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[racke7]

oh here's some toxicity (reborn au au). it's torito u_u

In another world, the assurance that Itachi would never leave her behind would be enough for Tori. She would find it comforting. She would move on. 

In this world, she really didn’t see why violent revenge couldn’t be her solution. 

“If you’re so mad about it,” Obito drawled at her, “just kill him yourself.”

Obito had thrown himself lazily over the armchair in the corner of her room, right on top of a pair of pants and a sweater she’d worn once and wanted to wear again before she washed them. The chair didn’t match anything else in the room, but it was comfortable. Obito had put it there himself, rescued from an Uchiha elder’s house after they’d died. 

(Of natural causes, he’d assured her.)

He was the primary person who ever sat in it, besides Tori’s laundry. He did it with the lazy decadence of a king in his throne. 

Tori, cross-legged on her bed, pouted back at him. The point wasn’t really that someone killed that guy. It was the intense loyalty the act would mean for her. Had Obito and Minato not both slaughtered absurd numbers of people in an act of love? She wanted that. She wanted someone who liked her like that. 

Would it be bad to break up with her fake-boyfriend if he wouldn’t real-murder for her…?

She had no idea how to explain all this to Obito without sounding completely unhinged. Instead she said, “I’d kill someone for Itachi.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Obito countered immediately. 

“I killed Danzo for him,” Tori said. 

“No,” Obito said, rolling his ankle in the air. He twirled a finger at her. “You convinced Danzo to do something stupid that got him killed because you get off on leading people to their doom.”

Tori pouted some more. 

“I’m glad sensei backed you up,” Obito said eventually, carefully not looking directly at her. His legs were over one arm of the chair, and he rolled an ankle in a loose circle. “You’re okay, right? Besides your unquenchable thirst for vengeance?” 

A sly smile cracked over Tori’s lips. He had shown up the second she was finally in her own home. 

“Aaaw,” she cooed. “Were you worried about me?”

Obito rolled his eyes and finally looked at her. “I just think if you get any more traumatized, you might actually figure out how to destroy the world. It’s the natural escalation of things.”

“You would know,” Tori replied. She unfolded her legs and scooted forward to sit on the edge of the bed closest to him. “Hey, Itachi spent the night the first night.”

Obito frowned at her. “What, you need a babysitter?”

“You could sit outside on the balcony like a gargoyle,” Tori replied. “Bark at passers by. You know.”

“Oooh,” Obito replied, dipping his head back as he leaned into the joke. “Oh, yeah, I could guard the whole apartment. My poor partner was traumatized, after all. I’ll keep anyone from coming in and bothering you. I’ll set up traps and chase your neighbors off. Maybe put up a blockade in the road.”

“Deidara will love this,” Tori said. 

“Deidara is one of the people I’m chasing away,” Obito replied smartly. 

They joked. They talked about silly, unimportant things. Tori watched Obito intently as they chatted. She liked seeing him like this, she thought. Obito was fun when he was relaxed and just fucking around. 

He looked good too, she decided. She missed the mask, but Obito definitely had a nice face. He had the pretty Uchiha cheekbones and a strong jaw, and the messy dark hair worked on him. Plus, he was tall and broad-shouldered and well-muscled and… hmm. 

Hmm. 

Obito started absentmindedly doing little kicks with his feet like a school girl while he groused about how much of the block he could get Deidara to blow up, just by being annoying. 

Tori decided to change her strategy. 

xXx

“I decided I want to break up,” Tori told Itachi. 

“Oh,” Itachi said, frowning down at her. “Why? I’m amenable to making changes.”

Tori shook her head. 

“I don’t mind helping you, or hanging out with you on dates,” she said. “But I realized this arrangement means I can’t pursue my own romantic interests.”

“Ah,” Itachi said. “I didn’t realize you had those.”

Neither did I, Tori thought. 

She nodded and waited to see if Itachi would say more. Maybe he would offer to murder or beat up the person she was interested in. That might make her stay. 

“I suppose that’s reasonable,” Itachi said after a beat. “Thank you for helping me. Would you mind if I said I was too heartbroken to date for a while?”

“Um,” Tori replied. “Maybe we should say we decided we’d be better as friends so we don’t mess that up, and you can say you want time to think about what you want out of a dating partner.” 

Itachi nodded thoughtfully and continued to not offer to kill for her. 

Oh well. She tried. 

xXx

When Obito jimmied open her window, Tori looked up from her desk like she’d been expecting him. Which, she probably was. Obito loved gossip. 

He flopped directly from the window sill into his chair and steepled his fingers. 

“So,” he said. He leered at her, lips pulling back from his teeth. “Did you break Itachi’s heart? Did he break yours? Tell me everything.”

Tori rolled her eyes and pushed her chair back from her desk. Instead of the usual sweatpants she preferred when just sitting around her room, she was wearing one of her little sundresses. She brushed her hair over her shoulder as she eyed him. 

“I decided I might want to pursue my own interests,” she said bluntly. 

Obito raised his eyebrows. “Oh yeah?” he said. “Found some other sucker to sic on your enemies? Teenaged romances are so dramatic nowadays.”

Tori stood.

“I think that’s part of the problem,” she said. “I’m not really a teenager, am I?”

She ran her hands through the signs for a henge, and then a twenty year old Tori was standing in front of him. It was a better aging up than most teens could manage– Tori, after all, had once been physically an adult. She knew the subtleties of her own face and how her body would change with age. 

“Interesting strategy,” Obito said, unsure where this was going. Was she planning to use a henge to seduce someone older? Was Itachi about to lose to some two-bit chump who liked women in short skirts just because they’d agree to murder some other two-bit chump for Tori? That would be hilarious. 

Tori took a step towards him, and then another. She got close enough that the hem of her skirt brushed against his knee, and Obito suddenly realized that Tori’s skirt was quite short, wasn’t it?

“I decided I wanted to pursue more… adult interests,” Tori said, and then suddenly she was in his lap. 

“Wait,” Obito said, voice cracking. “Tori, what are you doing?”

Her hand went over his chin, her thumb and fingers squeezing his cheeks. Obito found this did alarming things to his insides. 

“Have I told you how much prettier your face is than it should be?” Tori said. Her thumb moved up and down his right cheek. “How about you let me mess it up again, and I’ll help you put your eye in Kakashi’s head?”

“What?” Obito full-on squeaked. 

He could overpower her and push her off. He didn’t. He felt frozen, transfixed by her eyes, dark and heavy as she looked at him. 

His heart pounded away in his chest. This was ridiculous, though. This was just Tori. She was probably angling to trick him into letting her store lab supplies in kamui or something. 

Then why the henge? He thought. Tori wasn’t above flirting to get what she wanted, but it was rarely her first choice strategy. He had no idea why it would be her strategy with him. 

The henge is the problem, he decided, hands sweaty. Sixteen year old Tori wasn’t hot. She just wasn’t; she was a teenager. He didn’t… he didn’t remember ever thinking adult Tori was all that hot either, but she’d never crawled into his lap. Maybe it was just the nostalgia this was calling up for him. Or maybe any pretty woman could get this reaction out of him. 

Pretty? No, fuck– well. Either way. He could just get rid of the henge. 

“No, stop that,” Tori said when he activated his sharingan. Her hand immediately went over his eyes. This did even more alarming things to his insides. 

“Oh, because the sharingan is so easily stopped,” Obito heard himself drawl back at her. 

His hands were gripping the arms of his chair instead of stopping her. This was bad. Many abilities of the sharingan could not be stopped simply by covering it, but covering it sure did stop him from seeing unsexy, henge-free Tori. 

He felt her shift, leaning forward. Her hair tickled his cheek and he could feel the heat of her body on his skin. When she spoke, he felt her breath on his lips. 

“Then stop me, if you want to,” she said. 

Obito gripped the chair harder. Tori shifted again, her hand staying over his eyes. She pressed her lips against his. 

I am going to stop this, Obito thought, and then instead kissed her back. 

Obito had only ever kissed Rin before, which had been weird and also terrible. This was also weird and terrible, but in a way where he didn’t want it to stop. Tori was familiar. She knew about the absolute darkest parts of him, and he wasn’t entirely convinced she wouldn’t murder him if given the chance. But she did know him, from his favorite bad jokes to his stint as a super villain. 

She broke the kiss first. 

“Are you going to be a good boy now?” she asked. 

It was embarrassing that he found her wording hot. 

“For you? Always,” he replied. 

She removed her hand from his eyes. He deactivated the sharingan, studying her face. He set his hands and her hips and then trailed them up her waist, and he watched as she bit her bottom lip in response. He liked that. 

There was no way she was doing this if she didn’t want something. Unfortunately, her method had worked in that he did now very much want to give it to her. But what would Tori want…?

“So you want that guy killed?” Obito asked. 

Tori’s eyes lit up. It was… extremely cute. Fuck.

[racke7]

this does not apply if you wear exclusively leggings. Those things tear all the time you need like a million on standby

[racke7]

the idea that restrooms, locker rooms, etc need to be single-sex spaces in order for women to be safe is patriarchy's way of signalling to men & boys that society doesn't expect them to behave themselves around women. it is directly antifeminist. it would be antifeminist even if trans people did not exist. a feminist society would demand that women should be safe in all spaces even when there are men there.

[racke7]

So, last night I was thinking about FF14 and Skyrim again.

Specifically, my feelings of "I played this game all day - do I feel like I actually did anything today, or not".

If I manage to play Skyrim for basically a full day (instead of some random burst of an hour), I usually feel like I've "advanced the story" of that character, gotten better gear, established the character's personality a little bit (doing X instead of Y, prioritizing this quest over that, commentary through regular gameplay, etc).

So I don't necessarily feel like I "did a lot of things today", but it does feel like there's an "accomplished" feeling, kind of.

If I play FF14 a full day, I feel like-... It feels a bit as if I've watched a really long movie (especially if I played MSQ)? It's a sometimes-good movie, so I don't necessarily regret it, but... that's it. Between the queues for dungeon-diving and travel-time, a lot of the gameplay really amounts to "watch a cutscene".

So, I learn new stuff about FF14-lore, I might get inspired into creating a fancy new outfit for a class, and... a few numbers go up? The aftermath of playing FF14 really does feel as if I've spent the day watching a weirdly prolonged movie.

[racke7]

#kushina jr: no im still dating tobirama. jiraiya-san told me polyamory was okay and also..... 'hot'

#tori: go look jiraiya in the eyes and tell him who you're dating. then watch his face and tell me if he still thinks that

Young alternate timeline Minato x Kushina Jr

absolutely everyone hates this!!!!

itachi, who hates it the least*: this is going to make family dinners..... akward.

*itachi has the least stepdad-coded relationship with minato of team 4

[racke7]

AHA! Solved it.

I figured that I'd done something really fucking weird, because the bottom of my dash looked like this:

As in, it looks like my dash was somehow ON TOP OF the message-box. Which is insane, and there'd be an outrage about tumblr's spaghetti-code if something like this happened normally (and I'm seemingly the only one affected).

Managed to track down the "dashboard unfucker" which I thought had been disabled. Turns out, I hadn't ever actually uninstalled it, it'd just stopped working (bcs the author very understandably has left tumblr).

So, disabling that, I now have my messages again.

Also, @graffitinight I'm pretty sure your message-issues is because you've been shadow-banned? Possibly for a long while? (You don't show up in my notes, even when you reblog things from me, which is how I've noticed it.)

Huh. I guess I don't have messages anymore?

Like... they exist as a tab, but clicking on a person doesn't bring up the "conversation box", so I can see that there's new activity there, but I can't read it at all.

Neat.

[racke7]

Update:

It DOES bring up the message-box. The message-box however is hidden somehow?

I keep catching frame-flashes of it existing as I'm scrolling (using page-down button).

I can't fucking READ IT, because it's literally only flashing briefly, but it's definitely still there. Somehow.

Huh. I guess I don't have messages anymore?

Like... they exist as a tab, but clicking on a person doesn't bring up the "conversation box", so I can see that there's new activity there, but I can't read it at all.

Neat.

[racke7]

Huh. I guess I don't have messages anymore?

Like... they exist as a tab, but clicking on a person doesn't bring up the "conversation box", so I can see that there's new activity there, but I can't read it at all.

Neat.

[racke7]

This may be an urban legend and I will preface this by saying that I don't even remember where I heard it, but going to bigger cities in Finland always reminds me of it nonetheless, so I'm telling you now.

There was a student group from either China or Korea - I can't recall which one, but Asian nonetheless - who were in student exchange to Finland, in Helsinki. The finnish hosts did their best to make them feel welcome, touring them around the city on the first day out and about, but they noticed the asian students seeming uneased by something. Not in a way of just being timid about being in a foreign country, but glancing at each other like something was off, and looking at each other with this air of "you're seeing it too, right?" but none of them wanted to be the first to bring it up to their finnish hosts. Both cultures are the high-context type, so they had clearly concluded that since the finns didn't point out the obvious unpromptedly, the subject might be too sensitive to talk about.

Eventually one of the exchange students decided to brave against this potential taboo, and delicately asked: "has something... Happened here?" And there was mutual surprise when the finns had no clue what they were talking about. This was pre-covid, nothing bad had happened there. And one of the exchange students - who still weren't sure whether they're breaching a taboo of something One Does Not Talk About - bravely elaborated. The streets are empty. It's eerie. They're in the central of the capital city and the streets are almost deserted. Has there been some calamity? A plague, an earthquake, have the people fled or been evacuated somewhere? Is it safe to even be here?

And they were just as baffled when the finnish hosts confirmed that no, this is a normal amount of people to see on the street on a normal day. Finland just looks like this. And for the sake of clarity, this is what Helsinki city centre looks like on a normal saturday morning at 10 am:

Both pictures taken by me, this morning.

[racke7]

[racke7]

My immediate thought was to ask whether or not Orochimaru has a functioning womb. And considering how Orochimaru doesn't particularly care about the biological sex of their body, I'd give that a shrug and a "sure".

But then I asked myself "would Orochimaru be willing to put up with period-pains" and like... hmm... On the one hand, I think Oro would consider that kind of thing "way too inconvenient" and immediately just... opt out. Somehow.

But on the OTHER hand, we do get to see Oro in the shower, screaming in agony about their rotting-away arms. And like... that's probably as close as we get to period-pain visuals in the entire series.

(Orochimaru clearly isn't enjoying it, and the narrative says that Oro "couldn't withstand the pain for long enough to wait for Sasuke to arrive", so like... it feels like this kind of comparison swings wildly between "no way" and "Orochimaru absolutely gets period-pains", depending on how you want to read that.)

So. I think that has to be settled into a solid "maybe".

(There's of course arguments about weird chakra-reasons for the answer to be one thing or another. But chakra is made-up weird bullshit-nonsense. You can make any argument about that kind of thing that you feel like at any given time. It can even be contradictory between chapters, and it'll still be more consistent than the source-material.)

Second part. Can Orochimaru be inseminated?

And uhh... that's a whole different kettle of worms.

*steeples fingers*

can orochimaru get pregnant

[racke7]

one of the things i think is really fun about porting a pre-modern story into a modern setting is finding correspondences between story elements - "what act/object/concept fills the same niche in our society as the original element?" and i think that goes really well with my post from last night about essential elements of stories -

i think the best way to recontextualize Achilles' initial complaint against Agamemnon is that you'd be pretty mad if you did all the work in a project and someone else took all the credit, right? when he calls Agamemnon "dogface" etc it's because Agamemnon wants equal right to the glory from the war so far despite having sat in his tent at Troy the whole time.

so if I'm moving it to a college setting, it's a group project where Achilles did all the work. But grades aren't divided in the same way that plunder is - does it change the story too much if Agamemnon plagiarized and Professor Apollo says that he'll fail everyone if the plagiarist doesn't step forward? It's an inversion of the immediate cause of contention (Agamemnon takes too much credit vs. Agamemnon won't take responsibility) but it preserves enough of the spirit of the conflict (Achilles wants to be judged for his own deeds) that it counts for me.

Any retelling has to make a lot of these choices, and I think they're fun, but I also think that that sheer amount of them and their inherent subjectivity make it very easy for retellings to stumble and fall flat.

[racke7]

Update on my day:

Couldn't drive, because the car had ZERO traction on the snow. Glad I found that out at the parking-lot and not on the highway, but definitely not fun.

Managed to take a bus and was only half-an-hour late to work (which my boss decided was fine, bcs I'm usually early so it evens out).

Booked a train-ticket back home. Train got cancelled at the last minute (not enough carts on the train, apparently???), and I had to take the bus instead. (It was NOT a good showing for the train-company, which didn't even have enough buses for all of the passengers.)

I also booked a train-ticket for tomorrow morning, because it's still fucking snowing and I need to be early tomorrow.

[racke7]

"First time she shows interest in him"

Not true: She has a scene where she watches him throw his wet hair around like a Baywatch-girl.

every time i watch one of the non canon naruto movies there are several moments where i just have to pause the movie and laugh. theyre so bad. theyre so fucking bad. god. they should've made so many more of these

[racke7]

Woke up some time before 2AM, drenched in sweat. Got up at 2AM after tossing and turning for a while to go to the bathroom and splash some water on myself. Didn't help.

Got up to check if I had a fever (I didn't) and drenched a t-shirt. Helped for maybe half-an-hour.

So I opened a window. To the -3C outside.

It very slowly started to help. By 4AM my shirt was dry and I wasn't really using the blanket, but it felt... okay?

And at some point I must've fallen asleep, because at 5AM my alarm woke me out of a dream.

I closed the window and realized that it was snowing outside.

I have summer-tires on my car.

[racke7]

WIP excerpt for tabetharasa behind the cut; alpha Jazz, a dark alley, and a very pretty omega. ( + non-chrono link for mobile users )

Jazz has no idea why Red Hood thinks he smells anything but delicious, but there’s a very reckless and dubiously-ethical part of her that would be willing to prove it to him. Not that she would, obviously, because that would be, again, incredibly unethical and highly inappropriate and also a total dick move. 

She just could, that’s all. Just if it came up or whatever. 

“Well, it’s not,” she says, mildly put out by whatever’s going on here, and Red Hood growls. His scent blockers continue to be useless. Just–absolutely useless, yes. 

Ancients, he smells so good. What is she even supposed to do about how good this omega smells? 

Maybe offer to walk him home, or at least offer him her jacket so he has enough alpha scent on him that no one bothers him on his way back to his den. Although he’s a crime lord–or a vigilante? one or the other, whatever–who’s built like a truck, so that probably isn’t really a concern, she supposes. 

Then again, some people seriously do have no sense of decorum. 

Or survival instincts. 

“Shut the fuck up!” Red Hood snaps. Jazz frowns. That seems like a disproportionate amount of anger in his tone. Maybe he's sensitive about his pheromones. Well, if people have been telling him he smells like death . . . 

Though “death” doesn't necessarily smell bad, in Jazz's opinion. 

Admittedly, that's a liminal's opinion and besides the point anyway. But still. 

“Alright,” she says. “But can you get to your den safely? Or . . . somewhere you can den down, anyway, I don't know. I assume you have a headquarters or a safehouse or two, something like that. Or at least can afford a heat hotel or know a decent clinic.” 

Red Hood hisses at her. It crackles through his modulator, but the sound of it still makes her jeans a little . . . uncomfortable, she'll just say. Sue her, she likes omegas with a bite to them. Johnny 13 definitely didn't win her over by being the sweet and polite type; he won her over by being a blunt asshole in a leather jacket who'd convinced her that he was a sincere and straight-up person. 

She wonders how “sincere” the average Gotham crime boss really is, but it’s a little difficult to concentrate on that question with the scent of old books and burning cedar filling up her nose. And also that note of lilac. That note of lilac is a problem. 

A serious problem. 

“I realize heat drop is probably imminent and you must be uncomfortable, but it’s a valid concern on my part, given your condition,” she says, which normally she’d make sound politely disapproving but really can’t make sound any kind of disapproving right now. Again: the lilac. “So can you?” 

“Fuck makes you think I'd let you anywhere near my den?” Red Hood snarls. Jazz blinks; tilts her head. 

“Nothing,” she says. “What makes you think I was asking to go anywhere near it?” 

Red Hood–stalls, briefly. Jazz tries to be polite about how incredibly obvious a tell that statement was. 

Flattering, but incredibly obvious. 

“I mean, I'd be happy to escort you if you’d like,” she says. “Or lend you my scent, if you need it. But I'm not trying to presume anything.” 

“Fuck off,” Red Hood snarls. “Nobody escorts an omega like me.” 

“Do you think maybe you have some self-esteem issues?” Jazz asks. Heat is almost definitely making him a bit more volatile and emotional than normal, considering the kinds of things he’s been saying to her, but it still seems like a valid question. Being on their cycle doesn’t make people different people; just makes it a bit harder for them to censor and control themselves. 

Or a lot harder, sometimes. 

Judging by how strong Red Hood’s pheromones smell right now . . . 

Well, he might be having a harder time than he’s used to having, so far as “controlling himself” goes. 

Jazz certainly is, all inappropriate knotheaded puns aside. 

Do Poison Ivy’s pollens make cycles hit harder, actually? Or does the suddenness of the effect disorient or throw people off, maybe? 

Well, that’s a worrying thought, since Red Hood seems to be out here alone. 

“‘Self-esteem issues’?” Red Hood repeats incredulously, his pheromones briefly sparking with bewilderment. Jazz decides not to press it, since he might be feeling a little vulnerable right now. 

“Yes,” she says. “Is there someone you can call, if you don’t want an escort or to borrow my scent? I could wait with you until they show. No offense, just Park Row’s not a very nice neighborhood.” 

Red Hood laughs. 

“No fucking shit!” he says, spreading his arms. “It’s Crime Alley!” 

“I know, sorry, I just keep accidentally calling it ‘Park Row’ in my head. Still new in town,” Jazz apologizes. She assumes a crime lord would prefer his territory be correctly referred to, anyway. Seems like a thing. She knows standard humans don’t actually have haunts–even most liminal ones don’t, including her–but sometimes she does . . . well, not forget, exactly, but just . . . expect them to anyway, she supposes? 

She spent way too long in Amity, yes. 

Even without Crime Alley being Red Hood’s actual haunt, though, it’s still disrespectful to call it the wrong name. It’s still his territory either way, and she imagines someone on their cycle especially wouldn’t appreciate the mistake. 

“What is your damage?” Red Hood snarls, his voice modulator crackling threateningly as he visibly bristles, and Jazz catches notes of that electric and unexpected edge in his pheromones again. Still vaguely familiar, but still not quite what it seems like it should be. Just . . . 

Really, if she didn’t know better . . . well, she’d think he was liminal. But that seems like a very unlikely coincidence for her first week in Gotham, so . . . 

Then again, her life is her life. 

It’s not really the time to be asking Red Hood about his levels of ecto exposure, though, and she’s pretty sure they’ve both got more important priorities right now. 

“We don’t really have time to unpack all that, to be honest. You really do need to get home,” she says. “Or at least call someone to pick you up. If you go into heat drop alone in Crime Alley, I can’t imagine it’s going to end well.” 

Red Hood hisses. That might’ve sounded like a threat, Jazz realizes belatedly. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she says, apologetic again. “But it’s not safe, is it?” 

“If anyone I don’t want near my ass tries to touch me, I’ll put a bullet up theirs,” Red Hood growls, low and crackling. 

“That seems like a lot of trouble when you’re on your cycle, though,” Jazz says. He’d have a body to deal with, and maybe someone would call the cops–well, she supposes it is Crime Alley, so maybe not . . .? But it’d be self-defense anyway, and if he is a crime lord, maybe he has people for that. 

Hm. 

She really needs to get familiar with this area as soon as possible, yeah. And just Gotham in general, really. Every city has its own idiosyncrasies, but Gotham is its idiosyncrasies. 

Well, so is Amity Park, of course. 

“I think you belong in Arkham, lady,” Red Hood says. Jazz feels like a Gothamite should be more understanding of someone taking supervillain attack side effects and hostile heated-up crime lords in stride, but apparently not. 

“Technically, you’re not wrong,” she says with a wry smile. She’d offer him a handshake, but that’s not really appropriate for an alpha to offer to an omega in heat. Especially not an unmated alpha, which Jazz very definitely is. “I start Monday. Jazz Fenton, psychiatric intern. At your service.”

Red Hood manages to very clearly stare at her without actually taking off the helmet. It's actually an impressive amount of expressiveness to get across, under the circumstances. 

Or there could be a touch of liminal empathy happening, admittedly. That's possible too. Especially with another liminal involved. 

Jazz briefly considers what knotting a liminal omega might actually be like if an empathy loop got established somewhere in the process, which is a lie, because what she’s actually imagining is picking up this liminal omega and showing him exactly how delicious she thinks he smells. 

Definitely inappropriate. 

“They will literally eat you alive,” Red Hood says. 

“I mean, there’s a risk of it,” Jazz allows, because nothing is a perfect guarantee. It’s just not a very large risk. Comparatively, she means. 

“You applied to Arkham on purpose, lady?” Red Hood says disbelievingly. 

“Oh, no,” Jazz says, shaking her head. “They made me an offer. Somebody read my thesis and liked it, apparently.” 

Well . . . “thought we should interview you for either a position or to have your file established for whenever the convictions start rolling in”, whichever. The interviewing psychiatrists had a range of reactions during her interview, she supposes is the best way to put it. 

Jazz really doesn’t think it’s fair to classify her parents as actual supervillains, but an increasingly long list of professionals has, admittedly, not agreed with that assessment. 

She can’t imagine what they would’ve thought if she’d told them about Danny, considering. 

Well, it’s not her problem if someone else is going to be close-minded about things like that. 

“I’m sorry, I’m really not trying to be pushy here, but are you sure you don’t want to call anyone? Or want my scent. Or . . . literally anything,” she says, gesturing a little awkwardly with her shopping bags. “I do get told my pheromones are pretty discouraging to unwanted attention, if that helps?” 

“Sure they are,” Red Hood snorts. Jazz tries not to look disapproving, given his compromised state. That kind of thing can bother omegas in heat, she knows. 

“That’s what people tell me,” is all she says. Obviously it’s not just the default parts of her scent that make it a strong deterrent, but as for the force of the emotions and claim she can put into it . . . 

Well. She just hears it’s “discouraging” to other alphas pretty regularly, that’s all. And also some betas, depending on their sexuality. And, um . . . well, a little closer to “catnip”, for omegas, but . . . 

“I’ll believe it when I smell it, knothead,” Red Hood snorts again. “Prove it.” 

Jazz isn’t sure that’s a good idea, considering–again–his compromised state, but, well . . . he’s clearly a strong omega himself, and maybe she’s a little miffed by him just assuming she’s lying about something like that, that’s all. She knows plenty of alphas do lie about their pheromones or even lay on fake ones, but . . . well, it’s hard not to wonder if he just thinks she’s a lesser alpha because she’s female, or because of how she’s dressed or looks or speaks, or just because. 

Her inner alpha doesn’t love the experience of one of the most gorgeous-smelling omegas she’s ever scented sneering at her worth as an alpha without even giving her a shot to prove it, either way. 

“Are you sure?” she asks.

[racke7]

thinking about tori's chunin exam (the second one) again

one thing i want to play with is tori just having a completely different mindset from everyone, especially when it comes to the point of tests. because her origin story is being a high-strung pre med student, she is acutely aware that tests frequently have more to do with how you understand the exam rather than the material. like yeah, you have to know your shit, but you're unlikely to get into the top percentile unless you ALSO understand the game.

and growing up in oto just reinforces this. you think orochimaru is testing you on the thing he asked you to do? no!! there's seven other secret tests baked into the thing! look underneath the underneath!!

so anyway, tori is very aware that she's being tested on her ninja skills, BUT ALSO on a bunch of other stuff. second round survival portion? you mean her being able to size up potential opponents and, if she plays her cards right, pick who gets into the tournament? why would she try to finish first.... she needs to stalk other contestants and see what they do.

the tournament part she's been explicitly told is for her to show off for Konoha. tori's normal style.... doesn't really loan itself to showing off. so she goes in with a premade plan for a Very Cool Looking Convoluted Jutsu, and now she's shopping for the perfect genin to unleash it on. she is going to pick off genin she DOESN'T think will work with her plan. so she's gone into multiple levels of Off The Rails here

shisui at team 2: they're testing your ability to function in an unknown environment. your goal should be to get to the finish line while minimizing damage

tori: yeah but, see, you can also PICK your opponents for the tournament

shisui: i guess that's technically true. you might be able to pick off a stronger opponent in a setting where you can work as a team, and that will benefit you in the tournament. but you should only attempt that if the opportunity arises and also points strongly in your favor

tori: i mean if you plan enough, you can make anything happen :)

shisui: but it shouldn't be a priority

tori: besides, you don't want to pick off the strongest possible opponents, because the point of the tournament isn't even to win. it's to show off. so you want to shop for genin whose fighting styles are impressive enough it looks good when you beat them, but that you can exploit and--

team 2: what

shisui: tori PLEASE stop giving advice. they are genin

anyway, tori can bias the tournament to a certain TYPE of genin (for her grand plan she wants kiri kids with swords, which is like half the entrants) but she can't seed the tournament. so she unleashes her Cool Convoluted Jutsu second round and then in the finals is like. whelp. i did with i came here to do.

finalist genin: your trick won't work twice!!

tori: cool

tori: (hits him directly in the head with a bamboo pole)

anyway the Mood of this whole arc is that tori is silently freaking out and high anxiety the entire time because she's been given like seventeen goals (win the tournament, but do it in a specific way, also don't melt people that's bad PR--)

but from the outside it DOES look like she just played the whole tournament like a mildly friendly supervillain

shisui, whose previous concept of "young genius" was just "beast modes the challenges," NOT "itachi playing 5D chess in his spare time for no reason": TORI WHAT ARE YOU DOING

kisame: lmao. you're in over your head with that one, kid

shisui: ???