It’s not what I want to say. Not even close. It’s blasphemy; I stopped believing in God years ago, when things first started to hurt, but it’s sinning against her all the same. Or, more accurately, it’s too close. There is too much of what I want to say in between those five words. To want her to die is too much; it is terrible, terrifying, to want a graveside to mourn beside. And I don’t want that. Not really. But I do.
I wish she were dead. I don’t want her to die. Both the one wish. Two sides of the same truth.
I can stand it sometimes, for days at a time. There are always things to laugh at, things to smile about. Her joy at ordinary things. Her laughter at that one old joke. Her eagerness to please. Her innocence, childlike despite her fragile frame and all she’s done. All those years built up behind her. The monolith of her life, crumbling.
And then it is too much. The furrow in her brow when she tries to think of a name that matches the face before her, the face she’s seen a thousand times, the face she’s loved. The longing for old photographs and the despondency once they’re in her hands, her fingertips resting atop the film of dust, desperate not to disturb it; if the photograph is somehow obscured, there is a reason for not knowing. There is an excuse. The panic she feels at her own, unfamiliar heartbeat. The blood in her veins is an unknown. Her skin is alien.
And it is then that I want her to die. I am tired of mourning. I have mourned for years, clutching at her, trying to hold firm as she runs through my fingers like water. Her whole being is a cemetery. Each memory is a gravestone. Her thoughts are bodies, decaying. Skeletal. Then dust. There is nothing living there. She has had death in her for a decade.
Only, she lives, doesn’t she? She lives and she laughs and she loves the things she remembers how to love, and we love her back, fiercely, as though our fearsome love can claw her back from the underworld, can bridge those spaces in her brain and pull her back to us. We can’t, of course. She isn’t hiding in those spaces; she hasn’t fallen to the bottom of some pit or abyss in her mind. She has been consumed by them. Turned inside out. The abyss is her mind.
And of course I don’t want her to die. I don’t want to bury any more of her. I am tired of the burden of heaping sand. I am tired of grieving. I’m sick with it. Every day is a funeral of sorts. Every conversation is a eulogy. She hums half-remembered hymns in her chair, songs from her childhood without words. We sweep up the ashes she leaves in her wake. And we mourn until our throats are hoarse.
I am terrified that she will hollow herself out and we will have nothing left to bury.
This is what I want:
to mourn perfectly, all at once, and for all of her. To put an end to this piecemeal sorrow. Not to lose her years before she’s gone. To say this who she was, this is who we’ve lost. To remember her as she was, when she still remembered us. Not to have exhausted my grief before the end of her life. To have something, somebody left to lament. For her to die alongside her body, and not before it.
I’d like to suggest that we consider Louis’s and Liam’s public personae being so out of their hands right now as indication that Niall and Harry are similarly constrained and that what we publicly see as their “decisions” may in actuality not be up to them.
I’ve been in therapy for two months, on medication for one month, and been exercising and eating right for two weeks.
This morning while dancing around my room to Whitney Houston I realized I wasn’t sad or anxious, I wasn’t numb or angry. This morning, for the first time that I can remember I was happy for no other reason than the fact that I was alive.
I know this doesn’t mean I’m suddenly cured. I still have to take my meds and keep exercising and eating healthy. I know there will be days where nothing will make the dark clouds go away. But that doesn’t mean it’s impossible to heal.
I guess what I’m trying to say is I hope one day you find yourself dancing to Whitney Houston, and being thankful you’re alive.
This is the one thing that bothers me most about boatbang: you mean to tell me that Jon “I Don’t Want to Father a Bastard” Snow would question D@ny’s claim that she’s barren and then willingly have sex with her anyway? 🤔
I’m hoping D&D’s writing this season isn’t truly that terrible, but at this point who knows.
Oh boy do I. Hercules was one of the Disney movies I mentally kinked the most when I was still discovering things and I think the birth of my measuring kink PLUS definitely helped with my muscle kink. Also Hercules was way ahead of it’s time and I think underappreciated.
I will also I used to watch the old TV series with it too where Hercules went to high school which I also loved. So I might slip in some details from there too. Because while I don’t remember everything, I do remember these dorks:
(this shows that Herc is no Adonis (literally) in high school but he also doesn’t skip leg day like Adonis did)
First off muscle stuff:
This is honestly what I wished the movie and the TV series would have touched on even more mostly because it’s my jam, but it really would have made sense in the TV series as he’s training. The good news is despite being clumsy and lanky, Herc has a good trainer in Phil who knows what he’s doing to help Hercules grow and not have any major physical weaknesses. Not like that other guy. Achilles.
A lot of the training that Phil does helps with Herc’s body to reach peak physical performance. And while, yes he does measure muscles, I still think that’s probably secondary to Herc hitting the rest of the numbers that he needs to like strength and stamina. With the kind of training that Phil has Hercules do, honestly Hercules is in prime shape. It would make him have immense strength (more than he still had I mean), have great stamina both muscular and cardiovascular, be agile, and people forget flexible. That means even as he grows his muscles, he’s still very flexible in what he does. It’s actually very likely he’s not even as muscular as he COULD be if he was focusing strictly on muscle size. So you have to imagine that Hercules is very well proportioned and ripped as hell (so the cartoon wouldn’t even do it justice since stylized). I mean think of it this way, when they say built like a greek God, this case it literally applies. (Also @dumdumdrawstumtums think about Hercules squatting when he’s having to pick up that massive boulder. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) )
But the flexibility part is always fun to think about because Hercules is probably like a gymnast in terms of flexibility so he could like have to do the split or a butterfly stretch while reading a scroll or having to put his leg straight in the air while Phil gives him orders. It would be funny because everyone else would be amazed in the various positions his gets into and holds but Hercules would just think was completely normal.
Now high school would have been interesting for Herc. We saw some of it in the TV series where he’s still kind of the doofy outcast with Cassandra and Icarus and picked on by the popular kids. But everyone also knows who and what he is and what he’s training for. While he didn’t have the physique yet that a lot of the other more popular jocks had, he was in training. First off and I’ll get to it a little bit later more but I’m sure that Phil would have made Hercules go on a bulking diet at least SOME point during high school if not switching to it full time.
But there definitely would be a point that even as a hard gainer (which he might be just from sheer amount of working out and we know the result) that Herc does start to bulk up. The good news/bad news of that situation of Herc’s clothes is that he can’t really outgrow his toga outfit since it pretty much shows everything or is loose anyway. On the plus side, it would show off any improvements pretty readily. The fun idea though is that because he’s showing off his body almost all the time anyway, is that he might start growing his muscles and no one would notice right away since it wouldn’t be tight. It might not be until he’s having to play sports in a uniform (or shirts and skins) or he’s big enough that his skin is starting to stretch on his chest and arms that people start to notice. I’m not sure what the reaction to everyone would be especially from the jocks since I imagine they would feel threatened but past that I don’t know. It’s possible there could be a change from him being the nerd kid to being more popular or not since people were sort of expecting him to gain muscle.
(Guilty confession: I had Hercules on VHS and I would slow this tape measuring part down to watch it frame by frame. Also always wished I could have muscles like Herc. Well and a trainer.)
Now once Hercules is actually being a hero and being really popular I think things would change a bit. He’s already famous for his pecs and the rest of his muscle and obviously still having to fight but is enjoying some of his celebrity. I think it’s very easy to assume during some of his appearances that he’d flex and show off to his fans and I imagine that he might be given things to break or flex out of all the time. His leather suit covers a lot of his chest and abs, though I like to think he dresses down occasionally or gets wet and has to take it off so he really is showing off. Plus I think it would be fun during an appearance if he was convinced to take off his armor and leave it at his waist and since he’s still really shy, be shy about it but show off. (Actually I think he’d sort of go between being overly confident and showing off but then also have streaks of shyness that hit him so he’d be flexing and super shy like Makoto Tachibana.) Plus I’m pretty sure while she doesn’t admit it, that Megara loves getting a muscle show from Herc.
Though I do like the idea because Phil is both his trainer and manager that he’d book Hercules for things that he doesn’t like as much like in actual bodybuilding or physique contest or as celebrity judging or for art exhibits. He’s already kind of done it before with the Scar/Nemian lion but it’s just as easy that with his “pair of pretty pecs” that he’d have to show off both for the public with his flexing or having to hold poses for pottery or art. Plus we already know he’s the type that just gets down to start to doing push-ups and other exercises at a moments notice. It’s hard to decide because there are times where he’d be into the celebrity and be fine with showing off and flexing and other times where he’d be very shy and not want to do it at all.
Now onto belly stuff:
Hercules HAS to be a big eater. Because of what we know with his training and when he bulked up, he would have had to start in high school and would probably have been commanded to eat by Phil. Honestly, Herc probably was an eater before his training and drained his poor parents dry due to his metabolism running so fast thanks to his demigod powers and strength. Add to that all the additional training that Phil has him do and his body is aching for calories, and that’s just to freaking maintain! This is pretty much the textbook definition of a hard gainer.
So probably sometimes during high school when Phil thought his training was progressing enough, he’d tell him he’d have to up his calorie intake. I could see him asking Cassandra and Icarus to help make sure that Herc got enough calories and that’s probably just with the lunch that he brought with him. But I like to think that his friends would be encouragers and trying to get him to always eat more. Plus with how some of the other high school students are, there are bound to be eating contests and proving just how much that he can eat in front of others. I think that it would be fairly common that other students would give him part of their food in addition to his own so gradually he’d expand his capacity. This is where his toga would come in handy because it would allow his belly to just swell into it and basically make it so everyone can get a really good look at just how bloated he is. It may not be directly showing his swollen abs, but it would definitely round out the front of his toga. If they are lucky, he might have to undo it or it will just be too tight and it pops open during his eating and everyone sees.
When he’s an adult might be even harder. Because of his armor, he doesn’t have as much freedom to expand so Herc probably has to legitimately plan to eat or binge. It’s easy to imagine that Herc would have an eating challenge as either a promotional thing or even as one of his different trials that he had to do and had to make sure that he took off his armor in order to expand. That way it would be a much more public display as he was eating, though you could also do it when he’s at home and definitely can let loose. Him letting loose while at home is probably what he does the most often just because of how big and how much he’d eat.
The best idea is probably that Phil many times still is being his coach even when eating. I happen to think that Hercules probably isn’t the type that actually lose it and binge on his own, he’s always being pushed. He has to do it to keep up his muscle so it’s near a chore or having to do it to perform for the masses. So Phil would be the type that make sure Hercules comes back to a huge feast that he has to clear before he goes to bed to try to sleep it off, with Hercules belching and struggling with his belly from a stomachache (not from weight because of how strong, though the being difficult from center of gravity is certainly a thing) as he waddles off to bed. Phil is also the type that would make sure that Hercules would have something to eat several times during the day to keep up his stamina.
It’s hard to say what Megara would think of his eating. It would be easy to say that she would be an encourager but because of how late she comes into his life as far as physically, I actually expect most of his eating would be habit for him and probably publicly well known. I think Hercules would probably be pretty shy about having Megara see him eat for a long time, though she’d probably seduce him into seeing it at least once to see if it is a potential weakness. Which it is. So it’s very likely that Hades tries to use his eating to take him down several times. Either by Megara trying to keep him going on his eating and push him farther and farther or by having him eat bigger and bigger things or by trying to poison him (which either Phil has tried to work out of him or his powers also help him there). Again the fun idea is that at first Megara is kind of amazed and disgusted on how much he eats and how big his belly gets but eventually comes to like it. I do see Megara trying to seduce him to keep Hercules going by like tracing her finger over his belly and belly button, helping to feed him, giving him wine to drink, helping rub his belly to help him burp and keep going and Hercules just falling for it hook, line, and sinker.
There’s one last idea too of that all his fans would know of his “love” of food (because again HAS to) and everyone would want to give him food. I can imagine that there would be a fan appreciation day that Phil would set up where Hercules would just have to eat everything that his fans would give him. And I’m sure that would exploited by Hades and send Pain and Panic to do something but it would probably fail because they would drop the food or whatever was in it just didn’t affect him because he had so much food.
As far as vore ideas, I admit even when I was younger I always thought of the idea that Hercules would have to eat the various monsters that he defeated both to help him bulk up and just to make sure that he could get rid of them and make sure that they didn’t attack again. I realize this would give him a MASSIVE belly but those were the whims of my heart when I was younger. I’m sure THAT would be hard to carry out but it would be an interesting idea. Like if he did do something like that, I imagine just by sheer size that it would take Hercules DAYS to work off that kind of a meal where he would just be pinned under his belly or laying on top of his belly in the air. Still that would be a lot of protein and probably something hard to miss out on.
As far as other possibilities, especially if you’re talking about in high school, it’s definitely more possible that he would do it there since there were more human or humanoid villains that would be easy for him to eat. There’s also the idea that as part of his binges that he’d be bet on how much he could eat and someone suggests that he eats someone. He’d definitely be reluctant and try to get out of it but probably fall to peer pressure because that’s what he does. Icarus would probably think it was cool and volunteer as long as it wasn’t permanent. I also imagine that there could even be some type of fortune from Cassandra saying that he had to eat. Well it could work two ways. Either there was a fortune saying that he would have to eat someone or that he had to eat someone in order to avoid a terrible fate. (I also wouldn’t mind if young Herc ate Adonis as a type of revenge).
It is possible that Phil would have Herc eat someone as additional training as a “just in case” scenario. Though I do like the idea that Phil was giving advice and Hercules misinterpreted because of lack of words and thought that Phil was saying he needed to eat his enemies or something.
Growing up, harder to say who or what he’d eat, though I do like the whole standby idea of Hercules eating people as an evacuation method. Basically after a disaster because it’s easier to have his hands free and run around, Hercules would eat survivors to protect them and then be able to get himself out of trouble while everyone was in his belly. Let him evacuate a whole town from a volcano that way.
I will say it would be funny to see Megara after Herc ate someone or something, though the size of his gut would probably change her reaction. I think it would be funny if she came to visit and then nearly fainted when she saw him laying down with a massive belly and he was struggling to burp and breathe.
me, internally: for one the majority of romantic comedy these days relies on heteronormative and/or sexist as well as harmful stereotypes that the media forces down our throats on a daily basis anyway (women obsessing either over Her Man or “womens hobbies” like shopping which are portrayed as silly and vain, double standards in regards to the man’s misdeeds, several women ‘competing’ in catfights for the same boring white bread dude with a personality like a carp we’ve seen a million times but he has money and looks good so it’s okay, the main character needing to change several aspects of herself to be liked by a man which is portrayed as desirable (also known as the Makeover), etc. ad nauseum i could go on all day). In addition the plots are usually predictable and unengaging since the movie relies on the romantic aspect to draw their audience, thus neglecting other aspects of the story as well as well rounded characterization of the main leads and reverting back to stereotypes to fill the blank space, causing the actual romance at best to look flat and unoriginal and at worst borderline abusive. The comedy aspect as well tends to be neglected this way, relying on cheap laughs to contrast the contrived drama and using the aforementioned stereotypes as easy punchlines, usually at one of the character’s expenses
me, internally: but mostly the portrayal of people falling in love and experiencing successfull romantic pursuits as well as socializing regularly with a large group of friends and engaging in enjoyable hobbies as well as reaching a happy end through all hardship with the support of their loved ones and own mental strength just hits home too hard as i realize what a bitter emotionally constipated mentally ill fuck ive grown into and that my chances of achieving an equally satisfying dating life that appeals to me personally (the kinds of which are represented extremly rarely in mainstream media) are virtually zero. which is why i avoid rom-coms so i do not have to be confronted with the failings of my personal life which are the result of my own shit personality
me, externally: haha I just think they’re kinda silly
YELLS. A LOT. Okay, now that I got that out of my system…
It’s only been a month, and I’m actually kind of shocked at how well received this blog has been and how much traction it gained in a short amount of time, considering how old my muse’s series is. the fandom may be barely alive, but the love and appreciation for InuYasha certainly hasn’t died at all, and I’m so happy for that! all of you have made this trip back to 90′s nostalgia so wonderful, and the positive reception of my portrayal is such a relief, considering how popular a character he is. I look forward to continue having this annoying doggo harass the hell out of ya’ll.
By the time Elliott got to the restaurant, Liam was waiting for him with an unbridled glare. Elliott half expected a slap in the face when Liam strode toward him - it had never happened before, even during their worst fights heading into the breakup, but Elliott wouldn’t have put it past him.
“You’re late, Chapman,” Liam snapped, though Elliott thought he saw a flicker of…something in his face. It might have been sympathy, but it disappeared so quickly that he could just as easily have imagined it. “What do you have to say for yourself, then?”
Elliott opened his mouth to reply, to tell him he was sick, he shouldn’t even be here to begin with when he wasn’t scheduled, but he didn’t have a chance to form so much as a syllable before his nose twitched. Liam was the last person he wanted to sneeze around, but he didn’t get a choice in the matter as he hastily twisted to the side.
“hh’EHGKTzISSH’u!” Wincing, he emerged from his forearm, trying to blink away the pounding ache that spiked in his temple. His throat burned, and he didn’t trust himself to speak without coughing.
Liam recoiled, and in his haze, Elliott couldn’t tell whether it was out of disgust or…other reasons. “Good lord, keep that to yourself, will you?”
Elliott scowled and cleared his raw throat. He tried to pretend the comment didn’t sting - he supposed he should’ve expected it. “Tryi’g. You’re the ode called mbe id. How lo’g ab I worki’g, adyway? You ndever said.”
Elliott knew he was pushing his luck, but Liam, for once, did not admonish him for his bristly tone. Instead he seemed to genuinely consider it. “Through the lunch rush, at least, and quite probably through dinner as well. I suppose I did say you could do half, inconvenient as it is…”
“Yes,” Liam said briskly. “We are short today, as I said. So I’ll need you as long as possible.”
Elliott stared, mouth hanging open. He wasn’t sure if it was the fever or the shock of Liam blatantly ignoring how ill he was that was muddling his head, but either way, he didn’t have enough time to sort out his thoughts before Liam spoke again.
“Get to work now, will you?” With that, Liam turned on his heel to wait his own tables, leaving Elliott standing, stunned and shivery, in the lobby. He wished more than anything that he could keep his sweatshirt on while he worked, but alas, he hung it on the hook in the coat room and clocked in before trudging to his section. He was freezing, and it made him cough each time the tremors tore through him.
As he rattled off the specials to the couple at his first table, he kept stumbling over the words, trying not to stammer or sniffle. In the end, he wasn’t sure how much they even heard through the thickness in his voice, and he didn’t care. He had to sneeze so badly that he barely scribbled down their orders and took their menus before he wheeled around and buried his face in his elbow.
“hh’GSsSH’mpf! hnh’nKGTZSHh! h-hh-hAH! AEGKJISsSHU!” Trying to hold them back did absolutely nothing but make the last of the triple harsher and wetter. He bit back a groan as he straightened, increasingly aware of how badly his body ached and how much he wished he could just sit down.
“What did I say about keeping that to yourself?”
Elliott jumped, snapping his head up to find Liam in front of him, arms crossed. Elliott didn’t have the will to argue, and his words came out feeble and hoarse. “Told you, I’b tryi’g. Y’kdow I cad’t stop theb like–” Like you can.
Liam’s frown deepened, though he glossed over Elliott’s unfinished reminder as if he hadn’t heard it at all. “Be that as it may, I won’t be losing customers because one of my employees is–disgusting–around the food.” He tripped over the middle of the sentence, and Elliott knew what he’d meant to say. Sneezing. He was sneezing around the food, and Liam still had trouble saying the word in public.
“Either that or spe’d half the day sdeezi’g id the bathroob,” Elliott muttered with a tired sniffle. “A’d you’ve already mbade it clear what you thigk of that.”
Liam appeared to be considering his employee’s predicament, lips pursed in a thin line. He soon made it clear, however, that this was not the case. “Regardless, have some courtesy. You can do as you please later.”
“Rhh-huh’IGHJShihSsH!..right…” Elliott breathed, dissolving into a regrettable bout of coughing. God, he wished Liam weren’t such an arse. He’d give just about anything for a bit of rest and a hot cup of tea. It would at least soothe his throat, which had been destroyed by the single sneeze.
“Did you even bother to take anything this morning?” Liam asked, clipped and irritable. If Elliott hadn’t known better, he might have mistaken it for some sort of abrasive concern. But of course, Liam had to be long over him. It had been months, after all.
Elliott balked at the question. “Nd-doh,” he admitted, sheepishly. “Forgot.”
Liam sighed, exasperated. “Of course you did.” He turned to leave without a hint of sympathy, nor an offer to let him off - as if Elliott expected either. “Just don’t pass out on me, alright?”
Elliott had taken to absently massaging his temple with the heel of his hand, and though he was sure he might fall asleep if he stood still too long, he replied with a mumbled, “Woulded’t dreab of it…”
Despite what he said, Elliott couldn’t shake the bone deep exhaustion that had him dragging through the entirety of lunch. He did his best not to look as miserable as he felt, but if he accomplished even a fraction of the attentiveness he didn’t have, he would have been amazed. Three times he wrote an order down wrong and had to stumble back to the kitchen to exchange it, each time earning him a grumble from Liam and a look of pity from anyone in the vicinity. Twice, he was asked why he was there, and when he offered his reasoning, his co-workers were stunned that even Liam would keep him there looking as awful as he did.
Elliott himself did his best to avoid the mirrors in the bathroom, especially when he ducked in to succumb to another sneezing fit. He didn’t need to make it worse by seeing how terrible he looked with his own eyes. It was enough to read the looks on everyone’s faces, ranging anywhere from poorly concealed disgust to deep concern.
Still, he managed, for the most part, to keep pace with the rush until near the end when a series of dizzy spells overtook him. He was aware by now that his fever had risen, and while he tried to ignore it, it was wearing him out. His shirt stuck to his back and he shivered each time a draft hit him. He was on his way back to a table, bearing a tray of drinks when he caught himself stumbling sideways. He caught himself against the wall, but in the process sacrificed the tray and its contents to the floor with a loud CLANG!
Someone came over and put a hand on his shoulder. “Whoa, hey, are you alright?” It took him a minute to realize it was Gabriel, one of the restaurant’s newer employees - a tall, lanky fellow about Elliott’s age, and kind as anything. Elliott was grateful for the steadying hand as he tried to straighten and regain focus through the fog in his brain.
“Y-yeah, I’b fihh-huh–IGKtZIhSSH!” The sneeze cut him off, and he was immediately bracing himself against the wall again, bent almost double. “Hehh-hh’EHJSsSHISH! hah’AEGHSsChU! hih’yIGHTSsSCHU! h-haehh–EIJhSSCHISSH’uh!” Gabriel kept a steady hold on his arm, and if Elliott were honest, it was half the reason he didn’t sink to the floor then and there. He brought his free hand to his face, covering clumsily with the back of his wrist when the sneezes kept coming. “h-hih’IhJSCHISH’U! huh’UHKgTZISSH’h! hah’AEHJSZHISHh! huh’EHGKTzISSHU!”
Each one was explosive and had him curling in on himself. He couldn’t take a full breath between, and even if he could, breathing hurt after all the coughing he’d done over the course of the day. He couldn’t even attempt to stop the sneezes, they were so forceful, so insistent, so merciless.
Gabriel’s hand left his shoulder, and for a moment, Elliott was sure he would fall over. He tried to open his eyes to see where his co-worker had gone, but each time, he had to slam them shut again. “hiEHh–EHZhJISsSH’U! huh’UHkGTZSCH! Hh-h-hehh! IDhJzSSCH’u!”
Just as Elliott was considering letting himself drop, the hand returned, and this time with another that pressed several paper napkins into Elliott’s own. He hadn’t thought about it until now, so wrapped up was he in remaining on his feet, but he desperately needed them. He crushed them to his face as the fit finally tapered off, blowing his nose in the aftermath. The ordeal left his head spinning, and Gabriel steadied him when he swayed.
“Are you certain you’re okay?” Gabriel asked. “I don’t have a car, but I can call a cab for you.”
Elliott had time neither to answer nor recover before another voice cut in.
“Oi, what’s going on here?” Elliott blinked in an effort to clear away the fuzzy blackness at the edges of his vision and found Liam, gesturing to the pool of drinks on the floor. “What are you two doing? This isn’t the time for tea and cuddles, in case you hadn’t noticed.” He pointed at Gabriel with a sharp jab of his finger. “You - clean that up while I deal with him.”
“But–Liam–” Gabriel started.
“I said take care of it!” Liam barked, and then turned to Elliott without leaving any room for discussion. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, anyway?”
“S..sdeezi’g…” Elliott mumbled. Both his own voice and Liam’s sounded distant in his ears, and he was surprised at how difficult it was to get the one word out. It was like speaking through molasses, like his lips had gone numb and he had forgotten how to make words.
“Well, don’t just stand there,” Liam said, nearly shouting at him. “Your table is waiting, and now you’ve been here for god knows how long chatting with the new boy–”
“Liam, you’re being a bit hard on him,” said someone else, a girl - Alisa. She was always sticking up for Elliott when Liam came down hard on him, and Elliott was especially grateful for it right now. He was starting to zone out of the conversation, only catching snippets of what they were saying. His hearing faded in and out, though he caught a bit where Liam barked at him again to retrieve another tray of drinks.
Elliott willed his legs to move, but they wouldn’t budge. “Liab…” he said, barely a whisper. “I…I ndeed t’ sit d…” He didn’t manage to finish the sentence as the blackness encroached and the scene blurred before him.
“Watch it, he’s–!”
Elliott didn’t get to hear what he was. He was only aware of his body going weak, and then his knees buckled. He didn’t feel himself hit the floor.
BK: During Aang and Zuko’s heyday, the ability to bend lightning was an incredibly rare skill usually reserved for the inner circles of Fire Nation royalty and high-ranking military officers. Now, in the thick of the Avatar world’s own Industrial Age, we see that this skill is, while not widespread, common enough that it is practiced by blue-collar workers changing up massive batteries in the city’s power plants. This kind of work is incredibly taxing on a person’s chi reserves; that’s why the plant bosses tend to get desperate, strapping young men like Mako to sign up for the grueling task. Mako designs by Jin-Sun Kim and Ki-Hyun Ryu. Color by Sylvia Filcak-Blackwolf. Background design by Eun-Sang Yang. Painting by Emily Tetri.