#shards shiloh

[viaphni]

WAIT!!!!!!!!!! They dont love you like i love you ...

[carvedrobin]

and no matter what I do

nothing ever takes the place of you

[glacierruler]

Clue 10, Clue 25, Story Card 19

Rules and information

This game is NOT created by me, I am just playing a game I own with all of you! It's made by Prospero Hall based on the book by R. A. Montgomery

Content Warnings as of now for this game: Violence, weapons, injuries, death, monsters. This game might trigger those of you who deal with unreality.

Taglist: @greymillieattheball @randomnerd737

Your Psychic Scale is at 1. Your Danger level is at 3.

You start with a bottle of water (Discard to reduce danger level by up to 3, minimum of 3 danger level) and a pocketknife (+1 to fighting)

You chose to fight the creature

Your pocket knife gives you a +1 bonus. Your Danger level is at 3.

You rolled a 2 +1 = 3. You beat the creature.

Draw Clue 10

It's probably unwise to engage such a savage beast in combat, but Danger is your middle name. You land a few quick jabs on the creature before it can react, and then you throw it to the ground. You stand there for a moment, your confidence high. Then, the creature leaps to its feet and rushes you. You managed to win Round One, but you're in no hurry to start Round Two, so you race for the shadows beside a big boulder before the creature can get its hands on you.

Draw Clue 25

You find a pair of binoculars in the shadows. With the creature on the loose, you can't hide here forever, so you run to the guardhouse.

Keep this item. Observation +2

Go to Story Card 19

You were lucky to escape the creature, but you know it's still out there... somewhere. You run into the old guardhouse, which is a small room with several TV monitors flashing black-and-white images of various places on the estate grounds. Some monitors are broken, and shards of glass are scattered across a desk and the wood floors.

A hefty book titled History of Nothwin County is lying on the desk. Curious, you look up the name "Marsden, Henry" in the index. Sure enough it references an entry on Page 93. Your heart races as you turn there to read this bio:

Henry Marsden, born 1839, died 1887. General in the Union Army during the Civil War. Severely wounded at the Battle of Shiloh in 1862. Appointed warden of Hedge Brook Prison in 1880. Rumored to have been killed in the Prison Riot of 1887.

Not a popular guy, you think.

The desk has three drawers - maybe there's something useful inside. A wooden ladder leads up to a hatch in the roof filled with cobwebs you can see an open field that leads to the manor's front door. You consider what to do next.

Optional Challenge: search the desk drawers

Challenge Rating: 3

Win: Draw Clue 4

Lose: Raise Danger Meter by One.

Your binoculars give you a +2 advantage to this challenge.

Do you take the challenge? Vote on kofi!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Do you

Climb the ladder to the hatch in the roof

or

Crawl through the window and run for the front door of the house

Vote on kofi

[shiloh-the-pokemon]

Off-Screen Post

Shiloh didn't make it far before needing to camp for the night. They ended up finding a small pond surrounded by trees and rested in the shade, though not before snarfing down some berries.

They woke up the next morning as a Raboot. It was always nice to have hands. They checked their satchel to make sure they had both their phone and the Tera shard, and kept going.

Shiloh continued walking, snacking on whatever berries they found. They missed their diet of sandwich ingredients dearly. That, and sleeping under a roof. And their friends at the Elite Four.

So how lucky for them to spot Larry in the distance, just on the outskirts of a town.

"you have to be shitting me." Shiloh whispered under their breath to no one in particular.

Shiloh ducked behind a bush before Larry could see them. They had no idea why Larry, of all people, was just outside this town.

Shiloh desperately wanted to avoid him, or more accurately his Pokemon. Shiloh imagined Larry would not care much, he was fairly apathetic about anything outside his paycheck. But Staraptor? Or Flamigo? Any one of Larry's Pokemon would ask terrifying, probing questions. Like, "Where have you been?" and "Are you okay?".

Secretly, a part of Shiloh ached to dive out from behind that bush and see Flamigo. They could steal a few bucks out of Larry's wallet, and kick vending machines until they got all the chips they could feast on.

As far as Shiloh saw it, things couldn't go back to normal though, not now. Not when their wounds were so fresh, and not until Shiloh knew who they were.

So they took the first oppurtunity to run north. As far as they could tell, Larry didn't spot them, or he simply didn't care.

Shiloh kept running until their legs begged for them to stop. Then they returned to another leisurely stroll. They found a river, and walking downstream gave them a lucky bridge. A bit of water could not stop them, even as a fire type.

A lot of water, however, could. A lake, for example, might prove too challenging. A lake such as, say, Casseroya Lake.

Even on a cloudy day, Shiloh could not deny that the lake was beautiful. They stood for a while watching the water. For some time, they were mesmerized, their thoughts silent. Though eventually, their thoughts began to spiral once more into a complicated and painful identity crisis. The usual.

They forced themself out of it with one simple thought, "how do i get across this big frickin lake?"

Shiloh slowly walked west along the lake's shore, staring at the water. They thought aloud, muttering just under their breath. "im gonna neeed a big frickin bridge i tell ya. or an abandoned boat with oars. thatd be fun. paddle across the lake. til the boat breaks, i guess. thatd be a yikes moment."

Shiloh continued muttering to themself for several minutes. They were abruptly stopped when they bumped into someone.

"Mind yourself, now."

"sorry, got distracted." Shiloh muttered.

"Boats, yes?"

"oh, uh, yeah. thinking about finding a boat and paddlin across this lake."

"Something across the lake? Or perhaps, someone?"

"uh, no. to neither. just going, i guess."

Shiloh kept walking, staring now at the ground in front of them. Until the person behind them called out, "Do you need a ride?"

"oh shit you got a boat?" Shiloh whipped their head around to the stranger.

"oh shit," They thought, "i shoulda watched where i was walking."

The stranger walked up to them and looked down, "Suicune, by the way. You?"

Shiloh was getting nervous. This was a legendary Pokemon, they had never met a legendary Pokemon. They had been a legendary Pokemon, many times, but this was a true blue legendary. At the time, Shiloh was a just a tiny Raboot. Suicune could squash them with the might of a thousand waterfalls, if it so pleased.

"oh- um, uh- my- my name? i got one of those?"

Suicune turned their head in confusion, "Yes, and it is?"

Shiloh looked anywhere else but Suicune, "its- uh- its really cool. i tell ya that."

"Well, Really Cool, you need a ride?"

A ride from a legendary? That was unthinkable! And possibly blasphemous? Shiloh had no idea at this point.

Shiloh's voice cracked. "yeah thats super nice you have a boat or something?"

Suicune lowered itself to the ground, "I am the boat."

Well, Shiloh sure felt like an idiot right now. They walked up to Suicune, "do i just," They grabbed onto its purple mane and swung a leg around. Their voice cracked again "does that work i can get off if it doesnt its fine really if-"

Suicune abruptly stood up. Shiloh gripped its mane with all the strength they had. Suicune looked back at them, "Hold tight, Really Cool."

[troacctid]

A selection of nostalgic books and book series from my youth, ranked by how many works they have on AO3

Harry Potter, by J.K. Rowling (554,168)

Percy Jackson and the Olympians, by Rick Riordan (40,673)

Twilight, by Stephanie Meyer (13,370)

Chronicles of Narnia, by C.S. Lewis (5516)

His Dark Materials, by Phillip Pullman (2567)

Animorphs, by K.A. Applegate (1881)

Artemis Fowl, by Eoin Colfer (1213)

The Inheritance Cycle, by Christopher Paolini (1018)

Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, by Douglas Adams (735)

Young Wizards, by Diane Duane (733)

Bartimaeus, by Jonathan Stroud (400)

The Old Kingdom Series, by Garth Nix (385)

Goosebumps, by R.L. Stine (250)

The Count of Monte Cristo, by Alexandre Dumas (234)

The Wizard of Oz, by L. Frank Baum (220)

Chronicles of Prydain, by Lloyd Alexander (151)

Ender's Game, by Orson Scott Card (134)

Unwind, by Neal Shusterman (133)

Ella Enchanted, by Gail Carson Levine (29)

The City of Ember, by Jeanne DuPrau (17)

My Teacher is an Alien, by Bruce Coville (11)

Bone, by Jeff Smith (10)

The Indian in the Cupboard, by Lynne Reid Banks (7)

Boy/Girl Battle Series, by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor (7)

Hatchet, by Gary Paulsen (6)

Peter and the Starcatchers, by Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson (6)

The Lost Years of Merlin, by T.A. Barron (5)

Magic Shop Series, by Bruce Coville (3)

Faerie Wars, by Herbie Brennan (3)

Heir Apparent, by Vivian Vande Velde (2)

Molly Moon Series, by Georgia Byng (1)

The Seventh Tower, by Garth Nix (0)

The Mouse and the Motorcycle, by Beverly Cleary (0)

Scorpion Shards, by Neal Shusterman (0)

Help! I'm Trapped..., by Todd Strasser (0)

I Was a Sixth Grade Alien, by Bruce Coville (0)

Angela and Diabola, by Lynne Reid Banks (0)

The Eyes of Kid Midas, by Neal Shusterman (0)

Shiloh, by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor (0)

The fact that there is nothing at all under The Seventh Tower feels like an attack on me personally.

[kylo-wrecked]

❝ imagine a world where you're happy. ❞ - Modern!Ben

{ 🫀 You broke and bought: Modern!Ben }

Oceans disappear here. City of magic, city of moons that burn as suns. The ocean behind Ben's shoulders whittles to a whale's spine arching over a parched landscape. The sea, all that teal and fizz, was a mirage, perhaps a dream.

Ben turns away and leans forward in his seat, losing all sense of object permanence. Now he sits at a patio table, on the brim of a wide martini of a restaurant, facing Miami Beach and its depression glass skyscrapers, rosy or green, crescenting a dark lagoon. Ben listens to the buzz of human chatter, the whisper of a distant sea, its hush, its faint scent, the dryness of bone, the sense that the moons are somehow burning. On his periphery, he spots a siren or an angel, her red hair singing, buoying his heart.

"Shiloh." 

He smiles. Shiloh smiles in return.

"Ben."

They discuss sun-washed lakes, lunar tides, and Pegasus, the white steed that galloped forth from the thunderous sea, his feathered sprays beset by frothing foam.

All the while, Ben feels the dead whale's presence at his back. He looks over his shoulder again. There is no carcass, no whale spine, just diners in beach colors at tables like theirs, buzzing and fizzing.

Shiloh asks him a question. He turns around, once more, and once more, and she catches Ben's gaze, and he’s caught in Shiloh’s, where Ben has no body, no tightly-seated legs, broad shoulders, or aching core, and bodilessness is freedom in Shiloh's Cupid lips, her filaments. Nothing makes sense. Ben gazes at her openly nevertheless, and that's a dream of some sort, too, he knows, but he throws himself into dreams. Knowing, as he watches Shiloh's filaments of red or copper, sprawled above her head, billowing from an invisible current, one that doesn't move through him, knowing that he's separate in a way he can't place. 

He asks her what he's missed. She says, imagine a world where you're happy. 

Ben's flesh prickles. Somehow he senses the whale carcass at his back again—there! Ben zeroes in on its reflection, its position on his glass, and starts, his kneecaps upsetting the table, upsetting the glass, sending it tumbling. The whale carcass shines in it like a portent in a crystal ball as the glass plummets and remains in its shards upon shattering. And so the dream shatters, and Ben shatters, upon waking in specially loomed darkness, the smell of fresh, non-branded linen, , and inside the crushing recollection that Shiloh's gone.

Ben lifts his head, glances at his phone, the hour, and drops his pillowcase-imprinted cheek back down, feels stubble raking cloth, his chest burning. He takes a breath—one, two, three, and in, one, two, three, and out. Breathing as a waltz. Breathing and swimming in visions of Shiloh—the whale—the dark lagoon—the Miami Beach that wasn't Miami at all.

Shiloh would not be as he dreamt of her, wherever life took her, wherever dreams went. Ben's already beginning to forget her face and billowing hair as he lies idle in his wonderings. Until he can only recall what Shiloh looked like the last time he saw her, and the sun is at half-mast.

@itmeanspeace

[viaphni]

art dump from the Recently 💪

[weoie]

some characters !

[shiloh-the-pokemon]

Off-Screen Post

Blue raced through the streets of Cascarrafa as fast as his little legs could run. Shiloh had no trouble keeping up, but being out in public made them nervous. There were glances and stares from what felt like every angle. Shiloh tried to keep to back alleys, but it was hard to do both that and see where Blue was racing too.

Blue stopped for a minute, clearly out of breath, "Hurry up, Cloud! What if I told you its the greatest surprise ever!"

"yeah, can we just-"

Blue was already racing off again before Shiloh could finish.

After a few more minutes, Blue stopped in front of an alleyway. He started jumping in the air.

"Back here back here back here!"

Shiloh walked up to the alley. There was a left turn at the end of the alley. Shiloh walked in, and Blue walked next to them.

"Okay so basically um, before I show you my big surprise I gotta tell you a story."

Blue stepped in front of Shiloh before they could turn the corner. Shiloh sat down, "alright, lets hear it."

Blue could hardly stand still, Shiloh was afraid they would literally start bouncing off the walls with excitement. "Alright alright alright. So basically. There's this big tall building here, and that's where the strongest Pokemon ever go to battle! I think! And I went to battle there too! Because, um, I had a trainer. Two trainers! My first trainer, they gave me to a new trainer. Because they had a different Wooper. So the other Wooper went to my old trainer. I think it was because I was different. And the other Wooper was not blue and not different."

For the first time since Shiloh had met Blue, his giant smile went away. "The new trainer, we went to the tall building to fight the strong Pokemon. And um all his other Pokemon got hurt and couldn't fight. So it was my turn. But then..."

Blue climbed on top of a trash can for dramatic effect, though most of the effect was lost due to how long it took them to get up there. "The strongest Pokemon ever came out! And it had this big giant crown! And it beat me!

"And my new trainer, he got really mad and sad. He was- he was not nice to me. I think because I lost.

"So guess what!" Blue's smile returned, "I ran away from him! And he searched and stuff but he never found me because I'm the sneakiest ever! So that's why I'm gonna prove him wrong and show him I'm the strongest ever, even if I am blue!"

Blue turned the corner. He poked his head out after a moment, "Psst, follow me!"

Shiloh followed him back. Behind the corner was a pile of glistening blue shards. Shiloh could recognize them, Tera shards. Water ones too, by the looks of it.

Blue walked over to the pile, "Tada! My crown! Um, its a work in a progress."

Shiloh walked over, the blue glow reflected in their eyes. It was astounding. "how many of these are there?"

Blue was beaming with pride, "65 glowy blue shards! I'm gonna evolve into a Clodsire, and then I'm gonna have two more feet, and then I'm gonna make a crown just like the strong Pokemon have! And then I'm gonna be so strong! And- and!"

Blue kicked one of the shards out of the pile, "Now I'm gonna have 64 because I'm gonna give my 32nd friend Cloud one!"

"blue, buddy, you dont have to-"

"I wanna! 32 is a special number because its half the number of shards I have now! So if you don't take one then its not a special number and I can't get you all excited for nothing!"

Shiloh picked up the shard and stared at it. It felt cool to the touch, and it reflected their face in its surface. "thank you." Shiloh smirked, "youre definitely gonna be the strongest clodsire ive ever met, i tell ya."

Shiloh was, of course, lying through their teeth. After all, they knew Clodsire of the Elite Four.

...Who they ran from.

"You bet I am! And! I'm gonna have the coolest crown ever!"

The glistening of the Tera shards faded. Shiloh looked up, expecting a cloud to have passed overhead. Instead, they found that the sun was already setting. Had they really spent the whole day in Cascarrafa?

"yknow, crown or not, youre still pretty cool."

"D'ah, thanks Cloud! You're cool too!" Blue yawned, "So what are we gonna do tomorrow?"

Tomorrow. Shiloh would be something else tomorrow. And they couldn't stay here. Shiloh didn't know why, but they felt the urge to keep moving. As if staying in one place too long was dangerous. As if getting comfortable was a bad thing.

As if they shouldn't let people get close to them.

Shiloh looked at Blue and sighed, "sorry bud, but i got somewhere to be. important stuff, yknow?"

Lies.

"What! But we were having so much fun. You'll come back, right? I gotta show you my crown when its done!"

"i-" Shiloh didn't want to make false promises. But Blue was silently pleading with them. Wasn't there a time when Shiloh was also the weird kid? Wasn't there a time where Shiloh needed a friend more than anything?

...Wasn't that time now?

"i'll come back, yeah. i just gotta. figure stuff out. but i promise."

Blue jumped, "Yes! Go do your important stuff, Cloud! And I'm gonna make the greatest crown ever! Its a deal!"

Shiloh nodded, "catch ya on the flip side, blue."

They ran into the streets, getting out of town before night fell. The Tera shard safely stowed in their satchel.

[primroseprime2019]

Find the Word Game

Thanks for the tag, @spuddlespud

Mould: Maxwell stared up at the stars, his eyes narrowed with bitterness. It had been a long time since he last saw Solomon. It made his blood boil when he saw his so-called brother. And with other Heathians, no less. ‘Our father didn’t create us from nothing,’ he thought, clencing his fists tightly, ‘he has mould us from his own blood. Why do you defy his wishes?’

———

Miss: “How did we miss that?!” Azrael exclaimed, throwing his hands up in disbelief as he stared at the Lightning Shard. “I’m… not sure,” Gabriel sighed, rubbing his head. “Well let’s get it,” Nora said as she walked forward. Nico jolted and grabbed his sister’s arm to stop her.

———

Middle: “I’m trying to move it but it won’t budge!” Zachary cried as he tried to shove the boulder out of the way. “Try shoving it harder!” Mitchell yelped and he whipped his head to Wendy, “a little help would be nice!” “I’m in the middle of something right now!” Wendy shouted as she swiped her sword at the snake.

———

Mixed: Shiloh stared at the ruins of the kingdom with a small frown. He felt his palms become slick with sweat and he fiddled with the hem of his shirt. His emotions were mixed right now.

Tagging: @author-a-holmes @midnight-and-his-melodiverse @junypr-camus @kaiusvnoir @talesofsorrowandofruin @movieexpert1978 @overlookedfile and anyone wants to do this

[askferalshiloh]

*taps at his glass enclosure*

He stops running on the giant wheel and comes over. Unfortunately, him running on the wheel was the thing giving electricity to the whole school, and the lights go out.

From there, you're not sure what happened.

You wake up covered in bedding, and the glass enclosure has been completely shattered to bits. You now cannot get up without risking cutting yourself on the shards, and Shiloh is nowhere to be seen

BAD END

[axelmcsm]

📂 one for all the ocelots/blaze rods. misfit mania additions included. now.

oh peepaw how you are enabling me

aiden:

has a matching obsidian shard necklace with lukas, he never took it off even during the sky city thing because a part of him didnt want to lose it even if he hated lukas' guts at the time

maya:

extremely good fighter, probably the most skilled out of all the ocelots/blaze rods. also extremely intelligent and way better at planning adventures and builds than any of the boys were

gill:

despite being a bit airheaded at times hes a hard worker- he puts a lot of love and care into the builds he does on his own and the builds he did with the ocelots

ryssel:

despite not really being a blaze rod, he considers himself one bc hes aidens son. anyway he inherited his dads firey nature and he looks very similar to aiden minus the obvious connections to cosmo. also he inherited adhd from aiden

shiloh:

ALSO not technically a blaze rod, but considers herself one due to her parentage (gill/maya). due to having three younger siblings (noelle, noah, reggie jr) shes instinctively very protective and very leader-like. while ryssel considers himself the leader of the "new" blaze rods shiloh is really the one in charge

[antisocialxconstruct]

🌊 for your gremlin hypebeast Shiloh (bonus points if they actually fuckin admit they aren't okay)

okay but let’s be real there’s only really one person who’s getting an admission like that any time soon.

-//-

The glass smashes satisfyingly into the wall, then hits the pavement in at least a dozen pieces. By then you’re already hefting another one out of the cardboard box beside you and readying it for the same fate.

No one in your complex can afford a car anyway, you might as well get some use out of the empty parking lot. And this is at least a step up from your usual methods for blowing off steam.

You’re already wound up to throw the next one but you pause, catching movement on the edge of your vision a second before Zaven turns the corner, catches sight of you, and freezes. You must look pretty convincingly  like you’re prepared to pelt them with glassware. Their hands go up in at least a half-joking gesture of surrender and you sigh, lower your arm, and wave them over. Their eyes dart briefly from you, to the case of glasses at your feet, to the handful already shattered against the outer wall of your apartment building. “Huh,” they muse as they drift to a spot at your side–giving you a slightly wider berth than usual though, you notice. “So that’s what those are for.”

“They’re from the dollar store” is the only explanation you offer, before reeling back and throwing the glass in your hand to join its fellows in oblivion.

Zaven doesn’t say anything in response to that, and in the silence that follows you hesitate, suddenly growing uncomfortable under the familiar weight of Zaven’s quiet scrutiny. You cast them a hasty sidelong look as you shift your weight.

“D’you need something?”

“I was… in the neighborhood,” they respond slowly. Then, as gently as they can manage, they add, “rough day?”

“Yeah dude I’ve had a rough fucking day,” you scoff, “what else is new?” You shove your hands into the pockets of your jacket, find nothing, mutter a sharp “ah- son of a bitch” as you squint up at your balcony on the third floor. You remember emptying your pockets onto the living room table like usual. You must have left your cigarettes there on the way back out.

Zaven just keeps watching you with guarded interest.

“I’m sick of it,” you mutter, plucking another glass from the box and turning it over in your hand.

“Of what?” Zaven asks, their tone still cautious. You glance over at them, then roll your eyes with a broad, emphatic gesture. The city? Your life? Everything? Zaven just answers a moment later with a thoughtful nod, understanding more readily than you expected. Maybe you shouldn’t be surprised.

You hesitate a few seconds longer, studying the glass in your hand as you run your thumb over the faceted sides of it. Mass produced, with a vague attempt made to give it some kind of cosmetic interest. In the end it’s nothing but a cheap facsimile of something more valuable. You hurl it at the wall with as much force as you can muster.

It explodes in an especially spectacular burst of fractured shards, and just like that something snaps.

“What the fuck do I have to do, Zaven!?” you spit, and they almost manage to hide the flinch as you abruptly round on them. “How the fuck am I supposed to make people get it? I change my hair, I change my clothes, I change the way I walk, act, every- I changed everything! Did I not do enough? Am I not trying hard enough?”

You pause but you have no idea what kind of answer you’re expecting Zaven to give, and judging from their expression neither do they. But beneath their confusion there’s a hint of something else in their eyes… understanding? Sympathy…? “Is-” they start, grasping for something to fill the silence. “Is this about-”

“It’s about everyone!” You wheel around again, raking your fingers through your hair and forcing a deep breath into your lungs. “It’s about fucking everything. It’s about Herald-” you seize another glass, fling it at the wall without hesitation, “thinking a goddamn pep talk is gonna inspire us to relive the glory days. It’s about Steel-” Another glass, another violent shower of shards, “looking at me like I’m a fucking ghost here to haunt him specifically. It’s about Ju-” you falter for a second, looking down to realize that the box at your feet is empty. So you kick it, sending it tumbling end over end into the corner of the parking lot. You drag your hands down over your face and let out a long frustrated groan. It takes a concerted effort not to start sobbing right then and there.

It feels like there’s a long stretch of silence before you finally hear Zaven’s voice again, just a soft, tentative “Shiloh…?” You don’t look up, but you don’t do anything else either. Zaven’s boots scuff against the pavement as they take a couple steps closer. “I-… you’re not… doing anything wrong, it’s just-”

“Man are you sure?” you snap, dropping your hands to your sides again, balling them up into fists for lack of anything else to do with them. You’d really kill for a smoke right now. “Because I feel like I’m in a fucking uphill battle to be taken seriously and my opponent is me.” Before Zaven can say anything you turn on your heel, stalk a few paces away as you unclench your fists, shake the building tension out of your hands. Just trying to burn energy. “Julia’s got this stupid picture on her desk,” you press on before you can think about it enough to start backpedaling. You don’t really know why you’re telling them this. It’s not their business, it’s not their problem. They did ask. You’re still pacing. “Of… from before. It- I just can’t stop thinking, she…” you press a palm to your forehead, screw your eyes shut as the photo comes unbidden to your mind. Julia and Anathema, smiling. And you… a stranger, smiling with your face. “I keep thinking, for seven years she sat and looked at that photo and mourned that person and wished she could bring them back, and it’s- and I just-” the thread of that thought seems to slip out of your grasp unexpectedly, and you give up with an exasperated huff.

“You feel like that’s who she thinks of you as?” Zaven offers.

“I mean she said as much!“

You stop abruptly to face them again, just in time to catch the dawning realization break across their features. Did they not realize? Did they not question the way things stood, the hostility building in your chest and poisoning you through every new interaction with Julia?

“Again, and again, she tells me that I haven’t changed, that she waited for me, that things could go back to the way they were.” You can feel your voice growing hoarse, threatening to crack. You can feel the dam threatening to break. “But the person she- that’s not me! That person doesn’t even exist, it wasn’t even my idea!”

Then there’s another shift in Zaven’s expression, one you can’t quite track. Surprise, first, but then… “What do you mean?”

What do you- … oh. Shit.

A short, nervous chuckle escapes you before you manage to produce an actual answer. “Nothing,” you say hastily, busying yourself with a quick stride across the lot to retrieve the empty box. You can’t afford to let that dam break. Not now, not ever. “Forget about it.”

“Wait- no, Shiloh,” Zaven doggedly follows after you. “It ‘wasn’t your idea?’ What do you- Did… I push you into becoming a vigilante? Is that not what you wanted?”

You halt, crouched down with one edge of the box in your hand, and it takes you a second to fully process the question. Did they… what? Then you straighten again, and when you turn around the horror-stricken look in Zaven’s eyes turns your stomach.

You shouldn’t… You shouldn’t laugh. You can’t help it. They’re so far off the mark and what are you going to do, tell them the truth? “No- god, no,” you insist through your laughter, trying to tamp down on all the emotions you keep ping-ponging between. It’s getting a little ridiculous, all you wanted to do was be alone and break something. “No, no no no that’s not-” you cut yourself off before you start rambling again. Draw in another deep breath. Press both of your hands against the sides of the box, just to have something neutral to focus on. Something tangible, external. Something other than Zaven studying you with a growing look of concern. “Look, I- I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It’s not about you, I swear.”

You dare to glance up then, meet Zaven’s gaze and silently urge them to believe you. They hold your gaze for a moment longer, and you feel like they’re searching your eyes for something. You’re just praying they don’t find it.

Then they sigh, and their shoulders sink as they back down. “Okay… okay, that’s fine. Sorry.”

[viaphni]

Just got a nice new stylus for drawing. Here are my first couple pieces with it!

[localwebslingers]

Peter paced around anxiously for the first few seconds of silence, Shiloh's clothes set down on the ground tucked out of the way. He'd seen the blue glow of her eyes, the way the fire completely engulfed her body so she was nothing but a shape and flames. It didn't make him worry if she was alright any less. For all of five seconds he paced along the roof before his spider sense gave him the warning of GET DOWN just before he heard the glass of windows shatter. Arms over his head to help protect against any shards that flew far enough to reach him.

He scrambled up again to look back at the building, catching sight of the fire burning inside of it. Thick, black smoke was already starting to rise out of it with the smell of burning flesh. If they wanted a way to make sure that none of those things got out, this was definitely a top option. Peter leaned over the edge of the roof he was on carefully to watch down below, for any other zombies. Either wandering out now on fire which would be really bad, or any more wandering in attracted by the sound of the exploding glass.

Neither one happened and after a few more moments, he felt a rush of more heat and looked back to the warehouse. The flames he could catch sight of were white now. Already his mind was rushing to chemistry class. The heat a flame, and how purely it was burning, was told by color. Red was the coolest of them, followed by the most common, orange, and then yellow. White was hot, one step below blue. Blue Fire, just burning clean and hotter than almost anything else.

Shiloh wasn't just burning the bodies, there was going to be nothing but ashes, if that, left after the fire died down.

Three minutes in, Peter swung on webs around the building to get a good look and make sure nothing had gotten in or out. Still nothing. At five minutes he'd been getting ready to do another check when the fire started to lessen. The smoke cleared, the metal sides of the building were warped and clearly damaged from the intense heat they were near. He was shocked they weren't melted and the whole thing hadn't collapsed. And then Shiloh was walking out.

He let out a breath of relief and waved when she looked up at him, leaning down to grab her things before jumping down to meet Shiloh on the ground and not hesitating to hug her, "That was incredible, and so cool, and kinda intimidating all at the same time...are you okay after all of that?" she didn't feel too warm to the touch, and aside from her shirt having been consumed, didn't seem any different. Peter paused and pulled back a little and held out her things, "Uh, right, here. You probably want these back now..."

Crouched in a mirror of one of his classic poses, the fire being that was Shiloh turned her head towards him. Two eerie spots of blue light shone steadily through the flickering flames. Glow masking the small flicker of surprise that flashed through her eyes at his request. She was literally on fire and clearly peachy yet he was still concerned about her well being.

Though her whole face was engulfed in flames, Shiloh's cheeks were feeling especially warm.

Thankfully he exited and she was able to return to the task at hand. The ghostly gaze shifted back to the hoard beneath her. Fire around her finally began to eat through the rafter as Shiloh counted twenty seconds down in her head. Giving Spider-Man time to put a little distance between himself and the window.

3...2...1...

The weakened rafter snapped under her weight.

As she fell, Shiloh closed her eyes and turned the handles on her internal safety valves. Four of the warehouse's large windows, the ones with closest proximity to Shiloh, had the glass blown out from the sudden explosion of flames. Her fire fully engulfed the hoard just before she hit it. Shiloh didn't even feel the pain of impact against bodies and then the warehouse floor. Or even when her healing kicked in. She was too busy reveling in the absolute bliss of burning. So rarely did she get to unleash her flames. And almost never like this.

Ever hungry, her fire devoured the zombies around her but she never stretched the flames beyond the warehouse. Shiloh urged herself to blaze hotter. Paled her flames from mostly orange to mostly white. Partially because she'd promised Spidey not to take too long, but mostly because fuck did it feel good.

Finally, when all that remained around her was ash and fragments of bone, when she knew her five minutes were nearly up, Shiloh reluctantly closed the valves. She sat up from where she lay on the floor, black bra and panties still fully intact. The way ash fell around her like snow was sickeningly peaceful to Shiloh. She was also rather proud of the warped metal walls.

When she exited the warehouse, ruffling ash out of her hair, her knees were only a little shaky. She turned her head as she walked. First the side to see if wall panels looked as cool on the outside as they did inside. (They totally did.) And then up towards to the rooftops to try and spot Spider-Man.

[idv-thespians]

💥 with Shiloh and Rosalyn (@ask-idv-puppeteer) (I'll bother you for at least once- ÙwÚ)

Ending up in an accident - 💥

The bright sun was up and shining down the Arms Factory map, but that was not helping Rosalyn, who looked around desperately for anyone who could help her. She had been caught and tied to a rocket chair by the hunter, who happened to be Bloody Queen.

That was only the bad news, at least. The good news was that one cipher was left, and primed, even better, the rescuer was already on the way.

Shiloh shouted to her while running. "Don't move, I'm coming!"

As the actor dashed to the chair, the huntress raised her blade, ready to quickly end him with a convenient terrorshock, but even as the shard came on his back while he released Rosalyn, he still managed the rescue without the assistance of the cipher completion.

Mary was stunned by the lack of terrorshock, and further stunned when the actor snapped his clapperboard at her, dragging Rosalyn with him to the gate that the team was already opening.

His grip was firm, but harsh. Almost as if worried to let her go. Once they were at the gate, however, he let go, looking around for the huntress.

Rosalyn was relieved it turned out okay, but was still concerned. The only people she knew didn't drop immediately at such a scenario had their own dark reasons. Whether it was a life filled with worse horror or the ignorance caused by lies already snaking in their blood.

So, what skeletons did Shiloh have buried in his closet? Or did he have any at all?

---

Once they were safely back at the Manor, Rosalyn followed Shiloh through the hall, who was even humming light-heartedly. Almost as if he didn't just face the possibility of a loss, since they didn't actually die.

As Shiloh made a right turn, Rosalyn followed suit, but as she turned, she was face to face with Shiloh.

"Why are you following me?"

'I just wanted to ask, about that match. why didn't you get terrorshocked?'

Shiloh's stare relaxed, his lips curving into a small smile.

"Oh, Rosalyn, that's nothing, really."

Lie.

'tell me the truth.'

"The truth is not important here." Shiloh's voice dropped, suddenly dripping with a snappy tone. His eyes narrowed at her, the smile, unexpectedly grew. It was tense, As if someone was forcing him to smile to her.

Another lie.

'why, because you're a liar just like Mr Riley?'

Rosalyn paused at the last words she wrote on the screen, looking down at them silently. That... No... That was too harsh.

Shiloh simply looked indifferent. He silently read the words, before briskly walking away.

"Don't waste my time if you want to spend it hurling insults at me." Shiloh mumbled, turning away.

'wait!! I didn't mean it! It was an accidental!'

Rosalyn ran after Shiloh, who slammed his room door in her face so quickly that she felt the wind knock against her, and the loud 'boom' that followed shortly after.

Maybe she'll ask him another day...

@ask-idv-puppeteer