Music for Original Works, A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore and The UnTitledverse. In addition to this is a (extremely rough) Faith Seed art draft for Faithuary, that probably won't be finished this month unfortunately (important IRL stuff consuming my time). Listen and view below the cut:
In Wings And Horns, Xiang Ba'al is a Sloth Demon from the Sloth Ring of Hell, the only son of a Sloth mafia, and yet once Jezebel, a damned soul of a sinner (debatable since she was a young child), entered his life Xiang made the decision to cut ties off with his family to raise the young girl. However, he'd soon be back in a life of action once word of the Gods debating the necessity of a flawed Soulmate System reached Hell, this time as a father/daughter duo with Jezebel, going out of their way to hasten the process of dismantling the Soulmate System in the mortal realms by removing Soul Marks and equivalents off of those less fortunate. He does this as an act of justice for Jezebel, whose death and damnation was related to the failing of the Soulmate System.
"I'm here at the beginning of the end
Oh, the end of infinity with you
I'm here at the beginning of the end
Oh, the end of infinity with you
I'm done with having dreams
The thing that I believe
Oh, you drain all the fear from me
I'm done with having dreams
The thing that I believe
You drain the fear from me
'Cause you're the last of a dying breed
Write our names in the wet concrete
I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me
I'm here in search of your glory
There's been a million before me
That ultra-kind of love
You never walk away from
You're just the last of the real ones!"
In my Fallout 3 WIP called The Waters Of Life Flow, my Lone Wanderer OC Alph Dolen, in addition to Amata Almodovar, end up joining Marissa "Ress" Bishop in her exploration of the Capital Wasteland (or rather, her search for her older half-brother), at first beginning off as reluctant tour guides under a subtle threat of violence, before being strong armed into a traveling trio with Ress as their protection (after she realizes both Alph and Amata aren't locals), and eventually all mellowing out into friendlier and friendlier terms (especially once the duo push past Ress' overconfidence). Ress considers both Alph and Amata, but especially Alph, to be amongst her first and closest true friends. Even years after Amata's murder by Arcane Urias' hand, and the friendship break-up that caused between Ress and Alph, during A Symbol For A Better World (my Fallout 4 WIP), even though Amata's death is a sore spot between them, Ress and Alph still trust one another to help the other out of their boons (especially with Alph being ghoulified by this point). There's a longing between them, of wanting to re-establish their friendship again, but they still have a lot of healing to do (and Ress' mostly involves patricide).
"Switch on the sky, and the stars glow for you
Go see the world 'cause it's all so brand new
Don't close your eyes, 'cause your future's ready to shine
It's just a matter of time before we learn how to fly
Welcome to the rhythm of the night
There's something in the air you can't deny ("Deny!")
It's been fun, but now I've got to go
Life is way too short to take it slow
But before I go and hit the road
I gotta know, till then
When can we do this again? ("Oh oh, oh, oh!")
When can I see you again? ("Oh oh, oh, oh!")
When can we do this again? ("Oh oh, oh, oh!")
I gotta know
When can I see you again? ("When can I see you again?")
Joined at the hip, yeah, your sidekick needs you
Life is a trip, and the road map leads you
Look all around at the mountains you haven't climbed
It's just a matter of time before we learn how to fly
Welcome to the rhythm of the night
There's something in the air you can't deny!" ("Deny!")
By the end of the first half of The UnTitled Ventures saga, Joaquin Lockwood has acquired himself a nice little home with plenty of variety in room mates and familial ties, navigating being the new leader of the Village and slowly helping the Four Lords through their various issues. However, this comes with consequence, namely being that of a deteriorated relationship with Roy Lockwood, Maisie's great uncle, whom still hurts from the loss of Maisie to the BOWs. And when Roy takes Eveline in UnTitled Venture: Old Smoke, Joaquin comes across one of his most daring tests to his character.
"This party's pretty boring
I don't think it's for me
Lucy's already crashed out
She's on the spare settee
This air is getting so thin
Go down, go down, go down
The honey whiskey's kickin'
Go down, go down, go down
I think I better go, before I try something
I might regret, I might regret
I think I better go, before I try something
I might regret, I might regret
Black-hearted angels sunk me
With kisses on my mouth
There's poison in this water
The words are falling out
This air getting so thin
Go down, go down, go down
The honey whiskey's kickin'
Go down, go down, go down
I think I better go, before I try something
I might regret, I might regret
I think I better go, before I try something
I might regret, I might regret
I think I better go, before I try something
I might regret, I might regret
I think I better go, before I try something
I might regret, I might regret
But if you wanna free your body tonight
It's our secret, it's our secret
I think I better go, before I try something
I might regret, I might regret!"
And here's an art snippet for WIP Wednesday, art that is in the really rough stages of drafting right now. It's going to be a piece for Faithuary (the word being "Mantra" joined by the sentence "Truth will set you free"), depicting Faith at the center of the Eden's Gate logo (which in turn is also supposed to be the closest depiction to a "face" for the Voice). Anyway, here's what I've done thus far:
There was a secret Jason had known about Alfred Pennyworth: He was an Elvis fan.
It had been them alone at the manor one uneventful Thursday. A snow day, a normal one without any supervillain intervention, that had cancelled school. Bruce had gone out to run some errand, firmly but kindly telling Jason to stay home. So, bored without school to fill his day, and having already burned through the winter reading list, Jason had gone to bother Alfred. And Alfred had twitched his mustache, looked indiscreetly at all directions before asking Jason if he wanted to learn a secret.
A secret, he insisted, that not even Dick had known. It made Jason all the more interested. One thing he and Alfred could share all on their own. It seemed like a lot of things were “Ah, Master Richard and I once did this” and not “This is a ritual for us two.”
An old record player laid on a wooden end table by Alfred’s window. Alfred reached behind it, to a second hidden drawer that mirrored the one presented at the front. This one opened wider, longer, and from it, slipped a flat square. Elvis Presley’s perfectly coiffed hair and sleepy eyes looked back at Jason.
Jason’s jaw dropped. “No way!” Jason said. “Alfie? You and the King?”
“I suppose that’s one way to put it,” Alfred mused. “But yes, as you say, the King and I.”
Jason grinned, shaking his head. Their freakin’ family. He parked his butt on the end of Alfred’s bed as Alfred slid the record from its paper. He laid it on the platter. When Alfred’s fingers gently took the arm, a light flickered on, and the record began to spin. He placed it on the record and out came a crooning Elvis.
There must be lights burning brighter, somewhere, the King sang. Got to be birds flying higher in a sky more blue
Kyojuro only briefly wakes up in the hospital. He can see a million faces all around him, sees their mouths moving, knows it should be loud. Nothing makes sense. Not the way his little brother is clinging to his hand, or the way Uzui is up in his father’s face. Mitsuri and Shinobu are there, too. Shinobu is ever the picture of calmness, but somehow, Kyojuro feels a sense of anxiety within her. He wants to ask. He wants to reassure Senjuro and Mitsuri. He wants to know why Uzui and his father look close to blows. He opens his mouth and falls asleep.
When Kyojuro is awake again, there is a warmth against his side. It’s Senjuro looking tinier than he should for a twelve year old kid. He’d hit a growth spurt not long ago, outgrew most of his pants in a single night. He’d been embarrassed, amusingly so, worrying on and off in preparation for the sleepover he was set to go to a few nights away. Instead, his little brother is pressed against his side in what seems to be a bed.
Not even his bed.
Everything comes into focus, right from the pulse of pain that staggers across his chest. There’s bandages around his chest, and the steady sound of hospital everywhere around him. The machines, the nurses, the squeaking footsteps, and the scent of it in the air. Senjuro’s friend had once described it perfectly, having been no stranger to it. It’s sadness and medicine and hope. You can never be too sure which one it might be, but it was there, chilling along the rooms.
With great effort, Kyojuro looks down at Senjuro. He’s probably not supposed to be in the bed with him, but there’s a blanket around his shoulders with an embroidered butterfly that tells Kyojuro all he needs to know.
“You’re awake then. Good. Means Senjuro will finally sleep in his own bed.”
Please feel free to come talk to me on how I can improve !
The Precursors had been in his head once. A type of voice he couldn’t quite give words to that echoed across each facet of his brain like goo. It made him feel frozen in molasses at times.
It was a joke on Sam’s part that his gears were turning, working over time, when he got pensive and thoughtful. A little cyborg humor that others were otherwise too afraid to touch. Not Sam, though. If only he knew how on the nose he had been.
It had felt like that with them. The gears turned slowly, struggling at times in thick molasses until they all but stopped.
That had been two years ago now. Two years on top of another two where he’d been missing and then found. A mannequin in the driver’s seat for the Kaiju as they concocted a new plan, a worse one. Why just send monsters to the shores to wipe out their little ant problem? Why not reverse engineer the ants to destroy themselves?
That’s what Bucky had been. He’d risen out of the Arctic, still hooked up to his and Steve’s old Jaeger. Soldat, he’d called her then, her previous name lost under the tides. Half her circuitry was kaiju blood and bone, rerouting the need for a second pilot to keep Bucky functional.
And he’d done that for a while. They sent him to the surface now and then when the humans got too victorious, stealing back stretches of beaches and land that had the precursors gnawing at the chops. The frost still clinging to Soldat’s visor and fingers, parting through ice caps like the spirit of a snowstorm. They’d hammered away at some of the best pilots. Torn them apart and left their bodies in their Jaegers to melt into the seas.
He’d had nightmares since then. Their screams echoing through their conn-pods, and the slow trickle of light in their Jaeger's eyes as it blinked down one last time. They’d made them digital by the time Steve and Sam had finally pried him out of Soldat. It had cost an arm, and countless nights in the science wing, purging the kaiju away.
Bucky crawled in next to Sam, keeping a sliver of space between them. They didn’t touch but the heat radiating off of them both made it feel like maybe they were. The drift was almost like a ghost between them. In his mind’s eye he could see all the tells of Sam’s nervousness. The way his Adam’s apple must be bobbing with a dry swallow; his fingers clammy and restless along the sheets; the way he stared out to the left corner, trying and failing not to blink too much.
- + - + - +
Sam wouldn’t thaw so easily. It wasn’t just a wall he’d put up, it was a maze. Bucky had thought himself pretty good at cards till he’d lost a few hands to Lang. Then he’d realized why it frustrated him more than it should.
Wasn’t that what Sam did, too? Played sleight of hand? Kept people watching one part of himself as he went and hid the other? A shift so fluid and seamless, one might never have known there’d been a Sam who was anything but put together.
In their world, it took very little to break someone apart. They were one fight, one moment, one second away from ruin every time. There weren’t many people who didn’t share some of their sorrow in some way. It’s what made the Drift so unique. What Bucky had come to learn sitting in the science wing listening to Shuri.
The way she could go on for hours about the intricacies they probably hadn’t even unlocked. The technology of the Jaegers paled in comparison to the human element, she had said.
The Drift did things people took years to accomplish: it cut the middle man out.
For all Sam had joked to Bucky on their dry run not to get his old ass lost, they’d both chased the Rabit straight into oblivion. Sam had locked up. They’d run through that last mission in Soldat, watching Riley (...Steve?) being torn away. The dead air sitting on the other side of the cockpit.
“...So, your family had a boat, huh?” Bucky tried.
Sam’s fingers flinched against the bed sheets, but Bucky knew he was listening. He tapped a beat a few inches from Sam’s hand.
“It was nice, from what I saw. Real...home-y. Do you still have it?”
Bucky knew the answer already. A shrimping boat with Paul + Darlene carved into the side, letters faded but the imprint unforgettable. The height chart in the steering room. The glue marks from eager hands who couldn’t find tape to decorate the walls. The mountains of weather-worn photos still locked inside, nestled as safely as it could get in storage. Waiting for a chance to meet safer waters again.
The ache that came with thinking of it wasn’t his, but he held it just the same. Held onto the feelings Sam had willing given in the Drift, despite how tightly he attempted to block it out.
“Kind of,” Sam replied, voice scratchy. Rough. He’d been crying before Bucky had made his way back to their -- Sam’s room. “Can’t exactly go out in the water much these days.”
Bucky huffed a laugh. “Yeah. Not exactly the type of fish you might want to catch.”
A wobbly smile twitched at Sam’s lips. Bucky tapped the beat a little closer. He knew Sam could feel the drag of the sheets drawing taught between their hands.
“Maybe, when we’ve finally won, I can come see it with you. Fix it up. I’ve got some experience with boats.”
Sam glanced at him, definitely smiling a little. “I know.” I saw, went unsaid. Shipyard experience, once upon a time. Two hardheads could probably make sense of one old boat. Maybe.
“I. I’d like that.”
“ ‘Think you’d look good in a different hunk of metal,” Bucky mused. “One that’s got a loss less weapons on it.”
Sam snorted. “You mean, you don’t think a giant rocket powered harpoon would look cool on the boat?”
-
“....Maybe.”
- + - + - +
Bucky laid a hand to Sam's chest, flattening it where he could feel the soft thumping under it. He smiled crookedly.
"You know, all this time I've been in your head and this may be the first time I've seen your heart."
AN:
Looks v bucky centric but its not supposed to be. its messy and just beginning and i’m working on it v slowly so i can enjoy it without my own brain worms. i’m not the best at these chara exploration things but i still give it a try to learn and practice. buuuut its not going to focus so much on the whole kaiju war/fighting thing but more just on. them. and them understanding each other even though the drift tells them everything iiiiiiif that makes sense.
i have a few ideas for jaeger names but suggest any if you want to.
i write really all over the place. so these are random scenes that i jumped around to write and others will. eventually??? hopefully??? get put in. But for nooow i just want to have fun with it.
