Patton who lives life to the fullest despite it. He finds beauty in everything. He describes sounds and smells in fun, goofy ways. He makes people laugh with joke about “reading” signs and menus.
Patton who pampers his seeing-eye dog even though he’s not supposed to. This has led to more than a few accidents, but none have left Patton seriously injured.
Patton feels so much, and he almost breaks down when people say the words “I wish you could see it…”
No one but Patton’s younger brother, Virgil, has ever seen Patton cry.
Patton lives for the moment he can reach out and touch a friend’s face for the first time. He makes them smile so he can feel the crinkle by their eyes and the warmth in their cheeks.
Patton who plays the piano at a local coffee shop to pass the time. (he has a habit of playing whatever melody is in his head)
Patton who is best friends with the coffee shop’s owner, Roman.
The local bookstore manager, Logan, is more than willing to order new braille books for Patton’s reading enjoyment.
This offer leads to Patton visiting Logan nearly everyday. He likes to hear Logan laugh. He likes to hear Logans voice. It’s all wonderful. Patton thinks it’s beautiful, even though he’s not quite sure what beauty is.
And Logan… Logan thinks Patton is beautiful, too. In his own special Patton way.
Just… blind Patton. Food for thought.
deaf logan?
*cracks knuckles*
Hold onto your feels, buddy pal friend.
Deaf Logan:
Logan is a reserved man who values knowledge above all else. If you have the knowledge, you don’t have to depend on others. (They don’t need to know you’re different.)
He doesn’t want to stand out.
The most adept lip-reader you’ll ever meet. (But even Logan has his limits. People who talk quickly make him anxious.)
He has hearing aids that help, but very little. He’s self conscious about people seeing them.
He doesn’t like to speak to strangers. Not being able to hear himself speak makes annunciation difficult. (It’s hard for him because he owns a bookshop. His best employee, Remy, is excellent with customer service, so he does most of the talking.)
Logan likes to teach others sign language, if he can. Mostly, they’re quick, simple things. “Hello,” “how are you?” and “thank you,” are the most common.
He meets Patton purely by accident. He was on his way to work when he saw Patton stumble into the street. He caught him before Patton had a chance to get hit by a bus.
Virgil will never let Patton hear the end of it. (Logan still receives a thank you text from Virgil every now and then.)
Speaking with Patton is rough at first, but he becomes more comfortable with his voice as Patton encourages him.
They practice hard consenents when Patton visits. (Those are the hardest for Logan) and he’s happy to note held been making some improvement.
When Patton first signs “I love you,” Logan is overwhelmed. He doesn’t speak, and Patton can’t see him frantically signing, “I love you, too.” This results in a very distraught Pattontrying to comfort a crying-with-joy Logan.
Just. Think about it. Deaf Logan.
I support this 1000000%
*cartwheels in* Mute Virgil? *cartwheel back out*
*catches you and whispers in your ear*
I see your mute Virgil and raise you:
Selective Mutism Virgil
Virgil who can’t speak in front of strangers or large crowds.
Virgil who begrudgingly learned sign language to cope but now uses it in everyday situations. (When people don’t know sign, he types his statement on his phone and shows them)
Virgil who is embarassed about his selective speaking, and thus only really talks to Patton when they’re at home.
Virgil who craves to be heard but can’t seem to voice his opinion when it really counts.
When he gets overwhelmed or argues with Patton, he loses his voice to anxiety, and he can only sign frantically while Patton (who sadly can’t see the signing) tries to calm him down.
Poor Virgil has a crush on Patton’s boisterous employer, Roman, but still hasn’t had a verbal conversation with the man. (But he’s texted Roman a few times. His contact has a crown by his name)
Virgil who has signing “contests” with Logan while Patton is reading. They try to see who can sign the fastest without pulling a muscle.
Virgil who can convey his message to Patton with a squeeze of his hand, and is overjoyed when Patton just knows.
Think of the moment Virgil finds the courage to stay in Roman’s cafe after hours with Patton, waiting until all of the other customers are gone so he can finally whisper, “hi,” to Roman for the first time. (Roman proceeds to bombard him with questions and scared Virgil back into silence.)
Imagine Virgil having his first conversation with Roman, soft and quiet in the closed cafe, stirring a cup of coffee slowly while Roman smiles and drinks in every word.
I mean. I love mute Virgil. But… Selective Mutism Virgil? Sign me up, kiddo.
Danse doesn’t know that women have periods. He never thought much whenever female soldiers would go use to bathroom for extended periods of time. A bit confused, but they have their own personal duties.
Hancock and Preston know /of/ women having periods, but no actual knowledge.
Nick, MacCready and Deacon know an average amount of knowledge on this subject.
They decided to wait until the reception was almost over.
Dark raked his eyes over the dancing crowd, picking out those who were drunk and more vulnerable to his manipulation. Waiting until the end of the reception gave them more time to party, meaning more drunk and susceptible people. More people to play with.
Anti stood by his side, glaring at the wedding cake.
“You do realize that killing everyone now means more cake for us, right?” He muttered to Dark, his eyes narrowing as a passing party goer sneakily snatched up another slice. “Why are we waiting?” He was itching to slip his knives into throats and eyes, ready to slice into limbs and anything else that poked out.
Ready to eat some of that delicious, dark chocolate heart attack of a cake that just screamed diabetes.
“Do you see how they’re chugging their drinks?“ Dark asked, motioning with his chin to a particular man who was tossing back glass after glass. “Drunk individuals are more likely to stumble and fall when running for their lives. Besides, wouldn’t you rather enjoy a nice slice of cake after a night of cold blooded murder?” He nudged Anti with his shoulder playfully.
Anti rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smirk that lifted up the corners of his lips. He was careful to not show his teeth, which are sharper and deadlier than the average humans. Sometimes he used them as torture devices, though only for particularly soft flesh.
For now he would wait until Dark deemed it time. Then he would enjoy himself.
Time passed, and Anti watched as more and more alcohol was consumed. This is how humans celebrate weddings? He asked himself, raising his eyebrow at the drunk groom who was attempting to motorboat an equally drunk bride. I’ve played board games with crazy people that made more sense than this.
A smaller woman with caramel skin and chocolate eyes waltzed her way over to Anti, giving him a shy smile. “Hey cutie, wanna dance?"
Anti surveyed her, glancing at Dark out of the corner of his eye. Dark was currently occupied with some blonde, who was giggling and tucking hair behind her ear. Dark was murmuring something to her, dragging a finger along her waist. Anti returned his attention back to the woman in front of him. "I don’t dance,” he told her, folding his arms over his chest. Now leave.
She cocked her head to the side, blinking at him. “Not even to slow songs?” She asked teasingly as a Sam Smith song came on, grabbing onto his hand.
Frowning, Anti looked down as she intertwined her small fingers with his. Her hand was miniature in comparison to his, to the point where it was laughable. The nerve she had. “Come on, dance with me. I won’t bite,” she promised.
He reluctantly let her tug him to the dance floor, sighing when she stopped and wrapped her arms around his neck. He glared down at her. “I might."
A slow smile crept up her lips as she stood on her tippy toes to whisper in his ear. "I might let you.” The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he found himself holding her closer, though he couldn’t explain why. .
They swayed slowly from side to side, with her looking up at Anti and him looking anywhere else. Dark was smirking at him from the drink table, and Anti could only roll his eyes at him. If Dark didn’t let him start killing soon, Anti was going to start the killing himself. Dark would be his first victim.
“You got a name?” The small woman caught his attention with her question. “Or do I have to mentally refer to you as hot emo guy all evening?”
Anti forced himself to look down at her, his gaze momentarily captured by her sparkling eyes. He wanted to say something sarcastic, like “You can refer to me as the man who is going to end your life”, but instead found himself murmuring, “I’m Anti.”
“That’s an interesting name,“ she responded as the song changed. Another slow one came on, one Anti didn’t recognize, and she pressed her body closer to his. "I’m Priscilla."
Anti didn’t know what was happening. He clutched Priscilla even closer to him, and she gasped slightly at his tight grip, but didn’t pull away. He wasn’t sure why, but Anti was feeling drawn to Priscilla all of a sudden. There was nothing special about her, really. She was just like every other human he had ever met; she would bleed and die the same way too. So why was he plagued with the urge to press his lips against hers? Why did he feel the need to pervade her mind and soul with the same darkness that haunted him every day?
Why did Anti want her to be just like him? What the hell was going on? And why did this all happen so quickly?
He pulled away slightly and looked down at Priscilla, knotting his eyebrows together. What was so special about her? Was it the romantic setting? The song? Did he have a fever? Why was it suddenly hot? He opened his mouth to speak, though be wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, and ended up closing it again. She reached up slowly and ran her fingers through his hair, an action that felt so good he actually groaned out loud.
She pressed her lips softly against his, and he found himself momentarily relaxing. Her lips were soft, as he thought they might be, and their warmth was very welcome.
Then she was ripped from his arms, and Anti’s eyes widened as he saw Dark behind her, winking at him. In one movement he was sliding a beautiful blade across her throat, and thick blood began to run everywhere.
Anti could only watch as all signs of life drained from her eyes, and Dark simply let her fall to the floor. She didn’t make a single sound through the whole ordeal, but her horrified eyes never left Anti’s.
Screams sounded from everywhere as people began to crowd around and demand what Dark thought he was doing.
"It’s time,” Dark announced amidst the chaos, pulling another knife from his waistband. He gave Anti a knowing look. “You ready?”
Anti cast one last glance down at Priscilla, who looked back up at him with lifeless eyes. He felt like he should say something about her, anything, but the excitement of it being murder time overwhelmed him. Goodbye Priscilla, he thought as he pulled out his own blades. All the crazy emotions from a few moments ago were gone, and he felt a burst of energy shoot through his body. A few of the party goers had the sense to start running, and he watched as Dark chased them. I might have let you live.
I wasn’t sure when I realized it. It could have been during the start of the siege, or perhaps it was at those short, bloody moments when I surrendered myself to the blood fury of my race. We Solans are…emotional. We feel everything so strongly that we have encased our society in layers of pomp and circumstance, law and rule to insulate us from the uglier, more painful emotions. We pride ourselves on it.
That is why, when I saw the full weight of a humans fury, I was stunned into sheer silence. It was unlike anything I had ever seen. I expected to see these men, stripped of their homes and dignity to let loose hateful roars, rebel yells of sheer unadulterated defiance as they tore through the enemy ranks.
Instead, I was shown a rare and far more unnerving display. They advanced. Silent. Calm. Collected. Eyes like gimlets, glittering with sheer, focused hate. Their enemy was upon them, and they moved without a wasted thought, without breath wasted. Somewhere inside me, a primal, broken fear escaped my lips, a small cry of incredulity that signaled my defeat. These mere men were destroying us. These apes were rending our ranks apart with precision that was equal parts uncanny and unnerving.
After I was captured, and I was stood in front of the tribunal, I recounted my tales. They seemed unsurprised by this act of valour, noting it as “The Battle of Carveil,” and nothing more. I was put into a dungeon, held for ransom, and eventually ransomed off back to my family. But I will never forget those haunting, dead stares. There is no explanation for the fear me and fellow soldiers felt from those apes, dressed in heavy burdens of iron, their eyes shining through the dark veils of their helms, their voices silent, their bodies steady and calm. They were a fury that I have never felt, the fury of a creature pushed so far into darkness that they become it. I realize, only now, that compared to them, we are merely spectators, living in borrowed shells, made of wildly swinging emotions.
I’m sorry; you asked me a simple question and I gave you such a long answer. Why do I fear the humans? Because, contrary to the belief of many of our kin, the sons of men are not monsters. They have a more terrifying, and insidious feature.
I feel so all alone No one’s gonna fix me when I’m broke How do you cry with inanimate eyes? You’re never gonna smile with the way that you’re wired And I feel so all alone
(sketch 425: All Alone by Fun’s music has what I can only describe as a ‘unbalanced bounce’ to it, the music I would associate with Wilford’s eccentric but unstable personality.) 🙂
Have you ever thought “Man, I feel impossibly shitty and I don’t know why”?
Run through this checklist before you do anything else.
What have I eaten in the last 24 hours? Is it enough? If not, go and eat some food, you butt.
Am I hydrated? If not, put some fluids in your body, fool.
Have I slept an acceptable amount in the last 24 hours and preceeding few days? If not, do your utmost to have a nap. You need a reset, bro.
Have I been outside/partaken in whatever form of exercise I am capable of? You’re stagnating, homie.
Have I communicated with anyone? At all? About anything? In the last 24 hours? Sup, you’re not actually a lone wolf, and even if you’re just shouting BUTTLUMPS at someone over the intertubes, it’s better than shouting it at yourself inside your own head.
So basically: eat, drink, sleep, walk, and talk. If you still feel like emotional ass after that, start looking for more involved explanations.
This shit is no joke.
All of these are extremely important.
Adding: 6. Have I communicated too much? Am I overstimulated? Do I need some quiet time? Go stare at a blank wall in utter silence for a bit.
I try to go through this kind of checklist whenever I feel funky. It really helps.
