🐌 in bio = no socials break/communication slowdown
Me: Mildly maniacal mountain man (approximate). Hugely enthusiastic and helpful, if sometimes brusque— my inbox is always open, same with my asks. I have a truly concerning number of interests, but at the core is creativity and learning. I love to push myself to learn new things and improve my skills. Ignore the associated wip graveyard please.
Hugely anti censorship. If you think that makes me problematic, good, screw off.
I'm over 30 and while intergenerational friendships are incredibly important, I'm bad at self censoring and like lewd shit, so 🔞 this is NOT a minor friendly space 🔞 If you're old enough to be online unsupervised then you're old enough to curate your experience: I am not the one to get upset with if you hang here anyway and see something you are uncomfortable with. I wont police where you go online, but I'd rather you not engage with my works, please look up 00s internet safety recs for minors.
Currently hugely into the Fallen Hero Games and very down to nerd out about the impacts of telepathy on sense of self.
I'm frankly terrible at tagging but I do my best: #my art and #my writing (plus #raz becker if you're looking for my Sidestep) are the most reliable...
Also trying to be brave and write/share fanfic:
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
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yknow its interesting how something can impact one demographic in a completely different way than everyone else. in the exorcist when the demon starts speaking in greek, to most people its creepy. but if youre greek and you suddenly start hearing the demon speak perfect fucking greek its genuinely the biggest scare of the movie. you just do not expect to ever hear your language in american movies so it catches you so badly off guard, it feels like the movie is talking directly to you
the first time my dad saw it, it was with his american friends. and when she started speaking greek he turned to one of them and was like "re malaka did you hear that in english?"
thanks for asking! <3 trying my best to answer these with the same approach as before, but I'm a little tapped out, so i apologize for clunkiness.
what are the 5 most listened to songs on your spotify?
"I don't listen to as much music anymore. Back… before, though… I never stopped listening then. I couldn't tell you the names of any songs though." The corner of his mouth goes a little tighter, maybe a trace of a joke. "I just download everything, never named the files, played it all on shuffle. Ricardo always complained about that."
when is your birthday?
"I don't have an answer for that."
The response is dull, no microexpressions that you can see. No gestures either, not like when you asked about his favorite flower. Your thoughts circle back to that earlier question anyway.
"Is that because you cant remember?"
"No."
You wait, the moments stretching, but eventually you decide that this time there really isnt more of an answer coming.
have you ever won a trophy for anything?
Raz looks towards the window again, once more that gesture, thumb along index finger. He admitted that eating was difficult, you wonder if this is somehow the same.
"Not the good kind." A slow breath fills the space between you, and you wonder if you're imagining a tremor in it.
💭 what's something you can't stop thinking about ?
🖊 do you have any tattoos ? any piercings ? (More piercing directed lol)
For Raz!
Thanks for the ask! I'm going to try my best to answer these too for ya (try being the operative word)
I dont think I can effectively work much more into that chronological minific approach (I'll do some formatting for cohesion/questions and post it on ao3 later, maybe), so please no one send me more lmao! but the same premise as this little series applies, 2nd person pov of an investigative journalist, asking "icebreaker" questions at the start of an interview
what is your favorite place you've visited?
It isnt quite a baseline question; you're asking this one in the hopes of a smile. You agreed to interview Becker— Sidestep, then and now— without much information on why, but you knew it would be bad. People don't ever leave the side of the angels for good reasons. Still, you're good at what you do because you look at all the angles, and you want to know what happiness looks like in him.
Something about Raz' expression softens, though you're not quite sure what does, maybe a little of the tension around his eyes slackening.
"Honestly? Here. Los Diablos. It was just a.. place the first time. Too hot and loud. But I came back. The reason I did didn't actually… well. I didn't do that. But I stayed, as long as I could. Came back again as soon as I could. It's…"
"Home?" You offer the word with a smile of your own,understanding at least some of it. Los Diablos has a draw for you too, in a way few cities ever have.
"Yes. It's home. I don't want to die anywhere else…"
what's something you can't stop thinking about?
"Thoughts are… Strange. I don't know if telepathy is the reason, or if it's something with how— It's all rooms. I just close the doors. I know it's probably dangerous, but sometimes… I know I can't do this if I don't shut the worst away."
His hand is halfway to his face when Raz seems to notice it, and he sets it back down on the wooden table. "So to answer your question, nothing. I just put it away."
(lmao did he take this a bit too literally? yeaaap)
do you have any tattoos? any piercings? (More piercing directed lol)
Becker only shakes his head.
(the only piercing he'd be remotely interested in would be a tongue ring😂 and he'd end up chipping his teeth on it cause of playing with the damned thing. eyooo oral fixation)
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i do not “delete sentences” when they start “hindering the plot” i COPY PASTE THEM into a SEPARATE DOC made just for keeping all my USELESS LINES that i will also NEVER USE so therefore i should JUST DELETE THEM but i DONT because id FEEL BAD if i did
5 hours left on this, I'd especially love to hear thoughts or reasoning if you have the mental space to! I've got itchy fingers 😅 I probably will end up rewriting if it feels right once i start, so opinions on how to approach sharing the rewrite extra appreciated <33
Decided I'm going to approach these questions as if Raz is being interviewed by a journalist, that he's promised to be honest, and that these and the next two asks are all warmup questions before the deeper interview. Cause otherwise he'd just ignore the questions and that obviously doesn't work for an ask meme lmao. So…. 2nd person POV: "Investigative Journalist."
Thanks so much for getting my brain going in a really unexpected and fun way!
Raz Becker looks up from the project on the table, his knuckles paling slightly as his grip on the soldering iron tightens. Annoyance doesn't shift his voice from it's baseline, a dry flatness that's far too easy to read as irritation, but which Charge has warned you actually isn't, at least usually.
"Did Ricardo put you up to that? Because it wasn't funny the first time either. It doesn't even rhyme."
Charge did, in fact, put you up to that, said it'd break the ice, but you're guessing it was to prove his point. Noted.
(if this is how you learn that "Raz" has a long A, and is closer to rhyming with Jaws and Flaws than Jazz and Pizzazz… I apologize. I mislead you with "Snazzy Razzy." I am a criminal. And it's all 'cause I think Ortega is the sort of ass who thinks a half rhyme can't ruin a good bad joke, and I feel like 'snazzy' is exactly the sort of cringe old man word that particular cringe old man would love. He also did call blackberries (Raz' favorite fruit) a very overenunciated "Rhaaaahzzberries" once too. Once.)
what is the last thing you googled?
Raz' gaze falls back to the fractured circuitry spread across the kitchen table. It was once a cell phone, if the pile of numbered rubber buttons are any indication at least. The pause extends long enough that you think maybe you should move on with another question. His expression doesn't shift, but there's something strange there. Some sort of separation, maybe in the eyes...
"Ask that again, later. It's. That one's important."
who's the last person you kissed?
"That… Isn't." The corner of his mouth twitches, a line between his brows deepening slightly.
It isn't important, not the answer at least, you don't work for a gossip rag. Besides, you could probably guess; you know this is Marshal Steel's apartment, even if he hasn't shown open involvement in arranging this interview, and you noticed the way Charge touched Becker's shoulder before he left the kitchen too, the slight lean in to that. The answer doesn't matter, even with 50-50 odds, but the shift in his expression does. You always were good at picking up on people's tells, and that one seemed like concern. You smile apologetically and suggest moving on.
what is your favorite kind of flower?
"I don't— remember. Why is this on the list?"
His cadence is odd, the spaces between words stretched or compressed in ways they shouldn't be. It has been through the conversation, which has made it hard to tell when he's done speaking. It was a filler question, or supposed to be, like a baseline in a polygraph, but you catch something there, and it's the first place you push.
"Don't remember? Not 'don't know'?"
Raz' left hand, the one not holding the soldering iron, jumps to his forehead. He presses his palm in to his eyebrow, hiding some of the scar, but you think that's incidental. You can see the force of the gesture in how his fingers spread. You get migraines, you've done the same thing in the vain hope of pushing away a headache.
"I used to. I think? Or Ana— a friend did. I think I put it away. Or. They took it? I don't know why. I don't remember."
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oh and when i was a year old, after i got my foot amputated my parents were pushing me around in a stroller at a street festival in miami and i was chewing on my foot or whatever and this street performer came up to us and was like “aw i bet that tastes good!!” and my dad was like “yeah look at what she did to the other one!!!!” and pulled back the blanket covering my left leg to show a stump with a huge scar on it and i’m pretty sure my dad terrified that poor man
My small hand looks normal enough that many people don’t notice for quite some time that it’s missing fingers, and I sometimes get people questioning if my hand was always like that but they never noticed, or if something recent happened to them.
So as a kid I absolutely loved when people tentatively asked me what happened to my hand and I’d unsuspiciously say, “What about my—” looking down at them, “notice” the missing fingers, and suddenly scream-recoil away as though I’d never seen the issue before. Managed to give quite a fright to multiple well-meaning adults about it. ✌️😎
Continuing from parts 1 and part 2! (check them in order first!) Realized I needed a premise in order to get Raz to answer anything in character, 2nd person POV, investigative journalist asking him questions at the start of an interview. Thank you so much!!!
what would you wish on a shooting star?
"To stop falling."
The pause stretches again, but you just wait. You think you're starting to understand what Charge really meant when he asked if you could take your time on this interview. Ricardo Ortega isn't exactly well known for his patience, but you are, so you wait.
Raz lets out a slow breath, you hadn't noticed he was holding it, another thing to watch for.
"I need to be clearer. I'd wish for this to work. For you to have enough reach that I won't have to hurt anyone else in order for it to work."
He looks at you then, not just in your direction, but looks you directly in the eyes for the first time. You realize what seemed distant about his eyes now. The light from the window is early-morning gold, his shirt maroon, the wall behind him blue— but the grey of his irises aren't picking up any of those colors.
"Have you figured out my tells enough to start asking the real questions?"
You smile and lean forward. The recorder sitting between you on the table begins to whir softly when you finally hit record.
Continuing with the concept from the last ask, Read it first! It's a loose story, as if these questions are being asked by a journalist. The idea very much ran away with me so second person pov of said journalist, congrats on the new job? Thanks for asking!
(I'll do a separate post for Jameson later and tag you, so that this is semi cohesive)
what was the last thing you cooked? was it good?
Becker has put down his project by now, the soldering iron is cooling in a stand you have to assume was a recent addition. There are scorch marks on the kitchen table. You assume Raz has a workshop somewhere, some sort of 'lair' more likely, but you're here in the Marshal's kitchen, the scene almost domestic. Is that to make you more comfortable, or him?
"I don't cook. Not much, or. Not at all."
You watch his thumb track a brief movement along his index finger, nicotine stained nail to scarred knuckle and back, just once. He isn't looking at you, but to the left towards the window— he hasn't really looked at you yet during this interview.
"I have issues with food now. Ricardo keeps trying. Me too. But it's still… Hard. It's hard. I had some toast this morning. It stayed down."
💐 what is your favorite kind of flower? (answered in the first part!)
Decided I'm going to approach these questions as if Raz is being interviewed by a journalist, that he's promised to be honest, and that these and the next two asks are all warmup questions before the deeper interview. Cause otherwise he'd just ignore the questions and that obviously doesn't work for an ask meme lmao. So…. 2nd person POV: "Investigative Journalist."
Thanks so much for getting my brain going in a really unexpected and fun way!
Raz Becker looks up from the project on the table, his knuckles paling slightly as his grip on the soldering iron tightens. Annoyance doesn't shift his voice from it's baseline, a dry flatness that's far too easy to read as irritation, but which Charge has warned you actually isn't, at least usually.
"Did Ricardo put you up to that? Because it wasn't funny the first time either. It doesn't even rhyme."
Charge did, in fact, put you up to that, said it'd break the ice, but you're guessing it was to prove his point. Noted.
(if this is how you learn that "Raz" has a long A, and is closer to rhyming with Jaws and Flaws than Jazz and Pizzazz… I apologize. I mislead you with "Snazzy Razzy." I am a criminal. And it's all 'cause I think Ortega is the sort of ass who thinks a half rhyme can't ruin a good bad joke, and I feel like 'snazzy' is exactly the sort of cringe old man word that particular cringe old man would love. He also did call blackberries (Raz' favorite fruit) a very overenunciated "Rhaaaahzzberries" once too. Once.)
what is the last thing you googled?
Raz' gaze falls back to the fractured circuitry spread across the kitchen table. It was once a cell phone, if the pile of numbered rubber buttons are any indication at least. The pause extends long enough that you think maybe you should move on with another question. His expression doesn't shift, but there's something strange there. Some sort of separation, maybe in the eyes...
"Ask that again, later. It's. That one's important."
who's the last person you kissed?
"That… Isn't." The corner of his mouth twitches, a line between his brows deepening slightly.
It isn't important, not the answer at least, you don't work for a gossip rag. Besides, you could probably guess; you know this is Marshal Steel's apartment, even if he hasn't shown open involvement in arranging this interview, and you noticed the way Charge touched Becker's shoulder before he left the kitchen too, the slight lean in to that. The answer doesn't matter, even with 50-50 odds, but the shift in his expression does. You always were good at picking up on people's tells, and that one seemed like concern. You smile apologetically and suggest moving on.
what is your favorite kind of flower?
"I don't— remember. Why is this on the list?"
His cadence is odd, the spaces between words stretched or compressed in ways they shouldn't be. It has been through the conversation, which has made it hard to tell when he's done speaking. It was a filler question, or supposed to be, like a baseline in a polygraph, but you catch something there, and it's the first place you push.
"Don't remember? Not 'don't know'?"
Raz' left hand, the one not holding the soldering iron, jumps to his forehead. He presses his palm in to his eyebrow, hiding some of the scar, but you think that's incidental. You can see the force of the gesture in how his fingers spread. You get migraines, you've done the same thing in the vain hope of pushing away a headache.
"I used to. I think? Or Ana— a friend did. I think I put it away. Or. They took it? I don't know why. I don't remember."
Good beautiful Loam Thursday night, there's no better way to say it than to just say it: there is tzoam frotting on patreon. those so inclined may find the full image description in the alt text
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am i too late for in character questions? For Rohid?
🧑🍳 what was the last thing you cooked ? was it good ?
🖊 do you have any tattoos ? any piercings ? (lol, sorry)
💻 what is the last thing you googled ? (or looked up to research via any medium, physical or digital)
Not too late at all! Thank you 💖💖
🧑🍳 what was the last thing you cooked ? was it good ?
Rohid blinks long and slow as they process the question, cigarette burning down in their frozen hand. "Uh," so faint you have to strain to hear it. "Don't cook much...," they almost give the impression like they might explain more, but it never comes.
🖊 do you have any tattoos ? any piercings ?
They stare at you in blank silence. There's no malice to the look--but their gaze goes long through you, unfocused and disassociated. The moment lasts. And lasts. And lasts. Before they take a drag of their cigarette, eyes snapping to focus on your face. They still don't answer.
💻 what is the last thing you googled ? (or looked up to research via any medium, physical or digital)
They pause before pulling out their phone, thumbing something open and turning around their search history for you to view. "normal to feel heart when trying asleep?", "how to know hear t trouble when asleep?", and "no sleep bad for heart?"
Akari scratches at their cheek, head tipped to the side, "'s a good question. Don't really," they cut themself off mid-sentence, their eyes glaze over as they stare down at the table. A heavy silence hangs in the air where their answer should fill the space, minutes pass before they speak again. "Don't really do that anymore. I guess. Uh, yeah. Too busy," they vaguely gesture with their right hand, "work. You know. Probably been a good uh what? Three years? Four? Long time. Different time." Their last words come stumbled out in a rush, ripping a bandaid off, "I don't remember what the last one was or who I went with."
They mumble something about needing to fix that and never enjoying themself harshly under their breath.
🎧 what are the 5 most listened to songs on your spotify ?
Akari curses as they bite their tongue, face flushed a deep red spreading all the way to their ears. "Do we have to do this?" They duck their head down as they look across the room. The silence is answer enough. "Fine," their fingers absently pick at a loose thread around the cuff of their jacket. "Siren Song, Sort Yourself Out, I'm not crying you're crying, Up From the Bottom, Hard Times. Yes theres Soft Violence songs. Yes they're the top ones. I appreciate good fucking music when I hear it, can we be fucking normal about this for once," they punctuate the statement with thier fists clenched on the table, knuckles paling from the strain.
