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Where The Spirits Dwell

cirque de l’abc

Cirque De L’ABC - the Circus of the Abased - opened its tent flaps to the city of Paris in the late 1920s.  It is owned by Valjean, but essentially run by Les Amis.  Valjean is a magician, who had been imprisoned for [insert magical crime here] for nineteen years.  Not using magic, upon release from prison, was a condition of his parole, but he escaped ~through magical means~ and, effectively, disappeared.  He reappeared in 1915, under the alias of Madeleine, as a butterkraktory factory owner and mayor of Montreuil-sur-Mer.  Really just same hat as the first chunk of the story, really, just a hundred years later.

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oh, just throwing up some next to normal headcanon

Just another day, for Gabriel Goodman: chaotic school schedule, tormenting his younger sister, being ignored by his dad, and placating his crazy mother. The typical life of an eighteen year old, right? Never mind that his mother suffers from manic depression and vivid hallucinations…

…Exacerbated by Gabe’s death, before his second birthday.

Diana Goodman is an architect and, as such, she has built an entire life for the ghost of her son, who refused to leave his family. Why would he ever need to? With all the energy he has to feed on - between his mother’s mental illness, his father’s active refusal to cope, and his sister’s resentment - Gabe is, for all intents and purposes, alive. He is solid, essentially corporeal. The blanks of his “life” “away” from home are filled in by his mother’s hopes and imagination. With her aid, he is more fulfilled than he ever could have been, had he survived toddlerhood.

Being able to capture exclusively his mother’s attention and his dependence on her to help shape his growth and personality has made Gabe extremely protective of Diana…and her fragile state that allows her to devote so much energy to him. Because of this, he has spent most of his existence doing his best to sabotage any attempts the Goodmans have made to get her help. Selfish? Of course. At his core, Gabe is still a frightened child who needs his mother. On medication, her belief in him wanes. He becomes intangible, and terrified that he might disappear to her, too. When she seeks help, he acts out: intentionally puts harmful stumbling blocks in his sister’s way, prey on his father’s fears, convinces his mother to kill herself and be with him rather than risk losing him forever.

When Diana receives the electroshock therapy - that Gabe did his best to dissuade her from - she does temporarily lose sight of him, but while he might be invisible and forgotten to her, his father’s fear and his sister’s hatred are still plenty good to keep him going. Ultimately, Diana does remember her son, but chooses to leave him behind and do her best to seek “solid ground” without the constant aid of her husband or comfort Gabe’s presence provided. With his mother gone, Gabe has no choice but to appeal directly to his dad, who - now broken and worn down - is finally able to confront him…but also decides to seek help, effectively banishing Gabe to obscurity, once again.

As his family’s dysfunction begins to heal, Gabe’s ability to “live” is wavering. Stuck at eighteen, he’s become bitter and scared as the memories of the life Diana created for him slowly starts to break down. He is beginning to remember his own death too vividly, occasionally rendered helpless by the ghost of the pain that killed him. Desperately, he is trying to hold onto what made him his mother’s perfect son, but his instability has turned him into something of a spiteful, dangerous poltergeist, desperate for the the attention and energy his parents and sister no longer bother wasting on him.

(Source: morethanmemory.dreamwidth.org)

oh no help, i’m playing “what if they played sburb”

GraveRobber: Rogue of Light

Shilo: Sylph of Life

Nathan: Prince of Doom

Marni: Maid of Life 

Mag: Seer of Time

Rotti: Thief of Breath

Luigi: Heir of Rage

Pavi: Page of Heart

Amber: Mage of Void

No one is a hero of Space.  We don’t have a frog.  So, doomed session.  (~Our most vital organ was REPOED.  GET IT.)

Also pretty sure that Shilo’s planet would be the Land of Bugs And Lace. 

another dream, this one slightly more coherent and it reads like the premise of a stupid ij reencarnation themed rp

Literal exact cross between Once Upon A Time and Repo!.  Presumably, somehow, after taking over, Amber had figured out how to have GeneCo doctors revive Rotti and Mag.  And they were bad guys “fighting” against all the faerie tales, who lived next to GeneCo Towers in a towering hotel of their own.  GeneCo employed fictional “educational” characters, such as Muppets from Seasame Street and so on, to help spread their propaganda.  My friends and I started as outside observers, to the point of even being like, “Wait, this is real, this is a segment on a show?  Who did they get to play…wait, yeah, that’s Paul Sorvino.”

So, my friends and I came “into” it, as…”real people”, as observers.  But then we were actually part of the story, living in the “good guy” hotel, I guess sort of helping their cause.  Partially because everyone considered us a neutral party, I think, because we weren’t fictional characters, like they were.  So we could go to GeneCo’s stupid, like…nightclub/bar/theme park-ish set up without being penalized.

Anyway, it was more like weird little stories set in this situation/world than it was a coherent singular storyline.  The first was just me…with a handful of faerie tale characters, some of whom knew who they were, others who understood what the sitch was, but didn’t quite remember, yet.

There was another part in which Kylee was living in one of the bigger hotel rooms (and I think it was because she was “secretly” a part of Blind Mag that was missing from the revived version of her, who was sort of empty and “wrong” and trapped at GeneCo) and some older people (who were like…supposed to be her mom and granddad maybe?) were on their way out, while we were getting in to hang out with her.  And they were leaving by suspended scaffolding, just outside the window, instead of just…going down the elevator, inside, like normal people.  Which was extra stupid, when you considered they were terrible at operating it.

Worse, Kylee had two pet foxes that I think her “mom” was trying to…take.  For whatever reason.  And this older “mom” woman was wearing some sort of apparatus connected to an oxygen tank, so when they were trying to steal these foxes, one of them, on this suspended scaffolding  up very high on the hotel we all lived in, kept jumping up and attacking this woman’s equipment.  So I freaked out because the only thing I could think of was the man and woman getting upset and throwing the fox off the scaffolding.  And Kylee freaked out as soon as she realized the babies were gone, so we ran down into the lobby and out the door, into the courtyard to try and see what was going on.  Kylee kept yelling at her “mom” about stealing her pets and I kept having to try and distract her because, in the dark, I kept thinking I could see dead foxes, but every time I was like, “Ok, wait here,” she would only get more upset and not wait.

Ultimately, they were fine.  I don’t know how, besides weirdo absence of logic in dreams, they were…but they were both sproinging around in the courtyard and we collected them and that was the end of that segment.

In another part, suddenly this area existed simultaneously in Pismo Beach and in the artists’ village in Santa Ana because I was hanging out with some girl I don’t remember and Tito and he and I were talking about hotel bars, but also treating the GeneCo theme park-y bar like it was Chapter One, where we used to go, all the time, after Dog Sees God rehearsals/shows.  And he was telling me and this girl that we ought to come and he was like, “Well, you have to bring two people who wouldn’t otherwise come,” and I explained that I couldn’t bring my boyfriend because he hated the place.  Which was only half-true.  And when he was like, “Why?”, I had to joke, “Well, come on, do you think GraveRobber REALLY wants to just waltz into GeneCo?”  Cue everyone laughing and us going over to that bar.

The weirdo magic defense that the GeneCo Towers seemed to have allowed “real” people in and out, just fine, but if you were a fictional character, you got “penalized”.  Which was to say they did something weird to you, but I’m not exactly sure what.  I think they allowed you to come in but you had to…either shed your “human” disguise or be shrunk to, like…doll size, so you “couldn’t” pose a threat.  And I guess some fictional patrons were okay with this, but most weren’t.  So I had to explain to my girl friend that this was why most of my friends never came in.

What I didn’t say, revealed in a later segment, is that my boyfriend not coming in wasn’t just a joke.  He couldn’t because he was sort of…doubly “damned”, in this situation.  He was also sort of operating under the impression that he was a “real” person (and had always been), but…he wasn’t.  Not only was he actually GraveRobber (and didn’t know), he was also Prince Adam, in a way that almost didn’t make sense, not because, literally, GR is Adam, but due to the “real” person he was, my boyfriend, who, as himself, is - duh - the Beast.  And he didn’t know that, either.  And I only knew this because I knew I was Belle (also duh).

Now, okay, dream logic time: the weirdo magic defense in the Towers ought to have affected me because of that.  But the trouble (for them) was that, as Belle, I STILL LOOK EXACTLY LIKE ME.  So, there was no way for them to see through my “disguise”, since it wasn’t even that.  There seemed to be a sort of faulty clause of “If you legitimately don’t know you’re fictional, you’re not a threat, ergo, you’re fine,” but I knew that wouldn’t work on my boyfriend, if it even worked for anyone, because - regardless of being Adam - they (somehow) knew he was GraveRobber and really, really wanted to get him in their clutches, since as both GR and the Beast, he would be a really powerful ally for the “good guys”.

So.  I needed to protect him from all of this.  And I woke up, sort of knowing (from an outside perspective), that everyone was about to be in kind of serious trouble, because - of course - there stood a really high chance that I was also Shilo, but I didn’t know it and neither did anyone else.  Yet.

Dun dun dun. 

and here’s another dream i had, documented mostly incoherently

House across the street from Nana’s & Tata’s, but wasn’t Nini & Sam’s.  Big window in “Brittany & Amanda’s room” (although the room itself was smaller) looked yellow and tinted, like an old photograph.  Through it, you could look out at Nana’s & Tata’s but see, basically, into some weirdo 1970s/early 80s time bubble.  There was a second garage where the “front” steps ought to have been and the yard was bigger, disconnecting that second garage from the house.  On top of this garage which was mostly street level, was more of the yard and something of a grassy mound and what I kept referring to as a mausoleum, but looked kind of like a cross between a crypt and a just-bigger-than-mini-golf sized witch’s cottage from a faerie tale.  I also mentioned it being “that Snow White looking motherfucker” or something.

House across the street was sort of off-limits because it was supposed to be haunted or just weird.  People had disappeared, never to be seen again, in it.  But I guess there were rumours of the 1970s time bubble window and/or pictures through it, where you could (or, at least, I could) see this second “garage”/crypt structure.  No one else thought it was as cool as I did or cared because, present day, it looked like it does IRL and that was enough for my stupid, unimaginative cousins.

For unknown reasons, I was babysitting three little girls and the implication was that two of them were a younger Tori and Mia.  And I think Mia was a little older than Tori, moreso than she really is, IRL.  The third was a friend of Tori’s, I think.  The reasons unknown part comes in with being at this off-limits house across the street.  But there was a good reason for it.  I think, maybe, the little girl friend of theirs lived there.  Or something.  Because she seemed to be the instigator of coming to wake Mia and Tori up, who were asleep in a bed with me, and tell them, essentially, “Let’s go exploring.”  Tori seemed to know what the other girl meant, like they’d done this - even though they weren’t allowed to - before.  Mia may have felt left out or just bratty, but followed, also, and Tori and her friend had…these two stickers or beads or something to signify…the order of something, in this forbidden, rumoured weird part of the house, or protection or something.  I don’t remember.  But I do remember Mariah switching the girl’s and Tori’s, so that Tori had something different than she thought, behind their backs, when they were walking over to a panel of a wall, wallpapered in pink and lower-half wood panelling in a Victorian sort of way but maybe not, that actually happened to be a hidden door into this weirdo half of the house that I could tell they’d been sneaking into, even though they knew they shouldn’t since that’s how you could get LOST.

I followed them, first without them knowing, but then as part of their little expedition.  Their little friend and Tori were talking about all the strange rooms they wanted to go into, but the only one I could remember them mentioning was “the cold, snow room”.  The little friend also mentioned something about “creating a boy and a girl” and wondering…what they’d do or where they were or something like that.  The girls didn’t think much of it, but that mention scared the crap out of me.  Especially when they were all like, “I wonder what else to create!”

This forbidden part of the house looked a lot like the rest of the house - which, for the most part, really didn’t look anything like Nini & Sam’s does IRL - but less furnished and more…not even really abandoned, but very obviously unused.  Like, maybe once upon a time, this wasn’t hidden off from the rest of the house, but things got weird, so everyone kind of dropped what they were doing and left it without finishing?  The hallways seemed a little tighter, here, and looked like they might have a staircase that could be a cross between Julie’s back staircase and the one at Nini’s & Sam’s.  In fact, this area did sort of look a bit like Julie’s brother’s house.  Irrelevant, though.

Passing through the panel-door into the hallway, further down the hall, there was what my brain is telling me might have been some sort of sliding door (closet?) on a room, that was partially opened into black.  That, I wondered, might have been where this fabled “created” boy and girl were.  Shivers.  Gross.  But we went a little further to the left, the opposite direction of that room, which would be - if it was Nini and Sam’s - sort of where the master bedroom is, next to the staircase?  Anyway.  The room we ended up going into was the “snow room”.  Not big enough, I didn’t think, to be a bedroom, but maybe a playroom or office or something.  Didn’t matter.  Inside, it was - sort of - as advertised.  Across from the door, there was a small, high-up window, but no other real light source.  Floor to ceiling flowerly blue-and-white wallpaper.  Office-ish, cream-coloured carpet.  Or was it grey/blue?  It doesn’t matter, maybe.  The room was definitely…not freezing, but significantly cooler than, so far, everything else.  Like someone had turned up the A/C really high, maybe.  But there were no vents.  And, from no real origin but the ceiling, snow was…technically falling.  I remember thinking it really seemed like fake snow, like a trick they’d use at Disney or Universal, but it felt cold enough when it touched that maybe it WAS real.  And I liked it, either way, so we danced around in that room for a while.

That may have been “Candice & Melissa’s room”.  We went into another room, that was where B&A’s would have been, with the window.  In here, the little friend was like, “What if the other kids come in and play?” or “We should get the others!” and while I was hesitant about this summoning, the girls were seemingly excited (maybe Mia wasn’t) and, while we sat on the floor in a circle, maybe preparing to play a game, two kids…who sort of seemed like older teenagers came in to join us, a boy and a girl.  I guess they sort of reminded me of Cass and Chris, except that the girl seemed more delicate and calm and sad than Cass and the boy seemed a little more friendly and outgoing than Chris.  Her hair was long and strawberry blond, his was darker brown in a bowl cut.  They both looked vaguely 1970sish.  They both wore masks, the boy’s hanging around his neck and the girl’s pushed back on her head, that both had yellow and turquoise as the predominant colours.  Painted to look…sort of Kabuki-ish?  But not terribly specifically.  Those made me nervous, too.

When they came in, I felt sort of weird and the girls, I could tell, also were kind of nervous, even though it seemed like they’d played with these kids before.  The girl sat down next to Mia, who was on my left, and the boy sat across from me in the circle and I, at least, felt tense until the girl pulled out a piece of cardboard and put it over her mouth because it was shaped sort of like a goofy smile.  The little girls laughed and, somehow, this made me feel relieved.  Neither the boy or the girl talked much. Nor really even emoted.  But they were friendly and seemed to want to play with the girls and I had a feeling these were not the “created” things the friend had mentioned.  These might have been kids who had gotten lost in the house, too.  Did that mean we were lost in the house, also?

Regardless, we played with them for a while, until for some reason in whatever we were doing, the boy gave me his mask to hold up to my face.  I hesitated because I couldn’t figure out why I needed to and, if I did, would it attack me?  Would he attack me?  Would something really bad happen?  But I didn’t want to be rude or tip anyone off, so I sort of just…held it up and shrugged and nothing happened, except that the boy smiled and took it back.  Kind in a “See, that wasn’t so bad,” sort of way.

Then, he and I got up and were looking out the big time bubble window and I was explaining how I’d always wanted to see this and goddamn, look at that fucking great mausoleum that my grandparents used to have.  And I remember him asking me what I was talking about, so I pointed to it and that was when, I think, I called it the Snow White house looking thing, it’s a crypt.  I might have had some other name for it, too, inferring that it wasn’t just a crypt, but I don’t remember that.  And I told him that it was too bad the window was just showing us what it looked like and that we couldn’t use it to go exploring in that little bubble so that I could see what the fuck was up with that crypt and why no one else ever seemed to care about it. 

We both opened either side of the window and hung out of it and the photography look went away, seemingly implying that maybe there was no “bubble”, it was just the window, but everything still looked…sort of like it had through the window.  And when I looked down, my parents and a bunch of our relatives were piling into a station wagon to…go…I don’t know where.  So I yelled down, “UH, BYE THEN,” to my parents who hadn’t made any mention of going anywhere and my mom looked around like she almost heard me, but didn’t say anything back.  My dad, in the passenger seat, though, did say bye to me and wave.  And eventually my mom waved, too.  And then the idea seemed that maybe I sort of was lost in the house.  But that mausoleum was still at Nana’s & Tata’s and I needed to go fucking check it out because how fucking cool would that have been.

And that’s all I really remember.

oops, i’m totally doing it - wow meme

I have a feeling there are going to be some ridiculous patterns, here.

Worgen Priest (Discipline)
Ryan: Gnome Warrior (Protection)
Mark: Gnome Priest (Discipline)
Jon: Blood Elf Priest (Shadow)
Heero: Human Rogue (Combat)
Tasuki: Worgen Mage (Fire)
Wilson: Human Priest (Discipline)
Shilo: Night Elf Priest (Discipline)
 Worgen Warrior (Arms)
Collin: Blood Elf Hunter (Beast Mastery)
Rainbow Dash: Draenei Warrior (Protection)
Rocket: Human Warrior (Protection)
Charles: Night Elf Monk (Mistweaver)
Fionna: Human Paladin (Protection)
Ty-Lee: Human Monk (Windwalker)
Jake: Human Paladin (Holy)
 Undead Warlock (Demonology)
Talia: Blood Elf Rogue (Subtlety)

Cass: Human Hunter (Survival)
Noel: Night Elf Druid (Balance)
Rhys: Worgen Warrior (Protection)
Eddie: Worgen Warlock (Affliction)
Brad: Human Warlock (Demonology)
Veva: …Wait, this is dumb, just look at Donny’s.

Bonus notes: I’m sad it makes more sense for Charles to be a Mistweaver than a Brewmaster because lol.

Also, if Repo! was WoW, GraveRobber would be a Worgen Rogue, specializing in probably Subtlety.  And if Basterds was WoW, Aldo would, I guess, be a Human Rogue, specializing in Combat.  OOPS DO I HAVE A TYPE.

Hey, would you mind sharing with me the link to your Marni rant? I'd like to read your point of view.

I most definitely wouldn’t!  The one I’m pretty sure you’re referring to is here, but if you look in the Marni tag on my main tumblr, you’ll see see an endless supply of rants/ideas.

In summary, I know it’s usually just a joke (especially as a shout-out at Repo!shadowcast shows - my own, included), but it really bothers me when people seriously decide that Marni’s a “whore” or a bad person or any other thing people like to say because they mistakenly feel bad for Rotti.

also a “reblog” of a couple dolly bits


Her skin began to harden the day he came into the fold.  But no one registered the faint clicking of, say, porcelain touching porcelain, when she blinked, least of all the new boy.  What he seemed to notice first was her waist.  With his hand.  Even through her corset, his fingertips…so warm…

“So, what do they call you, doll?” he had asked, smirking unironically.

Instinct said to bite the collarbone exposed through a tear in his shirt, but instead she sunk her teeth into her own lower lip - half-expecting to hear another clink when she bit into miraculously still-soft flesh - and giggled.  Low, menacing.  Not what he expected, by the look on his face, but if that’s what he wanted, no less than three harlequin harpies were waiting in the wings to throw themselves upon him.

Four, actually, if you counted the little clown girl, who not-so-swiftly won his attention as she sauntered away.

“That is what they call her, dummy,” she heard Wick sneer, on her way out.  ”Didn’t you learn anything?”

The answer was - and would always be - no.

At its peak, the ferris wheel couldn’t have been taller than sixty feet.  The fall would kill no one, especially not those already passed, but when he threatened to let her drop, she kicked her feet and even managed a squeal.  All for the fun of the game.  In the end, he pulled her back into the cart and smiled and even put his jacket around her shoulders.

Tch,” she verbalized, porcelain scraping porcelain, shrugging off the leather crushing the tulle around her neck.  She let it slip and fall, like he had tried to do to her.

“Cunt,” he sneered.

She snapped her teeth and kicked him, as best as she could in such close quarters, in the ankle.  In response, he raised his fist, like he might back-hand her (in the bad cheek, too), but seemed to think better of it, once she narrowed her eyes.  Instead, he grabbed her curls and pulled her in for a kiss.  In turn, she whomped him in the face with the stale cotton candy he stole from the cart under them.

By the time the ride began to spin again, he had allowed her to lick most of the sugarfloss off his face.  The last flick of her tongue was followed by a soft kiss.  Good boy, she mouthed against his cheek and she could feel him wanting hit her again, but settling for an arm around her so not to cut the night short.

Ticket-Keeper was waiting for them when the wheel completed its descent and he did not look pleased.  ”I don’t suppose the two of you were up there, contemplating just how many violations you’ve accrued in the last hour,” he grumbled, reluctantly lending a hand when Doll reached for his help to hop down.

It didn’t take long for her pretend consideration to slip away with a shake of her head.

Collecting his dusty jacket, the Scorpion shrugged and linked an arm through Doll’s to pull her away from their accuser.  ”Relax, pops.  We were just taking a little joy ride.”

“Were you, now?”  Ticket-Keeper made a gesture over his shoulder and, out from the main tent came the Tamer, dragging behind him an unoccupied cart.  ”Well, then I suppose you won’t mind taking another, over to visit our sinners.”

“Little prick,” the Tamer grumbled, gripping the Scorpion’s shoulders before her could protest and shoving him towards the cage.

From behind their boss’s second, the Painted Doll nodded, to her beloved’s annoyance, and held up her fingers to illustrate just how little.

“As for you.”  Ticket-Keeper pivoted to find Doll with her eyes like saucers, eyelashes a-batting.  They both knew that contrite was a thing she would never be, but the old man sighed.  ”See that he reaches his destination.”

The Painted Doll nodded pleasantly and blew a tiny air-kiss as she climbed up the little step on the side of the Scorpion’s new prison.  On the move, he flipped his switchblade open and stuck it into her thigh…but spent the rest of the trip obediently lapping up the blood.

Sleeping seemed to be another one of those concepts that the Painted Doll had forgotten about.  In theory, she knew what it meant, what it did, but couldn’t imagine it having ever applied to her.  Apparently, though, even dollies needed their beauty sleep and when she woke in the grandstands with her precious Scorpion’s head cradled in her lap (and the rest of him stretched haphazardly over the bleachers below her), there was really only one appropriate course of action.

Bending over, her face as close to his as she could make it, she parted her lips and bit down on his nose, as hard as she could manage.

“Oh, shit, did he finally kick it?”

With a graceful flourish of movement from the previously still ballerina, she crouched down to peer into the dead eyes of her late instructor.  ”Finally,” she confirmed, wrapping her beloved’s jacket tighter around her naked shoulders.

With one final flick of his wrist, Shane stuck his switchblade into the fleshy dartboard.  ”About damn time.”  He bent to kiss the woman’s head, through her curls, but she flinched.  All things considered, he let it slide.  ”No mercy for those who fuck with my Dolly, eh?”

Another moment of silence, on her part, before she wiped her bloody hands on her torn dress and stood.  ”None,” she agreed, lips curling into a devious smile.  A little braver on her feet, she reached for his hand and brought it up to cup her broken cheekbone.  ”Get your knife, you stupid prick.  Let’s go.”

When he approached, she stuck her leg between his and hitched up hard, dropping him to his knees.  ”What?!” he demanded, cupping his no-doubt swollen balls with his free hand.

No change in austere expression, she pointed to the candy ring in his hand.

“Yeah?  What about it?”

She tapped the fourth finger on her left hand, but had to kick him a second time before he understood what she wanted.  Before hoisting him up, her tongue shot out and across the ring.  Strawberries?  She could barely remember flavours.  It didn’t matter.  What did though was biting her lip until it bled and doing the same to him, to seal the contract.

A note, pinned to…or, rather, through the Scorpion’s shoulder with his own blade, in sloppy, but elegant cursive:

I am going to marinade your precious little frog in butter and bile and feed her to the clown girl’s yappy little bitches.  You are mine mine mine mine MINE.

Another note, this one blood-stained, stuffed into the pocket of the Scorpion’s jacket:

come play with me
I left you a(n en)trail.
PS: oops they’re yours! 

more self-“reblogs” since they were in asks…this was for peaches, on my shiblr


So to properly mirror her new friend, Shilo sunk down a few inches so that the tips of her toes, at least, could touch the coffee table that ran parallel to their couch.   

“Well, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it, if you did like him,” she officially declared, with all the reassurance of a girl who still didn’t quite understand why there could be something wrong with letting someone’s job get in the way of, well…anything.  ”But,” she added, with a little wave of her cookie dough-encrusted spoon, “you have to be careful.  Even just being friends.

She watched Becky’s almost-always cheerful face contort, confused, when she asked, “Why would you say that?”

But Shilo had already stuffed the spoon in her mouth.  ”GraveRobber says,” she tried to say around it, “all priests are pedophiles.  They have sex with babies.”

If it had been strange to see the other girl’s smile disappear, it was even more alien to see her frown.  ”That’s not true.  Not of him, anyway,” she insisted, then got a little too quiet.  

For a moment, Shilo panicked.  What if she had said something so wrong that Becky would send her home, without completing the promised sleepover?  Would they still talk?  Did they have to stop being friends?  She opened her mouth to apologize, even though she was more sorry that Becky didn’t believe her - or, in turn, GraveRobber, who was always right - but at least she knew enough to know that you weren’t always supposed to elabourate on apologies.

Before she could, the cheer flooded back into her friend’s face.  ”He’s an absolute angel,” she assured Shilo.  ”So much so that he’s totally my real life PB for Castiel.”

Although Shilo was still trying to learn this level of fluency in fandom-speak from Becky, the expert, she nodded and smiled and handed the other girl back the communal bowl of cookie dough.  And wiped the imaginary sweat from her forehead.

“OH!” Becky exclaimed suddenly.  ”That reminds me!”  Pushing the bowl aside, she threw her blankets off, now trapping Shilo under a small mountain of blue fleece, and jumped up.  She disappeared for what only seemed like a split second and returned to the living room with a manuscript.  ”Did you read my fan fiction yet?  What do you think?”

They didn’t speak for the rest of the night.

"reblogging" these from myself because i liked the answers


2. What is their scent?
Shilo might be a perfect example of that “clean” smell that candles sometimes claim to be.  Not quite sterile, hospital clean - although I’m sure it was a little bit more that before she started sneaking out, just having come from a sterile room, essentially put together by a doctor.  Now, mostly, she smells like…I guess like she’s just bathed.  Like a fresh, clean soap smell.  Formerly to cover up anything that might smell like cemetery or any place/thing that wasn’t her room, just in case Daddy ever got suspish.

If she had a scent, as in perfume, she would probably be just as obsessed with BPAL as I theoretically am.  And every scent would be her scent.  (There are butterfly/moth scents right now.  She would pee with excitement.)

7. Describe their voice.
Quiet, for starters, and unsure.  Pure, too, in the way that…like…it has a sort of crystal-clear quality to the sound of it.  Never really whiny and certainly never hoarse.  Not particularly high-pitched, but not low/deep, either.  Surprisingly steady, too, for how often she stops and starts herself, while talking, and for how nervous she usually is, when communicating with others. 

10. What is their comfort food?
Shilo has absolutely zero fond memories of her dad’s cooking, so nothing he ever made.  She’s still getting used to new tastes and she has a lot of favourite foods, but I think the only thing that qualifies as “comfort” food is peanut butter and sugar sandwiches, not even particularly because of the taste (although she is extremely partial, so far, to sweets), but because it’s the first food she ever figured out how to prepare for herself and the sugar part was always a little, secret treat she would add, knowing that her father would probably lose his mind if he could figure out that she was sneaking sugars for herself.

So, it’s less about the food itself and more about the process and the fact that it represents one of the only ways she knows how to take care of herself, without anyone else’s help.

15. What is their top sense?
“Top”, being her best or her favourite?  Either way, I can elabourate on both and, oh, I think I will!  

When I first looked at the question, I was going to say “taste”, until I realized “top” probably meant “best”.  Taste is not Shilo’s best, most honed sense.  At all.  It’s her most sensitive, though, and favourite because she’s spent her whole life growing up eating nothing but Nathan’s terrible cooking.  And not just his terrible cooking, but his terrible cooking of only bland, boring foods that he thought wouldn’t be “bad” for her.  Over-salted meatloaf and “cookies” made of cardboard and so on.  So, being used to absolutely nothing tasting good, when she does eat something with flavour, she gets really excited, even if it’s a flavour she doesn’t like.  But, since she’s not used to the experience of eating, you know, good food, her tastes a) aren’t very discerning and b) are sort of…all over the place, when it comes to identifying what she’s eating.

(So far, she’s fondest of tacos and chocolate.)

Her best sense is hearing.  She couldn’t leave her room until Nathan left for work, so she had to listen.  Since she has to be sneaky, she has to know what sounds mean what, otherwise she might have risked getting caught doing something she knew she “shouldn’t” be doing, but needed to, for her own sanity.

(She’s also got a pretty good ear for bug sounds.)

…It’s also worth mentioning that there are certain things she likes touching, to confirm that they’re real.  (GraveRobber is one of these things.)

17. Any OCD tendencies?
The first thing that comes to mind is her compulsion to tuck her hair out of her face/behind her ear.  It’s something she does so often with her wigs that she’ll even do it when she isn’t wearing one and has literally no hair to brush out of the way.

All things considered, too, I don’t think it counts as OCD, but she also has difficulty remembering to not take her pills.  Like, she doesn’t, but it’s still instinct for her to reach for a pill bottle when she thinks she feels a withdrawal attack coming on.  Since she’s found and dumped almost her entire stash of “medicine”, too, it’s sort of just become a routine of grabbing/opening empty bottles, then putting them down.