#shananana

[terrestrine]

Inktober jour 18 : Shananana... Baaatgiiiirl !

[the-elf-mahat]

FEEEEEEEEEEL

FEEL. -How does your character react to a person’s touch? A random stranger’s? A loved one’s? A friend’s?

Strangers: Was it intentional? if not, no harm no foul. If it was, was it kindly meant? She’d be a bit uncomfortable, but try to exit the situation as gracefully as possible without offending them. Was it something aggressive like grabbing or groping? She’s bristling, ready to spit in their face, and on a bad day might be already going for her knives.

Friends: If they telegraph their intentions clearly, or better yet ask permission, she likes affectionate physical contact from close friends. She might be a bit awkward and stiff because she feels vulnerable, but she would do her best to return the gesture in the same spirit it was given. This all goes out the window if she’s grabbed or held tightly without any prior warning. When she’s calm it’ll piss her off royally, and if she’s not calm, see above re: knives.

Loved Ones: With people she loves, she’s extremely physically expressive. Lots of holding, touching, joined-at-the-hip PDA. However, if a loved one does touch her in a way that sets her off negatively, rather than lashing out she’ll internalize her panic and shame reactions and just kind of shut down and tune out. This has caused Problems™ on occasion.

Thanks fr the ask Shanana!

[the-elf-mahat]

Wildcard. Them excited and nervous.

It was such a ridiculous thing. When she was focused on her work, she could be so intently silent and still that damn butterflies would land on her, even in heated moments. If she was agitated off the clock, though? She was a blur of nervous motion, pacing, fidgeting, raking her hands through her hair, swaying back and forth in the rare moments she could stand still. Pulses of energy spiked through her veins into her skin, like a constant jangling background noise that set her jaw to clenching. If she’d been angry, she’d have punched a wall by then. This wasn’t anger, though.

This was hope.

[the-elf-mahat]

"I feel the need to tell you this above any other. You are going to be an aunt, little sister. To what I have yet to know... but the child grows within me."

Mahat blinked twice, slowly. A barrage of unvoiced questions, comments, and concerns flickered across her features, before dissolving into a broad, bright smile. Her single eye blazed with excitement like a small star. “Fuck, Shana! Tha’s bloody fuckin’ wonnerful, I–know ye wanted–shite!” The elf rubbed the back of her neck, grinning and shaking her head at her own profane inarticulacy. “Congratulations, I mean. Ye’s gonna be a damn fine mum. An’ I intend t’ be th’ best shameful drunken bad influence I kin fer th’ kid.” Her gaze flicked down to the druid’s abdomen, to the barest hint of a curve there that might have been muscle, or something else. “Thank ye fer tellin’ me,” she said softly, halting. “If y’need anythin’–ye or th’ wee un–I’s there.” She met Shanaris’ eye again, her confidence returning along with her smile. “Families oughtta look out fer one another, eh?”

[the-elf-mahat]

Thoughts on Shanaris.

“I’s callin’ ‘er ‘sister’ now, wha’ th’ fuck is wrong wi’ me? I ne’er e’en liked th’ woman, an’ shared blood en’t enou’ reason t’ change ‘ow I feel. But… th’ dinners all t’gether wi’ her an’ me an’ Soapie an’ Jaoyn… they’s nice. An’ she was so happy when I bought ‘er th’ kitten, an’ I kinda… like th’ way we tease each other. She’s funny when she en’t cruel. She’s proud an’ strange an’ I don’ unnerstan’ why but bein’ near ‘er makes me feel safe. She wants me t’ be ‘er family, an’ I want…

I don’ wanna be alone.”

(( @soapiewhitacre mention! ))

[the-elf-mahat]

I tried to find a soap emoji but there wasn't one so... Thots on Sop c:

“Soap… I en’t seen ‘er enou’ lately. ‘S my fault fer no’ yankin’ m’ nose outta th’ paperwork more often. I wonder ‘ow she’s doin’? She seems happier, thank th’ Light, more… at peace. I wonder if she’s still… seein’ shite. Losin’ time, losin’ control. I ‘ope not. ‘Ope she an’ Shana is findin’ wha’ they need in each other.

If ‘er an’ Shana is bonded an’ Shana is m’ sister, kin Sophie be m’ sister as well? Is tha’ how this blood-kin shite works? Heh, tha’d be nice…

Ne’er ‘ad a lil sister afore.”

(( @grannyshanny mention! ))

[the-elf-mahat]

Poor description: Elf with attitude.

Mahat throws her hands up in the air. “Cou’ be bloody anyun! Do I e’en know a single elf wi’ no attitude?! Bah… well, if I ‘ad ta pick one elf wha’ was stuck-up, snider, an’ more intolerable than th’ rest… tha’d be m’ sister Shanaris.” The elf grins, briefly and fondly. “She’s awful.”

[the-elf-mahat]

Pain Redefined by Disturbed. You can't escape the Metal, babe.

(( LET THE AU SHENANIGANS ENSUE! ))

“Moooom!” Shana stomped into her mother’s office, her long, shiny dark hair only partly braided and her eyeliner smudged. “Hattie locked me out of our room. Again!”

“Figure it out between yourselves, dear.” The Silvervine matriarch paused in her work, turning away from her laptop to peer over her reading glasses at her elder daughter with a kind but firm expression. “You’re sisters and you love each other. You need to find a way to work out your differences when I’m not available.”

Shana spun around, giving an exaggerated huff of disapproval as only a teenage girl can. As she stalked up the stairs, she felt vibrations in the walls from the wailing guitars and pounding bass of the music Hat had turned up as loud as it would go–probably just to plague her sister’s sensitive hearing. Shana approached their room, easily able to make out the screamed lyrics even through the locked door.

PLEASE BELIEVE METHAT MY EYES DECEIVE MEDON’T STAND ME UP, JUST LEAVE MEI HAVE FALLEN AGAIN, THIS IS THE ENDPAIN REDEFINED

“Hat!” Shana banged on the door with her fist. “You’re being really immature right now! Open the door!”

The volume lowered a fraction, just enough to hear her half-sister’s ridiculous, grating accent say, “Look on th’ floor!”

Shana looked down, saw an old hotel key card, and groaned. Hat had grown up with her father, a man who traveled extensively to some very odd places and had some very odd opinions about his daughter’s education. One of the things he taught her before he died was lockpicking, and Hat was now infuriatingly insistent about passing that skill on to Shana.

“I don’t need to learn to pick locks, Hattie! I’m not a–a delinquent like you!”

“Ye need ta learn if y’ever wanna get in yer room again!” Hat shouted cheerfully, and turned the music up again.

“Uuuuugh,” Shana growled, resting her forehead in her palm. She was the good kid, good grades, calm and competent–she didn’t have many friends at school but that was all right, she didn’t need them. She had plans for college, a good relationship with her mother–and then, Hat. This… devil-child of a half-sister she had never even heard of until she turned up on their doorstep last year. Shana tried so hard to be polite, kind even, but Hat didn’t care, she just… went around ruining everything, starting fights and sneaking liquor and shoplifting, and of course she was incredibly popular at school because people were idiots. “I am gonna kill you when I get in there, Hat!”

She reluctantly picked up the key card, mentally going over what she remembered from Hat’s garbled lecture on the subject. Bend the card… slide it in… feel it catch… wiggle it–

To her surprise (and a small, small, tiny bit of satisfaction) the lock popped open and the door swung free. Shana stared at it for a moment, gaping and holding the card, while Hat beamed at her from across the room. The scrawny, dark-skinned girl darted over, grabbed Shana by the wrists, and before she could protest the older girl found herself pulled up to stand on her sister’s twin bed, while the other girl began to bounce up and down, shaking her short, bleached hair to the pounding pulse of the music. Shuri, their family cat, mewled in protest at the disturbance and slipped off from where she had been lounging at the foot of the bed to go find somewhere peaceful, and for a moment Shana almost moved to follow. But Hat was smiling at her, tugging at her hand in encouragement to join the dance and she found herself beginning to sway to the beat, mouthing the lyrics at first, and then she and her sister screaming them together at the top of their lungs as they lost themselves to motion and sound.

AND I KNOW THAT STILLNESS SHATTERSWE HAVE ALL BEEN FRIGHTENED BY THEPAIN OF FOOTSTEPS ON THE PAVEMENT OF OUR LIVESI STAND AND FIGHTI’M NOT AFRAID TO DIE