...at least it loops

anonymous asked:

heres a prompt if u were interested: neil being oblivious when flirted with constantly while andrew doing nothing, passing by, twirling his racquet is enough to get neil's attention (the rest of the foxes smirk)

“You’re all zoned out,” Matt says in her ear. Dan tips him immediately backwards with a hand to the chest.

“Shush,” she tells him, gritted through the straw she’s worrying between her teeth. She ran out of the watered-down pepsi they’re serving in battered plastic jugs a half hour ago.

“Dan.”

“Shush,” she insists, pressing two fingers to his mouth. She’s watching Neil trying to fill his water cup over at the far side of the banquet hall. He’s hovering in that way he does, like a shark who hasn’t figured out if something’s food yet.

There’s this sweet brown-eyed boy trying to talk to him, possibly the only male cheerleader in the room, certainly the least in the loop about Exy gossip. Dan watches him touch Neil’s arm and Neil jerks backwards into the table, toppling an entire icy water jug so it slops onto the floor and seeps through the tablecloth to the dark wood underneath.

Heads pop up, the boy falls all over himself to pour Neil a new glass, and Neil wanders off, bored.

Dan has noticed that people really want Neil to have a heart of gold. They like the news stories and they want them for themselves. They want the seams showing on his face and the tragedy in his back pocket, and they want to show everyone how accepting they are for finding his scars sexy. 

All they really want is his trim waist and his pretty eyes and his vice-cap badge and the way he shoves cameras away and has more history than any twenty-year-old has any business having.

Dan’s seen it all before. The way people like the character you’re playing so much that they want to take you home and open you up and see how deep it goes.

Neil’s worse at knowing when it’s happening. Dan’s a professional. She can see the way their eyes follow him because at least a dozen are always following her too, especially in places like this banquet. They look at Neil, or Dan, and a little part of them expects a show.

She watches Neil walk towards them with his eyes pouring over the room like liquid and finding every crevice, every exit. She looks at Matt.

“He’s doing that thing where he’s making a spectacle but he thinks he’s being very subtle.”

“That’s his whole shtick. I’m fond of it, now.” Matt grins.

“Do you think he actually noticed he was being hit on?”

Matt hums, watching Neil wind through the tables back to the fox—trojan extravaganza at theirs. “I doubt he knows anything about that boy other than the fact that he was in front of him for a bit.”

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Tips on Writing Characters Without Faces

so yeah, we all know that facial expressions can tell us a lot about how a character is feeling, but what if that isn’t an option? how can you make someone emote if they don’t really have standard facial features? the answer; body language.

let’s consider how emotions are conveyed on a stage production vs movie with Sweeney Todd. First, the stage play:

Note how Todd’s entire upper body goes into his gestures, how he’s single-mindedly focused on his dreams and ideals; how his hands GRAB for each imaginary ‘man’ with these sharp, aggressive, destructive movements and how that contrasts with Mrs. Lovett’s body language; how her hands linger in the air and gravitate towards Todd even after he’s pulled away, and the slow turn she gives him. It does an excellent, though exaggerated, way of conveying their relationship (her focus is on him and making him happy, his focus is entirely on revenge)

Contrast this to the movie:

Originally posted by curiousitykilledthekat

Same lines in the song, much more subtle. Lovett’s eyes still track towards Todds, which reminds us she’s still more focused on the outside, but all of the emotion is in their faces. Were this not a close-up shot in a movie it’d be very, very hard to read their expressions.

While I do recommend you watch a few stage plays (in person near the back row if you can) to actually study body language for yourself or try out charades with your face covered with friends/watch how cosplayers or mascots emote, here’s a few shorthands to get you started (US-centric so expressions may vary on your region):

Head:

  • perfectly still - fear, intense attention, feeling under scrutiny
  • tilted up - recollection, intimidation (looking down nose at threat, aiming to appear taller)
  • tilted down - intense thought, shame (avoiding eye contact), depression/sad feelings
  • turned away - not giving person full attention, avoiding subject/conflict without being combative
  • cocker-spaniel (sideways) tilt - confusion, curiosity, amusement

Hands

  • at the forehead - fatigue (wiping away sweat), illness (checking self for fever, feeling a headache), realization/memory (a ‘well duh’ tap)
  • at the eyes - fatigue or headache (shielding eyes from light), distress (blocking out a painful view, concealing tears)
  • at the nose - disgust (a pinch at the nostrils,) irritation (rubbing at sore spot on nose from glasses wear)
  • at the mouth - nausea, surprise, repressing an emotion/stopping self from saying something
  • at the chin - contemplation, tiredness (face resting in hand)
  • rubbing back of neck - a need to relax tension, embarrassment, slight unease/desire to distract self
  • at the chest - surprise, self-protection (reaction to a wounding statement, sometimes used sarcastically), strong emotions (clutching at heart, could be good-strong or bad-strong), need for security (touching necklace/adjusting clothing to conceal more)
  • at the stomach - pain (clutching, pressing), satisfaction after a meal, protectiveness towards fetus when applicable
  • at the hip(s) - confidence, intimidation, nervousness (if grabbing for weapon)
  • at groin - concealment/unease (usually male-coded as protection of genitals), politeness (hands folded in lap)
  • on thighs - exhaustion (bent over, hands on legs supporting tired upper body)
  • formed into fists - holding back an intense emotion, preparing to fight
  • toying with something - restlessness (bored, nervous energy, craving something they can’t touch) or deliberate disrespect of property (playing with personal objects someone holds dear as an intimidation tactic)

Arms

  • at sides, relaxed - default posture
  • at sides, tense - unease, restraint (soldier at attention, person holding still to avoid being attacked), fear
  • crossed at chest - disapproval, displaying authority, unease (hugging oneself)
  • crossed at stomach - pain, intense laughter (caused by sore stomach muscles from laughing)
  • up, fingers laced behind head - confidence, relaxation
  • one arm on back of furniture - confidence, invitation for someone join them
  • general rule - the further arms are away from body, the more confident/dominant a person means to appear; exposed torso indicates that they don’t see anyone around as a threat to them

Legs

  • square with shoulders - professional, restraint, protective stance
  • wide stance, one foot a little back but planted - defensive stance, expecting to receive blows (knees may be unlocked - seen in swordplay and fencing)
  • weight on one leg - relaxed, tired, may also be leaning on something or pair with one ankle tucked behind the other
  • uneven stance - could indicate old injury
  • foot tapping/bouncing - boredom, nervous energy

Whole Body:

  • stiff and still - fear, unease, standing to attention
  • limp or pliant - relaxed, tired, pleased
  • shoulders back/head up - alert, focused, aggressive
  • shoulders forward, hunched - tired, ashamed
  • leaning towards person - interest, intimidation (looming over them), aggression (usually paired with tense arms or hands in fists,)
  • leaning away from person - relaxation, confidence, disgust (recoiling)
  • smooth/fluid movements - joy, confidence, experience
  • stiff motions - fear (reactive, fight or flight), pain (reluctance to move), anger (either fighting to keep control of emotions or lashing out), cold (conservation of heat by keeping limbs near body)
  • cracking joints/stretching - preparing for a fight, often reading as confidence in abilities
  • general rule - close contact/proximity can read as intimidation (paired with tense body - an invasion of personal space) or affection (paired with relaxaed body language, gentle movement) or passion/attraction while distance can read unease/distaste/fear/dislike.

with those in mind, let’s read this scene from Red vs Blue (a personal fav of mine for body language) featuring agent texas from season 8.

Originally posted by cryingmanlytears

So first of all, very relaxed upper body; limp arms held away from the body, which slowly come back to rest on her hips as she looks at what she’s done. Watch how her lean shifts at the end as her center of gravity shifts, and how she has to move her right leg to restabilize herself when she’s finished pushing it. This reads, in order from the start of the loop; detachment (the least amount of her body is involved in the action as possible), relaxation (smooth movements, the deliberation of those little steps backwards) and confidence (hands on hips.) We can tell a ton about this character just in this gif alone, based on her body language.

in summary! this list isn’t exhaustive, but hopefully it gives you some ideas for ways of making characters emote in fics when you can’t see their faces.

Just A Quick Update On W2H2

I haven’t been able to touch it for quite a few weeks now because I’m sorta stuck between a rock and a hard place (the rock in this case is production and the hard place is pre-production, for whatever that’s worth haha).  

Basically, the way I’ve worked in the past is that I get the script about as good as I can manage (which I’ve done), and then I go to record the voice actors, and we sorta punch up the dialogue AS we record it.  I’ll feed the lines and give emotional direction, but I tell the actors to read it however they feel comfortable/however they think the character would say it.  Then I’ll suggest a slight change (maybe I want to avoid certain wordings or whatever), and we’ll just kind of keep going back and forth like that making it more solid each time.  And I’M SUPER EXCITED to do this, because it’s loads of fun, and all of the most quotable things in the first one just came from goofing around in the soundbooth, so I’m very excited for these people to turn my mediocre writing into comedy gold.

And aside from that being a whole process in itself, I really can’t start animating much without the dialogue, you know?  And because the delivery/lines/emotion/etc may CHANGE slightly, from the process described above, there’s not much I can do in terms of animating yet because all the animation is based off of those recordings.  I can do a handful of shots that have no dialogue, but the bulk of it is dependent on it.

Anyway, to get down to it, the reason all of THAT is taking so long is because, without going into much detail,  I’m bringing someone new on board for the cast and I’m still trying to work some stuff out in that regard.  A lot of it is just back-and-forth and waiting on responses and junk.  The next step will be finding a time to record that works for all my actors, because nowadays they’re not all sitting next to me in a classroom ready to go at the drop of a hat and the offer of a beer for their time, haha.  Differently locations, different schedules, etc etc.  So that’s kind of what’s up with W2H2 right now!  You guys are always pretty supportive and tell me to take my time and all that, which I appreciate, so there’s no need to come reassure me of that, I just figured the least I can do is keep you guys in the loop about what’s going on and where I’m at with it!

Thanks for your support!  I’m really eager to get back to working on it, so hang in there guys!

instagram

Omg!!! MCM is practicing a 4Lo!!! I don’t know if he plans to do this at 4CC, but now I’m even more hyped!!!

INTP TROUBLESHOOTING #1.5
  • Ti-Si Loop
  • Meanwhile in the corner...
  • Ne: Jackasses always leave me out... (sees Ti put information in the wrong slot) YOU IDIOT!!! THAT DOESN'T BELONG THERE! LISTEN TO ME! HELLO!? AM I INVISIBLE HERE?!
  • Fe: I want this to all make sense! Then we can share it with people and they'll love us! FIT IT!
  • Ne: No... world will laugh at us because this model is wrong. Are any of them listening to me at all? No~~~ it's always just those two.
  • Fe: BUT IT has to fit. It has to fit. I'll make it fit. Find more books! We'll find it! It'll fit. It'll fit. I want it to FIT!!!
  • Ne: No, it won't, little Fe. I know you want it to... but Ti isn't even wondering why they need to fit. Ti isn't questioning why they should fit. (sees Ti just plug in Si data again) OMG. Someone stop those two.
  • Fe: Because if we fit it in, we'll know! Then we can be loved! We can help! Be loved! Help!

“You’re dreaming. You know that, don’t you?”

4

WESTWORLD | 1.06 | The Adversary

Clementine & Maeve

  • Warning: OOC to the max. This is actually a continuation of a three year old post that I had rediscovered recently.
  • ----------------------------------------
  • Sherlock: *Huffs* He won't listen to me.
  • Molly: *Gently strokes her husband's cheek* Just be patient.
  • Sherlock: I have been patient for the last ten minutes!
  • Molly: *Looks out through their open bedroom door and into the silent sitting room* Reason with him in the same way you've reasoned with him before. *Looks back at her frustrated husband* You won't be able to do that if you hide here.
  • Sherlock: *Huffs and ruffles his curls* I have explained to him. I have reasoned with him. Bargained. Bribed. Even 'begged' *Points wildly to himself* Begged! *Throws his hand in the air* Me!
  • Molly: Sherlock...
  • Sherlock: *Looks pleadingly to his wife* Please, Molly. I have a case. Lestrade has a case waiting for me. *Gestures towards the sitting room* Waiting for 'us'. You have to intervene now.
  • Molly: *Contemplates for a few seconds before nodding* Okay, I'll try. *Grabs something from the bedside table* Come on!
  • *Husband and wife both goes out of their bedroom and into their sitting room.*
  • John: *Quietly sitting in the sofa and staring at the approaching couple*
  • Molly: *Moves towards the center of the room then stops a few feet away from the sofa* Hi, John.
  • John: *Nods* Hello, Molly.
  • Molly: *Stares back at her husband before facing John and kneeling*
  • John: *Eyebrows shot up but remains quiet.*
  • Molly: *Smiles softly at John before turning back to stare at her still standing husband*
  • Sherlock: *Huffs but goes and kneels beside his wife*
  • Molly: *Whispers to her husband* Why don't you try again?
  • Sherlock: *Sighs deeply but bends closer towards the floor* I have explained to you using logical reasoning. I have bargained with a fair match. I have bribed with a rich price. And I have 'begged' with utmost sincerity. Still, you remain stub-
  • Molly: *Nudges her husband* No wonder he won't listen to you! You sound like a nagging robot. My turn. *Looks straight back before lowering herself closer to the floor* Evan, sweetheart, *she says with a sweet and gentle voice* Daddy needs his scarf back now. He and Uncle John have a case and they need to go out to catch the bad guy. But it is cold outside, so he needs his scarf. Would you please give it back to daddy?
  • Sherlock: *whispers bitterly* How is that any different from what I did?
  • Evan Hooper-Holmes, 11 month old extraordinaire who had been sitting on the floor beside his godfather's leg: *clutches his prized possession closer to his body* Nooo.
  • Molly: *Still smiling sweetly* I know you like that scarf sweetie, But Daddy needs it. He'll get sick if you don't give it to him. Do you want daddy to get sick?
  • Sherlock: *protests* I don't get sick!
  • Molly: *turns back to glare at her husband before looking again at their stubborn toddler*
  • Evan "Ain't-I-the-cutest" Holmes: *Looks at his hard-earned price before staring back to his poor daddy who is now wearing his "have-pity-on-me" face* Noooooo, ba scaffy ain!
  • Molly: *leans closer to her baby and touches the edge of the blue scarf* I know, it's your sweetheart -
  • Sherlock: *protests* It's mine!
  • Molly: *looks back again to glare at her husband*
  • Sherlock: *sags in resignation* Fine...
  • Molly: *Smiles back at her son.* I know it's yours sweetheart so maybe you can let daddy use it for now? So that he won't get sick?
  • Evan "I-have-the-British-government-wrapped-in-my-pudgy-fingers-even-if-he-denies-it" Holmes: *Looks down at his precious treasure*
  • Molly: *Sees her baby boy's resolve breaking down* Tell you what Evan, while you are lending Daddy the scarf, I'll lend to you Mommy's scarf. *offers her possession that she had snatched before exiting their bedroom*
  • Evan "I-can-make-the-girls-swoon-faster-than-my-three-continents-godfather" Holmes: *Sees the elusive but equally, if not more precious treasure, goes to throw away the blue scarf and grab the pink one* Eyyyyyy.
  • Sherlock: *Sees how easy it is for his son to discard his scarf in favor of his mom's, starts to get competitive* That *points at his discarded scarf* is a vintage Paul Smith cashmere scarf that is not produced anymore! Meanwhile, 'that' *points at the black and pink scarf now being chomped by his son* is just a home knitted scarf that your mother's spinster aunt give out every year! Spawn, you clearly still need a lesson in taste!
  • Evan "I-can-make-anything-my-division" Holmes: *Stops and stares at his father*
  • Sherlock: *stares back at his mini-me, willing him to understand how far superior his scarf is over that of Molly's*
  • Evan "genius-in-the-making" Holmes: *Giggles at his silly father before taking a bigger bite of his recent acquisition*
  • John: *Stands up from the sofa and retrieves his best-friend's discarded scarf* Come on, man! You've clearly lost this one. At least now you have your 'cashmere' scarf back *Drops the scarf on the head of the still kneeling consulting detective*
  • Molly: *Giggling at the sour look of her husband* Come on, Sherlock. At least you got it back!
  • Sherlock: *Stands up and finally loops the scarf in his neck* I don't even need this, I don't get sick anyway!
  • John: *Waiting outside the flat's door* Then why did you spend 10 minutes 'begging' to get it back?
  • Sherlock: *bends down to kiss his wife goodbye* Principles, John. Principles.
  • John: *Snorts* More like, your costume won't be complete without it.
  • Sherlock: *Moves on to ruffling his son's curls before straightening up and exiting the flat* As I said. Principles.
  • ----------------
  • Edit: As @sherlolly29 asked, this is the old story written three years ago: http://creamocrop.tumblr.com/post/78315599726/a-pair-of-aquamarine-eyes-stared-at-the-expanse-of

sleptinthesoil  asked:

9 !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! please. i love your art :')

(9) Top of the Roller Coaster

I realized that I did not have the time nor faculty of mind to draw a roller coaster a million times so here’s a thumbnail/script iteration of what I think would go down because I’m extra like that. This one is less about fluff time and more about friend time. There are choice words used just as a fair warning! If there are typos please let me know!


It was a warm and bright day at the MTT-Land amusement park. The sounds of children laughing as they dragged their parents from one bright and gaudy ride to the next could be heard from every direction. A large line that stretched halfway across the park led up to a roller coaster so big it could be seen from the satellites. At the front of the line stood Undyne, Alphys, and Papyrus. They watch in amusement as Mettaton, grinning and posing for snapping cameras, cut a bright pink ribbon to unveil the new ride. 

“Congratulations BEAUTIES!” Mettaton exclaimed to them, handing his scissors off to an employee. 

Hoards of screaming fans had to be held back by iron gates and park security as Mettaton led the other three to the side of the track. They waited for their seats while the engineers made one final test run. It was only when they were standing at the bottom of the first incline that the magnitude of the ride really came into grasp.

“Wowie!” Papyrus exclaimed, shielding his vision from the sunlight as he looked almost straight up. Alphys gulped, the feeling of nervousness suddenly overcoming her.

Her girlfriend immediately recoiled from the reaction and attempted to change her mind..

“U-um…I’m not sure if I want to side up front,” she stuttered, smiling sheepishly. Undyne immediately stopped her tirade and placed a hand on Alphys’s shoulder.

“Oh, well… if it’ll make you feel better we can ride in the back.” Alphys tensed again.

“Oh no! That’s where we’d experience the most G-forces. I-I don’t think my insides could take it.” 

“Oh Darling, you won’t have to worry about that,” Mettaton replied smoothly, taking out a compact mirror to touch up on his makeup. “There are no back seats!”

Alphys’s face contorted in to a mix of pure fear and disbelief. “What.”

Mettaton shrugged playfully. “It’s four seats for the whole ride, that way we can experience the full thrill of excitement that awaits us!”

At that very moment the train with the four seats rolled into place, ready for it’s passengers. Undyne yanked Alphys, arm and ran for the closest available seat. But before either of them sat down, Mettaton jumped in front of Undyne and tapped her shoulder.

“Ah-ah! I call that seat darling!” He flashed at grin at her immediate confusion.

“Wha–HOW COME?” She asked. Mettaton pointed to a pole opposite the final drop.

“That’s the angle where the camera is going to snap a picture of our descent.” he explained.

Undyne crossed her arms and scoffed, “If you want it to catch your good side you should turn around and bend over.”

“…Ha.”

“Let’s all take our seats,” Papyrus said, quickly taking a seat between Mettaton and Undyne, sensing the potential of a fire about to ignite in the situation. Undyne reveled in Mettaton’s inability to think up an immediate response. He in turn, choice to ignore her as the bars of the ride began to lower and the employees checked everyone’s fasteners. Alphys took a few deep breaths and nearly squeaked when the ride shook and slowly moved forward. 

All the feelings of anticipation and trepidation were fully realized after almost five minutes of ascension. There followed the familiar creak of the track as the train curved over one side of the hill to the other.

Everyone braced themselves for the drop. They waited a second…five seconds…a full minute?

“Ah, I can’t handle the suspense much longer!” Alphys cried out finally.

“We’re…not moving.” Papyrus observed, rather disappointed.

“We’re not?” Alphys asking, peeking an eye open–then immediately closing it upon realizing that she could not discern the various crowds of people down below her.

“Ughh,” Undyne groaned. “I think we’re stuck” 

“You can’t be serious!” Mettaton exclaimed, almost livid. He whipped out his phone. “I’m calling maintenance. The last thing I need is another lawsuit on my hands!”

While Mettaton berated whoever was on the other end of the conversation, Alphys pressed herself as tightly as she could into her seat. “I’m not looking down. I’m not looking down.”

“Don’t be afraid Dr. Alphys,” Papyrus said, his reassuring voice kindly reducing her anxiety. He matched his positive words with a smile.“We have such an amazing view up here!” Undyne agreed and look out across the park. She pointed to a particular area.

“Hey, I can see the carnival games from up here.” She flexed her arms and chuckled. “When we get off this thing I want show those venders what I’m made of!” 

Mettaton hung up his phone and looked over at her coyly. “If you really want to show them what you’re made of you can turn around and bend over.”

There was a definite pause that followed. 

Undyne looked straight ahead and pointed towards the tracks below them. Her voice was measured and strained. 

Another pause. Mettaton almost seemed to hum with petty laughter.

“….bitch, I’d like to see you try.”

“YOU WANNA GO BRO–”

Papyrus and Alphys waved their arms up in exasperation, crying out:

And for a full three minutes there was a moment of silence.

“Well,” Mettaton said, eventually breaking it. “In regards to our situation…apparently there was a problem going on with the lines down there–something about fans trying to break through security to meet me–so they paused the ride to prevent more traffic buildup. Everything should start up again soon.”

“Ooooh,” Alphys groaned, unsure if she could stand anymore of the suspense of eventual doom. Even the gentlest of breezes seemed to make the infrastructure of the roller coaster creak and tremble.

“Hey, let’s look on the bright side,” Papyrus exclaimed, actively searching for a positive ”…at least we’re not stuck at the top of a loop?” Alphys immediately perked up at the comment.

“Oh! that’s actually physically impossible!” she replied, momentarily forgetting her fears at the opportunity to dispense some knowledge.

“Really?” Papyrus asked. Mettaton and Undyne remained otherwise quiet, refusing to look in each other’s general direction. Alphys continued.

“Yes! Roller coasters rely on stored kinetic and potential energy to move. The momentum gathered from entering a loop will carry you through going out of it. We’re on the first drop of this coaster, notably the highest, and we’re probably stuck on the motorized part of the track that carried us up. We’ll know they’ve released the ride when we begin our desceeeeeeeeeeeennnnnnntttt—


I wish I could draw more, but I have a lot to keep working o so i hope you enjoyed it!

anonymous asked:

I want to write like you so bad my heart kind of hurts. I want to move mountains the way you do with your words.

don’t write like me. don’t write like anyone else. write like you.

write like the time you broke your tooth. like riding a bike without handlebars. like when the dog bit you even after you thought it liked you. like who buried the hamster. like having your hair pulled. like having to say sorry. like a mistake you never forgot and like compliments you never got. like your mother’s lipstick and your first car. like what was under the couch. like who lived in the closet. 

i write a lot. it’s a lot of practice. i’ve written a lot of things i think are bad and that’s okay. five thousand poems later and some of it is going to be junk. but it’s mine. every word of it came from me trying to find out who i was going to write like. and it turns out the best way to write is to write like my dreams and nightmares and silly heartstrings. 

you are already carrying everything you need to move mountains. you’ve got your own words, don’t you?

skillzyo  asked:

*whispers* wayhaught pirates with the rest of the earp crew. also, nicole doesn't have to be pirate. she could be a naval officer who ends up falling for waverly. Happy ending though.

Nicole walked into the tavern growing more uneasy with every step. She had barely made it to shore before her body gave out. When she woke up, the sun was shining on her and she was on her back, warm, but in hostile territory. She took off her officer uniform and filled it with rocks, throwing it was deeply into the sea as she could.

Then she knocked out a drunken sailor that she figured she could share clothes with. She stripped him to his underwear and left him with his half empty bottle of rum in front of fire. Then she rinsed off his stink in the ocean and dressed in the wet clothes.

His gun was heavy strapped to her hip, but the sword felt right, about the same weight at her old one. She could see the bustle of a pirate town from her hiding spot near the small fire the naked pirate had built for himself. When she put her hand in his pocket she found a few reales she could use to get some information and maybe a drink or two.

So as most sailors did, Nicole headed to the tavern. Most taverns were home to the most information to be found anywhere. She settled on a small table near a window so she could keep a look outside. Her ship had gone down in a storm and she knew the chances of anyone surviving it were almost nothing. She may had used up all the ship’s luck making it to shore.

“Good morning,” an angelic voice pulled her attention back into the tavern.

“’Morning,” Nicole turned her head to see the barmaid standing at her table. She wanted to start asking questions, but she found her mouth wasn’t working anymore.

“Can I get you a drink?” the barmaid smiled at her. “You look like you need one.” She touched Nicole’s shoulder, then took her hand away. “You’re soaked.”

“My ship sank,” Nicole found her words. “I’m just her to find a way back home.”

“Oh,” Waverly put the mug she had been carrying down on an adjacent table. She sat down across from Nicole. “You poor thing.” She took Nicole’s hand and for a moment Nicole felt like she might faint.

She needed to eat. “Is there anywhere to get something to eat around here? I only have a few reales.”

The barmaid smiled again and Nicole felt her heart flutter. “I’ll get you something. You keep your gold.” She stood from the table and started to walk off.

“What’s your name?” Nicole asked.

The barmaid turned around with a quizzical look on her face. “Most people don’t ask that.”

Nicole smirked, finding herself again. “I’m not most people.”

Waverly smiled widely. She looked away from Nicole bashfully, then looked back. “Waverly.”

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Choose Your Mistakes #25

Part twenty-five of the interactive fanfiction, Choose Your Mistakes. Please check the FAQ and the Setting Info if you have questions, and be sure to make your choice below.

You chose to leave Malady behind

Originally posted by 30000fps

“Then let’s going,” you said.
“Yeah, this way,” he agreed, nodding to the hallway opposite the one that led to the forest. You glanced back at Malady, guilt ridden. You opened her hands, replacing the stethoscope. Her fingers closed tightly around it.
“I don’t know how to help you,” you whispered sadly, “I’m sorry. And thank you.” She didn’t respond. You gave her hands a hopeful squeeze before you left.
“I’ll be glad to be leaving her behind,” the man from the boat sneered as you walked down the next corridor. “I still don’t get why she’d help you and not me. I mean, what gives?”
“What did she do, anyway?” you asked, throwing him a sideways glance. The black bruises on his face seemed to have retreated to lurk around his eyes. You weren’t entirely sure they didn’t have a life of their own.
“What she’s told,” he growled, the black around his eyes darkening. You decided to drop the subject.

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You know what drives me crazy?

When the resident I am working with doesn’t explain ANYTHING to her patients. She doesn’t tell them the name of their diagnosis unless specifically asked. She doesn’t tell them the name of the medication she is going to give them. Her interactions go roughly like this. “Oh, that doesn’t look like cancer, it’s just a little something, I’ll give you a gel to clear it up and see you in three months.” 

Outside in the hall she explains to me, that’s rosacea, and I’m giving him metronidazole gel. 

And then, AND THEN, she gets annoyed when they don’t know what meds they are taking. You never freakin’ told them!

I’ve started asking in the room what “gel” or “cream” or “ointment” she’s prescribing, even when I know the answer, so that the patient can be at least a little bit in the loop. It’s probably making me look stupid, but I don’t care, I want patients to be involved in their care and know WTF is going on.