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WENDY

A lover of AUs and a master of causing the feels, Wendy is always at the ready to offer love and support to her fellow members. Her posts are lovingly constructed, detailed, and every character speaks in their own voice; from the lovable Cadi to the villainous Cala. EDS wouldn't be the same without her, so go show her some love!

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welcome!
Welcome to ENDLESS DIAMOND SKY! We are an animation personified site set both in the animated world and present day San Francisco. A terrible darkness is spreading through the animated realm, driving everyone from their homes and into unknown territory that we know as reality. Now they find themselves at a crossroads: do they fight for their world or do they turn their back on it and make San Francisco their home? What will you choose?

 setting 
san francisco, calif. 2018

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 ( boom ), elsa/wendy!
toshiro eiji mitsuru
 Posted: Feb 19 2018, 08:40 PM
  quote

wow, that's a lot of tungsten carbide..

  hiro hamada
  big hero 6
  20 years old
  single
  ???
  he/him
  allie (she/her)
 20 POSTS

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While riding the bus, Person A mistakenly takes Person B’s umbrella and Person B goes after them for it.





IN A WORLD FULL OF HEARTACHE SEEMS LIKE EVERYONE'S
BURNING OUT


Hiro was doing his best to ignore the bus ride from Haven Hill to his job at the tech repair store: the other occupants, the way the ungainly conveyance swayed wildly around corners, the dips and rises of the city roads. The strains of heavy rock music sounded faintly from earbuds secured firmly in his ears. Chin tucked and brow furrowed in furious concentration, large brown eyes followed the scratch of a mechanical pencil as it scratched across the page of a battered sketchbook. The curled edges of worn stickers of snarling lizard faces and cartoon monsters could just be made out on the cover from time to time. As if from habit, the fingers he used to grasp the book smoothed down the ones beginning to peel away. Every so often, the young man’s lips would part and move in a silent murmur before he would feverishly erase something on the page. His tongue would slip to the corner of his mouth, peeking out as the sketching would renew in earnest.

It had been two years since coming to the city. Since losing the remainder of his family and what friendships he’d begun back in San Fransokyo. Longer still since losing his brother. Even Tadashi’s death hadn’t kept him from fiddling with wires and gears, from planning future robotics projects — even if halfheartedly at the time. It had served as a distraction. The one escape he’d had from thinking about things far too serious for a fourteen year old. Things like loss and grief and how much a brother-sized hole could hurt. If he’d known then that it could get so much worse, he wondered if he’d ever would have come out of his room at all. That he had was only due to Baymax, Dash’s legacy, and the mystery behind the stolen microbots. A mystery Hiro sometimes wished he’d never gotten involved in. In either case, his brother had died senselessly but it was somehow worse knowing that he hadn’t had to.

While the rage over that knowledge hadn’t ebbed, it had found a place deep inside him to root itself. Somehow he’d learned to live with the simmering fury in his gut like one lived with an extended illness. It was there and he couldn’t deny it, but he could function well enough alongside it — so long as it didn’t take over. As other people did, he had his bad days where the anger seemed to be the only thing he could feel but there were good days as well. The latter coming far more often now than they had in the beginning.

He didn’t want to say it was because he’d picked robotics up again or that he had a job to occupy most of his time or even that, whether he liked it or not, time was passing. Those things implied that he was settling into this new life, that he was moving on. He wasn’t. So long as he lived, so long as Callaghan remained at large and in possession of his tech, ‘moving on’ wasn’t an option Hiro would allow for himself. Did he have a plan? No. Not since the first thoughtless idea, induced by fury and grief, had ended in spectacular failure. And completely alone in an unfamiliar place. Without Baymax. Without his friends. No. He didn’t have a plan. Yet. But he was working on it.

Every day he got a little bit closer to solidifying it. The sketchbook in his hands was full of his ideas -- not just for the bots he built in his down time at work and threw in competitions for the prize money. Calculations, plans, material notes as well as everything he knew about Callaghan and Krei, his memories from the otherside, his thoughts on where the others might be now. How to fix Baymax. All of these things were filed away within the eight-by-eleven-inch standard sketchbook clutched in his lap: the Hiro Hamada Technical Compendium. Worthless to everyone except him, he never went anywhere without it. Whether working or sleeping, it was never far from his hands either. If the young man had any sort of religion, it began and ended with that book.

Which was why, when the bus lurched to a stop he hadn’t prepared for and it was jostled from his lap, he moved panickedly to retrieve it without thought or care to those around him. He loosed a breath as his fingers curled around it protectively, realizing too late that the stop was his own. Eyes wide, he snatched up his backpack and what he thought was his umbrella, jamming his fist several times against the red ‘stop’ button nearest him. He stumbled to the front exit just as the bus tried to pull away from the curb and slammed on the brakes. With a hand, he waved off the driver’s admonishments (though he couldn’t quite temper the smirk he shot in the man’s direction) before hopping down the steps. The drizzle outside had turned into a downpour during the ride across town and Hiro paused a moment open the umbrella before stepping out into it, backpack slung over one shoulder and sketchbook secure beneath his arm. He was already several strides down the block before the lull between songs shuffling on his ipod allowed him to hear someone behind him.




899 words
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elsa brigit redd
 Posted: Feb 28 2018, 04:10 PM
  quote

the cold never bothered me anyway.

  elsa
  frozen
  24 years old
  single
  heterosexual
  she, her
  wendy (she, her)
 53 POSTS

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the sound of my heart
outfit to come

Having the rental space that served as the home of her ice sculpting business across town from her actual home at Haven Hill never really bothered her on a standard day, but on days like today, when the sky opened up overhead and rain poured down to soak the ground and anyone who dared venture out without an umbrella, it was a nightmare. Glancing down to her lap, to the sketch pad still open to the page she'd been working on, she smiled softly at the image of her parents looking back up to her. She'd begun working on it early that morning when she'd woken before her alarm, and had made a plan to take it along with her to her office space so that she could work on it during breaks when she was not in the freezer working on a sculpture. But when she'd peered out her window and spotted the beginnings of a drizzle outside, she'd made sure that she would have an umbrella with her to keep both herself and her sketch pad dry. It was full of so many important sketches of things she'd seen around the city and of things that she remembered from back home in Arendelle that she didn't know what she would do if anything happened to it.

Staring down at the drawing for another long moment, she wondered what her sister would say if she were there with her and could see her sketch. Probably that their smiles weren't big enough, she assumed, and Elsa knew that she would be right. They had been a happy family when she and Anna were younger, had smiled and laughed and embraced often, but when her powers began to grow stronger and more unpredictable, when she'd accidentally hurt Anna, things had changed for the royal family of Arendelle. Anna had remained as happy and carefree as ever, of course, and Elsa could always hear her laughing to herself as she sprinted through the halls of the castle on the other side of her closed bedroom door, and she was sure that her parents smiled nearly as often when they were with their shining youngest daughter as they had when the girls were younger, but there was always a subdued tone in her interaction with her parents from that day in the ballroom forward. They loved her dearly and wanted nothing more than to help her with her magic--she'd known that to an extent back them and understood it even more so now that she'd grown up, but she'd never known how to let them in, too afraid that she would hurt someone else that she loved to let them help her, and so their smiles for their eldest daughter had always been more reassuring or pleading than genuine or based in joy.

Pulling a pencil free of her pocket, the blonde gently erased the mouths of both of her parents and redrew them, a slight tilt to each side of their lips portraying the kind, wonderful, happy people that they were as she chose to remember them, as she wished that they could still be. Sighing, she shook her head and closed the book, slipping her pencil back into her pocket for the time being and glancing out the window to the rain, which had become a downpour in the minutes since she'd last glanced out at it. Thankful that she'd brought her umbrella along with her, Elsa cradled her sketch pad against her chest and watched the street signs in silence for a long minute. Her stop would be coming up soon and she didn't want to risk missing it if she lost herself for too long in her sketches. Spotting a pair of young girls holding hands and skipping through puddles of varying depths as two adults she assumed were their parents watched from beneath an umbrella a few paces away, she smiled to herself. She and Anna had been that close once when they were little, and now, despite the years that she'd spent convinced that she had killed her own sister when her powers got the better of her that day in her ice palace, they had the chance to be that way again. It was more than she ever thought that she would get, and she was so grateful that--screeeeech!

The bus slammed to a halt, and she scrabbled to keep a grip on the book her arms as she pitched forward with the force of the stop, reaching out to steady her bag and her umbrella before noticing that something was missing. Glancing over to the emply seat next to her, blue eyes shot wide open when she saw only her bag there. Her umbrella was gone! Looking up just in time to spot the man walking down the steps, her umbrella in his hand, she shot up from her seat, waving frantically and calling for the driver to stop as she ran for the front of the bus, being careful not to bump anyone as she passed and trying to keep her heart rate as regular as possible. She couldn't afford to get too worked up and to cause a freak snowfall inside the bus, after all. Spitting out apologies as she jogged down the steps and landed with a splatter on the sidewalk below, she ignored the sound of the bus door closing and the vehicle accelerating away from the curb and paused long enough to look both ways in search of the stranger, spotting him to the left and hurrying after him, calling out for him to stop, to please wait.

With her sketch book clutched tightly against her chest and her back hunched forward to protect it from the falling rain, she picked up the pace to catch up to the stranger, noticing the slight pause as he seemed to notice that someone was following. Maybe his music had been loud enough in his earbuds that he hadn't heard her following until now. "Wait, please, that's my umbrella!" she called, picking up the pace one more time and moving just quickly enough that she could get around him and stopping short once she was in front of him, inhaling sharply to try and catch her breath. "H-hi. I th-think you took m-my umbrella by mistake." Her hair was soaked to the root, locks of blonde falling down over her forehead and water dripping into her eyes, but she wasn't concerned about staying dry herself as long as she could keep the book in her arms safe from water damage.

TAGGED | toshiro eiji mitsuru
NOTES | ahhh i hope this works allie hun!!

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toshiro eiji mitsuru
 Posted: Apr 14 2018, 11:45 AM
  quote

wow, that's a lot of tungsten carbide..

  hiro hamada
  big hero 6
  20 years old
  single
  ???
  he/him
  allie (she/her)
 20 POSTS

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IN A WORLD FULL OF HEARTACHE SEEMS LIKE EVERYONE'S
BURNING OUT


Between the fall of rain against his umbrella and the heavy strains of music pouring into his ears, Hiro was virtually deaf to the rest of the world as he walked. Which was just fine with him, if he was being honest. Especially when the cogs in his brain were churning at full speed -- as they were right now. Thoughts tumbled almost too quickly for him to keep up with, his fingers itching to write it all down as his steps began to hurry along the slick cement. It was the breakthrough he’d been waiting days for and his blood hummed with excitement to get it down on paper, to build it, to see his work come to life. He was sometimes like this when an idea struck and he wanted to hold onto the inspiration for as long as possible.The noises of the outside world only added to the din in his brain to a point of almost being overwhelming. It was a bit maddening, he supposed. He had no idea what he looked like to others when he got this way but he could certainly feel the mania creeping up on him. That creative sort of insanity he’d never been ever to replicate save for when he was working on his bots.

Was it really any surprise that his single-minded focus left little room for noticing anything outside of his head? True enough, he hadn’t been expecting to be waylaid on his way to work. His commute was such a routine by this point that he could perfectly time his walk to the exact moment he would pass any specific shop or passersby who regularly took this way as well. It also made it far too easy to ignore the sound of footsteps around him during that lull in his music. Noted and then forgotten as the next song started up. He kept trudging, his shoes and the cuffs of his jeans quickly becoming soaked in the pouring rain. If he hadn’t made absolutely sure his backpack was waterproof, he’d have been concerned about the tech he carried within it. As it was, he was more concerned with his sketchbook becoming wet in downpour. Even having it so close at hand made it tempting to pull it out as he walked and review everything he’d scribbled down on the bus ride. Good sense, for once, prevailed and it remained securely tucked beneath his arm as he hurried along.

His sneakers skidded wetly to a stop when the woman jumped in front of him. Brown eyes widening in surprise, he stared for a moment without speaking. Much longer than he should have. Much much longer than was comfortable. His eyes only widened further when he realized she was standing openly in the rain, letting the water soak her clean through. Drenched as she was, the combination of blonde hair and pale skin made her look more than a little bit like a ghost. He’d have been lying to say he wasn’t a little bit unsettled by the image -- even her eyes were a startling blue. Like a wraith from one of the old legends. Were wraiths supposed to be pretty? For even looking like a drowned cat and hunched over as she was, she was definitely that. It was only her expression, the slightly harried way she regarded him, and the movement of her mouth that made her human again. He blinked, shaken from his imagination, and the image was gone.

Belatedly, Hiro realized she’d been speaking to him. He hadn’t heard a word, of course, over the noise in his ears. Immobilized by surprise and a mild fear of the woman as she’d originally appeared, he’d been standing still and staring like an idiot. Mumbling an apology, he pulled his earbuds out awkwardly, trying not to drop his sketchbook in the process. The world around him resumed in sound -- rain hitting pavement, passing cars splashing through puddles, raised voices speaking over the noise. ”Sorry, I didn’t hear you,” he stated obviously, raising his own voice to be heard. Looking a bit abashed, he frowned at the woman. The frown deepened when he realized her hunched shoulders were meant to protect something. Her purse? A book? Why didn’t she have an umbrella if she didn’t want to get wet?

He wasn’t sure about any of it but felt just guilty enough to step forward, close enough to raise his umbrella over both of them. Unfortunately, she was nearly as tall as he was which left little room beneath the cover. A uncomfortable dampness began at his shoulders where the rain was taking advantage of his impulsive move. Normally, he might have been irritated by it, his mood turning sour, his words snappish. As it was, he was more than a little distracted by what had seemingly been a mistake. Where he’d been feeling a uneasy a moment ago, he was now most definitely nervous by how close he had brought them. His stomach, too, was doing strange things. Queasy, he might have labeled the flip-flopping that was happening in his gut but that wasn’t entirely accurate. Swallowing, he tried to keep his expression impassive as he spoke -- aloof. Cool. ”W-w-what did you say?” Smooth, Hiro, he thought. Real smooth.




895 words

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