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Posted: Sat May 17, 2014 7:11 pm
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Posted: Sat May 17, 2014 7:39 pm
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Posted: Sat May 17, 2014 8:47 pm
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Posted: Sat May 17, 2014 8:50 pm
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Posted: Sun May 18, 2014 10:45 am
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a/n: I'm trash (strums guitar) I'm trash (beats on drums) I'M TRASHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
I really hated how I wrote that creation myth it turned out ******** terrible bUT HERE IS HEATHER HEADCANONS FOR YOUR SOUL I didn't proofread this either lol Im quality
When he wasn’t sewing or mediating between fights and conflicts the other gods went through on a daily basis, Hopper had found himself watching his little dolls run about.
They were his most interesting creation yet; and Hopper had made quite a few creations. It was a soothing past time, almost, to see how the little beings advanced and warred with eachother while he watched and mended clothing his fellow gods had thrown at him and requested (practically ordered, really, he thought with a huff) to fix.
Actually, many of the gods found watching the humans interesting. There had actually been a viewing room built solely for the past time of watching the little dolls run about. Ever since the Dark Ages had ended, Hopper had been occupying the room lately. He wouldn't have done it earlier partially because Bea wasn’t there anymore to giggle gleefully while Vicky watched over her and partially because there had been nothing interesting in it for himself.
Now the room was empty except for him.
The one he was watching right now — some small farmer of sorts, Hopper thought his name was James Hargreaves or something — was recently working on some strange device for his wife. Hopper had been watching him for a while now while mending more of Avery’s ridiculous robes with swift fingers, though now they laid long forgotten as Hopper watched in anticipation.
Hargreaves finished the machine, pushed back in his chair and wiped his forehead in satisfaction.
Things were being invented, and it was absolutely wonderful to watch. Hopper’s breath was held in awe as he watched them, and he knew that if he had a heart it would probably be beating at the moment.
The Industrial Revolution.
“Hopper,” Angela said cheerfully, appearing out of absolutely nowhere to name things and events as she often did — “There is a baby in your lap, mon ami.”
Hopper looked down.
Sitting on top of Avery’s favorite robes, wrapped in something white and soft, was a baby with pale skin and blonde hair. He stared.
The baby stared back, undeterred. It didn't seem to be blinking, or breathing, or making any sort of sound at all, but Hopper thought that he could hear gears whirring somewhere.
Don’t panic, Hopper told himself slowly. It’s just a baby. A baby god. Goddess. Just because this hasn’t happened before doesn’t mean you should panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic.
Hopper calmly took the baby into his arms, standing up and putting a hand on the back of it’s head like he had seen his female dolls do. It was dead silent, the only sound of Avery's robes accidentally slipping to the floor practically echoing. Hopper stood there for a moment while Angela mentally counted down, hands behind her back and a pleasant smile on her face.
Three.
Two.
One.
“IVYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!”
Heather would be a good name, Angela thought to herself while humming.
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Posted: Sun May 18, 2014 7:02 pm
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Posted: Wed May 21, 2014 11:25 am
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