She gasps as she looks down at the cute opossum staring up at her; baby pink nose sniffing at her jeans. A white face, tawny gray almost black body, with big soft dark brown eyes, its wiry whiskers curling at odd angles.

“Is something wrong?!” Pratt yells out and comes rushing over, feet stomping across the floor; the heavy thuds making the opossum hiss and creep backwards.

“You scared it, jackass.”

“I,” he looks down at the hissing opossum, “I thought something happened.”

“Shhhhhh…”

Dahlia reaches out; tentatively brushing her fingers against its narrow snout, feeling the short slightly rough fur. The hissing stops and it sniffs at her hand, letting her scratch up its face to the top of its head. It relaxes into her touch and she scratches behind its ear.

“You can’t pet every animal, you meet, Rook.”

“Watch me,” she says before scooping the opossum up in her arms, holding it close to her chest. A tongue licks over her cheek, the marsupial content in Dahlia’s arms.

Pratt shakes his head and leaves the attic; Dahlia following him down the stairs. Adelaide is waiting outside the home when the two deputies exit.

“Good news, Addie-”

“I acquired a baby.”

“Jesus fuck,” Pratt rubs a hand down his face at her interruption, “there’s no squatters.”

“’Preciate ya coming out to check and taking care of the opossum problem.”

“I fail to see the problem.” Dahlia’s new friend is trying to climb up her head, licking her scalp.

“You really gonna try to sale this mess?” Pratt asks, rolling his eyes and ignoring the younger deputy’s new pet.

“It’s my best chance of making any profit anymore; those fuckin’ Seeds are buying up any place thats actually worth a damn thing. Flipping run down places is the only way to even hope of making money anymore. You know those bastards even tried to by the Marina.”

“They’re gonna own the entire county before we know it.”

Deputy Pratt shrugs his shoulders and Dahlia chews her lip; unsure if she likes how casually they talk about the local religious nutjob owning the county. The older deputy doesn’t even seem bothered by the thought; the idea of them buying everything just thrown out as blasé as one would say the time of day.

“I swear to god, I can’t figure out what I wanna do more; punch John Seed’s face or ride it.”

Dahlia raises an eyebrow at the older woman; she’s unsure what that means…but it sounds vaguely inappropriate… Her nose scrunches, brows furrowing as she tries to reason through this. Riding…like sitting on someone’s face? So, oh… Heat flares up Dahlia’s cheeks as the meaning hits her; definitely inappropriate. Very inappropriate. She covers the opossum’s ears, as if to protect the innocent being from the filth, meanwhile her own ears are burning.

“Addie…”

“I know, I know,” Adelaide waves her hand dismissively, “but you know what they say, the pussy wants what it wants.”

“Not sure that’s the saying.” Pratt laughs

Dahlia raises an eyebrow before looking down at the opossum in her arms as if the little critter could answer her unasked question. Instead, its doe eyes just stare up at her. What cats have to do with Adelaide wanting to fuck John Seed is beyond Dahlia’s comprehension.

“You alright over there, hun?”

“Don’t worry about her,” Pratt dismisses Adelaide’s concern, “she’s probably just wondering what cats have to do with anything.”

“Oh lord.”

“How did you know?” Dahlia whispers, wide-eyed at Pratt, only getting a throaty laugh in response.

“How old are you again, sweetie? Pussy, vagina, cunt; what’s between your legs. Well, maybe not yours, I ain’t got a chance to check y-”

“I would like to change the subject!” Dahlia blurts out; face feeling like it’s been set on fire and no doubt a vivid flush a red. Adelaide’s little grin and Pratt’s laughter only serving to make her face more crimson.

“Well…if we’re on the subject of faces I wanna ride, the Ryes are having their barbecue next Saturday, you and Hudson gonna make it out?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I’ll be seeing you then, Pratt, and hopefully you too, junior deputy. I gotta call my remodeling guys.”

They say goodbyes and wave off Adelaide, going back to the patrol car. Dahlia cuddling her new opossum friend as she goes. This is her baby now and will comfort her through humiliation at the hands of Hope County’s sex perverts.

“What are you doing?” Pratt asks, when Dahlia opens the car door.

“What do you mean?”

“Fuckin’, put the opossum down!”

“No.”

“You’re not bringing that thing into the car.”

“I’m not abandoning my child.”

“It’s literally a wild animal.”

“It’s a opossum, not a bear, calm your tits,” Dahlia tells him firmly, opening the door and plopping down with her critter in her lap. Pratt groans and jumps in the driver side.

“So, what, you’re gonna take it home and make it a pet?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“You know how some stations have like animals and stuff?”

“You mean K-9 units, trained dogs? You wanna train a fuckin’ opossum?”

“No, don’t be ridiculous,” she rolls her hand flippantly, “I’m not gonna train her, she’s perfect the way she is.”

“Have fun getting the sheriff on board with this, that thing could be rabid for all you know.”

“Opossums don’t carry rabies; like they physically can’t have rabies.”

“Okay, fuckin’, opossum expert.”

Dahlia spends a mile or two, just watching out the window at the world passing by as she scratches at her new friend’s ears. Passing by a sign for Rye and Son’s Aviation, she remembers the conversation with Adelaide.

“Who’re the Rye’s?” She turns her head towards Pratt, head cocking to the side in curiously.

“Huh? Oh, they’re a couple who live not too far from Falls End. They have these big barbecues that basically the entire county shows up to; everyone brings some food, it’s a whole thing.”

“That’s nice.”

“You should come.”

“I don’t know them.”

“It’s open invitation, you live in Hope County, cook some food, show up. It’ll be fun.”

“Just like the F.A.N.G Center?” She raises an eyebrow

“Well, if you don’t freak out and run off halfway through, yeah, things can be fun.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” She rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out at Pratt.

Side eyes and double takes are taken at Dahlia as she walks into the station carrying a opossum. Dahlia just nuzzles her face against the top of the opossum’s head as they reach the office, plopping down in her chair and propping her feet up on her desk. Pratt walks past with his lunch and Dahlia grabs a handful of apple slice off his plate; making the older deputy stop and glare at her.

“Can I help you?”

“I gotta feed her.” Dahlia shrugs, letting the opossum munch on one of the slices of fruit.

“Feed her your lunch.”

“My lunch is an energy drink and a twinkie.” She ate the last of the lunches Caroline sent with her; an empty fridge and a sink full of Tupperware waiting for her at home.

“How the hell are you still alive?”

“The world’s too cruel to end my misery.”

“Jesus fuck,” he rolls his eyes, “calm it down, Hot Topic.”

“What are you doing, Rook?” Heat zings up Dahlia’s cheeks when she hears Hudson’s voice and sudden fear that being the weird opossum girl might not be what she wants.

“Is that a fuckin’ rat?” A guy next to her, dressed in the standard officer uniform asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Feeding...opossum…Who are you?”

“Rook, this is Brennan, he’s one of our officers, Brennan this is-”

“The rookie deputy, I know, I’m officer Beau Brennan, nice to meet ya,” he says, extending a hand and she moves the opossum to properly shake it. Beau Brennan, possibly the most southern sounding name she’s ever heard, especially this far up North.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

“But, uh, Rook,” Hudson looks at Dahlia, “should you really be bringing a wild animal into the station?”

“Maybe not...she’s friendly, though.”

“So, Joey questions you and she has a point,” Pratt swings his hand in an angry gesture, “but I do it and I get mocked?”

“Yes.”

“Well, why don’t you tell Joey, how you want the opossum to be the station pet?”

“Do you?” Joey raises an eyebrow at Dahlia, the younger deputy’s face turning a deeper shade of scarlett.

“...yes..”

“If you want the thing so bad, why not just take it home as your own pet?”

“That’s what I was asking!” Pratt butts in.

“Five seconds ago, you were asking how the hell I kept myself alive, you want me in charge of keeping something else alive?”

“She’s got you there,” Hudson looks back to Dahlia, mirth lighting up those olive green eyes, “what's her name gonna be?”

Dahlia suddenly has no coherent thought in her head. Just cricket noises as she realizes she’s never actually named an animal in her life. Every time she’s ever had a pet or something close to one, she just refers to it by species or someone else names it. The cat’s name is cat, dog’s name is dog.

“....Opossum…?”

“Not how names work,” Hudson pets behind the opossum’s ear, “Petunia?”

“Petunia, it is,” Dahlia flusters to say grinning, she’s actually okay with this, Hudson doesn’t mind the weird opossum girl.

“Why are you encouraging her!?”

“‘Cause it’s annoying you.”

“I think the girls have you outnumbered, Staci.”

“Staci?” Dahlia looks over at Pratt, is that his first name? She’s never actually heard it before. His face completely falls, hazel eyes harsh and angry.

“Shut up.”

“Your name is Staci, oh my god.”

“Spelled with an ‘i’,” Beau adds, grinning as Dahlia starts cackling.

“Oh my god, you have a sorority girl name!”

“Laugh it up, you know when Whitehorse comes back, you’re gonna have to say goodbye to your new friend.”

“Eh, it’s Rook, so he won’t mind much,” Joey says, shrugging her shoulders.

“Huh?”

“You don’t know?” Brennan raises an eyebrow at her, “everyone knows that the sheriff is soft on you. Been hardly a week and it’s like he’s adopted you.”

Her cheeks hurt from grinning, Whitehorse sees her like his own child? She knows she’s lucky to even have gotten the job; let alone the way he’s been going the extra mile to make her feel at place here. But knowing he may see her like family lights up her heart. The sheriff already reminded her of Lloyd before, but hearing that cements the comparison.

“Dear god, if you were a dog, your tail would be wagging,” Pratt-Staci, grumbles as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“It's cute,” Brennan defends her, “we don’t even need a canine unit with her around. Ow!”

Brennan jumps when Dahlia kicks him in the shin, hard enough to bruise she’s hoping. Hudson and Pratt laugh. Petunia is content and nuzzling into Dahlia’s neck as the four shoot the shit, the topic of the Rye barbecue coming up. Hudson and Brennan both plan on being there as well. Dahlia finds herself sinking deeper into her chair, holding Petunia closer. Taking her phone from her pocket and checking the notifications on John’s little video. Other than someone claiming he looks familiar and another person saying he’s hot; it’s mostly more taunts.

“What’s going on here?” Whitehorse’s voice cuts through the chatter, the sheriff coming through and spotting the gathered deputies and officer. His eyes landing on Petunia within a second, “Rook?”

“Yeah?” She scrolls past someone using a gif of John’s light up yes sign as a reaction gif.

“Why are you holding a opossum?”

“She likes being held.” She doesn’t bother looking up from the phone.

“She?”

“Her name’s Petunia.”

“You can’t have a opossum.”

“She’s the station opossum.”

“Rook,” Whitehorse sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose, “just go put her outside.”

“So, she’s an outside station pet?”

“I don’t care as long as she’s outside.”

“I’m taking that as a yes,” Dahlia says, finally looking up and grinning ear to ear. Whitehorse shakes his head and just waves her off before going into his office, no doubt looking for some Tylenol or Aspirin at this point.

“That’s it,” Pratt lets out a heavy exhale, shaking his head at Dahlia.

“Told ya, soft on Rook.”

“I’m gonna take Petunia outside, to her new home.”

“Do you think she’ll stay around?” Hudson asks, as her and Pratt follow after Dahlia, towards the little lot of land behind the department.

“If I keep feeding her, she should, right?”

“I’m gonna have to start bringing two lunches, aren’t I?”

“Nah, you don’t wanna overfeed her.”

“Hilarious.”

The wind is blowing just a bit; breezing by and shifting the grass around them. The sun starting to set as the evening arrives. Petunia licks her cheek and then runs up on Dahlia’s shoulder, little hands grabbing at her skin as she clambers up onto her head; curling up like she belongs there.

“Pffft,” Hudson sputters out a laugh, “look this way, Rook.”

Dahlia faces Joey, grinning with the apples of her cheeks flushing red. The older deputy has her phone out and snaps a photo of Dahlia with Petunia perched on her head. She’s not sure why the moment is worth catching, but she’s glad it was.

“Send that to me, if you don’t mind…” Dahlia asks as she puts Petunia down in the grass.

“No problem,” she taps away and Dahlia feels her phone buzz, “and don’t worry I’ll send it to you, too, Pratt.”

“I didn’t ask for it.”

“Didn’t have to.”

Dahlia sits down on the ground, petting Petunia as the sun sets. As always Hudson and Pratt leave that evening for the Spread Eagle, she catches Brennan talking about going to the Hollyhock Saloon with some fellow officers before she leaves. Everyone has their friend group, their routine. And it’s time for her own; going home to an empty trailer.

And an empty fridge, she remembers. Oh god, she has to go shopping doesn’t she? It’s a break in the monotony but she’s not sure it’s a welcomed one. She also has to do dishes at some point…and laundry… Adulting sucks.

There’s a little family owned market in the Henbane River region; just a bit more to it than the general store in Falls End. The fluorescent lights irritate her eyes as she pulls off her helmet to look around. Never the cooking type; Dahlia’s hoard comprises of things that don’t require more than a microwave to prep. Frozen meals, snacks, and absolute garbage pile high in her cart as she scours the shelves for more. This might get her through for a week.

Her phone buzzes, another Twitter notification, she’s sure someone else reacting to the Eden’s Gate commercial. She tugs her phone from her pocket; just like she thought a Twitter notification, but the message beneath it catches her eye. A text from Hudson, where she sent the photo of Dahlia and Petunia. The young deputy hasn’t gotten around to opening it; mind preoccupied. She opens the message.

Dahlia doesn’t take pictures of herself and has never been particularly enthralled with her own appearance. But, she likes this photo of her. Petunia is perched on her head, dark eyes warm and soft. The evening sun setting behind Dahlia illuminates her in golden light; dark hair mussed, brown eyes lighting up amber where the light hits, and a wide grin on her face.

Beneath the photo is a message from Hudson captioning it;

‘cant tell who looks better here’

Heat makes it way up to her hairline. Is…did Hudson call her cute? She’s comparing Dahlia to Petunia, a opossum, both Petunia specifically and opossums in general are cute. So if Hudson’s saying Dahlia’s looks are on par with a opossum; does Hudson mean she’s cute? But, not everyone thinks opossums are cute… Some people think they’re gross little trashy goblins, does Hudson think she looks like a trash goblin? She seemed to like Petunia, but just cause she was nice to the animal doesn’t mean she thinks opossums are cute. Dahlia leans her forehead against the freezer section for a moment; letting a turkey meal cool her flushed face as she forces herself to not agonize over this.

A few deep breathes and a concerned passerby make Dahlia straighten back up, getting her bearings before heading to self-check-out. She quickly rings up her items and bags them, leaving the market with her grocery bags in tow.

“Leave me alone…please…” A soft demure voice whispers, a woman about Dahlia’s age stands beside the road a man towering over her with a beet red face. The smell of liquor coming off him on the wind. His hand is wrapped tightly around her wrist, her skin indenting under his grasp as she tries to fold in on herself to avoid his touch.

“Wh-what, you scared daddy Joe’ll call you a sinner for spending some time with me?”

The stench of alcohol wafts off his breath with every drunken slur; even at a distance, the smell churns her stomach. She drops her bags on the cement and makes a beeline towards them, she needs to keep this from escalating, or someone will get hurt.

“Leave me alone!” The girl’s voice shakes as she tries to pry herself from the man’s grasp.

“Fuckin’ peggie whore!”

“Hey!” Dahlia yells out and runs as his other hand starts to raise and pull back.

She gets between them just in time to feel the crack of his hand striking her face. An ache and echo of pain rings through her jaw; a metallic taste where her cheek scraped the inside of her jaw. Glassy eyes widen, the man shocked at the interruption.

“Wh-who-”

“I’m a deputy with the Sheriff’s Department, and unless you want some jail time for assault, I recommend you get the fuck out of here.”

“Pssh,” he scoff, whiskey scented spittle spraying into the air, “li-”

“I’m giving you to the count of three to get out of my sight, sir. One,” she leans into his space, glaring him down and sneering as she counts, “two, th-“

“F-fine, fine, fuckin’ bitch.”

He makes a dismissive hand gesture as he grumbles a curse, but he stumbles away, leaving the two girls alone. Dahlia rubs absent mindedly at her cheek before turning towards the girl; a peggie, he called her. One of the followers of Eden’s Gate. She’s beautiful, five or so inches taller than Dahlia, with long black hair falling in waves down her shoulders. Delicate fine facial features, the deputy can’t help but feel the girl’s face might have shattered has it been struck. Like the handful of peggies she’s seen, traces of tattoos and markings are on her. ENVY etched across her chest and a delicate tattoo of vines with blue flowers curling up her forearm.

“Are you okay?” Dahlia asks her.

“Oh yes, yes, I’m fine, but are you?”

The girl reaches out, fingers nearly brushing over Dahlia’s cheek. She instinctively ducks back, avoiding the touch. Strangers touching her is never something she’s been fond of, though she can’t imagine many people are.

“I’ve taken worse from better; I’ll be fine. You be careful and have a safe night, ma’am.” Dahlia nods at her and makes the quick walk to her abandoned groceries and bike.

She stoops down and begins to collect the food that fell from her bags. A pair of slender hands join in, helping gather up a bag of microwave meals for her, the girl offering it to Dahlia once it’s secure.

“Thanks,” Dahlia murmurs, taking it from the stranger, stashing her groceries in the little storage space under her motorcycle’s seat.

“It’s the least I can do…I’ve never seen you before.”

“I started here about a week ago.”

“Really, that’s incredible…The Lord placed you here at the exact right time.”

“Nah, I just needed groceries,” Dahlia shrugs, “well, hope you have a nice night.”

“Wait,” she knots a hand in the deputy’s shirt, “I’m Layla…”

“Nice to meet you,” Dahlia offers, Layla’s dark brown eyes are darting around, avoiding eye contact.

“I…was on my way to a sermon at Father Joseph’s church and-”

“Look, Layla, if you need my help just say the word. But, if this is the beginning of a conversion spiel; save your breath and my time, ‘cause it ain’t happening.”

“I don’t feel safe, going there alone, right now. What if he comes back?” Her arms cross over herself, the thin cardigan not doing much to protect her from the night chill.

“Oh, uh, you don’t have anyone who can go with you? Aren’t religions like, community things?”

“I was gonna walk there by myself, but…”

“Fuckin’ hell, where is it?”

“Up the north bridge, one of the island’s in the middle of the county, it isn’t far.”

“Here,” Dahlia shoves her helmet at Layla, “I got one helmet and if anyone’s brains are splattering on the road, I’d rather they be mine.”

Layla pulls the helmet on over her head, body still shivering. Dahlia shies and shrugs off her leather jacket; it’s only going to get colder on the ride there with wind whipping around. She hands it to Layla who smiles and takes it, pulling the worn black leather jacket on. Oversized on Dahlia and still marginally so on Layla.

“Thank you,” Layla murmurs as Dahlia straddles her bike, then climbs on the back. Dahlia takes in a deep breathe when arms wrap around her midsection, Layla pressing in close to the deputy’s back as she starts the engine. The familiar nature of the touch contrasting with the fact they’re strangers.

As Dahlia makes her way up to the bridge, Layla lifts the visor just a smidge so that she can whisper directions in the deputy’s ear. Once she’s past the bridge coming from the Henbane, the roads have fencing and barbwire, making it nearly impossible to go from the road into the woods on the island. She rides down the winding road, taking a left turn off the paved road onto a beaten path, rounding the corner she sees it.

A cold sweat builds on the back of her neck, heart dropping into her stomach. It’s a collection of small white buildings, dark roofs, with Latin scrawled across some of the buildings; Luxuria, Acedia, and more she’s sure. All of it on a large piece of land, within she can see picnic tables, bundles of white flowers, where they might gather for picnics or barbecues. She pulls her bike to a stop just a distance from the white gate; Church of Eden’s Gate etched in the upper arches.

People are all around, getting out of white trucks and cars, greeting each other with hugs and waves; throwing side eye glances at Dahlia when they notice her. Dogs are barking somewhere; she doesn’t know where from. Layla clambers off the back of Dahlia’s bicycle, pulling off her helmet and handing it back to her.

“Sister Layla,” a deep masculine voice rumbles out, a familiar man standing by the white gates. Tall with a thick dark beard, his deep dark eyes are focused on Dahlia as he speaks to Layla. Theodore is what the other man called him that day when Dahlia caught them stealing from The Spread Eagle. He looks a moment away from ripping the deputy’s head off her shoulders; his shirt dipping in a way that exposes the way PRIDE etches across his chest, crossed out as are all sins the church members wear.

“Brother Theodore, this is-”

“The new deputy, we’ve met, why is she here?”

“I was just getting ready to leave, don’t worry.”

“What,” Layla’s eyes widen and she grasps Dahlia’s arm, “you can’t.”

“I can’t…?” Dahlia raises an eyebrow and shoots a pointed look where Layla’s grabbing her, making the girl let go. Layla’s trying to rope her into this shit, isn’t she?

“You came all this way Deputy, why not just come in, listen to the sermon.”

“Not happening, I already told you, not my scene. Just give me back my jacket, so I can leave, okay?”

“But,” Layla chews her lip, gears in her head turning, “how am I suppose to get home?”

“I saw at least thirty people go in that church, I’m sure someone will be willing to give you a ride home.”

“Oh, uh, I-”

“Brother Theodore, Sister Layla, service will be starting soon!” Someone calls out from within the compound.

“I have to go, I’ll be right back, Deputy!” Layla rushes to say and then runs off towards the church, Dahlia’s jacket still on her shoulders.

“Hey, wait!” Dahlia jogs after Layla, hurrying through the little compound, but the woman vanishes into the steepled church ordained in cross symbols.

She stops, just before entering the door and takes a step back. The crush of boots in dirt echoes beside her before coming to a stop, the looming of someone nearby. Body heat lingering near her side as she looks up at the cross on the topmost steeple of the church.

“You going in?”

“No.”

“Have fun out here,” Theodore tells her, moving to press a heavy hand against the church door.

“Those dogs,” she starts, listening to the barks ringing out around her, “they friendly?”

“Why don’t you go find out?” He leaves her with a smirk, walking into that church.

Dahlia lets out a harsh breath and pushes her hand back through her hair. A breeze pushes through, her t-shirt and thin uniform shirt does nothing to keep out the chill. She’s not leaving without her jacket; her wallet and phone all in the pockets. Music echoes from inside the church as she plops down onto the ground outside it, balancing her helmet on her knees and resting her chin on it.

If your soul has grown weary, and your heart feels tired…

She fidgets with her helmet, chewing her lip. Please let this Joseph guy be short winded, she just wants to leave. The entire place sets her on edge, makes her skin crawl and she wants to hide away.

Let the water wash away your sins…

A cool breeze passes by, a soft whipping sound mingling with the singing. She scans the night sky, searching for her favorite and only known constellation, she has a feeling she’s going to be here a while…

#far cry 5 #fc5 #this is love #Dahlia Hale

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mcrmadness · 3 years

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I see it’s time to study drawing techniques, then... at least that’s what my brain is telling me now :D

I realized that even tho I have been to art school as a hobby during the ages 7-13, I literally don’t have any memory of anything from the lessons. Only things I remember are:

When I was 8 (in 1999), there was a huge Pokemon mania between all the kids and I was watching the tv show too. And then I really got into drawing the Pokemons by using my Pokemon collectors’ cards as reference images (btw I still have them - both the cards AND the later drawings). And literally everything we did in the class was draw Pokemons. Or, I did. Everyone else was focusing on the topics of the class but I was sitting on the floor in the hallway with my cousin, drawing Pokemons. And once I got too distracted, we would just run around the hallways of that building and did everything else than what we were supposed to do.

From later years (me aged 11-13) I remember how we had one of the people in the class “modeling” and he did some very hilarious postures because he was like the class’ clown. And then had to draw something about those.

Then I remember a small hole in the wall and that I heard music and I guess I tried to see if I could see through that hole but nope, nothing.

I was hanging out in the gymnasium with my cousin, it was very creepy place because that building is very old and had worked as a war hospital back in the day and I felt like I could sense dead spirits there. Once there was some lady singing opera and then she rushed out and we never saw her again. We played a detective with my cousin and came to the conclusion she was a ghost who ran after her husband who died in the hospital. In reality she was probably just a music student or part of the operas and just practicing there and maybe ran to a bus.

Sometimes there were some gymnastics groups in the gymnasium and me and my cousin tried to look at there through the keyhole.

I also remember my cousin being like “no we need to be in the class, we can’t run around the place” and I found that boring of her.

The last thing I remember is: acrylic paint. That f*ing acrylic paint everywhere, I hated painting and I felt like we were doing nothing but painting while there! I remember how we even made our own canvas from wooden frames and fabric but I just started wondering that I have no memory of that painting itself. I don’t know where is it and what I even painted? Not sure if it was acrylic (grrrrrr) or maybe oil paint we used there.

I have the folder with stuff from those years saved somewhere at my parents’ house, I guess that’s the only reason why I can remember drawing sketches about that guy because I literally still have the drawings to myself. I need to look for that painting tho, I have one that is still on my parents’ hallway wall but it’s ugly... actually, I painted it based on those sketches :D But anyway, it was on paper. WITH ACRYLIC PAINT AGAIN.

But other than that, I have absolutely no memory of anything actual that I would have learnt in that school. I mean, it’s a good school and I don’t blame it but if you read this list of mine... ummmm ADHD, anyone? I love and loved arts and I literally was more focused on a tiny hole in the wall and the music I was hearing that whatever that was that I was supposed to be doing in that class. I even remember the class room and where everything was but I can not for the life of me remember the art we did there!

SO YEAH the point was that pretty much everything I know I have basically learnt by myself because apparently nothing stays in my brain, and now I realized I have been drawing with pencils and colored pencils for years but I actually have no clue how you’re supposed to use them. I don’t remember shit from school nor from the art school. So I’m gonna watch some videos about these Derwent pencils and colored pencils I own to see if what I have been doing is even close enough! I mean, it has worked so far so probably I’ve been doing something right BUT maybe there’s some tips that can make it, like, actually stay in my brain too. Maybe I can learn something here even instead of just... improvising with the pencils as what I normally always have done.

#mcrmadness’ art talk #drawing #adhd

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eriisaam · 4 years

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Ten for Ten for Ten

AFKL:jafklasfjj I have been summoned by @arlithenerd

(Just kidding thank you, now here’s hoping I did this right haha)

My responses will be posted under the cut (cuz I’m a wall of text monster and don’t know how to do read mores mid-post), but in the spirit of the meme, I’ll move my own 10 questions up first, and the tags at the bottom of it.

Now let’s see what to ask, UUUH...

1) Is there a character you really, really like? Could be waifu/husbando, could be just someone you really resonate with.

2) How about OCs? Is there an OC you’re really fond and/or proud of?

3) What’s your most favorite character trope, and what’s your least favorite? (Example tropes: Jerk with a Heart of Gold, Beware the Nice Ones, Amnesiac Hero, etc)

4) Now what’s your most and least favorite plot trope? (Examples: Rags to Riches, Hurt & Comfort, specific AUs, etc)

5) To complete the Trope Trifecta: What tropes do you most or least like in terms of character design (Examples: Capes, futuristic or fantasy style, how practical they are, how complex or simple they are, etc)

6) What are you the most proud of? (Like, something you made or an achievement)

7) Who/What has been your biggest inspiration? (Like an artist or celebrity, a fandom, maybe something you read or watched growing up, etc)

8) When you want to relax, what’s your go-to way to chill? What immediately calms you?

9) Any favorite myths, legends, folklore or themes you really like? Or what kind of theme or element would immediately draw you in to a new series if they have it?

10) How merciful or evil will you be with your 10 questions you’re giving? (Heheheheh)

And now to subject all of you to these questions, but especially you: @mdzs-tgcf-svsss-fanblog @miss-laney @moanderfe @abenignsmile @okamiryuu @flowerytrashpotato @milli-and-chika819 @littlemissdash @grimastiddies @avistella (kidding, join in if you want, tag or no. Or don’t, even when tagged. It’s all cool, no pressure~ I have no idea who to tag and/or who is chill about being tagged for something like this, I’m sorry orz)

1) a personality trait that most people wouldn’t know about you (if you feel comfortable with sharing of course!)?

I’m kinda self-defeating. I tend to think of the worst about what I do as default and have to ease eventually to the idea what I did turned out at least ok afterwards. It’s still a mindset I’m learning to work on, though it trickles in from time to time.

2) what are you most passionate about?

Creating.

|’Dc Broad answer, I know, but more specifically, I love a lot of creative hobbies, and it’s hard to narrow it down to any specific one since I love them in different moods and different reasons. Things like writing, drawing(/spriting), textile things like sewing or crocheting or origami... It’s easier to say I like the core theme of knowing you made something, and it exists because of you, and “you did this” kind of feeling.

3) what is your favorite flavor profile? (sweet, spicy, sour, umami, bitter, etc)

Sweet! Depending on the food and my mood, I also like sour and spicy things, but I tend to gravitate more to sweetness with less fussiness of how so.

4) favorite series/franchise (from any medium) and favorite character within that series/franchise?

Oh gerd, there’s a bit, but in a vague attempt to narrow it down that let’s face it, I know I’ll fail, UUUH...

Fire Emblem (particularly Fates and Heroes) - I love both of them for just how easy it is to generate ideas for. It’s funny because I realize it’s admittedly taking a lot of things that frustrate or disappoint or leave me hanging with either games that I end up liking the two most by virtue for how many ideas it paves way for in terms of headcanons or fanworks or the like. I do like things on their own merits as well, but I think the “I wish things could’ve been better/elaborated on, and therefore I will create things based on that!” side to it was what made me appreciate them more (probably not exactly for the best reasons, but! It’s a thing.) In terms of favorite characters, there’s a ton inside and out of just these two games, but I’ll give the honorable mention to Summer Takumi specifically, because the paralogue he (among others) was released in came at a critical point in my personal life that had some effects on me that, tl;dr, led to me commiting to making this blog, and making more art in public, and eventually writing fanfics in public too.

Pokemon - Was basically my childhood and went a long way into starting the first spark of a lot of the kind of hobbies I end up growing up and obsessing over/enjoying. Things like giving me a massive interest in coding and programming along with glitches and unused beta elements, or how it’s where I got my start in art back when I was little and trying to figure out how to do pokemon fusion sprite edits. I’d probably say my favorite character is a tie between Missingno and Celebi (in case the former doesn’t really count), the former for just how varied it is and being the main part of why I love how game coding works while being a gateway to beta content interests, and the latter for sentimental reasons spanning all throughout the entire time I followed the fandom game-wise.

Animal Crossing - It got me through ups and downs, it made up a chunk of nostalgia since the first game up to New Leaf (no switch, so now New Horizons, oh wellz), and I had a lot of memories both fond and low-key terrifying otherwise all throughout. I got a lot of favorites among villagers and NPCs otherwise, but if I had to narrow it down to one each:

I love Whitney for being the only snooty-type villager back when I played Wild World who was surprisingly kind to me (and I’m sad I no longer have the original cart and imagine she long since moved out anyways probably), and so she gave me an experience pretty similar to Ai’s own experience with Whitney in the movie.

NPC-wise, I’m going to go with Sable (it was a really tough choice!) for the fact that in every game, she was among the first instances you can get to know a villager so closely that she was willing to explain to you more and more of her character. Usually in many of the games, once her arch is finished, she no longer elaborates on her life and goes right back to talking generally, but if it wasn’t enough that it was among the first times you see how her demeanor changes from ignoring or staying quiet with you, to going out of her way to find things to chat with you, it was also the memories she explained once you start befriending her.

5) how have your closest family members and/or friend(s) impacted your life?

I consider friends more as family than my actual family (to put it vaguely and/or kindly, my actual family did few to no favors for me). My closest friends have picked me up when I fell (multiple, multiple times), and they were much of why I’m still here, doing what I can. I owe the world to them...

6) if you could be anything (any job, other person, type of animal or beast, literally anything aside from what you are now) what would it be?

A multi-billionaire Maybe someone who shapeshifts. The possibilities with that are endless.

7) favorite beverage?

Coffee. There’s quite a lot of drinks I really love, but coffee is the most easily accessible for me.

8) i know this is a generic one but favorite subject/class you’ve taken?

Arts & Crafts and Computers, give or take. Pity they’re usually the least important for grades and also the shortest class semesters of the year.

9) early bird or night owl?

I’m heavily inclined to be a night owl, which is unfortunate, because I’m in a place constantly forcing me to be an early bird.

10) favorite meme?

I’m completely in love with memes of cat pictures where cats have expressions that are beyond words, yet represents big moods all the same. If I had to narrow it to one specific meme, however...

My heart will always be with Anfisa. Aka Angry Cat No Banana.

#Tag and ye shall receive #but srsly thanks #Also if you get tagged and don't want to do this then again no worries sorry

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supernoondles · 4 years

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2019

The last day of 2019 was also the day I fainted for the first time--a fitting metaphor for the year.

2019 was overall very emotionally taxing. This year was emotionally defined by falling intensely, deeply in love with someone (who is a very private person so I will try to be vague to respect that) and being in a lot of pain because of situations mostly outside of our control. There were a lot of intensely joyous moments, and a lot of intensely sad ones. Throughout it all I wish I had communicated better. I also made some bad decisions with another person I really loved and cared about that resulted in us growing apart. Do I think I grew from the experiences? For sure. Do I wish I could have come upon these realizations through a different course of action? Also yes. Am I fully healed from the experiences? Not really, but I've been getting better.

2019 was also very bad in terms of research. It was the 2nd year of my PhD. After I submitted my rotation project I basically felt stuck in the swamp of my advisors rejecting new project ideas for like literally half a year. This, combined with my high emotional volatility (partially due to starting birth control), made me really sad, unmotivated, and susceptible to self-blame. I definitely had high expectations for myself and became frustrated at my lack of progress and felt a lot of pressure from myself to get my shit together. I also felt incredibly bad after most advisor meetings and not supported by one of them to the point where I had to have a conversation with him about the lack of support (which was very scary)! Things started picking up, though, near the end of the year. I published a paper in collaboration with a former post-doc/now professor elsewhere whom I learned a lot from, and started finally building out another system. I also started mentoring an undergrad who at some point told me I helped him feel like he had something important to say and belong at Stanford for the first time and those words meant a lot to me. I think I'm continuing to refine what I value as research contributions and increasingly think about what it means to build systems that aren't used outside of the lab to satisfy the annual conference publishing cycle. I'm also starting to feel the pressure of doing work that follows a narrative rather than random projects that interest me.

Oh, I guess in terms of "program requirements," I did finish taking required classes, passed qualifying exams, and got a master's degree. But honestly those weren't hard at all nor do I think are externally valued in the larger research community, so I don't really celebrate them as accomplishments beyond surface level.

In 2019 I saw two different therapists. The first one was awful, I think directly influenced some of my bad decisions, and also didn't respect my gender identity??? The second one is a lot better and I'm grateful to see her, even if 90% of our sessions are just talking about my relationship (romantic/advisor) issues, which is something I want to move away from in the future. But I also feel incredibly privileged when relationship issues are the primary stressors in my life--I am grateful I feel equipped to handle other crap, like deadlines, and don't have to worry about my own health.

Those were the main things that have colored this year. We'll now move into the section of this post where I go through my photos to jog my memory of other events.

New years started a tradition of getting dim sum with Jasper, Matthew, and Michelle dear to my heart. My high school friend was also visiting and we all attended a really awesome new year's eve party. I was also going on a lot of dates and having a lot of good sex, which made me really happy, and at the same time crying all the time at work. In February I received probably the best gift anyone has ever given me and saw Panic! at the Disco, which I said in an end of the year group meeting was a good memory of my year (it was, to relive my scene days!). In March I roadtripped both to Marin (which I had never to been before, despite all my years in the bay) and LA for Wondercon; it was nice to both see high school friends and go on a trip with the boo. In April I went on a hike with my office which was probably the start of us all becoming closer (we are the social office in the wing now, which I take pride in! Also we draw a lot of Pokemon which warms my heart). In May I went to CHI in Glasgow and then to Paris afterward, and the entire experience was very weird and bad and also too many flights were canceled and/or missed and I vowed to not return to Europe for a while, but man do I love the noodles at Trois Fois plus de Piment. In June we hosted a double apartment party with my downstairs neighbors (side note: I am really appreciative of the place I live in, for the community, convenience, and large-ass space and will be really sad to be kicked out fall 2020) and I started a friendship important to me. I cat-sat for my advisor (the one who doesn't make me feel bad) twice. I went to Redwood State Park with my family and hosted a summer solstice celebration. Over the summer a friend I met in Paris back in 2017 moved in with me. I had a much needed escape from the bay to Seattle where I was reminded how abundant the world can be. I also went to Tahoe to celebrate my parents' anniversary, and really liked stumbling upon a smaller lake with a cheap boat rental. Then I became FOMO about the highly competitive Bay Area camping and did a last minute walk-in at Redwood Basin in Santa Cruz, which made me realize that I don't actually love camping (but was nice nonetheless). I ate an expensive meal at Commonwealth before they closed. For my birthday we made a friendship quilt and I served my favorite dish of cumin lamb but it was also 90 degrees in my apartment (I felt really bad and bought two fans afterwards). I started buying many cartoon frog plush after being gifted a $3.99 on sale Safeway frog (called Baby!). I went on Tinder dates (one of which was at a quaker yard sale marketed as Harvest Festival where I got a 1970s Kermit puppet for like $2) that largely went nowhere. My high school friend visited and we were both sad about break ups. I did Inktober before I went to New Orleans for a conference on Bourbon St where everything felt like it was coated in a sticky film of alcohol. I almost missed my flight home because I fell asleep in a sculpture garden but I had the most amazing Uber driver who snaked his way through traffic (oh and the flight was delayed by like 3 hours). I went to kind of embarrassing haunted houses and pumpkin patches over Halloween, but also had the most incredible bowl of ramen at Mensho. My whole office dressed up as Zootopia characters which warmed my furry heart. I spent like $120 on a Pokemon shirt. I started playing Arkham Horror and rekindled another friendship important to me. In November went on a road trip to Big Sur because again, I had to escape it all. For Christmas Eve dinner I roasted a duck for the first time (which was delicious). Shortly after I waited in line for 2 hours for a rollercoaster at Great America, which taught me the value of buying a fast pass because at this point in my life that money is worth it, and then waited 2 hours in line at the DMV to get a RealID (I had made an appointment, which was the fast pass).

Okay, now we move to the hobby section!

I got really into sewing in 2019, having received a sewing machine last Christmas. I made a Judy Hopps (which I wore to CrunchyRoll Expo) and Korok cosplay (Fanime), several unsuccessful garments, a crab bean bag, a dice bag, a fanny pack, and put hearts nipples on a jumpsuit.

Shows! I think I went to way fewer shows this year. The ones I can remember are Elephant Gym, Thom Yorke the night before I had an 8am flight, Carly Rae Jepsen over pride weekend (also, she is my #1 artist of the year, which makes a lot of sense given my emotional space), Mitski at Stern Grove, Capitol Hill Bloc Party (which was super lame, except for Lizzo, where I cried), and the National (which was a fucking surreal experience as they played on Stanford's campus, I was the only one within earshot of myself who knew the words to Crybaby Geeks, and then the white catalog moms came up to me after to thank me for singing the song).

I also started playing my own music! I started playing viola again for the first time in 7 years (lol) in both pop-up concerts with the Awesome Orchestra (one in Golden Gate Park, one at the Exploratorium) and a string quartet through my school. Sometimes I am filled with joy and delight. Other times interpersonal tensions run high and also I am very bad at being in tune. It's life.

Media! I really liked Mob Psycho 100 Season 2 and Beastars. I feel like those were the only notable anime I watched this year? I saw the Farewell three times--first in Seattle where I sobbed for like 1 hour after the movie, the second time with my parents, and the third where Awkwafina was present for a Q&A. I thought Parasite was incredible and Promare was OK. I have spent an unfortunately large amount of my time playing Pokemon Masters. I finally beat BOTW and completed my Pokedex in Shield like 2 weeks after getting the game.

Resolutions! In my draft of my 2018 end of year post (which I never polished and posted, sorry), I said my resolutions were 1. come out to my parents 2. draw enough to table at an anime con 3. be disciplined about paper reading and have a doc. I did none of these things!!! However, for 1, I feel like I am well equipped to have this conversation but am waiting for my sibling to do it first out of respect. 2 was just bad. I barely drew this year except for gifts. 3 was okay--I did have a large doc in the beginning of the year when I was looking for ideas, but as time went on I abandoned it (I also stopped reading papers, which I don't think you're supposed to do as a grad student...)

My resolutions this year are phrased as intentions (-(c) Matthew). They span several categories. Relationships: I want to open myself to and actively seek experiences of love, because I miss that. That being said, I will only date someone if 1. they have their life together 2. they love themselves and 3. they challenge me to grow. (I do think you can experience love without dating; the thing I'm after is love in an expansive sense.) Work: I want to do enough work so I don't feel guilty about not doing enough work, and also not berate myself for taking a long time to do things. Hobbies: I want to sew at least one thing a month. Chinese: I want to improve my Chinese, especially pronunciation.

Having written this 20 days into 2020, it's not been so bad so far. But I was also really happy in the beginning of 2019. Here's to no global maxima, a monotonically increasing year!

#noon's shitty end of the year summary posts #lol i never post on here anymore but i got 8 years of summary posts so i gotta maintain the tag u get me

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feelsaddict · 4 years

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Rules: tag people you’d like to know better!

Thanks to @momentofmemory for tagging me!

1. Dogs or Cats? I love both! But I do prefer dogs more. They let you pet them all day if you could.

2. YouTube celebrities or normal celebrities? Do YouTube counts if I only know one or two entertainment network on it and could match most of their faces to a name? Like they are fun to watch for entertainment, but I try to keep away from their personal lives. They don’t owe us everything about their lives.

3. If you could live anywhere where would that be? I romanticized living anywhere in the world. Paris, NYC, Tokyo, that cabin in the middle of the woods next to the lake. That hotel suite on the top floor downtown. I moved around a lot as a kid. Just love walking into a place an imagine how a normal life could be based around the place.

4. Disney or DreamWorks? Disney only because I seen and remember them more. Doesn’t help that they are also a Megacorporation who own and control 35% of all entertainment or something like that.

5. Favorite childhood TV show? So many to choose because I’m so nostalgic for them now. But if I have to choose, Avatar:The Last Airbender (I prefer Legend of Korra more, unpopular opinion), and Kim Possible!!

6. The movie you’re looking forward to most in 2020? I had to Google this because not a big movie goer. But Wonder Woman:1984 look interesting.

7. Favorite book you read in 2019? Not books but plenty of fanfiction. Don’t have the energy to emotional invest into something new. Scratch that. I just remember I read The Tyrant’s Tomb by Rick Riordan. Still can’t believe these books are still being written.

8. Marvel or DC? Marvel fan. Just find Marvel more appealing. I think it’s because it’s set in the real world and when they introduce real-world issues, you just get it and it easier to get emotional involved. Like I can’t get why people still live in Gotham, but I could understand more why people would still live in New York City.

9. If you choose Marvel favorite member of the X-Men? If you choose DC favorite Justice League member? Not a big X-men fan but the recent Dawn of X comic lines is drawing me into them. If you look at my blog, my favorite is clearly Spider-Man (Peter Parker to exact, if anyone was wondering.) For DC: Wonder Woman (tried to read her comics book but magic is a hard sell for me.)

10. Night or Day? I’m a morning bird but romanticized the night so much. My favorite memories are always at night, up late with my friends shooting the shit. Or driving everyone home on a empty highway.

11. Favorite Pokemon? Squirtle!! (Squirle Squad for life!) Also just learned recently it’s just a turtle and a squirrel mixed together.

12. Top 5 bands/artists: I like whatever sound good or have an emotional connection with. So I don’t like a particular band or artist. But based on my playlist, early Taylor Swift, Green Day, Hans Zimmer, and The Lonely Island.

13. Top 10 books The Percy Jackson series, (that could be the entire list if you count the squeal series) by Rick Riordan; Gameboard of the Gods by Richelle Mead; World War Z by Max Brooks; Vicious by V.E. Schwab; Under my Skin series by @asynca (seriously check them out); and The Book Thief by Markus Zusak.

14. Top 4 movies Into the Spider-Verse, The Amazing Spider-Man 2, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, and Inside Out.

15. America or Europe? They both f***** based accounting to Tumblr.

16. Tumblr or Twitter? Tumblr. And my friend regretted having me join. (She unfollowed me because as she put it, “I want to see my dashboard, not yours.” She still my friend so we all good.)

17. Favorite vacation destination? My friends. One live over 100 miles away and the other is literally down the street from me. (But stupid adult/work life keep us from only seeing each other once a month though.)

18. Favorite YouTuber? The FunHaus group.

19. Favorite author? Fanfictions writers because they give us so much more with little to nothing in return.

20. Tea or Coffee? Not a tea or coffee person. I will accept cold coffee from time to time and tea when i’m feeling adventurous.

Etc.

21. OTP? Too many to list!!! Just check my tags if you’re really curious.

22. Do you play an instrument/sing? No but I always wanted to learned how to play instruments: piano, violin and guitar. Singing is for the shower and karaoke where you enjoy being bad together.

Tagging - only if you want to!

@thatlaptopgirl @yourgrinningcheshirecat @spinningglobes

(only because i knew these people irl and too nervous to ask anyone else)

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pkmnsdarkqueen · 4 years

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You’re cordially Invited, to an absolute Dump.

@raysofpokemuse

Writober day 20: Seven sins-Wrath

(Another drabble)

Now there were a few times Karen came into the bar stressed. It was never anything too extreme though just a general mutter about something that annoyed her that day. She did vent occasionally, but it was mixed in with some humor and light hearted jokes allowing for general room to breath despite her frustrations. To sum it up her anger always felt controlled. There was an element of tact in her words and actions. Raw explosive rage was vast jump from any other degree of wrath she had previously, and such a contrast it took him a moment to recognize that the person who about slammed the door off it’s hinges from throwing it open so hard was Karen.

“GYM LEADERS ARE FUNCTIONALLY USELESS, AND THEIR ENTIRE EXISTENCE IS POINTLESS!”

She spat not exactly speaking to anyone. In fact it didn’t even seem like she saw anyone either simply glazing over faces while striding towards the stairs. There might as well of been a cloud around her as the waves of fury lashed out around her presence. Without saying a word of hello to Kimi, or Giovanni at the bar Karen took herself up the spiral stairs each step causing the metal to ring under her feet.

Once the door upstairs slammed shut signaling she was gone Kimi just gave a long whistle which rolled smoothly into a laugh. It was a stark contrast to the mood shift Karen had just entered with, and Giovanni stared at the tan skinned woman utterly lost as to what was amusing about this. Karen looked as if she was about to be unhinged which wasn’t something he had even known she was capable of.

“Oi, don’t give me that blank face rookie. She’ll be fine. Karen starts talking in extremes when she’s that angry. Although the punching bag up there is about to wish it was never made.”

Kimi noted taking the polished fork from his hand to start wrapping it with the set. Taking that as a signal to get back to work he started to pick ta set of silverware out of the bin to polish them up for her to wrap. He had only been there a month, and was still getting used to the way everything worked. Each week he worked with either Kimiko, or Takeshi. This week was Kimiko which meant he was working front of house with her. She was a bit brassy, but overall a good person. The woman was also a long time friend of Karen’s, and practically one of the owners. If she said Karen was alright then he trusted her. Still it was unnerving to see someone who usually fostered an atmosphere of tranquility to be so explosive.

“Do you know what she’s mad about then?”

He questioned.

“Yeah since she’s yelling about gym leaders, and is that angry then Morty pulled some shit again. Very few people can get Karen that riled up. Morty is one of them.”

Kimi explained having started picking out sets now since she was wrapping much faster than he was organizing. Seeing her start to do his job he grabbed a stack of her napkins figuring he might as well pick up her side too. Although by the time he had the silverware in the napkin she was already half way done rolling. Clearly one of them had been there longer.

“Huh, Morty? What’s the discourse between those two.”

“It’s a whole series of stupidity at this point. Really she ought to tell you, hey you know actually-”

She cut herself off reaching over the bin to scoop up the silverware he was currently trying to fold. He cast her a miffed face clearly wanting to finish at least one, but before he could say anything she’d undone all of his folding already. Great, it wasn’t even right in the first place.

“you should go invite her to the dump!”

“.....Excuse me the dump?”

Giovanni stated dead panning his expression as he said that for two reasons. One, she finished his attempted failed roll in record time. Secondly a dump didn’t sound like some place one would want to be invited to. He especially didn’t see how it’d help Karen’s fuming anger, and well admittedly wasn’t keen on the idea.

“I’m serious it’s a good spot, and you’re gonna end up going there at some point. All the regulars here do including myself. It is a literal dump, but that’s what’s so great about it. You can go smash apart whatever you want there, scream without being heard if you need, and it’s on a beach so it’s kind of nice to relax in the sand when you’re done being mad at the world. I know Karen loves it for that, and her pokemon can train there without breaking anything important.”

Kimi finished explaining. Giovanni paused for a moment thinking over the benefits she just mentioned. Admittedly the appeal of such a place did make more sense with that context. It was a more healthy way to channel anger than lashing out at other people. The draw back though was still the obvious, it was a dump. Being on a beach possibly would make the smell less putrid. Though if so many people visited the place maybe it wasn’t as bad as he was envisioning?

“Don’t I have to work in an hour?”

He pointed out going to pick up another napkin to have it promptly taken from his hand this time.

“I’m giving you the next few hours off then. It’d be good for her, and you and your pokemon have been cooped up here for a month. It’s not going to kill you to get a little dirty rookie. Besides I’ve ran this as a solo bar tender before, so get.”

Kimi shooed not even showing a speck of apology for shooting down his one excuse. The ex-leader sighed watching her again roll a set of silverware with unbroken muscle memory. As good of a person as Kimi was she certainly had her fire, and he’d learned not to fight it by now. Walking around to the front side of the bar he made his way towards the same staircase Karen had just stormed up to find Karen, and hopefully a still semi-functioning punching bag.

#day 20 #9all of the writing inspiration came today apparently)#writober2k19entry

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twilightvolt · 5 years

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I kinda was saving this for when i had the time to type everything out in one go, so let’s just get this over with before Smash drags me back into the depths of hell. XD

So, like, things happened back in 2017. a lot of things. graduated highschool, felt the winds of freedom as i stepped into the world of adulting and.....fell into a deep abyss of crippling depression as my life took a rather....wild turn to say the least. these feelings would linger and continue to haunt me throughout the majority of 2018. if you’d like to hear them or just need a refresher, my 2017 summary WITH that in depth description is on my DA that i no longer use cuz all i can think of when i go there is that year as a whole.

That’s not to say the year was cruddy, though. it really looked up by the end and it’s been one of the better years of my life as an artist. i’m about to go into that, so sit tight if you wanna actually read everything.

January: Arcus ~Collab with KLou

Things got heated at grandma’s after the holidays and we left in a huff cuz yeah, big fight the night before. it wasn’t something i ever wanna remember, but i gotta acknowledge it happened. thus began the struggles of living life as a nomad basically. From this point on until May, i won’t say much about our situation cuz honestly, time grinded to a halt after hotel life began.

February: Let’s Save the World

Believe it or not, this was a mobile drawing. i still didn’t have my tablet or my computer, so i tried using my phone for awhile. this was, of course, after i got Digimon Story Cyber Sleuth Hacker’s Memory for PS4, so this right here was my Dracomon babu Takumi, named after the former wearer of the goggles i equipped to him.

March: Let’s Kick It!

A brief moment of light as i fINALLY GOT MY TABLET BACK ONLINE! i felt like things were going to be different, we’d finally get somewhere and i felt like i could do anything again! this drawing, while super simple since it was just me around most of my current OCs at the time, was meant to represent me being back in business after around 4 or 5 months of being restricted to traditional work, a medium i, at the time, didn’t have much development in. (although, those months sure did help me learn how to draw that way in more than just sketching. so i’m actually kinda grateful i was stripped of the tools that i realize i may or may not have taken for granted.)

April: Spyro the Dragon

The Reignited Trilogy was announced and that’s why i drew that cuz literally everyone was doing Spyro fanart. i remember also doing a bunch of little doodles of other people’s characters in this same coloring style since some of the drawings i did before like the mobile drawing and my traditional work gave me inspiration on how to go about doing this new watercolor/marker like style that i started to experiment with throughout 2016 and ‘17.

May: Memories in Pieces

Remember how i said time grinded to a halt after hotel life began? yeah, this is where it reeeeaaally started to effect me. the days dragged on and blended together, we STILL could secure a home to house all of us and it just felt like my life was just....over. like, all the important stuff happened and now my story’s just done. it didn’t help that memories from the year before decided to come back and hang over me like an undying demon cloud. my anxiety and depression couldn’t have been higher. and yet i still managed to wake up. in fact, i woke up bright and early every day somehow. it felt like there wasn’t anything to believe in and yet....i still had hope that we could get through this. i knew deep down we weren’t gonna be completely out of luck.....but i still hurt at the same time.

I never uploaded this drawing anywhere, but this was, to put it simply, partly a new direction for a future project but also a vent art of sorts, representing the negative thoughts and regrets that never seemed to leave me alone no matter how much time has passed.

June: Digimon Atlas Adventures Ultima Vocal Collection

My second commission ever made since i opened that month. it was also the first time i really cel shaded along with made a logo since the year before. this day marked the turning point along with the end of my depression for the most part as the parents finally gave up and took...some of us down to Florida. a couple of siblings had jobs to keep up with, so they had to stay back in NY with.....eghh....grandma. to this day, i’m still hearing stories even if some of them eventually found their own place. i swear, the more i hear about what’s going on, the less i wanna go back to NY. >_>’

July: Drake ~Art Fight 2018

Oh yeah, we moved down to FL, but we were still in hotels IN FL, so there was change, but still pretty similar circumstances. we quickly found a place at some point, though. a cozy apartment complex that i’m happy to live in.

This is when Art Fight began....or rather when it was supposed to begin cuz they had technical difficulties for the first week or so. the day i revamped Drake for it was like i was saying hi to an old friend after parting ways years prior. it was a really fun experience that i’d gladly partake in again next year if i’ve got the time.

August: Gathers Under Night...

A very ambitious looking piece i did as an attack against a friend during Art Fight. it was my favorite attack i ever did and could quite easily be my favorite drawing from this year. after leaving hotel life behind me, i rarely, if ever, had war flashbacks or anxiety over the past. i felt like my life was finally getting somewhere again. for real this time. and that it did, thankfully.

September: Lost in Thought

A gift i made for a longtime friend and art senpai to try and cheer them up. i still look back at this and think “yeah....this is the style i’ve been longing to emulate. and i’ve finally achieved it.” granted, it took a lot from Kingdom Hearts II’s title screen, but where do you think i got my love of watercolor from?

At this point, i started to become a new person. i mean i already was considering the summer also involved me trying to become a little less total weeb at least in terms of music taste and also leaving my hoodie lifestyle for a good few months, but yeah. in fact, i think this was the month i buzzed off all my emo hair and really ended up resembling how i looked like back when i was little, anime cowlick and all.

October: The Lethal Protector

Oh yeah, Venom happened. i should’ve disliked that movie with all it’s flaws and unused potential, but instead i wholeheartedly stan it and i luv the portrayal of Eddie and Venom to the point where i forgive where it went wrong.

Yeah, i completely moved on from everything that tied me down at this point. i yeeted the past into the stratosphere and focused solely on what i wanted to do now. what my next move was. and i can thank these two losers for helping me stay focused on my craft. i also kept branching outside of Digimon. i wanted to be more than what i used to be.

November: My Favorite Ninja Frog

Didn’t do much this month, so all i had was a doodle of my starter partner for Pokemon Y. i never evolved him past Frogadier cuz i preferred him over Greninja. it was the tongue scarf, dude.

Why? ehh, it was most likely Warframe. i got into that game at some point cuz a friend persuaded me to do it. i don’t regret anything. i luv this game when i’m playing with friends.

December: Draw Your Roster Ultimate: The Winds of Reunion + Holiday Arcus

The Winds of Reunion cuz Wind Waker and the fact that everyone including Wolf, Young Link and even Pichu returned to Smash Bros. when Ultimate happened. this game cured my depression, cleared my skin and reignited my love for Starfox oddly enough since Starfox Zero AKA 64 with a new coat of paint and motion controls that weren’t as bad as you think didn’t exactly do it for me. i haven’t been so content with the way things are in a long time and i’m happy i finally got my hands on this treasure of a game. now, to wait for Kingdom Hearts III. ;w;

And now we finally get to the end of this long as heck recap. thank god Tumblr gives you unlimited characters, amirite? XD

Overall, this was a year of recovery and rebirth. it was a long and rough winding road, but in the end i think i’ve healed enough to finally get on with my life.

I’m not the same kid i used to be when i graduated highschool, and i’m definitely not the same kid i was when i was first starting out as an artist. my journey has been full of ups, downs and all arounds and it was all a much needed learning experience. even if i felt like i was suffering at times.

My future is mine to decide, and i’m not letting anything stand in my way again.

For the future i want to believe in.

#digital art #summary of art #2018 summary of art #digimon #Spyro the Dragon #venom 2018 #super smash bros ultimate #pokemon #year end reflections

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envy-the-freak · 5 years

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Updated verses! (You can tell which verses’ backstory/lore I haven’t gotten to geek out much with...)

Pokemon AU verse: Not quite what it sounds like. Instead of taking place in the Pokemon Universe, this verse is basically Fullmetal Alchemist with Pokemon. That’s it. Envy does have a few Pokemon themselves which include: Houndoom, Umbreon, Ditto, a shiny Zoroark (yes that is a reference to the other Pokemon verse I have), Absol, Hydreigon, and every once in a while a chaotic Mew who enjoys causing mayhem in the human world with them.

LITERAL Pokemon AU verse: This verse is the one that takes place in the Pokemon Universe. Envy is a shiny Zoroark who is pretending to be and spending their life as a human. As a young Zorua, Envy had watched their mother killed and skinned by human poachers in the wild. The young Pokemon desperately tried to survive on their own in the wild, but they were too young, were rejected by others of their kind due to the strange coloration and shine to their coat, and the other Pokemon in the area did not trust the Zorua since their kind were known for being tricksters. Eventually, the Zorua was driven close to human society and they had more luck surviving there despite being terrified of humans. After a close encounter with humans forcing them to take the form of a human child, they were taken in by a human couple and found it was much easier to survive if they just kept up the act. Because they did not trust humans and because their powers were not refined, Envy actually did a lot of damage to a lot of people for a period of time when they were young. It wasn’t until they were taken in by a family they actually began to like that they started trying to prevent causing harm to humans, learn how to use their powers properly, and just pretend to be one. Jump forward to adolescence and Envy has evolved into a Zoroark, their ‘parents’ have passed away from old age, and they have managed to keep up the act for years and don’t intend to stop. (In fact they’re so far into the act that they actually learned how to speak in their true form like Meowth in the anime. They’re not perfect at speaking in their true form, however, and they need to speak slow in order to be clear.) Also, for this verse, Envy is actually wearing a black and grey hoodie and black skort both of which remain there when they shift back into their true form. The rest of the outfit seen in human form is a black head band, black crop top beneath the hoodie, dark grey leggings, and black boots.

Sands Out of Time Verse: Verse made with @almostemperor. In this verse, Ling never tried to travel to Amestris until after the Promised Day. Because Ling was never there, many MANY significant things- most beneficial for the humans involved- did not happen, resulting in the Promised Day ritual working in making Father into a ‘God’ but Hohenheim’s counter attack actually making him more dangerous. Father begins ‘devouring’ everyone around him, including his own children. Envy manages to escape before Father can consume them, and flees Amestris into the great desert. At the Cselksess ruins (Xerxes in the anime in case there’s any confusion) they cross paths with Prince Ling Yao who had been attempting to enter Amestris and find the secret to immortality. Envy warns Ling that if he continues on, he will undoubtedly ‘die’ in Amestris. Given Envy has no idea where they’re going and seems to have remarkable regenerative healing, Ling offers to take Envy back to Xing with him to which Envy agrees. (Note: I did make this verse specifically with @almostemperor, but if you have a muse or an idea that would work with this verse I am open to using it with other people. I’ll probably tag our interactions as a subverse though.)

Twins AU Verse: What it sounds like. For some reason, when creating Envy, another homunculus was also made in the process-Jealousy. No one really knows what happened (not even Father is entirely sure). Envy and Jealousy look the same in human form, with the only difference being their marks are on opposite legs; Envy’s on the left, Jealousy’s on the right. In true form, the only way to tell the difference between them is their eyes; Envy has the single red iris on black in their right eye, Jealousy has two red irises on black in their right. The twins are almost always together. Jealousy is typically quieter than Envy, preferring to listen in and not draw attention to themselves, which can make them more dangerous since they don’t announce their attacks or intentions like Envy will.

Cosmic Horror Verse: The Lord of the Hounds of Tindalos, Mh’ithrha, decided to create a living weapon that could travel both through the angles of time (like himself and the rest of the Hounds) and the curves of space. In order to do so, the Outer God ‘mated’ with a human female one of his cults had kidnapped and left to the God to do what he willed with her. The resulting hybrid was left to their human relatives who wanted nothing to do with the creature and often treated the child cruelly or neglected them entirely. Their father watched from afar, sometimes pulling his offspring into the same plane of existence to silently ‘evaluate’ where they were in becoming the ruthless monster the God wanted. In the hybrid’s late teens, their mother committed suicide and the rest of their human relatives decided they wanted nothing more to do with the hybrid, selling them off to a professor who had knowledge in the ‘occult’ and a desire for the latent power brewing within the hybrid. The hybrid escaped their captivity and their power started bleeding out, allowing it to take on a human form, something it had never been able to do before. From here, the verse can begin just after the escape, or some time after. The hybrid gains the name Leviathan (or Levi for short), whether by taking on the code name the professor gave his ‘project’ or given by someone else (possibly your muse if we decide that). Leviathan’s true form is basically Envy’s true form without the masses of human bodies dripping off of them and both eyes being the red on black. Human form is also the same only without the forehead mark, and Leviathan does not wear tight clothing (usually looking like a college dorm dweller with loose t-shirts/hoodies and sweat pants/basket ball shorts or a fairy princess in dresses since they don’t have nor understand gender roles). Leviathan’s powers and abilities are also still developing since they are in the ‘infant’ stage of a Cosmic Horror, and can be troublesome (either not working at all or being so over powered they accidentally drag another Outer God down to Earth when all they were trying to do was teleport an apple from one side of a room to another). In addition, I do have two sub verses for this one besides the main. Demigod Days- Leviathan managed to get their hands on the infamous Necronomicon, and managed to make contact with Yog Sothoth, another Outer God that exists in a realm outside of reality and ‘sees all and knows all’. Yog Sothoth is surprisingly not as malevolent as the other beings the hybrid as always known and actually provides Leviathan with knowledge and guidance on how to use their powers. This leads to Leviathan adopting Yog Sothoth as their true non human parent, a move which enrages their biological father as he has been at war with Yog Sothoth for many Dream Cycles. Leviathan is still living in the same realm as Earth (for the most part) in this sub verse, but they are in fact a few Dream Cycles old now themselves and are gaining more control of their powers and becoming stronger. Devourer of Gods- Full fledged Outer God verse. True form for this sub verse is as tall as a ten story building at the shoulder, with teeth and claws and spines running down their back that are sharper than anything else in human beings’ known reality. A third eye is nestled in their forehead and there are two large eyes on their sides; one constantly flicking and twitching as it watches all of space, and the second equally active one watching all of time. Old scars, especially the long one extending from the bottom of their ribs to their first collar bone on the right side, have become extra mouths, kept shut and looking like scars until opened. Finally, the reason Leviathan has their title is because they can rip open their primary mouth all the way back to the base of their neck, able to ‘devour’ prey and transport them to a pocket dimension or completely different part of time and space, leaving them lost until they die or inconveniencing other Outer Gods and annoying them. Leviathan still holds a certain possessiveness of the Earth and humanity, whether or not that’s a good or bad thing remains to be seen.

Blank Slate Verse: After Envy revealed too much information to Edward and Ling in Gluttony’s stomach, Father decided Envy’s chattiness was too much of a liability. After fixing up Gluttony, (which I’m assuming is faster than it is in canon) he recreated Envy with their memory wiped, only he also went a step further this time and managed to recreate Envy so they were missing what the exact end goal for the homunculi is. They know it’s important, they know they need to help Father complete it, but they could not tell anyone what the final product is going to be even if they wanted to.

#verse: Pokemon AU #verse: LITERAL Pokemon AU #verse: Sands Out of Time #verse: Cosmic Horror #verse: unholy trinity #verse: Star Wars AU #verse: Perma Monster #verse: I'm Always Walking As Somebody Else #verse: Twins AU

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tumblunni · 6 years

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Aaa im so full of poke hype and lovv! <3

I feel like maybe doodling my kid self, for some reason?? Like embrace the nostalg and also show some love to that awkward lil kid who didnt really know who they were yet. Its interesting how much i've changed over the years!

Hell i might even draw personas of myself dressed as all the protags from all the different generations? But they'd be mostly the same for like the first 20 years, just me getting real tall and fat lol. I had almost floor length hair for SO LONG it felt really freeing to chop it all off and i never went back! I think i kept it cos it was loke.. Camoflage? The only 'girly' thing i had so i could pretend to myself that i was straight and cis. Plus a literal shield cos i could be 90% hair and just one eye poking out XD So yeah it'd be funny looking at me over time, its just this girly-looking kid getting increasingly more macho outfits and increasingly more girly hair and increasingly more socially anxious, until within the space of 18-25 i suddenly have this giant self discovery freedom explosion and change completely! Its funny how if anything i look less masculine now? Like im way more comfortable with the fact that i'm someone in between genders, and its not a binary of having to be something i'm not just to escape some other thing i'm not. Its also kinda funny how these gender roles felt so restrictive when i was crammed into one of them, yet dressing with both at once seems just as freeing as having neither. Tho still no matter how i dress i always get misgendered one way or another since non-binary acceptance is still far from the norm. But still im so much more me than i've ever been before, and its great to look back so i can realize how far i've come!

So lol maybe i'll just draw old kid me playing "her" first pokemon game, and leave out the next decade and a half of the same thing but taller. And i could just draw current me in a few different attempts at a pokemon outfit? Like when i did my sprite edits i just did me in my usual outfit i wear IRL, now im thinking maybe i shoulda designed a wish fullfillment ideal gym leader costume or something? Tho im too lazy to start the sprite edit project all over again with this new design lol. Oh and maybe also draw my pokemon go outfit? I dont wear it all the time but i had a fun lil look i wore the other day that i ended up laughing at cos i accidentalky wore all blue even tho i picked Team Valor! Now i wanna wear it all the time lol. Oo and maybe cosplay as my fave characters? If i cant afford to do it IRL i can at least draw it!

So yeh in summary somehow i feel really confident in my identity today and i wanna draw pics of me. Mild ego time!!! Or rather just wishing i could fly back in time and motivate my kid self by showing them that they woukd actually have the freedom to be themself some day. I dont even really think of it as "I used to be a girl" but just that i was always feeling this way and didnt know the words for it, or that other people felt the same way and it wasnt an 'abomination against god'. And for some reason playing a gane with selectable genders really helped me let out some of my feelings during that confused childhood of absolute repression. "I just pick a random gender each time cos it doesnt really matter right? Doesnt everyone just pick the one with the outfit they'd rather wear?" I absolutely knew that was a lame excuse and none of these other kids actually felt that way, but at least it kept people from suspecting i had queer reasons for my queer actions. In a time where i didnt even know what queer meant except that it was Somehow Bad. Gah, this is why sex education needs to be inclusive! Even when i was old enough to learn about straight sex i apparantly wasnt old enough to learn about gay and trans people! Let alone asexuality lol... Man it was a whole nother mess to be dealing with an anomolous lack of sexual attraction at the same time as i was repressing something everyone told me was 'inherantly too dirty for teenagers to know about'. For so long i was just told that crossdressing was 'a sick fetish men have for wearing women's underwear' not just.. A woman is a woman and is telling you she's a woman and you wont listen to her. And for some reason they always obsessed with MTF trans folk in these sensationalist hate sermons, i guess because 'a man who gets off on dressing like a woman' just sounds like the more disgusting version when youre a sexist homophobic transphobic piece of shit throwing your bigotry at children. And at the same time also aphobic and telling me i need surgery on my genitals if i dont want sex. Mannnn kids those days.. i really hope kids these days have it better! I hope everyone who dealt with that shit managed to find love and support eventually, even if its still a damn crime they had it denied to them during their most important childhood years. The whole concept of 'an innocent carefree childhood' is so unknown to me, its ironic people claim they want to keep "lgbt politics" away from children in order to preserve that innocent childhood...

Aaaaanyway im rambling lol! In summary pokemon was one of my only coping methods during that childhood and the only small way i could pretend someone accepted me. Even if it was just by whispering no when the professor said 'are you a boy or a girl' and being happy at the little genderless mons like magnemite or the legendaries. I dont think i would have ever realized it was actually POSSIBLE and had words for the complex dysphoria i was feeling, if i hadnt played this dumb lil series of games.

Anyway thats probably also why i never had any attatchment to gen 1 despite being born right as the first wave of pokemania was coming out. The memories i have of those times are complex. Im just excited to revisit kanto as a new and happy person and maybe make new memories! I already barely remembered actual Yellow compared to FRLG, it was kind of a trip to play it on virtual console and remember all the tiny bits of sexist writing that games used to have during that era. It was like 'whoa i never noticed this was wrong as a kid, this finally explains why it made me uncomfortable!' Also the gameplay was glitchy and the plot nonexistant and the translation rudimentary and limited. And the mons weren't very good and i prefer pretty much every other generation and especially Garbodor and Vanillite, dammit!

Ok im going offtopic again

So yeah like i said im happy that Let's Go has managed to make me hype even thougj i didnt enjoy kanto the first time around! And its good how much it represents my journey out of that shitty childhood so now i can revisit it and pretend this is my first time and None Of That Happened, Thanks

So anyway bunni draws past self. And gets emotional. And rambles for hours in a dumb post.

Ok bye

#why so many words

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toddhowardxreader · 3 years

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adhd asks: 4, 9, 14¿?

thx romeo <3333

4. what’s your oldest hyperfixation?

POKEMON!!!! absolutely. pokemon. it starts to make me weird out if i think too hard about it, not gonna lie, i learned to read from pokemon ruby and some of my strongest childhood memories are attached to the game. i remember in first grade for “100th Day” (this is something idk if other areas dO???? but we had a WHOLE celebration for the hundredth day of school. it was an entire affair) we had to make a booklet of 100 items and in class we would share it with the class. most kids did, like. one hundred stickers, one hundred pasta pieces glued to paper, one hundred polka dots, one hundred candies, that sort of thing. i was an over-achiever then as much as i am now, and i personally drew one hundred pokemon on construction and computer paper, colored them in and cut them out and pasted them for this entire booklet for this first grade event, looking back on it i have no fucking idea how. i just remember the day of the event a couple kids were mean to me because i think i miscounted in ONE section.

but to this day i love pokemon very much and would talk about it for hours if given the chance

9. favorite stim / one you do most often?

the first that comes to mind is: i learned very early on in therapy that having A Anything in my hands to fiddle with when forced to talk at length, greatly enhances my ability to Speak. i would always bring some little figurines or keychains or tiny plushes to my meetings to tuch when talking at length abt my feelings. is part of why i curse customer service for denying me the culturally accepted ability to do so, if i could hug a wooper plush while ringing up customers then of COUrSE i would.

other than that i like... biting/chewing things... i made sure to never borrow pens or pencils from people because i would beaver the whole way through em

14. what most often distracts you?

literally fuckin everything lol

idk this is probahbly the area of my adhd that manifests the most because what DOESN’t distract me. even if i eliminated internet (social media, messaging, memes, photos, clocks/timers, what have you) i am eternally able to distract myself by anything in my immediate surroundings, or if i am being tested, the software or materials being used to test me

i remember i took a final in precalculus several summers ago and half in hour into the test realized i did not know any of the answers and part of me wanted to break down and cry for the rest of my time remaining, but the more rational half of my brain broke through and instead i spent two hours drawing an elephant on the back of the testing booklet with a hastily scribbled “sorry i failed this class” note. give me a pencil and paper and i Will be able to entertain myself for any period of time

#analogromeo #ask

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musashi · 6 years

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I meant since in your previous post a day ago you said you originally didn't like AG/DP/May/Dawn/Harley, etc. and now you do, since you're only 22 now, most of those seasons aired when you were a kid. Whereas a lot of us who were already teens or in our 20's when they aired, enjoyed them quicker because as adults we understand the development and characterisation the writers were giving those characters that little kids may not have been aware of. I guess?

I actually LOVED AG as a kid! It was the first time I’d loved Pokemon so hard since the 90s. Sapphire was my first real pokemon game, so when I caught the first episode of AG and saw Professor Birch getting chased around by a poochyena, I was all hand flaps and excited squeals because JUST LIKE IN THE GAMES!!!! I’d been drawing scenes from my journey in Hoenn in my sketchbook and never considered that the anime would make those worlds for me. What’s more, May and I were the spitting image of each other, from our personalities to our starter pokemon right down to the red bandanna I always wore, so I latched onto her pretty much instantly. My hatred for Harley was because I was May xD I hated Drew too! AG was a huge comfort for me, I watched it every single morning before I went to school, and it was airing during a really uplifting transitory period of my life.

My dislike for AG didn’t come until I was like... 17, 18? I wanted to go back and rewatch it, because I was at the PEAK of aching for home sweet Hoenn, and because I had recently fallen back in love with Rocketshipping. Buuuut the problem was, the early pacing of AG annoys the HELL out of me, it seems. I really disliked Team Rocket at the time, because they were so boringly routine--get in, motto, funny quip, robot, haha its thunder proof, oh no you figured something out, yana kanji--and I was kinda like... these are my favourite characters, you could be doing so much more with them!! Then they tease this idea that oh we’re gonna let Jessie be a Coordinator, but she never wins a single contest on Hoenn soil. That bugged me a lot. The other thing that bugged me was how long Ash spent on Dewford training for his rematch with Brawly--I was so tired of them being there, it was such an uneventful island in the games, I just wanted them to move on so I could see all the other places I love.

So THAT was why I disliked AG--because I quit like. Not even 50 episodes in, my patience too thin. It wasn’t until I revisited it at age 20 with the mindset “Im gonna watch the whole pokeani!” that I learned to appreciate it, because I was just taking it at my own pace and enjoying the ride. And the only ONLY reason I still hated Harley during that run through was because, without oversharing too much, I was dating and watching it with someone who intimidated me a lot with perceived threat of abandonment, so I was constantly afraid to disagree with him on anything he had strong or hyperbolic opinions about. And he fucking hated Harley. He hated Harley so much that he had to mention it literally every time the dude was onscreen.

DP and Dawn were a different story--As a kid, I fell out of love with them because I was disenchanted by the voice actor switch. That’s it. I’m autistic, I can’t handle change at ALL. It made me so frustrated and angry as a kid I actually cried over it. Paul was also a factor, I was a kid who came from abuse, and seeing how Paul treated Chimchar triggered me so bad that I ended up unable to watch a lot of episodes of DP. Beyond that, I didn’t want to say goodbye to May, because it felt like saying goodbye to a part of myself. So I just don’t think DP ever stood a chance, with little me. I had to come back to it when I was stronger, when I had more time to heal.

Kids are smarter than we give them credit for. They know when a story is a story! At age 9, I was writing whole universes, and I had flowcharts and character maps of the development I wanted those characters to go through. I would infodump for HOURS to my best friend about my meta on Inuyasha and why he was one of the best written characters of my childhood. When scary things would happen in a movie, my sister would cry, and I would say “Its ok, they’re the main characters. They’ll make it out ok.”

I can tell you exactly why I had certain opinions, at any point in my life! I have a photographic memory, and I am very self-aware. Most of the time, everything I do and feel has incredibly deep reason, or at the very least, understandable reason.

#wendy rambles #Anonymous #wendy answers

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kittodekiru · 6 years

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tagged by: @remthebombshell thank you !!!

rule 1: tag 9 people you want to know better but i ain’t doing that bc i’m tired and i don’t even know if i know nine people on here-

rule 2: bold the statements that are true.

APPEARANCE

- i am 5'7 or taller 5′10″ / 178-ish (fun fact i’m the same height as nezumi)

- i wear glasses

- i have at least one tattoo

- i have at least one piercing

- i have blonde hair

- i have brown eyes

- i have short hair unfortunately i still haven’t bleached it white,,, shame on me

- my abs are at least somewhat defined i’m literally a twig

- i have or had braces

PERSONALITY:

- i love meeting new people

- people tell me i am funny

- helping others with their problems is a big priority of mine i just,, kinda do it when i can; i can’t really afford to prioritize others’ problems rn, i’m not well enough

- i enjoy physical challenges

- i enjoy mental challenges

- i am playfully rude to people I know i wish i could banter well, but i really can’t make myself do it,, (i think it’s bc i’ve been bullied so badly in the past)

- i started saying something ironically and now i can’t stop saying it

- there is something i would change about my personality the neeDINESS GEEZ

ABILITY:

- i can sing well when there’s pressure to sing in front of people i can’t do it on key for some reason, and i’m not trained to sing, but i like to think i have a nice voice

- i can play an instrument haven’t played seriously in years but i can still play piano pretty well

- i can do over 30 pushups without stopping nOPE

- i am a fast runner

- i can draw well

- i have a good memory ha,,, haha,,,

- i am good at doing math in my head

- i can hold my breath underwater for over a minute

- i have beaten at least 2 people arm wrestling

- i can make at least 3 recipes from scratch

- i know how to throw a proper punch

HOBBIES:

- i enjoy sports

- i’m on a sports team at my school or somewhere else

- i’m in a orchestra or choir at my school or somewhere else

- i have learned a new song in the past week

- i exercise at least once a week

- i have gone for runs at least once a week in warmer months

- i have drawn something in the past month good lord do i ever stop drawing, that’s the real question here

- i enjoy writing

- fandoms are my #1 priority

- i do some form of martial arts

EXPERIENCES:

- i have had my first kiss it’s a cute-ass story, imo, i’ll probably use it for writing someday

- i have had alcohol

- I have scored a winning point in a sport

- i have watched an entire tv series in one sitting dunno if this counts but i watched the second season of owari no seraph in one sitting lol, not a great decision but i’m impressed by myself

- i have been at an overnight event

- i have been in a taxi

- i have been in the hospital or er in the past year

- i have beaten a video game in one day

- i have visited another country

- i have been to one of my favorite bands’ concerts i haven’t even ever been to a “real” concert lmao (unless you count pokemon symphonic, but that’s more like the symphony)

MY LIFE:

- i have one person that I consider to be my best friend love you @neenfiles

- i live close to my school/work

- my parents are still together

- i have at least one sibling i have five lol

- i live in the united states #regret

- there is snow where i live right now

- i have hung out with a friend in the past month thank you @just-a-space-duck !!

- i have a smart phone

- i own at least 15 cds

- i share my room with someone

RELATIONSHIPS:

- i am in a relationship

- i have a crush on a celebrity

- i have a crush on someone I know oh boy, if you had asked me this a few months ago,,

- i’ve been in at least 3 relationships

- i have never been in a relationship

- i have admitted my feelings to a crush i’m so bad at holding things in l ma o

- i get crushes easily fixations? ye, crushes not so much

- i have had a crush for over a year the first person i dated i crushed on for like,,, forever; that’s a cute story, too

- i have been in a relationship for over a year just barely lol

- i have had feelings for a friend demiromantic kinda entails it lma o

RANDOM:

- i have break-danced

- i know a person named Jamie

- i have had a teacher that has a name that is hard to pronounce

- i have dyed my hair

- i’m listening to a song on repeat right now

- i have punched someone in the past week

- i know someone who has gone to jail it was as a school assignment; she wasn’t actually, well, an inmate lol

- i have broken a bone

- i have eaten a waffle today

- i know what I want to do in life oH FUCK NO LOLOLOL

- i speak at least two languages

- i have made a new friend in the past year

thanks again for tagging aleksandra !! this was fun !!

#about #reblog memes

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thetakenpokemon · 7 years

Text

Final Memory of Asmund

This is the final memory, oh reader mine.

With this knowledge, do you feel...enlightened?

What you have learned from these memories, remember them. Make them your own.

This is knowledge you would have never obtained.

That is why it is a gift.

No price... No strings attached...

...For now at least.

My kindness is not without limits, oh reader mine.

Eventually...there will be a price for the information you so desire.

A price...that you may not be able to pay.

[T̨̛͜͞҉H̵̕E̡͟ ̴͟͝͞F̴̧̨́Į̵́҉Ń̵A̧̧L͞҉ ̢̀͘͜͡M̸̨͘͝E͏̧M̸̧͢͜͠Ò̴R̶͝͏̷͠Y̵ ͘H̵̡̧͏A̵͢͠S̸̷͘͜ ̵͢A̶̵̶̛͟R̵̷R̢͠͞͡Í̴̛͜͜V҉̨͡E̢D͘͜ ͠͠F̡̢̀̕͟R͞͝O҉̸̵̡͜M͏҉҉͞ ̡͘͝T̡̧͠H̷́͠͝E̕͢ ͜͜V͘͜E̵͘͜͟͜I̴̢̡͝L]

[Location: Y̴̨̡̧͡o̵̵҉̕u̕͝ ̢͝m̢̛͡a̛͡͏y̸̕ ̴̸̢̡p̸͏̛̛̀o̡͏͞͝s̵̀s̷̶҉̵̢i̷̧̧͟͜b̢͝҉͠l̵͟y̢҉͏̨́ ̸̶̢̧ņ̧̀͝è̷v͟͝e̕͘ŕ̶͞ ҉̕͏͏k̵̸͘͢͡n̶̸̷o̷͞͝͝͞w͘͝,͏̕͟ ̸̸̛͘ò̴̸͜h̸̨̢̨̕ ̡̀b͏̶̢͜é̢͞a͢͝r̷͢͝͞è̡̡̕ŗ̷̢͠͞ ̷̧̀͝m҉̀͢͠į̶̵n̡̕҉͝e] [PoV: Asmund]

The screams...they echo around me.

After I crushed the Gothitelle’s head like a rotten grape, I immediately began to enact my vengeance.

Marie and the Hypno had the misfortune of being next to me, however the damn Delphox instead turned tail to leave her companion to me.

The Hypno’s death was quick, for when you get punched in a head with the force of a train...it causes your neck to snap after your skull gets caved in from the force.

Some Pokemon in the crowd made the decision to run, while others...made the decision to attack.

A Raichu lets loose a discharge of electricity, the bolt of lightning striking me square in the chest. However I stand unmoving as the enchantments activate, the red aura ripples as it causes the energy to harmlessly wash over me.

These enchantments...they were designed specifically for energy-based abilities of Pokemon.

Whether it be fire, lighting, psychic power, raw plasma...they do very little to me. The enchantments creates a barrier of sorts the moment they come in contact with my body, causing it to ‘wash off’ while not even leaving a mark.

Because of this, it grants me what may be considered an immunity to said attacks. However physical strikes and attacks that impede movement...that is a different matter that even these enchantments can’t deflect.

Taking advantage of the Raichu’s confusion I bullcharge him, within seconds I close the distance and strike down with my fist like a hammer. With a loud crunch I easily split the rodent’s head open, killing him instantly.

I feel something strike me on the back of one of my legs, although I didn’t feel any pain from the attack...it hit me with enough force to cause me to stumble slightly.

Without even looking I twist my body and sweep with my cannon, the action caught whatever the Pokemon was and sent them sprawling to the ground. Once I got a good look at it I recognized it to be a female Machoke, now sporting a very nasty wound on the side of her head.

Not paying much heed I simply approach the Pokemon...and walk on her body. All it took was one step from my foot to crush her chest, fating her to an agonizingly slow death of suffocation due to her crushed lungs.

A loud roar catches my attention, but before I could turn to see what the source is I feel something large charge right into me. Much to my surprise the force wis strong enough to completely knock me over on my stomach, causing my body to hit the stone with a loud crash.

The hit definitely left a dent on my back, but due to how...different this body works I simply knew it was there instead of feeling pain. I press my hands into the stone to pick myself back up, but the same Pokemon hits me again with the same amount of force...once again sending me to the ground.

With an annoyed growl I turn my head to see what the hell is strong enough to do this to me, when I did in fact see it...I was unsurprised to see that it’s a male Rhydon.

“I AM GOING TO KILL YOU, HUMAN!” He roars, his eyes burning with rage and hatred.

Heh...

Human...

...

My gaze turns to my cannon, remembering I actually have the thing. From my knowledge of my form, I can command the pistons in the ammo compartment to load a cannonball into it...then launch it at very high velocity.

With only a thought one of said cannonballs loads into the cannon with a loud clacking sound, thus arming the deadly weapon.

“Human?” I repeat slowly, my voice only containing a fraction of the burning furnace within me. “I...am no human anymore, only the one who will deliver the inevitable.”

The Rhydon’s eyes narrow, with another loud roar he charges me again with the intent of smashing into me for a third time.

But I won’t allow it.

I aim my cannon and fire, with a loud hiss the metal projectile launches from the barrel and strikes the Rhydon straight in the chest. The force of the hit immediately sends the Pokemon toppling to the ground, their momentum making them slide a good distance before slowing to a stop.

As I stand, I notice that the Pokemon isn’t dead. Hell...all the hit did was leave a large dent in their tough hide.

Rhydons really are tough Pokemon to kill.

But I don’t intend to leave a job unfinished, so I’m going to end it before he gathers his senses.

With a growl I push myself up back to my feet and proceed to approach the fallen Drill Pokemon. Once I reach them I grab their body and flip them onto their back, exposing their damaged chest.

I raise a fist to deliver a punch...but I stop. I glance at my arm, noticing that it possesses pistons. Upon digging deeper on its inner mechanics...I realize that the purpose of the pistons is to forcefully extend my arm forward with the force of a ‘rocket punch’, essentially allowing it to strike much harder than this body is capable of.

And seeing how a single punch can kill a normal Pokemon instantly, this piston-operated punch would be considered overkill.

But for a Rhydon? It will do...just...nicely.

Aiming the fist at the Pokemon’s chest I activate the pistons, with a loud hiss my fist extends faster than the eye could blink.

BOOM

The Rhydon’s body jerks violently and the ground beneath him to cracks due to the shock of the impact, his mouth opens to let out a loud cry of pain...for I can only imagine how much that hit hurt.

He tries to swat me away, but I use my cannon to pin him to the ground. This is a Rhydon after all, so it will take more...than one hit to kill him.

His fate is to die.

To die under...my...fist.

The pistons pull my extended fist back into its original length, but the second they were primed...I let it loose again.

And again.

With each hit the Pokemon’s body leaves a deeper imprint in the stone, their own hide cracks further and further with each consecutive strike.

On the fourth hit, I break straight through their chest and crush their rib-cage...along with all of the organs inside.

He lets out a sickly gurgle when blood starts pooling in his mouth, the sign that he’s no longer long with the world.

Retracting my gore-covered fist I stand back up, my gaze turning to my surroundings.

The Pokemon...almost all of them are running now, after witnessing my capabilities...they knew that to fight me would only end one way.

Death.

Except...several seem to not have realized it yet.

I see a group of five Pokemon charging straight at me, either crackling with energy or wielding some sort of natural weapon they possess.

I could meet them head on, to use my superior strength to crush each and every single one of them.

But there is one weapon I haven’t used yet.

The nozzles on my cannon.

At first I didn’t know what they did, but that was before these fuckers fused my soul to to this machine.

Now? I know what they do.

Their purpose is to draw water from the tank on my back and unleash jets of super-heated steam, steam at temperatures so high that it would kill most individuals instantly.

So when these five Pokemon charge me? I simply aim my cannon...and activate the boiler.

With a loud hiss the four nozzles unleash a massive jet of steam, unable to stop their momentum the five Pokemon run straight into the super-heated vapor...

...And scream as their bodies are literally cooked alive.

When the cloud cleared, all I saw were five burned corpses. If I were capable of smelling, I feel that I perhaps would’ve smelled something akin to a well-done steak.

...

How many have I killed now...?

...

Nine Pokemon...

...

Nine Pokemon...all by myself.

...

Heh...

And yet I’m not finished.

All of them will die.

All of them.

By my hand.

...

No Pokemon were spared, each one I encountered...I showed them the mercy that they showed me.

Which is none.

Their deaths were either crushed by my foot, turned to paste by my piston-propelled fist, cooked alive by my steam, or blown to pieces by my cannon if.

But I used my cannon sparingly, since my ammo was limited to five shots. I shot it three times now, so I intend to keep the other two shots for when I need them.

IF I need them.

With no effort I tear the head off of a Blaziken who tried to fight back, tossing it aside as their body spasms before collapsing.

I take no care to step over the corpse as I walk past, instead I let my heavy foot crush their chest for further measure.

My cold gaze surveys my surroundings, looking for another sheep to slaughter. But the numbers have steadily grown smaller, either by dying to my hand...or running through the path out of the ruins.

I considered chasing after the fleeing Pokemon...but my eyes fall upon a certain Pokemon laying at what I can assume is some ‘medical camp’.

The Pokemon is the Zoroark, Zoey. One of the Pokemon responsible for my torment...

...And the one I’ve nearly beaten to death with my own two fists as a Human.

Feeling a sick glee well inside me I approach her fallen form.

Her head is covered almost completely in bandages, leaving only her nose and mouth exposed so that she could breath.

I remember that the Houndoom was in charge of bringing her here for medical attention, however I ALSO remember that I killed him when he tried running away from me.

He was responsible for me using my second shot of my cannon.

His death...was certainly swift.

The Zoroark is clearly unconscious, even after prodding her a few times she doesn’t stir.

...Disappointing, I was hoping for her to witness the one that will purge her from this world.

...

No matter...

She will die anyways.

My giant hand grabs her fallen frame and lifts her into the air effortlessly, although I considered crushing her like many others...I had a different idea in mind.

A more...satisfying way to kill her.

I angle her downwards, lining my fist with the ground.

I am going to activate my pistons in my arm to slam her straight into the stone. With a force of such magnitude, I wouldn’t be surprised if she exploded.

With a single thought I prepare the pistons to activate...and with them primed I couldn’t help but smile internally.

This is the fate for scum.

To die...brutally...

“STOP!”

...What?

I turn my head to the source of the voice, my angering flaring. Who has the NERVE to tell me to stop? What damn Pokemon thinks that-

My thoughts immediately halt when my eyes fall upon a black and gray Delphox.

No...a black Delphox accompanied by many other Pokemon.

What makes them stand out however is that they’re wearing peculiar clothing, all of them having a color-scheme of colors I’d associate with dusk.

Another thing I notice is that with them are several Pokemon I recognize as part of the Gothitelle’s damn group, except that they’re bound in chains.

“It is over.” The black Delphox says slowly yet calmly, her face holding a calm yet wary expression that’s nearly devoid of emotion.

...Over?

“We have captured the ones who’ve attempted to flee.” She continues, the green flames burning on the tip of her staff casting an eerie yet majestic glow. “They have...told us of what happened.” Although her expression only shows that of wariness, I could see...empathy leak into her eyes. “We know what has happened, the dark fate they have brought to your soul.”

...

So they are not with them...

She gestures with a hand to the rest of the Pokemon garbed in similar attire as her. “We are the Guardians of Twilight, a Guild who’s purpose is to find and bring down monsters and Pokemon of dark intentions.” She warily looks at the Zoroark in my grasp. “So please...release her, they shall all receive judgement for their crimes.”

...

No...

“Judgement?!” I shout, the sheer power in my voice causing all of the Pokemon to flinch.

My grip tightens on the Zoroark, I feel liquid start dripping down my fingers as they effortlessly dig into her flesh.

“No...” I growl darkly. “Their judgement is for me to deliver, for THEY are the ones who have committed ATROCITIES against ME!” I shake my head slowly. “No... They have tormented me, starved me of food, and then...MURDERED me.” I shake my head once again, but more frantically. “Andt they didn’t stop there, no...they imprisoned my soul into this body with the intentions of enslaving me.”

I let out a dark laugh. “Their judgement is not for you to decide.”

The Delphox’s eyes widen at this, she immediately opens her mouth to shout for me to stop...

...but the words die as I activate the pistons...and propel the Zoroark straight into the ground with enough force to shatter rock.

Her death...

...was messy.

The sheer amount of shock on the Delphox’s face is more emotion than I’ve ever seen on her, her mouth could only open and close silently...as if unable to form any words.

But slowly...her shock faded...and her eyes narrow with cold determination.

“Now...” I continue, my voice betraying the satisfaction I’m feeling. “I will ask this once, so listen...closely.” I take a step forward, a loud squelching sound is heard as my foot crushes what’s left of the Zoroark’s organs. “You will bring your prisoners to me, for I will deliver the fate that they deserve.” I aim my cannon at the group, causing them all to tense. “Fail to do this...” If I could smile, I would be grinning a sadistically. “...You should have a good idea.”

The Delphox merely shakes her head, with a soft breath through her nose she takes a bold step towards me. “We will do no such thing.” She says firmly, her face unwavering.

"Then...” I hiss, loading a cannonball with a loud clack. “You shall suffer the same fate as the-.....................................................................................

...

This is as much as I can give you, oh reader mine.

There is a limit to how much can be taken from beyond the veil at a given time.

To have retrieved this much...we are very fortunate.

These memories...they will fade away, never to return.

So I hope you have learned well, oh reader mine.

For this knowledge of Asmund, never would you have learned it in such detail.

Cherish this gift...cherish and learn from it.

...

I know you desire to learn of how it ends...

...But the memories are gone now, never to be seen again.

If you truly wish to learn the rest...

...You will have to find other ways to obtain such knowledge...

...Oh reader mine.

#asmund #???#plot #act 2

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