Are you planning on going to any pride events this month? What sort of events is the city even having?
good timing. just got back from "pride in the park", the first of a few celebrations in MPC. rate the fit.
anyway. you'll never guess who was there supervising.
aaand Roman's fan club was there. as you can see, they were having a great time. apparently it's Roman's birthday? who knew. who cares.
if you missed it, don't worry. you have pride prom, drag brunch, a parade, ride for pride(biking?), competitive pride eating(hotdogs???), and more i'm sure i'm forgetting.
[OOC: Happy pride month, but MORE IMPORTANTLY, happy 1 month anniversary! hero spotter virgil is one(1) month old! we didn't give up after a week! go us! lets hope we last another month!!!!
to celebrate, enjoy a post with art. ft mod self inserts as the fan club members. we are Romans biggest fans.
thanks to everyone who got even an infinitesimal amount of joy from this. its so fun to run this thing.]
Roman's throat was hoarse, and he clenched his fists to stop his hands from shaking. He breathed heavily, taking in what had become of Creativity'sā of his room. Everything had changed.
It was like someone put a gray scale filter over his eyes. Roman's room was destroyed, like all of the color had been sucked out and replaced with a sea of grays. The small platform stage in Creativity's corner was dim, the flashing neon sign spelling out his name dull. The stars he stuck to his walls and furniture were peeling, a few scattered on the floor next to him. His frames, once depicting musical posters and the odd art piece, were empty. It was this last detail that worried him the most; if his art was gone, what about the rest of his projects?
Roman stepped down the stairs, shuffling to his desk where a collection of journals sat. He snatched one up, flipping through its pages to find them blank. A sinking feeling grew in his chest as he looked through another journal, and then a third. They were all blank, the lined pages taunting him, and causing Roman's hands to shake.
When another star fell off the wall behind his desk, Roman slammed his journal down. "Enough!" he yelled to the empty room. "I've had enough!"
"Roman?"
Roman's head snapped to the direction of Virgil's voice, and much to his dismay, Virgil had risen up on his stage. "What do you want?!" Roman groaned, scrunching his nose.
"I wanted to check on you," Virgil started, his face growing more unsettled as he looked to the room. "What happenedā?"
Roman's lip quivered. "It's gone," he wailed irritably, choking down further sobs. He turned his back in a pathetic attempt to hide the tears forming in his eyes. "I can't believe its gone!"
"Oh," Logan stated as he suddenly rose up. Roman was quick to wipe his eyes and turn around. Logan brushed his hand against his mouth, an awestruck look in his eyes as he spun around the space. He shared a sympathetic look with Romanā at least, it seemed sympathetic for his standards.
"It appears your room is disconnected from your being," Logan spoke softly.
"How do I fix it?" Roman asked anxiously. "How do I get my stuff back?"
"It cant be fixed immediately."
"Why not?!" Roman demanded aggressively.
"It won't be permanent" Logan offered comfortingly, making Roman huff. "This switch will wear off on its own, but in the meantime we need to reconnect your rooms. Creativity's room is looking to match the needs of the acting Creativity. Seeing as we're not standing on one of Remus's creations, that would leaveā"
"Me."
Roman glanced at Virgil, who, despite not seeming very phased by this realization, held a sudden nervous energy. Roman latched onto that feeling for a moment, the air around him growing cold, andā
"I don't want be Creativity."
Sure, those were the words that left Virgil's mouth, but the internal monologue that was now invading Roman's head read more like "I can't be creativity." It was a jumbled mess of a thing, the feelings of dread and fearful incompetency phasing through Roman instantly. He all but squirmed in the anxious soup he had seemingly channeled into, it fading just as quickly as it had come.
"What exactly do you need me to do?" Virgil asked.
"Step into the center of the room," Logan instructed.
Virgil did as he was told, though there was a hesitance in his stride. He looked to Roman and Logan expectantly. "Okay. What now?"
"Close your eyes. We're going to test if the room is connected to you."
ā¦
"This can't be happening," Roman said under his breath as Virgil closed his eyes. He was noticeably irritated, an underlying trembling echo in his voice. Virgil found it worrisome, giving Roman a squinty glance before shutting his eyes again.
"Try to envision a space where you could be comfortable working and living in."
Virgil sucked air between his teeth and paused.
"We're waiting," Roman said impatiently.
Virgil resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I'm drawing a blank."
"Just envision any sort of living space. Don't overthink it," Logan encouraged.
He let out a long sigh. "I don't 'do' creativeā¦ ness."
"You better figure it out," Roman huffed. "This is really easy stuff. If you can't do this, we may just give up entirelyā"
"Romanā"
"Sorry."
Virgil fought back a scoff. Okay, maybe he wasn't as worried for Roman anymore.
He took a deep breath, and tried to envision a "comfortable" space, which felt incredibly arbitrary. What was comfortable? Dim lighting and spider curtains?
There was a sudden pop, and Virgil opened his eyes. The curtains were suddenly a violently vibrant shade of purple, standing out next to the rest of the colorless room. The pattern morphed to add black spiders and webs over its surface, before the shapes and textures faded back to a depressing gray. The curtains disappeared with a sparkly snap, and Virgil couldn't help but feel he offended the room somehow.
Roman cackled, and Virgil turned to glare at him. "This isn't easy for me, you know!"
"This should be easy for you!" Roman clapped-back, making Virgil's face burn. "This is basic stuff! Can you actually try this time?"
"There's no need for that," Logan scolded, staring at Roman in disbelief.
Virgil fought the urge to grind his teeth. "You're being a prick," he said venomously.
"And you're being incompetent."
"I'm trying. If you're not going to be helpful can you justā"
"You're starting too big," Roman interrupted, the statement phrased like it was obvious. "And way too specific with it too. You're going to overload the room with demands like that."
"Helpful," Virgil snarked. "What am I supposed to do then?!"
"Start smaller, duh!"
"Why are you justā so vague?!"
"Oh my godā" Roman waved his hand, only to stare at it in disbelief. He did the motion once more, before groaning and pulling at one of his notebooks and a pen.
"You need to start small," he said again, sketching a square and turning it around to Virgil. "See this? This is the bones, you build onto it, you can't just start drawing a house without the initial structure. The room should know where to connect the dots, let it do some of the work."
"So I just have to go off vibes?!"
"Yes. If it helps, think of something Thomas would like."
"Something Thomas would like?" Virgil echoed. He forced himself back into a relaxed stance, folding his hands and bringing his fingers to his lips. Focus, he told himself. Think comfortable thoughts.
Virgil kept his eyes closed, even though he was curious about all the sudden sporadic popping sounds from around the room. His mental visualization had been simplified considerably, the details slimmed down to vague concepts of glow in the dark stars and a purple "vibe." He was half worried the room wouldn't know how to use this information, but the continuous pops were comforting enough.
"Fascinating," Logan breathed out, and Virgil couldn't resist anymore. He took a peek out of one eye, and his mouth fell open.
The room had been transformed. Plush purple pillows sat on black leather couches, flannel blankets resting over the back of it. The empty portrait frames were suddenly filled with Nightmare Before Christmas posters. The curtains over the sliding glass door weren't purple or covered in spiders, but instead black with a swirling design across them.
Roman's stage was gone. It was replaced with a wide flat screen and fancy-looking TV stand with silver knobs. To the right of it sat a beanbag chair, a few sketchbooks littering the floor around it. Virgil turned to the dining area, spying a stool and blank canvas sitting on an easel.
Every single one of Roman's wooden star decals were replaced with plastic glow-in-the-dark stars. The ceiling was littered with them, larger ones drawing out various fake constellations. They were oddly comforting, and Virgil felt himself smiling.
"Okay," He said to himself. "This is pretty swanky."
"Since when do you say swanky," Roman mumbled.
"Since right now, since you have a problem with it."
ā¦
Virgil stared in vacant horror of what had become of his room.
It was less about what had replaced it and more about what was gone. The whole room was decked out in vintage-looking furniture, giving off a vaguely gothic vibe. A grandfather clock stood behind him, the subtle ticks just audible enough to tick him off. The sound irritated him, as his eyes darted between the shifting furniture as Roman waved his hands over and over again to swap out the color schemes or pillows.
It also annoyed him how well Roman was able to manipulate the room. Roman had initially started his reconnection the same way he had instructed Virgil to do so; working off a basic structure and letting the room connect the dots. But it seemed so easy for him. Roman put such little effort into the act, keeping his eyes open as he pushed the room for changes, muttering short "no's" or "absolutely not's" under his breath. He barely blinked, huffing dramatically when he was satisfied with some aspect of it before shifting to the next. Logan stood in silent observation, his arms crossed across his chest, and occasionally making eye contact with Virgil.
But the thing that really irritated Virgil the most was the depressing lack of spider-centric decor. Specifically, Roman insisted on removing the cobwebs and spiderwebs. Virgil had quickly conjured an enclosure for his now houseless jumping spider, Marcus, who darted beneath some foliage the moment he could.
He sighed heavily and flopped against the loveseat Roman had changed four times. "Could it kill you to leave a spider web up for Marcus?"
Roman scrunched his nose. "Absolutely NOT! If I have to stay in here, your pet is leaving!"
"They're harmless," Virgil said wearily. "Marcus especially. If you're going to worry about any of them, let it be Gwen."
"Gwen?!"
"She's my tarantulaā"
"WHERE," Roman shrieked, his room decorating suddenly forgotten. He spun around the room with haste. "Find the hairy beast and get rid of it!"
Virgil raised his eyebrows. "I thought you weren't afraid of spiders."
"Silly cartoon ones, maybe!" Roman squealed as he rubbed his arms.
"I was just teasing," Virgil said with annoyance. "She's a sweetheart."
"Is this your arachnid?" Logan pointed to the stairs, making Roman flinch away.
Virgil leaped up. "Gwen!" He cried, scooping his fuzzy friend in his palm. "Did you shed again, sweetie? You're looking gorgeous."
"Are you baby talking a spider?!" Roman said, cringing.
"Don't you judge me, Mr. 'Talks to his plush before he goes to sleep!' She's my baby!"
Roman scoffed and stuttered, his face flushing. "Who told you I did that?!"
"Remus." Virgil stuck out his tongue. "He had proof too, you dork!"
Logan sighed and rubbed his temples. "If you are done, I'd like to discuss something with Virgil."
Virgil grimaced, his heart palpitating as he cradled Gwen a little closer. Roman eyed him curiously for a moment, before chuckling lightly.
"Interesting," he said, a slight flicker of ominousness in his tone. "Virgil, your eye make up is awfully dark right now."
Virgil did a double take and grimaced. "Why are you talking like that?"
"Talking like what?"
"Yes," Logan said with a sigh. "Roman is correct. Virgil, we will discuss this elsewhere."
They sunk down back to Creativity's room, and Virgil conjured a second enclosure for Gwen and gently set her inside.
"You're taking this rather well," Logan commented, and Virgil turned around with slight unease.
"Thank youā¦?" He replied slowly, waiting.
"I need you to watch Roman."
There it is.
"What, like his baby-sitter?" Virgil said with a scoff, hands placed on his hips. "That's ridiculous. Why can't we justā I don't know, quarantine ourselves and wait this out!"
"Roman seems to beā"
"An irritable prick."
"I was going to say unstable, but I guess that description is accurate."
"Unstable?" Virgil echoed.
"I don't know how this will impact either of you" Logan continued. "Long-term, I mean. Not to mention, the affect this will have on Thomas could be disastrous. It would be beneficial to know there's someone capable of being level headed watching him while I try to maintain everyday functions."
Virgil suddenly thought back to yesterday with Roman's lash out at the group, and sighed heavily. "Fine," he said reluctantly. "I guess I can do that."
"Be in touch. Let me know if there is any severe personality changes, or other side effects."
"Ha," Virgil said with a raised eyebrow. "'Side' effects?"
Logan sighed and gave him a deadpan stare.
"Okay," Virgil shrugged. "I'll go drag him out of myā Anxiety's room, I guess."
Roman's throat was hoarse, and he clenched his fists to stop his hands from shaking. He breathed heavily, taking in what had become of Creativity'sā of his room. Everything had changed.
It was like someone put a gray scale filter over his eyes. Roman's room was destroyed, like all of the color had been sucked out and replaced with a sea of grays. The small platform stage in Creativity's corner was dim, the flashing neon sign spelling out his name dull. The stars he stuck to his walls and furniture were peeling, a few scattered on the floor next to him. His frames, once depicting musical posters and the odd art piece, were empty. It was this last detail that worried him the most; if his art was gone, what about the rest of his projects?
Roman stepped down the stairs, shuffling to his desk where a collection of journals sat. He snatched one up, flipping through its pages to find them blank. A sinking feeling grew in his chest as he looked through another journal, and then a third. They were all blank, the lined pages taunting him, and causing Roman's hands to shake.
When another star fell off the wall behind his desk, Roman slammed his journal down. "Enough!" he yelled to the empty room. "I've had enough!"
"Roman?"
Roman's head snapped to the direction of Virgil's voice, and much to his dismay, Virgil had risen up on his stage. "What do you want?!" Roman groaned, scrunching his nose.
"I wanted to check on you," Virgil started, his face growing more unsettled as he looked to the room. "What happenedā?"
Roman's lip quivered. "It's gone," he wailed irritably, choking down further sobs. He turned his back in a pathetic attempt to hide the tears forming in his eyes. "I can't believe its gone!"
"Oh," Logan stated as he suddenly rose up. Roman was quick to wipe his eyes and turn around. Logan brushed his hand against his mouth, an awestruck look in his eyes as he spun around the space. He shared a sympathetic look with Romanā at least, it seemed sympathetic for his standards.
"It appears your room is disconnected from your being," Logan spoke softly.
"How do I fix it?" Roman asked anxiously. "How do I get my stuff back?"
"It cant be fixed immediately."
"Why not?!" Roman demanded aggressively.
"It won't be permanent" Logan offered comfortingly, making Roman huff. "This switch will wear off on its own, but in the meantime we need to reconnect your rooms. Creativity's room is looking to match the needs of the acting Creativity. Seeing as we're not standing on one of Remus's creations, that would leaveā"
"Me."
Roman glanced at Virgil, who, despite not seeming very phased by this realization, held a sudden nervous energy. Roman latched onto that feeling for a moment, the air around him growing cold, andā
"I don't want be Creativity."
Sure, those were the words that left Virgil's mouth, but the internal monologue that was now invading Roman's head read more like "I can't be creativity." It was a jumbled mess of a thing, the feelings of dread and fearful incompetency phasing through Roman instantly. He all but squirmed in the anxious soup he had seemingly channeled into, it fading just as quickly as it had come.
"What exactly do you need me to do?" Virgil asked.
"Step into the center of the room," Logan instructed.
Virgil did as he was told, though there was a hesitance in his stride. He looked to Roman and Logan expectantly. "Okay. What now?"
"Close your eyes. We're going to test if the room is connected to you."
ā¦
"This can't be happening," Roman said under his breath as Virgil closed his eyes. He was noticeably irritated, an underlying trembling echo in his voice. Virgil found it worrisome, giving Roman a squinty glance before shutting his eyes again.
"Try to envision a space where you could be comfortable working and living in."
Virgil sucked air between his teeth and paused.
"We're waiting," Roman said impatiently.
Virgil resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I'm drawing a blank."
"Just envision any sort of living space. Don't overthink it," Logan encouraged.
He let out a long sigh. "I don't 'do' creativeā¦ ness."
"You better figure it out," Roman huffed. "This is really easy stuff. If you can't do this, we may just give up entirelyā"
"Romanā"
"Sorry."
Virgil fought back a scoff. Okay, maybe he wasn't as worried for Roman anymore.
He took a deep breath, and tried to envision a "comfortable" space, which felt incredibly arbitrary. What was comfortable? Dim lighting and spider curtains?
There was a sudden pop, and Virgil opened his eyes. The curtains were suddenly a violently vibrant shade of purple, standing out next to the rest of the colorless room. The pattern morphed to add black spiders and webs over its surface, before the shapes and textures faded back to a depressing gray. The curtains disappeared with a sparkly snap, and Virgil couldn't help but feel he offended the room somehow.
Roman cackled, and Virgil turned to glare at him. "This isn't easy for me, you know!"
"This should be easy for you!" Roman clapped-back, making Virgil's face burn. "This is basic stuff! Can you actually try this time?"
"There's no need for that," Logan scolded, staring at Roman in disbelief.
Virgil fought the urge to grind his teeth. "You're being a prick," he said venomously.
"And you're being incompetent."
"I'm trying. If you're not going to be helpful can you justā"
"You're starting too big," Roman interrupted, the statement phrased like it was obvious. "And way too specific with it too. You're going to overload the room with demands like that."
"Helpful," Virgil snarked. "What am I supposed to do then?!"
"Start smaller, duh!"
"Why are you justā so vague?!"
"Oh my godā" Roman waved his hand, only to stare at it in disbelief. He did the motion once more, before groaning and pulling at one of his notebooks and a pen.
"You need to start small," he said again, sketching a square and turning it around to Virgil. "See this? This is the bones, you build onto it, you can't just start drawing a house without the initial structure. The room should know where to connect the dots, let it do some of the work."
"So I just have to go off vibes?!"
"Yes. If it helps, think of something Thomas would like."
"Something Thomas would like?" Virgil echoed. He forced himself back into a relaxed stance, folding his hands and bringing his fingers to his lips. Focus, he told himself. Think comfortable thoughts.
Virgil kept his eyes closed, even though he was curious about all the sudden sporadic popping sounds from around the room. His mental visualization had been simplified considerably, the details slimmed down to vague concepts of glow in the dark stars and a purple "vibe." He was half worried the room wouldn't know how to use this information, but the continuous pops were comforting enough.
"Fascinating," Logan breathed out, and Virgil couldn't resist anymore. He took a peek out of one eye, and his mouth fell open.
The room had been transformed. Plush purple pillows sat on black leather couches, flannel blankets resting over the back of it. The empty portrait frames were suddenly filled with Nightmare Before Christmas posters. The curtains over the sliding glass door weren't purple or covered in spiders, but instead black with a swirling design across them.
Roman's stage was gone. It was replaced with a wide flat screen and fancy-looking TV stand with silver knobs. To the right of it sat a beanbag chair, a few sketchbooks littering the floor around it. Virgil turned to the dining area, spying a stool and blank canvas sitting on an easel.
Every single one of Roman's wooden star decals were replaced with plastic glow-in-the-dark stars. The ceiling was littered with them, larger ones drawing out various fake constellations. They were oddly comforting, and Virgil felt himself smiling.
"Okay," He said to himself. "This is pretty swanky."
"Since when do you say swanky," Roman mumbled.
"Since right now, since you have a problem with it."
ā¦
Virgil stared in vacant horror of what had become of his room.
It was less about what had replaced it and more about what was gone. The whole room was decked out in vintage-looking furniture, giving off a vaguely gothic vibe. A grandfather clock stood behind him, the subtle ticks just audible enough to tick him off. The sound irritated him, as his eyes darted between the shifting furniture as Roman waved his hands over and over again to swap out the color schemes or pillows.
It also annoyed him how well Roman was able to manipulate the room. Roman had initially started his reconnection the same way he had instructed Virgil to do so; working off a basic structure and letting the room connect the dots. But it seemed so easy for him. Roman put such little effort into the act, keeping his eyes open as he pushed the room for changes, muttering short "no's" or "absolutely not's" under his breath. He barely blinked, huffing dramatically when he was satisfied with some aspect of it before shifting to the next. Logan stood in silent observation, his arms crossed across his chest, and occasionally making eye contact with Virgil.
But the thing that really irritated Virgil the most was the depressing lack of spider-centric decor. Specifically, Roman insisted on removing the cobwebs and spiderwebs. Virgil had quickly conjured an enclosure for his now houseless jumping spider, Marcus, who darted beneath some foliage the moment he could.
He sighed heavily and flopped against the loveseat Roman had changed four times. "Could it kill you to leave a spider web up for Marcus?"
Roman scrunched his nose. "Absolutely NOT! If I have to stay in here, your pet is leaving!"
"They're harmless," Virgil said wearily. "Marcus especially. If you're going to worry about any of them, let it be Gwen."
"Gwen?!"
"She's my tarantulaā"
"WHERE," Roman shrieked, his room decorating suddenly forgotten. He spun around the room with haste. "Find the hairy beast and get rid of it!"
Virgil raised his eyebrows. "I thought you weren't afraid of spiders."
"Silly cartoon ones, maybe!" Roman squealed as he rubbed his arms.
"I was just teasing," Virgil said with annoyance. "She's a sweetheart."
"Is this your arachnid?" Logan pointed to the stairs, making Roman flinch away.
Virgil leaped up. "Gwen!" He cried, scooping his fuzzy friend in his palm. "Did you shed again, sweetie? You're looking gorgeous."
"Are you baby talking a spider?!" Roman said, cringing.
"Don't you judge me, Mr. 'Talks to his plush before he goes to sleep!' She's my baby!"
Roman scoffed and stuttered, his face flushing. "Who told you I did that?!"
"Remus." Virgil stuck out his tongue. "He had proof too, you dork!"
Logan sighed and rubbed his temples. "If you are done, I'd like to discuss something with Virgil."
Virgil grimaced, his heart palpitating as he cradled Gwen a little closer. Roman eyed him curiously for a moment, before chuckling lightly.
"Interesting," he said, a slight flicker of ominousness in his tone. "Virgil, your eye make up is awfully dark right now."
Virgil did a double take and grimaced. "Why are you talking like that?"
"Talking like what?"
"Yes," Logan said with a sigh. "Roman is correct. Virgil, we will discuss this elsewhere."
They sunk down back to Creativity's room, and Virgil conjured a second enclosure for Gwen and gently set her inside.
"You're taking this rather well," Logan commented, and Virgil turned around with slight unease.
"Thank youā¦?" He replied slowly, waiting.
"I need you to watch Roman."
There it is.
"What, like his baby-sitter?" Virgil said with a scoff, hands placed on his hips. "That's ridiculous. Why can't we justā I don't know, quarantine ourselves and wait this out!"
"Roman seems to beā"
"An irritable prick."
"I was going to say unstable, but I guess that description is accurate."
"Unstable?" Virgil echoed.
"I don't know how this will impact either of you" Logan continued. "Long-term, I mean. Not to mention, the affect this will have on Thomas could be disastrous. It would be beneficial to know there's someone capable of being level headed watching him while I try to maintain everyday functions."
Virgil suddenly thought back to yesterday with Roman's lash out at the group, and sighed heavily. "Fine," he said reluctantly. "I guess I can do that."
"Be in touch. Let me know if there is any severe personality changes, or other side effects."
"Ha," Virgil said with a raised eyebrow. "'Side' effects?"
Logan sighed and gave him a deadpan stare.
"Okay," Virgil shrugged. "I'll go drag him out of myā Anxiety's room, I guess."
one time thomas said that roman represents his āmore feminineā side of himself, which makes the idea of remus as romanās āfunhouse mirrorā soooo interesting to me
bc i feel like roman is stereotypical āprincessā feminine, frills and glitter and āomg boys!!!ā and singing cute disney songs, a doe eyed optimist that is so innocent they toe the line of naivety
which could make remus the comparison of what people call ādark feminine,ā enraged, bloody, not afraid to scream about sex and murder and rape, able to prey on peopleās biases + ignorance to make something truly horrifying. unapologetically loud, taking up space, seeing the filth of the world and refusing to look away, reveling in challenging societal expectations then laughing as they break them.
they ARE both his āfeminineā side, but one is content to be aurora and the other is thrilled to be maleficent.
losing my fucking mind i got this shirt on thredup bc i thought it was cool only come to find out when it arrives that it's a FUCKING THOMAS SANDERS SHIRT. and even worse upon further research i find out its a sanders sides shirt š
I need some help deciding how to incorporate Pomni and Kinger into the design, and ALSO if anyone has an idea for Ragatha, all I did was use her button eye
ALSO, please ignore my dirty ah table.
I am going to have abstraction eyes across both shoes and both sides. I only doodled a few in the first image bc i forgor
I need some help deciding how to incorporate Pomni and Kinger into the design, and ALSO if anyone has an idea for Ragatha, all I did was use her button eye
ALSO, please ignore my dirty ah table.
I am going to have abstraction eyes across both shoes and both sides. I only doodled a few in the first image bc i forgor
kaledo-art
origamiaround
baratheonpilled
yousharknotpass
ellievsbear
areudirty
theartofmadeline
romaincrisis
