Mcyt blog

Golly, I absolutely adored their intro!! I think I'll be really fun following along with the letters to their mom as her character goes through everything the plot throws at them (Cleo is gonna survive until the end, trust!!!)!

[more closeups & yapping below]

Short piece today, but I plan to (slowly!) write more between shows & work :)

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Vampires don't dream, but sometimes they remember.

The soldier supposes it's the closest the undead can achieve to true sleep. The memories are faint, faded as if seen through a mirror darkly – but still they persist, in fragments, in moments.

And, anyway, the memories have never really been about what he sees.

Sometimes, it's mundane. A snatch of laughter. A flask in one hand, and the grit of stone against the other. A splash of water falling from a great height.

Other times...

Well, this is war. And so he doesn't dwell on the flashes of flames, or the barrage of gunfire. He ignores the sensation of a trigger between his fingers, the bruising recoil against his shoulder. Such memories are soldiers made of.

"Do you ever wonder who you were?" his officer asks, in a sudden bout of melancholy. "Before your first death?"

The officer has always had these strange moments of sentimentality, an indulgence in the trade they ply, but it isn't the soldier's place to question it.

"No," he answers honestly. "The man I was before failed."

The officer's posture, perched on the forested cliff edge, shifts. There's nothing military in his poise – the soldier has long since accepted the old vampire is likely a civilian hire, brought in to manage souls such as himself – but curiosity lends the officer an almost-martial bearing now. "Failed?" he echoes.

"He died before his duty was done."

His officer releases an unneeded breath. "If only you could hear yourself."

"You knew me from before?"

"I turned you," his officer says. "Of course I knew you." There is a beat, where the officer thinks and the soldier waits. Then, softer, "I could tell you who you were. Aren't you the least bit curious?"

"Would it help us win the war?"

"Not everything is about the war," the officer says.

"When you brought me back, you told me there was nothing more important."

The officer doesn't reply immediately. If he were human, the soldier might understand more by his heartbeat and breath, but the undead are devoid of such tells. The curl of the lip, though, the flash of a fang, betray at least a passing ire. "The war has been ongoing for decades. It can survive a little distraction, Legs."

"Decades is precisely why we shouldn't wait." The soldier steps away from the cliff and starts towards the forest. He's hungry, and he can hear deer.

"Death changed you, you know," his officer calls. There is a strange tone in his voice, one that the soldier hears occasionally in these odd, melancholy moods. It's spoken just a touch too quickly, a shard too sharp, like a stick being swung into a hornets' nest and hastily withdrawn.

The soldier never knows how he's meant to respond to these barbed comments.

And so he doesn't, not in any way that matters.

"The first fledgling, the lost cause."

In another universe...

after all this time, we finally get to see Owen and Louis together :)))

Since we've definitely reached a turning point, here's an updated #TheFlight character art for tf!Legs!! Can you spot all the references?

hey guys im back from my grave. my... mixi grave... heh, get it?? get it?? please get it

anyways happy pride queers (me included)