#i have some masquerade masks i plan on using for a base/frame for everything

[norse-witchery]

Haha wow what a night, started with cozy new wild pants I have for my meadowlark OC, about halfway through I heard a skittering, and a gentle thump against my door. I get up to investigate and HOLY FUCK ME THERES A BAT IN MY BEDROOM. Spent about 20 heart pounding minutes trying to lure and capture the lil guy, (no pics he was big stress and wanted to go home) so I grabbed a towel, and just, slowly cupped him, he chittered and squeaked and screamed and made sounds i didn't think something as heavy as 4 grapes could make.

I released him outside and almost immediately his mate came up and they fluttered off into the moonrise, squeaking the story of how he escaped the horrible clutches of the deep rumbling giant with the cozy chill spots.

Later I went outside to smoke weed and as I sit down I hear the same chittering, I look up and holy shit. The lil guy came back, squeaked a few times and flew in circles, like he said hey thanks for letting me chill in your closet. I finished my joint and fucked off lmao. Wild fucking night

[misterewrites]

Masked Intentions (Solider, Poet, King. Genshin Impact)

Hey E here with a very special gift for my bestie MAE over at @hains-mae ! IT'S HER BIRTHDAY YAY! and naturally I had to write her a gift cuz she’s awesome and she makes epic art (Seriously go check it out it’s awesome!). This year, however, she chose Genshin Impact and I am honor bound to write it. HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAE WHEN YOU READ THIS! 

Okay some author notes actually. Singing. I'm doing it again. So if it's Italics it's a single singer, Bold and Italics is a group of people singing. the song is Celtic Women's teir abhaile riu. It's a fast pace fun song I felt fit the setting of Genshin. I mean I don't play but still I know a strange amount of it based on second hand accounts. Anyway i hope it's not too confusing but I guess we'll find out haha.

Okay that's it for me. Be safe, take care of yourself and your loved ones. Wear a mask. Clean the mask. replace the mask if you've used yours forever (paper not cloth is better) get vaccinated if you can, push for world wide vaccination cuz fucking hell this is getting old. Keep an eye on Ukraine if you can mentally handle it. They're fighting tooth and nail for their home and they need everything they can get. Watch for misinformation since the Russian psyops are acting up again, double check sources, double check groups in case they're secretly shady and just watch. It's not okay what's happening and if you can't handle it and need to avoid, i understand. Have a great week and take care of yourselves please.

Here’s the chapter on the much more writer friendly https://archiveofourown.org/works/35657500/chapters/93514921

Here’s the first chapter I wrote for mae for Christmas! https://archiveofourown.org/works/35657500/chapters/88904083

And what’s this? my other works which include Arcane, Owl House, Soul Eater and, for lack of my usual modesty, a pretty decent original work? Whaaaaa 

https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/pseuds/MrE42

Here’s a link to one of the version of the song because tumblr probably already shadowbanned me so why the fuck not?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a-fFx-Edj2U

Here’s the keep reading sign, have a good one!

Summary:  It's been dead end after dead end and Venti is no closer to discovering the machinations of Childe and Signora's plans. Left with little choice, Venti decides to get evidence right at the source: Childe. Attending a masquerade Venti attempts to slip the clue he needs right under Childe's nose.

-----

The sounds of laughter and music filled the air as the Windblume festival began proper. The streets were alive as people from all walks of life took to the streets to partake in the celebrations with nary a care for status or power. Beautiful wreathes of white flowers hung from every building with tender love and care as the festival colors blanketed the city like an endless ocean: Armbands, flags, flower crowns of varying shades of whites, blues and green as far as the eye could see and worn by any and everyone.

Venti had to admit it was nice to see the festival in person after being gone for so long. The Windblume festival was one of his favorite events and unfortunately did not hold the same weight outside Mondstadt. The smaller festivities he’d participated in were decent enough but nothing could compare to the majestic revelry only the city of freedom could muster.

He shook his head, shaking the carefree thoughts from within. As much as he would love to enjoy the festival in classic Venti fashion, there were work to be done.

He hated work.

Venti pulled his riding cloak over his frame, carefully making himself appear as small and harmless as he could manage. The guard glanced his way, a faint curiosity twinkling in his eyes as the bard drew closer.

Venit pulled his lips into a playful smile “Yes my good sir, is there an issue?”

“Sorry m’lord.” the guard gave a sheepish grin “I hadn’t expected you to stop. Most folks rather hurry inside instead to enjoy the show than make small talk with a humble guard such as myself.”

“I find everyone fascinating. As bard you never pass up a chance for a good story. Or better yet good gossip.”

“True that sir. Pardon my staring.”

The bard let a cherry laugh.

“Not at all my good fellow but I am curious. What catches your gaze?”

The guard mumbled awkwardly under his breath “Your mask.”

Venti couldn’t help but give a cheeky grin as he removed his mask and held it closer for the man to see. It was a white domino mask with two outstretched blue wings framing either side of the face. Unlike his Sprite mask, however, this mask was a poorer quality: The white was more egg shell than marble. The blue wings were less fairy and more avian in nature with a shade of blue that was just off enough to raise questions and of course minus one feather.

“Your local folktale!” he beamed proudly “The Windsprite that fought for the freedom of the great land of Mondstadt!”

The guard gave a polite nod “Well close enough m’lord. It’s...not quite correct if you pardon my saying.”

Venti frowned for a moment before putting the mask back on “Forgive me I am but a humble traveler to your lovely city. By the time I found out this event was a masquerade I had little choice for attire.”

As if to make a point, Venti pushed his dark green cloak open to reveal his choice of outfit for the evening. Unlike his usual elegance the bard had opted for a more modest appearance: A fine yet humble white tunic with a flowery pattern embroidered on its surface. A small dark green cape hung off his shoulder as his earthen brown dress pants were tucked into a pair of equally brown loafers.

“You look fine sir.”

“Thank you!” Venti gave a humble bow as he hid his frame beneath the cloak once more “I best be off. Have a good night kind sir.”

The guard nodded in response “You as well.”

------

The theater was as magnificent as last Venti laid eyes upon it.

It was an odd building forgoing tradition and sense for the sake of enjoyment: The building itself was circular in design and for a particular reason. The outer ring of the establishment was constructed of the finest wood with counters built into the railings angled just so for everyone to face the performers on the stage built into the far wall. Four floors tall meant plenty of people could sit back with a drink and join in the merriment. The inner ring, however, lay the smooth tile floor meant for the feet of happy dancing folks. Certainly not for the shy and easily embarrassed given how much the inner ring was exposed.

Venti currently sat upon a stool on the second floor, one hand clasped tightly around his cup of cider. He emptied his drink within seconds and slammed the mug onto the counter. Cheers rose from nearby patrons.

“TO YOUR HEALTH!” one boomed.

“TO YOUR JOY!” another yelled in response.

“MAY THE WINDS OF FREEDOM GUIDE YOU!” Venti shouted.

A fresh round of cheers went up as the clanking of mugs filled the air.

Venti’s bright smile did not match his eyes as he stared upon the inner ring: Aside from a pair of solitary figures having a rather hushed conversation not a soul could be seen. The band was set to take the stage in a few minutes yet Venti was no closer to a plan.

It had been years since last he saw Childe yet somehow the man looked the same as he did all those years ago: Tall with a lanky frame though toned with muscles. His orange hair was still short and choppy as ever. Though it was impossible to tell with that tacky and rather in poor taste red Fatui mask covering his face, Venti could still see those dull blue eyes in his memory.

Childe wore an outfit fit for a ruler which he pretended to be: A jacket darker than night with fine sliver threaded in refined patterns upon its surface. Black dress pants tucked into equally dark boots. He wore dark red collared shirt though he left the top unbuttoned and tieless. A blood red cape hung off him and made him as look as imposing as Venti knew him to be. Childe was one of the fieriest fighters he’d ever known with an unquenchable lust for battle.

His cloaked companion could’ve been any number of his underlings or even Signora herself yet from this distance Venti couldn’t be sure.

Not that it mattered. He was here for one thing and one thing only tonight.

Venti focused on his objective for the night: Hidden within Childe’s right pocket lay a notebook filled with the impostor's operations. It was neigh impossible to tail him given his status and Signora still hid in the shadows. Blindly groping in the dark led to only dead ends and frustration. If Venti was to have an idea how deeply entrenched Childe’s corruption lay in Mondstadt’s foundation he would have to be far more daring.

It wasn’t an ideal plan: Once picked no doubt Childe would note the disappearance of the item and run his operations to ground. He would be more guarded and less likely to make a mistake openly but it would give Venti the start he so desperately needed.

Of course that was under the assumption he could take the item without its owner’s notice. Each time a server approached from any direction, the orange haired brat had already raised a hand of dismissal.

What to do…..

Venti snapped out of his thoughts as a familiar sight graced his gaze.

The beautiful blonde haired princess entered and the bard could feel his heart skip a beat upon the sight of her.

Somehow she had been modest in their first meeting: Tonight she wore a gorgeous white strapless dress that went down to her ankles. A shimmering sliver sheer material covered her bare shoulders and neck while white leggings and flats completed the look.

She was beauty, she was grace! She was a seriously unneeded distraction. It took everything the bard had to pry his eyes away from her and not stare a moment longer.

“Though.” Venti murmured to himself as he noticed Childe’s eyes wandered for a moment as well “it seems like I’m not the only one who wishes to catch the princess’s eye.”

A thought occurred to him. An idea so daring and reckless that a wise man would’ve called the bard an utter fool for even thinking it.

Of course you were only a fool if it failed and as Venti wrote down instructions and handed the paper to a nearby waitress to pass along to the band, the bard had placed his gamble.

-----

Venti took his place near the steps to the inner ring when the steady, rhythmic beat of a drum began to fill the air. A moment later a violin joined with a shrill yet bouncy pulsing melody.

A pretty woman took the stage, her fellow singers standing behind at the ready. She took a deep breath as she waited for her cue from the instrumentation.

“Look how the lights of the town, the light of the town are shining now. Tonight I’ll be dancing around, I’m off on the road to Galway now!”

The others joined in. They took a step forward to take their place alongside with the pretty girl and singing their chorus in hush gossiping tones.

“Look how she’s off on the town, she’s off on the search for sailors though. There’s fine fellows here to be found, she’s never been one to stay at home.”

The chorus surrounded the pretty one, their voices teasing yet without malicious intent.

“Home you’ll go and it’s there you’ll stay, and you’ve work to do in the morning. Give up your dream of going away, forget your sailors in Galway.”

The group began to chanting the next lyrics in a language Venti didn’t recognize. They sang in the unknown language for a few phrases then the violin player took up the melody once more. They repeated the opening melodic line with more force and excitement.

Venti took it as his cue.

He grabbed around a pair of persons by their wrists, dragging them into the inner ring without warning. They protested but Venti paid them no mind.

“Come now and follow me down, down to the lights of Galway, where there’s fine sailors walking the town and waiting to meet the ladies there.”

“What’s the big idea?” One huffed in annoyance.

“I rather not like being manhandled!” The other spoke with equal irritation.

“Either you dance with her or I will.” Venti gave an impish grin.

Before either could argue he vanished into the crowd looking for another victim.

“Watch now he’ll soon be along. He’s finer than any sailor so, come on pick up your spoons, he’s waiting to hear you play them! WOO!”

Venti noticed the longing gaze of a young wife. She sighed expectantly as her husband he chattered to some stranger to the side.

Venti paused for a moment, listening carefully for the man’s cadence.

“Honey!” the bard muttered with close impersonation of a husky voice “Would you grace me with a dance?”

The young woman shrieked with excitement “Yes my love!”

Venti watched with amusement as, with a grip unexpected of her size, the wife grabbed her husband by the collar and dragged him to the dance floor, completely ignoring his confused ramblings.

“Here today and she’s gone tomorrow and next she’s going to Galway. Jiggin around and off to town, and won’t be back till morning.”

The singers broke into the familiar unfamiliar chanting once more but Venti was far too focused on the task at hand. By the time the violin stepped up for their extensive solo Venti had tricked, coerced and otherwise encouraged more and more people onto the dance floor. What was once nothing more than Childe and his mysterious guest was now a dozen or so couples dancing without a care in the world.

Venti caught the grimace of annoyance on Childe’s smile. He muttered something to the cloaked figure and the pair began to make their away from the gathering crowd.

Venti followed suit, ignoring the pounding of his heart as the shrill shrieks of the violin grew more and more frantic. He drew closer, careful enough to not arouse suspicion yet not so fast to draw attention. He held his breath as he braced himself for impact.

Venti crashed against Childe with as much force as he could muster but also with the grace of a drunken buffoon. He pulled his hood down to ensure he couldn’t see his masked face.

“Sorry m’lord!” He apologized with a lisp “many apologies."

”Venti pivoted on his feet awkwardly as to get away when a hand clasped down on his shoulder, holding a firm grip on the bard.

The violin finished their solo, their strings now playing a soft thrum that cut through the playfulness of the room.

Venti glanced backwards to find the tasteless Fatui mask staring blankly at him. Childe held him tight and simply stared.

“M’lord?” Venti asked, letting some real unease into his voice.

Childe said nothing.

“Let him go.” the cloaked figure whispered as they realized some of the couples were starting to notice the commotion “Don’t make a scene. Not here.”

A moment paused yet Childe did not release his grip on the bard.

Another moment passed and as the singers took their place to resume the song Childe let go of Venti.

“Don’t do it again.” his voice was sharp with the promise of a threat.

Venti gave hurried nod and vanished into a crowd, clutching the notebook for dear life. It had worked! His half baked, poorly thought out plan had succeed! He was no fool, he was Venti and he was a gen…

“IT’S GONE! HE TOOK IT!” Childe’s voice boomed above the jovial sounds.

Venti could feel his heart slow to a crawl. Well turns out he was foolish after all.

He was tempted to burst into a wild sprint but such an idea would be terrible. Not only would he leave an obvious trail, the guards would respond to their lord’s wishes and it was a matter of time before Venti was caught without a place to run.

“Off with a spring in my step the sailors are searching Galway for, a young lady such as myself for reels and jigs and maybe more.”

Venti cut between a nearby couple, ducking out of sight before Childe could catch sight of him but he could hear the stomping of his pursuer close at hand.

It was a tense few moments of a wild chase between prey and predator: Venti would zig and zag, pivot around dancing couples and squeezed into any space no matter how narrow. He would double back and circle around and did everything he could to prevent Childe from pinning him down.

Childe, on the other hand, was relentless. Every time Venti thought he’d evaded the lord, he appeared without warning and barely gave the bard enough time to switch tactics. Even the slightest swish of his cloak would betray his position to the dull eyed hunter who inched closer and closer to his quarry with each passing drumbeat.

“Stay here and never you mind the lights of the town are blinding you”

He couldn’t keep this up. People were starting to question what exactly was going on and he’d soon lose the crowd’s cover as curiosity would bring all dancing to a halt. He needed to be bold once more or this would be for naught.

“The sailors they come and go”

Once he was certain he broke line of sight of Childe, he removed his cloak and threw it onto a nearby gentleman.

The gentleman was confused but before he could question what was going on, Venti had slipped into the crowd once more.

“but listen to what’s reminding you.”

Venti could hear the stomping of Childe nearby, his voice stiff yet held with barely contained violence. He questioned where the man had gotten the cloak. Within a moment or two the man would no doubt point him in Venti’s direction.

“Handsome men surrounding you.”

Venti glanced about. Nothing but quizzically faces wondering what exactly was happening.

He could feel the sweat run down the back of his neck as Childe’s footsteps thundered closer and closer. If he stayed here no doubt the gossiping eyes would give him away.

“Dancing a reel around you!”

“Then let’s give them something else to gossip about.” Venti muttered to himself.

He reached into the crowd with wild abandon and the moment his hand managed to find another, he pulled them in closer.

His eyes widened as instead of a random person like he was hoping for, he found himself staring face to face with the beautiful blonde haired princes. Her golden eyes narrowed with furious confusion.

“Beg your pardon?” she couldn’t keep the edge out of her voice.

“Pardoned.” He said with a cheeky grin.

“Home you’ll go, and it’s there you’ll stay, and you’ve work to do in the morning. Give up your dream of going away, forget your sailors in Galway.”

Venti quickly (but respectfully) placed his hand on her waist, drawing her closer. He began bouncing back and forth in an attempt to get the young woman to dance with him.

Lumine was not impressed by the brazen act by this stranger but before she could pull away from him, something caught her eye.

A figure, tall with refined black clothing appeared from the crowd wearing a red Fatui mask. Despite its smooth featureless surface she could tell he was looking for something.

Or rather someone.

“Listen to the music flow”

Lumine glanced back at the stranger who had grabbed her so rudely. Despite her unwilling to dance with him, the stranger wasn’t particularly forceful about it. While he did sway in an attempt to get her to move, he was very gentle and his hands did not wander.

“I’m falling for the flow of home”

She had no idea what she was thinking but just as the masked figure glanced their way, she began to dance. She swayed to and fro with the stranger and allowed him take control of their movements though she did not lower her guard.

“I’m home to dance till dawning”

Lumine was amazed how light on his feet this stranger was. She’d accidentally been swept up towards the inner ring when someone gripped her wrist and pulled in. Before she could utter a single world he gave a polite bow and disappeared into the gathering crowd. She was actually trying to escape out of the ring when this man had grabbed her for a dance.

“Forgive me princess.” the man muttered softly “I’m afraid I have other motives for this dance.”

Lumine paused. Something about his voice was so familiar yet it eluded her memory.

“Princess?” The man asked, unsure if he’d step too far “Miss?”

Lumine shook herself out of her stupor and she replied with a mocking tone “Oh really? I suppose men have other things on their mind than dancing with beautiful young women?”

The man let out a cheery laugh “So you are aware of your beauty princess.”

“Lumine.” She corrected him “And I have been told of my beauty. How much is truth and how much is desire remains to be seen.”

“Sharp mind and sharper tongue. Be still my beating heart.”

Lumine tilted her head curiously “What did you just say?”

Venti coughed “Nothing of importance.”

“Stay awhile and we’ll dance together, now as the light is falling. We’ll reel away till the break of day and dance together till morning.”

The music grew as the singers began to fervently chant louder and louder, the violin’s frantic yet joyful shrill growing with them.

Despite how this situation began, Lumine found herself enjoying the man’s presence: His step was graceful like she was dancing with the wind itself. His hands were firm yet gentle and they remained affixed to her hand and waist respectively. As they swayed back and forth lost in the melodic thundering of voices and instruments, she could feel her heart begin quicken at the sight of his carefree grin and quicker still with his wit.

“Dazed by my grace my fair Lumine?”

Lumine could feel her cheeks blush “I would give you an honest answer yet you do not need a bigger ego.”

“Your words wound me my fair Lumine.” The man let go of her for a moment to clutch at his chest.

“Dramatic to the last good sir?”

“Venti.” He replied with a cocky smirk “And I am nothing if not dramatic.”

“Venti?” she’d had heard the name before realization struck her “Wait! I know you! You’re the bard! The one who sang when you entered town.”

Venti let some of the surprise spill onto his face, his cheeks reddening as his voice dropped to a whisper “So you’ve heard of me fair Lumine.”

“W-well.” Lumine stammered cutely “It’s much less heard of you and heard you belting out at the top of your lungs.

Venti chuckled “I am a bard. If a bard does not sing, what use is he?”

“Well he could also tell a good story.” Lumine offered before letting a snicker escape her lips “Though I imagine your stories would be at best altered truths and at worst completely egotistical.”

Venti gave a bright grin “Wound me again yet still I remain.”

“You are rather daring or utterly foolish and I cannot hazard a guess as to which.”

“Foolishly daring I’d suppose.” he bit his lip thoughtfully “Or daringly foolish.”

Lumine giggled “Is there a difference?”

“I suppose not.” Venti answered honestly.

The song ended. The singers and instruments bowed to thunderous applause yet were lost to the pair as they still dance to an unheard song.

Venti was the first noticed excited chatter all around them.

“Fair Lumine, they have stopped.”

Lumine blinked questioningly. She looked to one side then another and when she found no one dancing, she turned a lovely shade of red.

“Ah.” She cleared her throat “I suppose your dance was not as horrible as I feared.”

Venti smiled yet did not release his hold on her “That was a compliment.”

“Do not push your luck.” Lumine threatened with a huff “No matter how silvered your tongue, you will mind your manners.”

“As you wish my lady.”

“Quite the dance you two.”

Venti and Lumine jumped in surprise at the new voice that joined them. They whirled around to find Childe standing there, the smooth featureless Fatui mask staring at them both.

“Do I know you?” steel entered Lumine’s voice.

“Of course you do!” Childe’s muffled voice replied.

Lumine blinked in confusion “Lord Childe?”

“That is I! Or rather me underneath this mask. You look quite beautiful. I take it the dress was to your liking?”

“Umm.” Lumine rubbed her arm awkwardly “It is nice my lord but I fear I cannot keep it.”

Childe chuckled “A gift is a gift. It would be rude to reject it. And whose your friend in the sprite mask?”

“Sprite mask?” Lumine answered but Venti paid her no mind. He released his hand from her waist and bowed respectfully.

“I am Venti! A wandering minstrel who seeks only the finest songs and finer cider.”

“I see.”

Lumine could feel the tension between the two, the air growing thick and cold as Childe’s voice took an empty tone.

“You are familiar to me.”

Venti gave a nervous laugh “I get that alot my good sir. Perhaps all us bards look the same.”

“No. You are familiar.” His voice replied darkly.

Silence fell over the trio and despite the happy chatter and lively noises filled throughout the room, Lumine could only feel the odd sense of dread.

Lumine sighed in relief as Childe took on his usual carefree tone “My guards will bring you back to the palace Lumine. Feel free to stay as long as you like or explore the town.”

He turned to Venti “You have the stance of a solider.”

Venti did his best to keep his face as straight as he could even though he wore a mask “I am but a humble bard.”

“Hmm. Do you carry a mighty sword o’humble bard?”

“Afraid I’ll tear your city down?” Venti couldn’t keep the threat out of his voice.

“No.” Childe answered truthfully “It’s not my city you’ll be tearing down.”

Childe left without another word, leaving Venti to stew over his words.

“Do you two know each other?”

Venti snapped out of his thoughts “No…no I don’t think so. He reminds me of someone I knew but I suspect he’s not around anymore.”

Lumine was not convinced by that answer but decided not to press the issue. She raised her hand still entwined with his “You may release my hand now if you please.”

“Oh my apologies fair Lumine. I just wanted to enjoy your touch for a moment longer but I shall never deny a lady a request.”

And with a dramatic flourish, he lets go of her hand and slips into a bow.

“By your leave.”

“Denied.”

Venti teetered uneasily, too off caught guard “Denied?”

Lumine nodded her head “Yes. I’m rather bored and you’re the first interesting thing that has happened to me all night.”

“I sense a but coming up.”

“I rather not turn in so soon. I’ve never been to a Windblume festival. You mentioned you were a bard yes?”

Venti gave quick nod, sensing a trap in her words.

“Then surely you’ve been to plenty of festivals. I can think of no better guide.”

“I’m being kidnapped.” Venti sad “This is an odd one for me I’ll admit.”

Lumine looped his arm in hers and leaned against his shoulder “Think of it as payment for me saving you from Lord Childe.”

“My dear that is how rumors start.”

Venti could feel his heart race at the sight of Lumine’s Chesire smile.

“Then let’s give the town something to gossip over.”

Oh boy was Venti in trouble. But he always liked a little trouble now and then.

[give-grian-rights]

Bets Against The Void Ch4

I DID AS I SAID I WOULD.

@petrichormeraki

Chapter 1

The Chapter Before

The Next Chapter

Crossposted on AO3

Full fic bellow! content warning for trauma, relating to  the Festival.

By the time they had managed to leave Looky Looky at My Cookie, being around the two teens felt like a hurricane. When Stress managed to convince the two to get something to eat- not that cookies and cake were exactly a healthy breakfast- that certainly hadn’t slowed them down from bouncing off the walls.

Though wary at first, Tommy couldn’t get himself to turn down free goods, without even being accused of stealing. While Grian had been digging through an enderchest, finding payment for the goods, Tommy and pulled Tubbo along to gawk at the builds.

“I don’t fucking get it! Why don’t you guys just, steal shit? I don’t see anyone here to stop that! Or- what’s stopping someone from griefing?” Tommy turned, eyes narrowed on the short brunette woman.

Stress merely tilted her head, brows knitted together in confusion. “We’re a whitelist server, Love! Of course none of us would steal. We’re on a mooshroom island, so we don’t have any worries about any creepers or the like, either.” She had explained, much to the boy’s frustration.

“Yeah, but if someone wanted to, they could just fuckin’ come here and steal! I mean, why would anyone care? Or how would you even notice, you all seem loaded.” He scoffed in frustration.

Tubbo, at his side, laughed. “That’s the coolest part, Tommy! They don’t worry about that! That’s why, like, they’re so cool! No one disrupts eachother or steals, so people can just..Work, and do crazy shit!” They gawked, clapping their hands as they bounced in place.

“I’ve always meant to go back and explore one of the replica worlds you guys put out. The fact that after you’re all finished, you just- put out the code? So others can make replicas of just- such intimate places? And experience it and walk through it? That’s so cool.” Tubbo finally stopped, having nearly ran out of breath.

That earned a flustered laugh out of Stress, nodding along. “Oh, I agree. I only got to join the Hermits two worlds back, on Hermitcraft Five! Me and Zedaph- oh, is he a something- were the new Hermits up until Grian finally joined us, last world.” 

“New Hermit is definitely a heavy torch to carry,” Grian would chirp in, emerging from the shop. “Gotta commit as much chaos as physically possible. Make a good name for yourself.” The brit finished with a wolfish grin, unruly bangs falling past grey, almost purple eyes that glanced between the teens.

“He’s got a point,” Stress snorted, nodding. “If you’re ever bored during your stay, no Hermit are short on stories. Anywho, Grian, you got the spending diamonds for the two?” She turned towards the man- not even a hair taller than herself.

“Yep, of course. Here you two go, I don’t have all my diamonds on me, but this should help cover just about whatever you need.” Pulling out the diamond icon from his tablet, he dropped a numbered amount to both, being deposited into their system. “W- what!” Tubbo exclaimed, pulling out a diamond from their system. “Surely not. Is my tablet reading this right? A stack of diamonds?” They gawked, clutching onto the jewel.

Tommy merely screeched, pressing his tablet against his chest. “Holy fucking SHIT-”

“Jeez does this feel like a language moment-” another voice chimed.

The boy went rigid. Tommy’s head snapping in the direction, as Tubbo nearly jumped out of their skin in surprise. Stood by an igloo- out of place in the clashing mycelium-grass island- was an equally odd man.

Platinum white hair held back(mostly) by a well-worn black headband, a silver plate on the front reading off NHO. A faded, dull green- littered with patches, pins, and buttons- and most unnerving, a black mask covering most of their face. And- most notably- was the pair of slick, glistening snowy owl wings sprawled behind them.

The white-haired figure paused, shifting their weight awkwardly. “Uh, hi.” The guy gave a small wave, expression unreadable past mismatched black-and-red eyes. The man’s hair barely even allowed for those to be viewable- aiding in his masquerade, made the combination of mask-and-bangs shield most of the visible emotion from the newcomers.

“Hey, Etho!” Grian chirped, pleasantly pleased by the appearance of the shady figure. For some reason that Tommy, yet again, doesn’t quite understand, Tubbo gasps.

“Holy- you’re Etho? Like, Ethos Lab?  Oh, oh Void, I spent so much time watching so many of your old redstone videos! It’s what got me so interested in it!” They grinned. 

Oh Prime, who doesn’t this place have? Tommy scoffed at the thought, eyes narrowing on the figure. What’s with the scary mask people always being the ones getting popular, and shit- 

“Oh, thanks. Always happy to hear, there’s always a use for more redstone users. Uh, looks like you got a bit of a tour going on?” The man- Etho, turned towards Grian and Stress. 

“Yep! We wanted to check in on them, I know you heard from the announcement the run down.” Stress grinned, glancing towards the teens. “These two are Tommy and Tubbo. Glad to see you have some idea about Etho, already. He’s always bound to be around somewhere.” 

Tommy scoffed, eyeing the man, a few inches shy of his own height. “Hi, and shit.” He sniffed, crossing his arms.

Etho shuffled in place, nodding. “Uh, yeah. Language, by the way.” He sheepishly huffed, running a hand through his hair. “Welcome, for however long you guys stay. ..And if I may recommend, make sure you head down to Shade-E E’s. Quick profits all around.” He added, pointing with his thumb behind him, towards the dark mansion.

The blond kid raised a brow, tilting his head.  Prime, what is up with this guy.  “Excuse me?” Tommy scoffed.

Grian groaned, rolling his eyes. “Etho. Please. The amount of glass i’ve picked up coming out of the District portal.” He glared pointedly towards the man.

“Mhmm..I don’t see what there is to be so upset over. I think I'm providing a very generous service, to our server.” He snickered, quirking an eyebrow.

Pointedly sending a scolding glare towards Etho, Stress turned towards the two teens. “C���mon, now. Mind that Mr. Ice Queen, now.” She huffed, fondness seeping into her voice.

“I know when I’m unwanted,” Etho chuckled, holding up gloved hands in mock-defense. See you two ‘round. You too, Tubbo, Tommy.” He’d nod towards each person as he named them, before a rocket was summoned to his hand. And, he was off with a trail of smoke.

At the poof and small bang from the minor explosive was all it took for an incident to form. Tubbo cringed, visibly flinching before they curled in on themself, ducking their head down as their arms clung around their head, their ears covered.

Tommy, on the otherhand, nearly jumped a foot in the air before throwing himself on Tubbo.  The two went tumbling to the ground with a huff. 

The two Hermits shot up, turning towards the teens. “Oh Gord, hey, it’s okay, those were just flight duration rockets! They can’t do a thing. Etho’s gone, now.” Grian dropped down next to them, brows pinched in concern. 

“We promise, it’s alright! We all use rockets like that. It’s alright, see? Everything’s fine. No hermit would do a thing to purposefully scare you, like that.” Stress chirped in, her heart sinking at the thought of two kids being so terrified at a simple firework.

Tommy pulled his head away from the crook of Tubbo’s neck, glaring harshly at the adults. Distrust was obvious in his blue eyes, before he untangled himself, pulling up Tubbo with him. “Why the fuck would he need fireworks? He had fucking wings.”

The Hermits exchanged a gaze for a moment, before Grian held up his hands pacifyingly. “That was just an elytra. They take the form most fitting for the wearer, at the moment. Stress marked him the Ice Queen of the season, since he owns that Ice shop,” He’d point with his thumb behind him, at a snowy igloo with an Ice sign above it. “So, he had snow-themed wings. Last world, my Elytra wings were small and white feathers. Rockets boost them, since Elytras can only glide.” Grian explained patiently.

“..Right. Sorry- I- Uh. I didn’t realize he had an Elytra.. S-Should’ve expected the rocket, if I knew.” Tubbo sheepishly laughed it off, their head dipped down.

The correlation between the splattered, sparked burn scars scattered across their face, and their reaction, wasn’t lost on the Hermits. 

There was a brief silence between the four, the blond boy’s arm wrapped tightly around the other teen’s.

“So- what are your wings, now?” Tubbo eventually asked, breaking the tense pause.

Grian made a noise of understanding. “Ah, yeah, I have parrots wings, now! Scarlet Macaw. Red’s the primary color. They’re a good bit bigger than last season’s elytra, since that one was chicken based.”

“Chicken based?” Tommy scoffed, cocking an eyebrow as he eyed the short, young-looking man.

“Yes, that was his whole thing. The Hermits still tease him for it. Mine are floral-based and skeletal, when I wear them.” Stress chirped, her tone warm. With a swipe of her holographic tablet, wings were equipped to her back. 

Indeed, they were as described. A frame of skeletal bones, a light, magenta glistening aura surrounding them. Moss, and large flowers clung to the wings. How exactly she flew with them was beyond anything Tommy knew- or was willing to take the time to understand.

“We won’t be using them, since- you two don’t have any. But it is about time we discuss what your plans are. Has your server’s admin sent any updates?” Grian switched subjects, glancing between the teens.

A tense energy still surrounded them, as Tubbo fidgetted and gripped onto the fabric at the bottom of their shirt.

“No,” Tommy scoffed, pulling his Communicator into his free hand. “The bastard hasn’t said a word.” The boy practically growled out the words, in frustration. 

“Alright,” Grian said easily. “Then we figure out what you two want to do.”

“There’s a lot of spare builds. Keralis, real close to here, has a whole big city. There’s a hotel there. It’s not empty, but it is.. Overwhelming, and a bit much. There are also Hermits starter bases.” Stress explained, trying to lay out the options for the two.

Tommy scowled, while Tubbo looked- well, spaced. Easily the quietest either Hermit had seen them, so far. This only added to their concern.

“I have my starter base. No Hermit would bother you, but it’s close enough that we can drop off supplies, and you’d be able to reach others if you need help. Both of you could have anything I left in those chests, Gord knows I have more than enough resources.” Grian offered, glancing between the teens.

“The spawn room was fine, Mr. Grian.” Tubbo cringed, tilting their head towards the builder.

Grian persisted, gently shaking his head. “No, it isn’t. There isn’t the supplies to really just- let you guys sustain, there.” He grimaced, before manifesting the spruce boat icon into his hand. “Hobbit hole with everything in it going to you two, or empty hotel room with no elevator.” He’d offer.

The pair were quiet for a moment, before Tommy groaned. “Fine. Hermithole, or whatever.” 

Nodding along, Grian trailed off towards shore. “Alright, we have a short journey ahead of us, then. And then you two can decide if you want to settle there and make do with what’s stored, or come back on your own accord for more. I won’t make either of you stick around for much longer.”

“Good.” Tommy grumbled, pulling back out his own boat.

Both groups were soon in their boats, and once more, were off into the ocean.

[danganronpa-tng]

Chapter 4 - The Trial Of Aeja Komaeda (Part 2)

“Me?”

“Yeah, you..! Listen, I’ve had three days to mull over that stupid, stupid case. I’ve put things together, and anyone who’ll listen will put it together quickly too.”

“Well, I’m all ears. Come, explain your silly theory to us.”

“I-is nobody gonna talk about how we thought Estrella was DEAD?! And she isn’t?!?!”

“Nice to see you too, Kass. But yes, I survived! See, remember that last question..? I didn’t answer. The whole thing was based on me telling the truth for every question. When I told the truth, I got shocked. So when I didn’t answer, I technically didn’t tell the truth, it didn’t shock me as hard. And because the execution was set up to kill me with a certain amount of shocks, it didn’t kill me. So after... what, maybe an hour? I got the energy to stand up. So I decided to get up, and get myself some justice.”

“Well, we’re glad you survived.”

“Hahaha. Don’t flatter me, Hayden. Now, Aeja? Let’s blow this wide open.”

~ ~ ~

“Well, let’s start with something I brought up earlier, that the victims could have been killed by two different people. I believe this, but consider this; what if one of the killers is already dead?”

“Hm? Do you mean Matio?”

“No. I have an idea, but I need to check something... Aspen, remember our conversation earlier?”

“Huh? You had a talk with Aspen, Aeja?”

“Yes. Aspen, can you confirm what we were talking about?”

“A-ah, yes! You asked me if I had gone in for my call after London, to which I confirmed. She asked if London said anything suspicious.”

“And... did she?”

“Well, yes. She mentioned that... she suspected someone as the mastermind because they had her symbol. London’s symbol, I mean.”

“As I expected. And as I observed, Vanessa... shared London’s symbol. So I suspect London attempted to kill Vanessa... and most likely succeeded.”

“God... so, now we have to figure out how London killed Vanessa, and who killed London?”

“Well, I’m just saying, but Yaretzi definitely killed London.”

“Oh, would you stop for a minute? We have something else to focus on for a moment other than your nonsensical tired babbling.”

“Mmm.”

Estrella, still glaring at Yaretzi, shrugged.

“Ah, well. Yeah, let’s focus on London and Vanessa. Yes, I definitely think London killed Vanessa. But we need to figure out both murders, so when and how was Vanessa killed? You guys figure this out.”

“Huh?”

“Well, clearly I’m just babbling. Figure out this whole case on your own! I’m suuure you’ll do great.”

“I- ah...”

“Don’t worry, I’ll step in once you’ve truly proved your incompetence.”

- - -

“So, when Vanessa and Yaretzi left, we’re assuming London went after them?”

‘Without any of us noticing? Hayden and Karma saw Vanessa and Yaretzi leave, I doubt she’d get out undetected.”

“Good point...”

“Well, what if she was already in Vanessa’s room?”

“Hm?”

‘Well, nobody actually said they remembered London being at the masquerade. I’m thinking she didn’t even attend; she went to the weaponry room, grabbed her weapon, then hid in Vanessa’s room until she came back, since her room wasn’t locked.”

“Ah... yeah, that makes sense!!”

“Good job! You’re not all complete morons.”

‘Ok, do you have a problem with us or something, Estrella?!”

“I want you to remember the last case, remember who you voted and ask me that again.”

~ ~ ~

“So, now we’re to assume London killed Yaretzi?”

“Not ‘tO aSsUmE’. She did it.”

‘Listen, you’re making some oretty big calls here. From what we’ve been told, Yaretzi was posing as you all evening, and vice versa. Can you prove-”

“Haphephobia.”

“What was that, Aeja?”

“Yaretzi has haphephobia! She told us before that investigation. Haphephobia is a fear of touch, and she said that she only let Vanessa touch her before she died. Yaretzi, can you confirm you never let anyone else touch you, no matter the circumstances?”

“I- yes, why?”

“Simple. Estrella?”

“Fucking gladly. Ahem, ahem? Ok. Me and Aeja were touching each other all night.”

“Wh-what-”

“Not like that, sicko. We were doing things like dancing, hugging, etc etc. Yaretzi, we can safely assume, wouldn’t be able to do that.”

“Ah- ah, I-”

“Ooh, Yaretzi stuttering? We must be right. So, let’s say Yaretzi walks Vanessa back. There’s always a chance- a big chance- that Yaretzi could have noticed London in the room before Vanessa walked inside? And let’ say she did, she didn't get a chance to warn Vanessa before she left. So she goes go the weaponry room, and grabs a weapon. A gun.”

Yaretzi is avoiding everyone’s gazes. 

“So, she goes back to Vanessa’s room to check if they’re still there, and technically, they are. But Vanessa had already gotten into bed, where London slit her neck. And since we know she got her other cuts after death, maybe London was still attacking her when Yaretzi got back, five minutes later. Yaretzi, in rage over losing Vanessa, attacks her, eventually shooting her in the head to finish her off.”

People are looking from Estrella to Yaretzi. Estrella looks over at Aeja, raising her eyebrows. Aeja nodded, clearing her throat.

“I’m assuming from there, Yaretzi panics, not wanting to get caught, starts concocting a plan. She remembers that Estrella came in shortly after them, so she goes go the walk in closet and finds disguises. She makes it look like they were used, then tails Estrella until she returns to the masquerade. She makes up a story about Estrella threatening her, and with Sara’s unknowing help, she convinced everyone of Estrella’s ‘guilt’. Well, Yaretzi? Any words?”

Yaretzi looks between Aeja and Estrella, who are both looking at her with similar expressions. Yaretzi looks panicked, fumbling over her words.

“I-I- do you seriously believe her?! She could easily be lying to save Aeja’s skin!”

“What do you mean, save Aeja? She isn’t even at risk here!”

“Oh, she didn’t tell you? If everyone gets it wrong, only Aeja is getting punished.”

Estrella’s eyes widen, looking at Aeja. Aeja looks away, sighing.

“It was the only way to get a trial.”

“I... nevermind for now. Face it, Yaretzi, we have you caught!”

~ ~ ~

“I- nobody else actually believes them, right? Right?!”

I looked around.

“Yeah, I believe them.”

“Hayden-?!”

“Me too!! It all makes sense. I can’t believe I fell for some fake evidence... Hm? Oh, Vera agrees.”

“Sara, it wasn’t-”

“I believe them too. I’m not one to trust Estrella usually, but Matty told us to work together, and it does make sense.”

“Yeah, me too. It all checks out! And besides, if my... my cousin agrees than he has to be right.”

“Me too. I even have evidence for it. Yeah, Yaretzi, you did it.”

“Yeah, man. You seem pretty suspicious, Yaretzi.”

“Kamron, Kassidy... Aspen, Karma, you all-?”

“Hayden.”

“Huh? Yeah, Estrella?”

I think you should wrap this up. You did well the first few times, and I think you have a good understanding on this case, unlike everyone else.”

“Yeah... let’s finish this case. For real this time.”

“...”

This all starts during the masquerade. London believes that Vanessa was the mastermind, since she had the wrong emblem on her clothes. London, most likely angry after Oliver’s death, makes her plan to kill Vanessa. When the masquerade starts, she doesn't attend, but instead makes her way to the weaponry room, taking a blade and going to Vanessa’s room. She was able to do this because of the motive, which left every door unlocked. She expected Vanessa to come back alone, and didn’t notice the killer standing outside the door. However, the killer noticed London just as she shifted out of Vanessa’s view, and knew something was up. They went and grabbed a gun from the weaponry room (not knowing it was Oliver’s gun, but that’s not important to the case) and made their way back to Vanessa’s room, where they were unfortunately too late. Vanessa, After getting into bed, had her neck slit by London, who had managed to hide from her until she got into bed. The killer, finding London still there, shoots her in rage, getting her in the head and killing her instantly.

The killer then panics, realising they’re now the guilty party. They have to come up with a plan quickly, before anyone realises anyone is hurt. They decide to frame Estrella, as they remember Estrella walking in close behind her. They draw a quick dice on the wall beside London in her own blood, to try hint that Estrella was the killer. They make their way to the walk in closet and set out their own wig and mask and Estrella’s wig and mask to make them look like they were used. From there, they kept on Estrella’s tail, trying to make sure they came out shortly afterwards. 

They would have gotten away with this too. For some reason though, the game continued even though we got the wrong killer. And also, the execution set up for Estrella didn’t kill her. Aside from this, the killer also mentioned to me before the investigation that they had a fear of being touched, which others also heard apparently, including Aeja and Estrella. Estrella, over her time on her way back, managed to piece everything together, and got in contact with Aeja, who agreed to cause a retrial, where she stalled until Estrella got back. Together, they exposed the killer.

Aren’t we right...

Yaretzi Nevermind, the Ultimate Exorcist?!

“Ah... well, it appears I have been found out.”

~ ~ ~

“Why? Why go after me?”

“You, Estrella? Well, simple. No offense, but nobody here quite likes you. Except for Aeja, as we've seen, but that’s not enough people to save you from majority. I figured if I could get everyone turned against the already untrustworthy person, people would believe me. And I was right in the end, wasn’t I? It took you a literal miracle to prove your point.”

“I...”

“...I’m assuming you heard both of their last words, Yaretzi?”

“I did indeed. Both spoke their last words to me.”

“Thanks for walking me back. Not sure why, but I felt kinda off... oh well. Tonight was really fun! Hopefully I get to dance with you again someday, you’re really good at it! Ah, here’s my room. I’ll see you tomorrow, Retzi.

Goodnight!”

“So this is how I’ll die.

Without an answer to my questions, about these weird memories I have... Erika had them too! I can tell you about them, if you just don’t kill me! Not you. Why do you want me dead anyway?!

...did I take the wrong person?

Was that what I did wrong?”

~ ~ ~

“Well, I suppose it’s my turn. I was so close, too, but a miracle blocked my path. I suppose that truly is justice. I was foolish to think I’ be able to live after the sins I committed. Well... last words? I suppose it’s rather ironic, but... 1 Peter 4:8.

Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.

I have no other justification other than the word of my lord and his disciples. The people that loved him believed in him, and what I did was believe in his words. I loved someone too, someone who was put and kind and an angel sent straight from the sky up above.

She must be waiting for me.”

~ ~ ~

Yaretzi Nevermind has been found guilty. Time for the punishment..!

[cyb-by-lang]

Shell Game (6/?)

Kei lays down the law, and the law is promptly picked up again and used as a bludgeon.

In what was clearly becoming a pattern, the third day of term was the worst yet.

It started fine. Everything started fine. Days always looked like they were going to shape up perfectly normal and mean Kei would just have to make it through an endurance test masquerading as a high school education. Sure, Obito was in the building with his security pass practically nailed to his eyepatch, waiting for trouble, but it honestly seemed like the day was going to be normal for like a minute or two.

Kayama-sensei was in the middle of taking homeroom attendance when the note arrived, demanding Kei’s presence.

“Four for four,” commented some kid diagonally to Kei’s left.

“That’s our Gen Studies problem child,” grumbled someone else.

Kei debated flipping them off, but that would be pointless. She left her school bag—but not her cell phone—in the room as she trotted wordlessly out of 1-C. Maybe she should save everyone’s time and just start messing with the school uniform so people would write her off as a delinquent. The longer skirt would be a pain, though…

But when Kei arrived, Obito was alone in the principal’s office in full ANBU uniform, complete with the Crane mask. Without his bright smile, the shadows in the room emphasized his height and the faint red glow of his single Sharingan.

Well, shit.

“That guy triggered the beacon seal.” Obito threw a parcel of clothes, topped with a mask, at Kei. “I let the principal know, but the teachers can’t teleport. Come on.”

Kei took Obito’s right hand and found herself in the thin air of the Kamui pocket dimension, and immediately changed into the ANBU uniform. Her mask, marked up more in line with Isobu’s features, slotted into place last, and she folded up her school uniform to store it out of the way.

“I didn’t go look yet,” Obito said, as he joined her in the land of cubes and pillars. “But uh, if you wanna just V2 and launch that way…”

I vote for that option.

…Y’know, so do I.

With that, Kei reached down into her chakra coils and put a figurative hand against Isobu’s much larger one. Isobu’s face might not have been able to smile, but Kei could feel his power thrumming eagerly at her fingertips. The past few days of petty insults and forced inactivity grated on his nerves, too. Kei didn’t even need to put her request into words before Isobu was raring to go.

Kei vanished under the crimson chakra cloak. Her stance changed entirely, becoming hunched as though the sudden spectral shell across her back was weighing her down. Two blood-red spiked tails trailed from the base, and her head was replaced by a blank-eyed face with a glowing mouth full of conical spike-teeth, half-hidden by blunt horns arranged in a crown. Between the armor plates half-manifested on her arms and the bulk of Isobu’s shell, there was no way she’d be pegged as a disheveled high school student.

Obito raised a hand to his mask, framing the round eyehole he actually used. With his other fist, he gave her a cheery thumbs-up. “Okay. I’ve got a lock, but you’re going through first. Don’t get hurt before I get there!”

Kei, though it was distorted heavily by echoey overlay from Isobu, definitely laughed. The shockwave from the transformation could still be contained by Kamui, at least. Nothing else about her would be.

Obito laughed, too. As a rip in space-time formed in midair, he shouted, “Fire in the hole!”

Kei dove through, and was immediately surrounded by a whole mob of villains.

This is what we call a target-rich environment.

Yep!

This situation was, it had to be said, because Obito only knew where Aizawa-sensei had been when the Bat-Signal went up. He’d told her he didn’t know what the inside of this wannabe Sapporo Dome would be like, and Kei knew introducing a pissed off jinchūriki had a way of making all the nearby problems rethink their priorities.

To emphasize that, the fanged jaw dropped open and let loose a battle cry that sent several of the still-standing villains scurrying.

Chickenface McMuscles snarled back, sounding like someone had stomped on his throat. Pinned and apparently unconscious underneath him was Aizawa-sensei, one arm thoroughly mangled in a hand the size of a human torso. There was blood all over the floor, too, and Kei was willing to bet that most of it was his.

Not good.

Later, Kei would find some humor in the situation once she learned how the villains had made their dastardly entrance. Teleporting seventy-odd villains and a giant chicken-faced monster into a building filled with civilian children (no matter their Quirks) to bait out and kill the Symbol of Peace was quite an evil plan. Aizawa-sensei and Thirteen wouldn’t have been enough to hold the line alone, because if nothing else Chickenface McMuscles was a heavy hitter.

And all of that was being countered by teleporting another inhuman monster into the building.

Kei lowered her head like a bull, keeping both the big monster and his beanpole accomplice in line of sight. In the moment, she had her priorities. Civilians, allies, and neutral parties needed to be saved. And the fastest way to do that was to take the rest of Brainiac’s head off his bulging shoulders.

“Go, Nōmu,” said the guy in the back field, and the creature attacked as dutifully as a Pokémon.

Kei dropped onto all fours just in time to take Nōmu’s offhand punch square on her chakra shell. The concrete beneath her hands and feet buckled, whether she transferred the impact fully or not, but then Kei’s two available tails looped around Nōmu’s wrists before traveling up his arms. Ten-centimeter spikes dug into the jet-black skin, seeking muscle and bone.

Kei punched it in the face with Isobu’s chakra behind the blow. And a second, and a third, being sure to aim at eyes, jaw, and exposed brain.

Nōmu snarled back as though she hadn’t just unloaded strikes strong enough to toss a pickup truck like a tin can, broken teeth bared.

Rasengan?

On it.

Two glowing blue spheres bloomed in and outside of Nōmu’s arms, and they both exploded. Bone crumbled. Blood flew. With a pair of wet thuds, chunks of Nōmu slammed into the concrete and Kei tossed the remnants contemptuously aside.

The creature staggered backward, unbalanced even before Kei formed a third Rasengan on the tip of one of the tails and slammed it into the beak like a bastardized uppercut. Blood spurted from each shattered upper arm, but erratically. It probably had some kind of physical enhancement beyond the norm to survive those, but Kei was already springing forward to cut the big guy off from Aizawa-sensei—

Nōmu promptly sprouted two new lower arms from the stumps. Flesh and bone creaked as the creature snapped back to normal as though they’d been shoved through a Play-Doh mold. The enthusiastic spaghetti kind.

What the fuck, Kei thought, even as she roared a new challenge at the now-recovered enemy.

That does not seem like it follows conservation of mass.

Not the time, Isobu!

Nōmu charged, and Kei slammed her twinned tails into the ground as an anchor so she could meet it.

“Don’t you know using cheats is against the rules?” hissed the beanpole behind the bulky black mountain. He was scratching frantically at his throat, visible red eye wild behind his…mask. “Especially against bosses!”

Kei snapped her fingers inside her head. While Isobu amused himself by making their fake jaws drool spontaneously-created water, Kei said, It’s Creeper! Only, damn, maybe I should’ve named him Facepalm.

It is as deliberate as ours. Isobu sent the manifested tails curling over Kei’s back, like a scorpion’s. You drive.

A punch glanced off her shell, only to be met by a neat judo flip to smash his exposed brainpan into concrete. Out of reach of Aizawa or anyone else, because Kei did have some situational awareness.

Hopefully he wouldn’t get his other arm removed by Facepalm-kun before Obito came back.

“Nōmu, kill it!”

Nōmu was fast, Kei would give it that. But Gekkō Keisuke, jinchūriki to Isobu the Three-Tailed Beast, had been trained for combat by the fucking Yellow Flash. She sparred with Maito Gai as a hobby. She got schooled by Uzumaki Kushina and Kurama once a week, had been raised alongside the strongest Uchiha of the current generation, fought with the scion of the Hatake clan, and was nobody’s mere stepping stone.

If Facepalm-kun and Nōmu thought they were going to kill anyone here, they were about to learn the most painful lesson Kei could dole out: total defeat.

Kei and Nōmu didn’t trade punches. Kei had already seen how that worked out, and whatever bullshit he could do with kinetic energy wasn’t her problem when she had so many other options. So while Nōmu bounced blow after blow off the Isobu-derived shell, sending shockwaves rippling through the air after each hit, Kei dug in with every scrap of control she possessed.

A water bubble gathered on the tip of the left tail of the chakra cloak, slamming forward into Nōmu’s face. Instead of exploding or grinding his skull into meat paste, the water engulfed Nōmu’s beaked head whole. The tail-tip had to stay embedded, even in such a small water prison, but Kei slammed her hand up and into the globe to get to work.

Even if chakra scalpels weren’t Kei’s forte, V2 meant she could choke Nōmu into submission by jamming coral down his throat.

“So annoying,” muttered Facepalm-kun, finally audible without Nōmu’s croaking cries polluting the air.

Three o’clock.

I see him. Kei grinned under the V2 cloak.

But just as Isobu redirected the other tail to pulverizing Facepalm-kun’s ribs like she’d promised, the villain snapped a hand out like a snake and wrapped his fingers around it before it could strike him.

This was—out of all available tactical decisions—probably not the worst idea in context. It just wasn’t good.

Facepalm-kun hissing in pain and backed off almost as soon as five fingers settled onto the whirling energy waveform. Sure, he’d disintegrated the outermost coating of the V2 cloak fairly well, which accomplished jack and shit. As Isobu laughed in Kei’s head, she saw the chakra flake away only to a) reveal absolutely nothing underneath it and b) instantly reform, because the V2 cloak was only a shape. There was no candy in the middle of this piñata.

The V2 cloak had as nasty of a tendency of dissolving human flesh as Facepalm-kun’s hands did. And it seemed like Facepalm had just withered all the skin off his hand. So much for fingerprinting.

Whoops for him.

And then Isobu whipped out the third tail and punched Facepalm-kun in the ribs with a manifested fist. He fell back with a shocked wheeze, doubling over before Isobu could bat his head off his shoulders.

Nōmu punched Kei in the head at this point, which at least kept her from dying of laughter in the meantime. Black knuckles split on one of Kei’s energy horns, but the blow was weaker than before. Apparently, breathing through calcified sea life wasn’t a Quirk here.

A quiet ping on her chakra sense meant Obito was back, though it seemed to have taken him a while. He was way up on the entrance platform, though.

Then a guy made of black mist was hurled like a sack of potatoes into the central area, because that was just what Kei needed today. More villains.

And at that point, Facepalm-kun lurched back upright. Despite his busted ribs and the fact that his pet science experiment was clearly being suffocated, Kei heard him say, “Dammit. No All Might, Nōmu’s losing to some cheating freak, and no dead kids…yet.” He eyed the Darkest Fog Cloud. “Kurogiri… What happened?”

“I…one of them got away.”

“If you weren’t so important, I’d kill you.”

No honor among child-killers, apparently.    

Did you notice?

Did I notice what? Kei grumped, as Nōmu’s struggling started to slow.

Isobu sent her a snapshot of the nearby pool and the craters around it, including three fifteen-year-olds trying to sneak Aizawa-sensei away from the fight Kei had well in hand. One frog girl, one purple kid about half anybody’s height, and…dammit, that was Midoriya. Well, this would make any conversation tomorrow awkward, at least on Kei’s part.

Oh wait shit—

Several things happened at once:

Facepalm-kun lunged for the frog girl, at a speed she clearly hadn’t been trained to react to. Even if she had, she was carrying Aizawa-sensei.

Isobu sent the spare tail spiraling after Facepalm-kun’s leg with full intent of ripping it off at the knee—

Midoriya crackled with red lines of energy, backed by green, and threw a punch directly for Facepalm-kun in sheer terror—

Nōmu’s eyes bulged comically and he ripped himself out of Kei’s grip, leaving most of his throat and half of his upper chest behind—

Isobu roared through Kei’s mouth, briefly thwarted—

Aizawa-sensei snapped awake with his eyes glowing red and hair flying around his head, the exact second Facepalm-kun’s hand touched the frog girl’s face—

Nōmu practically teleported into place directly between Facepalm-kun and the punch that might’ve decapitated a person and grabbed Midoriya’s arm—

—And in the half-a-heartbeat of heartstopping terror, Facepalm-kun had just enough time to chuckle ruefully, saying, “You’re pretty cool, Eraserhe—”

And then a lot of other things happened at once:

Obito warped in and jammed a kunai into the hand acting as Facepalm-kun’s mask, fourteen meters of wood springing out of his arm entirely on reflex and forcing the villain away from the kids before he got horribly impaled even more—

Kei whipped all three tails around and shaved huge chunks out of the backs of Nōmu’s legs and spine before digging into his exposed brain with her projected form’s teeth—

Midoriya yanked Aizawa-sensei and frog girl and short kid away, still sparking wildly until he collapsed on broken legs almost twenty meters off—

—And, finally, the doors to the building flew off their hinges in a single mighty blow and landed in the open area where all this brawling had been going on.

“HAVE NO FEAR, STUDENTS.”

Uh-oh.

“FOR I AM HERE!”

Obito’s head jerked up, Sharingan aglow, and he made a very clear hand signal for Retreat amid all the branches he’d just made. And if nothing else, Kamui would keep him in the clear to explain shit to the teachers where Kei’s chakra-cloaked mouth would have some trouble.

“Finally…” hissed Facepalm-kun. “All Might—”

Kei would have probably been happy to follow Obito’s lead, even if Nōmu was annoying. Things were going fine. It was probably time to fall back.

She didn’t really get a choice, because two hundred kilos of bunny-haired superhero proceeded to punch her through the roof. Had Kei been hit on Isobu’s projected shell, like Nōmu had been doing with all the persistence of someone who didn’t know any better, she could have nullified the hit.

Not so much when she was nearly uppercutted.

“WHAT THE FUCK, ALL MIGHT?!” Obito’s voice screeched, just to add a cherry on top of this gigantic screwup.

Somehow, Kei thought while careening through the air, I don’t think the principal filled in all the faculty about us. Or even me.

What was your first hint?

The brand new cracked ribs, now that she thought about it. Kei set her head back in the dirt as the V2 cloak faded a bit. All in a day’s work.