*crashing in through the whump communityâs skylight*
oh hey, whatâs up? Iâm Jack, Iâve been lurking in the shadows of the community for way too long and Iâm now revealing my presence!
Name: itâs Jack, didnât you just see it up there? I will also accept Jacques, Jack-Jack, Jackrabbit, Jackalope, Jack Sparrow, Jack Daniels or J-Money
Age: old enough to drink, not old enough to say âback in the good old daysâŚâ while I stare wistfully out the window (I could do that, but Iâd just be reminiscing about when everyone wore their jeans around their knees)
Pronouns: he/him, they/them, hey/you, call me whatever you want as long as you donât call me late for- nope, Iâm not finishing that joke
About Me: why are you asking? who do you work for? WHO SENT YOU?! Just kidding. Here are some things I like doing- writing, thinking about whump, thinking about writing whump. Here are some things I like doing but am bad at- cooking things, climbing things without falling off of them, running without feeling like Iâm going to die. Here are some things I donât like doing- studying, going to the gym, watching romantic comedies, eating canned vegetables, getting my socks wet.
About Whump: love it. Love, love, love it. Whump is great. I like almost all flavors (but hold the nuts and butts and sexy bits.) My particular favorites- defiant whumpee, whump with magic/fantasy elements in it, whumpers who just suck, uhâŚwhumpees in gladiator fights?? ButâŚcage matches. Not bare-chested men in loincloths stabbing each other.
Here are some blogs about whump I really like: @smellofsnoww @weirdstrangeandawful @whumperofworlds @whumperfultime @redwingedwhump @painsandconfusion @newbornwhumperfly @pigeonwhumps @caspia-writes @spookyboywhump @oddsconvert and literally so many more, I have been lurking here for *a while* also I will probably make a blubbery post about why I like these blogs the next time I have a drink
About WIPs: I have a grand total of one. It currently exists as a complicated red-string-board of a Google Doc with way too many characters and at least three plotlines. Itâll probably still have too many characters and plotlines when I post it. Itâs mainly about vampires and humans whumping each other into absolute oblivion, so if thatâs your speed, stay tuned, sports fans. Edit: I have spiraled into insanity and no longer have just one WIP. It was inevitable.
Anyway, itâs me, finally coming out of the shadows to join the whump community in their mission to make fictional characters suffer! I have the power of God and whump on my side- AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH-
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Does your OC have any food sensitivities or allergies? How serious is the sensitivity/illness? Are they careful to avoid even the slightest trace or do they risk it when they feel like it?
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They nearly came to blows. Leander sprang around the side of the bed to seize Rainierâs arm. Rainier shook him off, growling, turning the dagger in his hands. He was taller than Leander, more muscled, better practiced, but Leander had the grim determination to stop him slitting Emauriâs throat. He flung himself over Rainierâs shoulders, clinging on as Rainier stumbled backwards, falling heavily to the floor. Leander reached over him to grab the wrist that held the dagger.
âLet it go,â he panted.
âHave you gone mad?â Rainier bucked, trying to throw him off.
They thrashed on the floor, Leander keeping hold of Rainierâs wrist with gritted teeth. âLet it go!â he shouted again. âLet go, Rainier!â
Rainier tried to shake him one more time, and then- reluctantly- he opened his hand and let the dagger clatter to the floor. Leander released him to snatch it, and by the time heâd scrambled up, Rainier was on his feet too.
They faced each other, chests heaving, standing over the bed where Emauri lay.
Rainier spoke first. âYou know who he is.â
Leander didnât bother denying it. âYes.â
âYou know what heâs done.â
âYes.â
âWhy wonât you let me kill him, then?â
âLook at him.â Leander gestured to Emauriâs still, pale form. âHeâs half dead already.â
âThen it would be a mercy.â Rainier spoke with clenched teeth. âA mercy he doesnât deserve. You know what he and his father did. To you. To me. To Abril!â His voice was getting louder. âHow dare you, Leander? How dare you bring him here? How dare you bring him anywhere near my wife when heâs part of the reason she wakes up screaming at night?â
âIt was Baron Antonin that hurt her, Rainier.â
âAnd that little snake stood by and watched! And laughed! Laughed, while his father tortured a woman who had done nothing to them!â Rainier stepped around the bed, grasping Leander by the shoulders. His eyes were filled with real concern, mixed with the anger. âThe Tarasques were almost your death. They took me, they took Abril, they hurt us to get you to surrender. They would have given you to the king in chains. You would have been killed, Leander, and not quickly. Not like Iâm going to kill him.â
âBut they didnât.â Leander reached up with his free hand to close it over Rainierâs. âYou got Abril out and got to me in time. The king is dead and I am alive and heâs paid for it, Rainier, heâs paid. You didnât- you didnât see the gaol.â He turned away, closing his eyes as the memory of the dark cell floated up before him like a ghost.
Rainier threw another glance to the pitiful sight on the bed. âHow long?â
âI think almost since the last battle. Seven years. Years, certainly, if not all seven.â Leander clenched his fist. âThey had him in the lower cells. Thereâs hardly any light down there. Itâs dark and itâs wet and itâs cold and he was chained and heâs sick and I-I couldnât leave him.â
Rainier was silent.
âPart of me wanted to. Part of me said it was justice. The road to where we are now was such a hard one to walk. You know it, Rainier, you walked it with me. But nothing I went through is worth a man dying slowly for seven years.â
âIs what Abril went through worth that?â Rainier challenged.
Leander shook his head. âI canât answer that. I donât think you can, either. Tell Abril. Youâre my captains. If both of you canât stand it, Iâll send him away.â
âBack to prison?â
âI- I canât, Rainier. Iâm tearing the old gaol down.â
âWe have other prisons.â
âHeâd die. He might die even now. But another prison would kill him for sure.â
Rainier jerked a shoulder in a way that very clearly meant And?
âIâll send him somewhere far away.â
âThatâs worse.â Rainier shook his head, his ginger ponytail flicking back over his shoulder. âI donât want to be wondering when heâll sneak back in the night. Friends close but enemies closer, right? Does that door lock?â
âYes,â Leander answered. âI picked this room carefully.â
That didnât stop Rainier. He moved all around the room, checking the windows to be sure they couldnât open, looking over the furniture for sharp or heavy pieces, examining the lock on the door at a dozen different angles. When he straightened up, his eyes were hard, and Leander knew he was talking with Second Captain Velue, not his friend Rainier.
âI am posting a guard outside this room.â The words were cold and measured. âAt all times. You, myself, and Abril may enter. No one else goes in, and no one else comes out.â
âHeâll need a healer,â Leander pointed out.
âIâll speak with Master Brindle. After I speak with Abril.â Rainier looked over again at the still form on the bed. âAnd Leander- you donât come in here alone.â
That had some of his friend in it, not just the captain of his guard. âHeâs too weak to hurt me,â Leander said.
âI donât care.â Rainier folded his arms across his chest. âIâm not going to give him the chance. You come here with me, or with Abril. If she decides she can stand to look at him.â His lip curled.
Leander sighed. âAll right, Rainier.â
âOne more thing.â Rainier glanced at Emauri again. âIf he wakes, will he be able to leave that bed?â
âNo. Thereâs something- his leg. And heâs not strong enough anyway.â
âI want to make sure of it. Even if heâs weak as a kitten, Iâm having him chained.â
âRainier, no. He canât even stand, he doesnât need-â
âI donât care, Leander.â Captain Velue had melted away. He was Rainier again. Somehow that might have been worse. âI donât care. I will not risk you, and I will not risk Abril. Itâs shackles or the dagger, Leander. Choose your iron.â
Leander could have ordered him not to do either. He could have ordered him to stand down. He was the Lord Protector. He could have.
He did not.
Instead he let a sigh slither between his teeth, and gave in. âA chain, then. A light one. And on his good leg.â
Rainier answered that with a single nod. âCome on out. Iâm locking him in while I wake Abril.â
Leander followed him out of the room, watching as Rainier locked the door and made doubly sure it had bolted. And then they were friends again, and Rainier clapped him on the shoulder before he went into his and Abrilâs quarters, and Leander heard her shout grumpily and the distinct thud of something heavy and Rainier cursing her impeccable aim.
- do they have a favorite fish/sea creature? (To eat or to look at or that they just think is cool!)
- do they believe in sea monsters/mermaids/sailor superstitions?
- have they all got their sea legs or do some still get a little seasick?
- worst and best days at sea?
Omg yayyy! An ask about my weird lil ship guys!
Favourite sea creatures:
Carroll fell in love with the otters on his first shore leave to Rowan's family's farm. They way they bonded with each other and kept each other close really spoke to a scared little pre-teen misfit who grew up too fast too quickly.
Quinn, Ethel, and Helen all adore the whales. A Good Man's Heart actually happens to take place at the peak of whale populations, literally right before most populations declined catastrophically (and in many cases haven't come anywhere near recovering) due to global-scale unsustainable whaling. I might write or draw something short set after A Good Man's Heart about that actually. Super interesting concept I hadn't thought about!
Kyte's mesmerised by everything and can't choose a favourite
Rowan can identify a seabird species before you can even say the word 'bird' but his favourite sea creature is a sheep and he is not taking questions at this time.
Do they believe in sea monsters/mermaids/sailor superstitions?
There is definitely the standard element of superstition in general among the crew but they're all misfit sailors in some way so are definitely not likely to take things too seriously (eg. there is none of this 'knowing how to swim is bad luck' nonsense going on here). It's more of a culture than a religion to them
I think they believe in sea monsters in the sense that they believe there are beasts in the ocean that are unknowable to them and could be a threat but aside from the typical ghost stories, there is mostly a sense that the sea and its occupants are harsh but not malicious
Helen wishes mermaids were real, mostly so that she can kiss one on the mouth
Have they all got their sea legs or do some still get a little seasick?
They've all absolutely got their sea legs*. Carroll claims he gets landsick.
*except Kyte. That boy's backside has spent more time in contact with the floor than his feet
Worst and best days at sea?
The thing about the sea, most of them know, is that the best days weave the tapestry of their devotion though it is futile to claim a favourite. The worst day, they all know, could be tomorrow.
The ones with objectively clear 'worst days' so far are Carroll (getting shot by an enemy and shattering his leg), Rowan (that last time he was severely injured by the HBMS Bellona's backfiring guns), and Quinn (that shipwreck they don't want anyone to know about)
Kyte's just having a terrible time all around so take your pick of a worst day so far: getting shipwrecked (but he met Carroll!), getting badly injured by a hull splinter (but Carroll took care of him!), getting caught in his first storm (but Quinn comforted him), feeling homesick (but that's all the days except for the days it isn't!)
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are you squeamish about piercings? i'm not and I have SEVERAL piercings...and i just got squeaked out cause i watched a woman get back dermal piercings. </3 It didnt look particularly painful but ugh it looked SKURRY JACK I'M SKURED /Lh
I am not squeamish about piercings except in Certain Lower Places
I have a couple of piercings myself but Iâve never actually heard of piercing your back? That seems like a strange place to do it anyway, how often do people see your back?
also having looked up back dermal piercings I feel like the same effect could be acquired with a nail gun
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Throw fandom whump in my inbox. 50/50 chance I will not know what you are talking about so infodump at me until you think I will get it (I wonât, but I will happily egg you on with your whumping from my confusion cloud.)
Edit: to narrow this down and give folks something to go on, tell me about a character from your favorite thing that you think I would enjoy whumping.
I am that flavor of weird person who deeply enjoys the specific niche of books where the protagonists are animals. Not like, Watership Down or Animal Farm. The kind like Redwall and The Last and Longburrow and even the Beatrix Potter stories, where the animals in question have their own societies and there usually arenât any humans and the animals wear clothes and use weapons and sometimes walk on two legs and stuff.
My question is- would there be any sort of point to writing whump in a setting like that? I feel like whumping animals is generally Frowned Upon which I fully get- does it change at all when youâre dealing with anthropomorphic animal protagonists? Would there be any sort of interest in this, at all, or is it best left to the realms of childrenâs stories and cute art? I have a story idea that will not leave me alone and Iâm not sure if I want to do anything with it but I just want to gauge and see if there would be any kind of interest if I did go further with it.