#/pre plot drop

[doctorknightley]

WHERE: Main Street WHO: Zarina (@callofthxvoid)

Knightley walked up to Zarina an amused smile on his face, "You know I'd ask if you wanted to go on a hay ride but looks like Finch beat me to it." He was usually better at keeping a straight face but the sheer look of panic she'd shot him briefly had been running through his head. His shoulders shook a bit as he tried to keep from laughing. "Should I be worried I'm going to be replaced as first mate then?" he teased.

[morninkim]

As a show of good faith toward the remaining Decepticons at the beginning of a new, united Cybertron, newly appointed Senators Bumblebee and Soundwave allowed Shatter and Dropkick to enlist into Autobot City's Defense Team.

These two turned out to be... not the best choices.

The city may have fallen to Insurgent Decepticon occupation had it not been for young recruits Hot Rod and Arcee's accidental interception of Shatter's communication with the fugitive Starscream.

To replace the errant Defense Team members, Springer and Blurr were reassigned from Iacon to Autobot City in their stead.

[jakehowells]

Jake wasn't sure whose desk they'd knocked everything off but it was too late to fix it now. Wasn't the first time, wouldn't be the last. Of all things that had happened under the dome, this was the last one he'd have predicted. Not that he was complaining. Faith Hunter was gorgeous, smart and she could still tear anyone down without breaking a sweat. It was hot. Plus, she begrudgingly laughed at his goofy jokes. Everything you could want in a super casual situationship, right?

"Mm-," he started, when they finally parted, "So, you're heading up top tonight? Pretty big stuff." @faith-hunter-hih

[aphel1on]

kind of funny thing when i'm writing trans scaramouche (which is always. just doesn't always actually come up) is that i can't get him to call himself a "man" bc he has too much of a chip on his shoulder abt not being human which he feels like is necessarily implied by the word "man" and well he certainly isn't going to call himself a "boy" bc he has ANOTHER chip on his shoulder about being created to look eternally 16

so if his gender ever comes into question he's just like "I'm Male." and i'm like dude you sound like an incel.

luckily no one in teyvat knows what that is

[luv-again]

620 words today ! isn't the best start but it's definitely good considering i'm slow as all fuck to write anything. got the rest of this prompt/day's chapter blocked out so by the time i sit down again tomorrow hopefully things will just flow on smoothly. i love blocking that shit saves me most days ;-;

[carmenabalos]

WHO: Troy Windsor @troywindsor LOCATION: The deck

Carmen would be lying if she said she wasn't now more fascinated by the man she had slept with only to have him show up for a meeting seeking help from Echo. What were the chances that he turned out to not only come to her for help, but then ended up being the Attorney General. What were the chances indeed. But he had sparked some interest in her attention due to the highly unlikely situation. She wasn't sure what the taste was for the Network to throw such a lavish event in the wake of their supposed allies losing such vital members but she still was working the crowd for their own advantage. It shouldn't have been too surprising to see him through the crowd, but it still was another instance of their paths crossing. Carmen approached him, grabbing two glasses from a passing waiter and held one out when she got to him. "Careful now, if you smile too much someone might think you are actually having a good time." She teased.

[petrificusx]

setting: st mungo’s, blishwick wing opening celebrationfeaturing: corban yaxley & dolores umbridge @apparitixns

If Corban spot a familiar face in the crowd, he would instantly find himself drawn to them. It offered a reprieve in the midst of all the fake niceties and immaculate acting he was doing for his part while mingling with the crowd. So the moment he saw Dolores in the crowd, he knew it would be the perfect moment to take a break from others and to approach a friend. “Dolores, how good it is to see you,” he said smoothly, crossing towards her. “How are things holding over at your Department? You’re the Head of the Department of Improper Use of Magic, right?” He let out the softest sigh, “You know somedays I almost miss my time in that office. Almost. But I’m sure you’ve got it more whipped into shape.” It could have sounded like mockery but it was an actual sincere compliment from Corban. As he grabbed a champagne flute off a passing tray, he raised a brow in her direction. “Seen anything interesting lately, or has it just been reprimanding underage wizards?”

[mcdamemystic]

"Hey, Boberto! I thought it just got cooler in here. C'mon, pull up a chair. Hope you don't mind but I got started on the Sal's Special without you. Need to stay jacked to fight off all these ghosts," she added very seriously (but also like, not). "What's the word, Hummingbird?" @robbie-wilson-ltd

[theskoomacat]

before i start commenting on Silo, i have to share a joke (that sounds better in russian but whatever) that comes to my mind every time i watch this kind of stuff. a family finds a magic lamp and summons the jinn. it announces that the family has three wishes. the daughter immediately screams: "I WANT A HAMSTER!!!", but the father immediately cuts her off: "Fuck the hamster"*. after several horrified seconds he goes: "STOP FUCKING THE HAMSTER"

so like. the thing about Silo s2 is that almost immediately we know exactly what is going to be happening over the next 10 episodes. the rebellion is a huge Chekhov's Cannon 3000 that has been buzzing menacingly since day one. even before that, because a rebellion is a given in this kind of genre. (i also hate how the silo's residents are presented as just A Mob that is swayed by any wind.) whatever. the second is the fact that juliette has to return - the hamster has to be unfucked after we've spent a full season fucking it. which might have been less frustrating if the filler they had to put in s2 had ANY nutritional value. i didn't care much about the 17's survivors, except for maybe Jimmy bc he was at least weird. the rebellion and the power struggle was just BORING, i've seen that shit dozens of times GOD. the rest of the plot is people discovering who's puppeteering the puppeteers - and that stuff is also unsurprising and unexciting. omg i am the Algorithm / guy with a button that can poison everyone, and i'm here to make the entire plot empty by existing. this show failed to give me something original, something unexpected, something with more complicated morality than a Fallout 4 quest. the only thing i can compliment is acting and the sets, but frankly The Foundation (don't ask me why they are comparable in my head) beats it in the latter department.

and there are some things that are simply frustrating. why does everyone focus on the recording of the fake outside when they could clearly see people go out and immediately die? why did the founders even install the fake outside? to make people clean? it's like the founders hung the stability of the silo on the simple act of cleaning the lens and then twisted everything to make people clean them while at the same time putting everyone in danger by lying. the only way i can explain it logicially is if it's all really a huge experiment (groundbreaking) and them's just the rules. you know what i'm too sleepy to remember what else pissed me off but it all just seems like if it is an experiment, it's boring, and if it's not, it's *Spock voice* illogical

anyway. i'm not sure i want to rate this less than From, they had their different good sides, but i truly was scrolling through huge chunks of s2, so that cannot be a good recommendation

[eleanorxshipley]

Self-para (Post Plot Drop).

Awards After Party.

At first Eleanor thought it was some sort of sick joke-- just a horror movie flickering on the giant screen. It only took her a moment as gasps and growls filled the air to realize this hell was all too real. She didn't even know the person that was butchered and tortured, but her stomach churned at the sight, and the thought of how their last moments on earth had been spent.

It reminded her that despite the bubble she had been exiled to when it came to the different factions of their city, there were some honest-to-God monsters among them. Some in this very room. Eleanor had always the mind-set that if someone were nice to her she had no right to not be the same unless given reason to be wary. That was now out the window. Even if she didn't have a target on herself, Eleanor wasn't sure who to trust, either.

Feeling like the indulgences of the evening were about to be all over the floor if she didn't leave, Eleanor swiftly fled the room, but tried not to cause a disturbance. The last thing she wanted was attention to her weakness. Finding the nearest bathroom that she could, Eleanor drew her hair up and out of her face, just in case.

Her hands trembled and her body felt too weak to even rid herself of the churning contents. Instead, Eleanor tried to calm herself with several splashes of water to the face; uncaring if it ruined the make-up she had spent so much time on just hours before. When she had been kind of excited for the night and the awards she was up for. When there was still a sliver of optimism that everyone could gather for once without any bloodshed.

Clenching the edge of the countertop in desperation, Eleanor silently prayed. She prayed that her and everyone else would get out of that place unharmed. Especially those she cared the most about. That footage would haunt her in nightmares to come, but even worse, it made her think about Henri.

Had his murderer killed him him in one clean shot? Or was he tortured until beaten to a bloody pulp? She had been spared the details of his death save from it being a gunshot wound, but had always wondered what really went down. The very idea that some heathen could have taken Henri's sweet soul in a similar manner brought Eleanor to her knees, sobbing. It was all her fault. Not even her hands were clean anymore.

The blonde's breathing escalated, making it difficult to even think, but Eleanor knew she needed to escape. Or search for her loved ones and make sure they were safe. By the time she slipped out of the bathroom, footsteps rattled the mansion. Some she was sure were scattering to hide - others may have been hunting. Hanging out in the small guest bathroom was not an option, even if no one cared to come after her. It was too far to slip outside, nor was it an option when her friends and family were trapped inside. She couldn't lose any others in her life.

Bright eyes misted over with the burn of salty tears, as Eleanor high-tailed it to the kitchen, hoping it might be a harmless place to make camp. That the worst she might stumble upon would be a pissed off chef barking orders at his staff. However the place was silent. Eerily silent. Spotting a kitchen knife on the butcher block, Eleanor quietly took the weapon just in case it was necessary. She really didn't think she would be on anyone's radar. Then, again, maybe the guy in the video hadn't been either.

Eleanor had always been told to never hide somewhere you couldn't escape. Not to allow someone to back you into a corner. Yet, at the sound of footsteps she realized there were only two options for her. The pantry, or freezer. Neither were a great choice, but as voices grew louder she knelt to the floor and crawled her way into the roomy cupboard, thankful for the door that hid her away from sight. The thin crack in the heavy wood allowed her a small peek of the shadows wandering around the room.

Unfortunately for Eleanor, she couldn't make out a word. They could have been civilian wait staff, or fellow innocents trying to hide like herself. Everything sounded like a rampant buzzing. But she couldn't chance it. Shaking fingers curled around the handle of the knife in preparation. The jolt of her phone vibrating with texts from Lara and Samar asking if she was alright made her jump slightly, and she fished her phone out of her handbag to respond and let them know not to come to the kitchen for her. She couldn't take a chance on losing either of them.

Both texts were unsent, for the slam of something in the kitchen (perhaps the freezer door or door to the room itself, she wasn't sure) slammed with impressive strength. Out of anger or frustration... or hell-- knowing this crowd, they may have hid a body in there. The force was so fierce that it not only literally shook Eleanor, but the pantry shelves as well, causing several of the cans and items to rain down on her. Eleanor narrowly dodged a jar of spaghetti sauce as it shattered to the ground, dousing the floor and her dress in what looked like blood.

Eleanor tried to avoid the shards of glass that now sprinkled the floor, which distracted her from one last scuffle of a few spare pans careening to the floor. The very last one, as if a magnet to her, rammed Eleanor into the head on the way down.

Eleanor's phone and knife skittered across the floor as her body slumped, succumbing to the shroud of temporary darkness and unconsciousness.

[gloriousncss]

@umitvar ( maria & felix ) location: upper deck of the naglar time: evening

"Brother!" Maria announced with much gusto, a gift granted to her from the bottom of the bottle gripped tightly in her hand, feet leisurely raised as she sat back in the most lavish chair a ship had ever provided her. If she had to relinquish the gloriously dingy ships that belonged to outlaws, bandits, and thieves, at least she could be as lazy as she wanted. "Please, don't let your favorite sister enjoy the amenities of this fine vessel alone," she raised her eyebrows, her hand on the neck of the bottle rocking it back and forth like a ship on the waves, "Despite the proximity of a ship, or lack thereof, it is always the perfect conduit for trouble."

[mrofontaine]

FOR: @islahvnt WHEN: PRE-PLOT DROP. MINUTES BEFORE VIDEO RELEASE. WHERE: Outside a damn closet. Berkeley Estate.

He shouldn't have been looking for her.

Olivier had told himself only five minutes before he returned back to his date before he let her go altogether. He'd successfully dodged Thomas all night, even if their eyes had connected once across the room; familiar dread cooling his firey stomach.

Still, he found himself leaning against a wall, watching when he caught sight of her walking: he wasn't sure if Isla had seen him, hand snaking out to grab her upper arm.

"Over here," his head gesturing away from a crowd.

[hernando-valdez]

This had been the exact reason Hernando had tried not to drink too much during the night. Things were always too good to be true around here. And though his night with Lyla had been as sweet as he imagined, the last thing he had wanted was to have to wrap his arms around her and practically carry her out of there the moment the lights had dimmed. He hadn't even waited to hear what was being said, too focused on making sure she was safe before anything else. But as much as Lyla would have wanted them to leave once they were reunited with Ian, he could only think of one thing as he started to hear gun shots and saw people screaming and running. He kissed Lyla quickly before he ran right inside, his heart racing as he thought about all of the possibilities. He put his arm over his face as he started to cough, his eyes stinging a bit. "Penny! Penny can you hear me! Penny, where are you?!" The fear of losing her felt all too familiar and he was brought back to sitting by her side as she went through chemo, sitting in hospital waiting rooms with Mikki as doctors went in and out. The fear of losing her had been with him so long it felt second nature and it tore him up inside as he kept looking around, bumping into people along the way.

"Penny! Mikki! Por favor, call out! Call out!" He could feel himself getting frantic, his chest tightening as his mind ran wild with possibilities. "You can find them, you can find them," he told himself, finally managing to reach the other side of the ballroom when he spotted her in a corner after she called out for him. Oh my god, Penny, are you okay, are you hurt?" He reached out and took her face in his hands, doing his best to look her over with their limited vision. "Are you okay?" He wrapped his arms around her tightly, tears prickling at the corner of his eyes as he held her close and kissed the top of her head. "We have to find Mikki, don't let go of my hand okay? No te sueltes." @penelopebeaumont

[ambercast]

(continued from here with @sofia-borbon)

“You don’t know this song? It was everywhere back in the early 2000s!” Nico said with a grin. He kind of recognized her from the cafe, and he waved at her despite her being in front of him. “I’m flying high! I believe I can fly! I believe I can touch the sky!” He laughed. “That’s another song. You know that one?”

[aparticularbandit]

i just realized. re: the very long this post.

in ultimate ventriloquist's murder trial. the victim was monokuma.

like. nobody actually died. and junko would probably think that killing off the puppet that killed monokuma was an equivalent exchange. good bit, good fun, reset to center, no more puppets as people, the joke ran its route, good on everyone!

ultimate ventriloquist wasn't supposed to actually die. it was...it was a bit. a joke!

no wonder it gave junko the shakes.

....

this is either a case 2 or a case 4. i'm not sure which.

probably a case 4.

[izakvoros]

location: kiln (early morning) with: @nakatomi-ayumu

𓇼 - - - - - - - - 🩸 - - - - - - - - 𓇼

Izak looked down at his watch. 2:12 a.m. Despite it being the next day since the party started, the crowd didn't look like it was slowing down much. Champagne and other drinks had been offered steadily by passing waiters since 10 p.m., but Izak had held back on drinking his fill of beer or whisky. His family was somewhere in the crowd, with Erik magically appearing for the event as well. He didn't want them to know about his egregious habits with alcohol, so he chose to take regular bumps of cocaine in the bathroom instead. Though, he wasn't sure how in control he felt, and he knew there was no way his pupils weren't blown.

However, he kept his distance, skirting around his family and only speaking to them if they were near. Luckily for him, they probably thought he was being his gregarious self, a young buck with affable vitality. He found himself talking to anyone who would listen, and even if anyone wasn't he was still chatting away as if he were the star in the room.

Soon, he found himself next to a familiar face, one that he had run across in the celebrity scene but never had the chance to have a full conversation. At least, for what he could remember. It was hard to keep facts straight after playing with the devil's snow. "Hello, you," he practically sang. "You're lookin' pretty lonely over here by yourself. Do you want some company?"