#Fallen Hero Rebrith

[pffpth]

All i know how to do is shitpost

My two sidesteps, Morgan and Risk, different sides of the same nihilism coin.

[chaniters]

Mind Trick

Ortega looks for answers but finds more questions instead. Cyrus attempts to develop new skills and forget inconvenient truths. --------------------------------------------------

“You keep saying they escaped, but that doesn’t make any sense.” Vernon grumbles “So why don’t we get on the same page here, Charge?”

“I already told you, we lost them when the police got involved. You can…-” he interrupts himself as a huge black cat leaps onto his lap, turning to give him a brief cross-eyed stare, then jumps back to the floor and onto his owner’s lap, curling into a ball and closing his eyes. “... I was going to say that you can verify that… how many cats do you have?”

“Seven,” Vernon replies, running his palm over the cat’s back as it purrs peacefully. “Thing is, Marshal, my sources tell me that Husk has been removed from all of the major agencies' shitlists.”

“Husk was removed? But then that means…-” 

“That someone already got them, yes I’m aware. And since your face looks like one huge question mark, I’ll assume nobody told you. You of all people should be used to it by now, that’s how it usually goes in this town. ” 

“But that…-” “My turn. What happened with Sidestep? He is the big lead, and he disappears the same day that Husk does? I don’t believe in coincidences.” 

“I don’t know, we… we don’t know. His communicator went silent and he’s not answering messages. We’re still looking for him. Anathema and Sentinel are helping with that” Charge replies, looking down. Frustrated. 

Vernon sighs, letting the cat down.  

“Well Marshal, I have real deadlines on me, and if you don’t have anything but yesterday's news then you’re useless. I’d advise you to go back to your tax-payer monstrosity of a headquarters, do the homework, find what happened to him and then we can have another chat.”

“You know we are in the middle of a disaster right?” “Explain to me how your failed love life is my fault?”

“That has nothing to do with this!” 

“Yes, it does. First, I tell you to talk to Riley Carter because her father might have some information, so instead of doing that, you decide to date her and she ends up hating your guts forever. Then you meet Sidestep, the new best lead, and all you have to do is earn his trust but of course, that’s not good enough for you, so you decide to go bi and kiss him. And of course,  he disappears in the same week. Quite the kiss of death you turned out to be.” “Cabrón, don’t joke about that. We still don’t know what happened to him! If you have any tips for us now could be…-” “No more freebies.  This was supposed to be quid pro quo and lately, there’s hardly been any ‘quo’s’ coming back my way.” 

“FINE! I’ll leave. Some help you are!!” Groaning, Charge stands up, walking straight for the door. 

“Damn right I am!” Vernon said, looking down at the cat, before adding in a softer voice “He’ll come back soon enough. You’ll see.”  

—--------------------------------------------

“That’ll be 9 dollars,” you say as you hand over the small picture. 

“She’s gonna love this! Do you have any more of those ‘Coral reef’ ones?”

“No, but I can make you one!” you say, pulling the spray cans.

“Right now?” “If you have the time”

“Oh yes! We’d love to watch you work. Liz! Liz come here!” she yells for her friend. 

“Coming right up” you smile to yourself, setting up the canvass, the cans, and the materials you’ll need. 

Ever since you discovered spray paint art you’ve been obsessed. At first, stealing secrets from street artists using these methods was just something you did to pass time and get out of the mental sinkhole you were left in after 'that' night. Things took a sharp turn when you got your hands on a spray can though. 

Every single waking hour since then has been spent in between your job at the arcade and making your own mylar stencils. Most of the artists you saw were doing the “Planets, stars, and outer space” type of spray art too, so you are going for coral reefs instead just to stand out. Learning is consuming a ton of supplies too. The stencil stuff, those are selling well, and that's good because your pay at the arcade is barely enough to get by. 

There’s no way to know how many more spray cans, canvasses, and mylar, you’ll need to get good at this. 

But it's not about the destination, as you heard someone say while passing by. Selling on the street is not just about the actual work, there’s a bit of showmanship involved. They want to see you do it, and that’s part of the experience. It’s the part you like the most. While working, they can see you without focusing their thoughts directly on you. The work absorbs their attention like a natural shield. 

A few more people start gathering around the original two, and soon there are about a dozen people, appreciating what you do. Appreciating you. 

You like being appreciated,  people loving something you do, and making you feel useful. You have a place here, making these people smile. 

Totally not like Husk. They wouldn't have felt any need to kill anyone if humans had liked them, right? 

You wave the distracting thought away, back into its coffin full of bodies that should remain buried in the deepest confines of your mind, and go back to letting your mind wander through the gathered minds as you work. 

What’s that line?I like turtles!

The light looks so real in it I wish I could draw half as good as this guy…

What is that stain?  no, he’ll ruin it! Ooooh, it’s a dolphin! Liz loves Dolphins!

The smile comes easy, and you feel a brief burst of satisfaction as someone's mind correctly guesses the finishing touch. The one your telepathy told you would make 'Liz' fall in love with the work. And of course, she did. 

Your rhythm is intense, but it won't last long. These spray paintings are fun to make but it doesn’t take too long to finish. Just a few more touches is all it needs. 

“Here you go,” you say, trying to keep a smile as you hand over the work to your buyers. People in the crowd applaud as the woman takes it and pays up, handing it over to her girlfriend, the one she called Liz. The sound is intoxicating, the collective positive psychic energy instantly lifting your mood beyond what it should normally be possible.

“I love this! Thank you! Thank you! thank you!”. She seems really excited about the dolphin. 

 They pay up, taking the picture with them, so you turn to the remaining crowd. Time to find another buyer if you want another rush of good feelings. 

CYRUS????

You freeze on the spot, a chill running down your spine.

There’s definitely someone who knows you in that crowd, but you can’t tell who is it. Not with your shields down like this. 

Shit. Of course, it was too good to last. 

“Sorry, that’s all for today folks,” You say, causing a slight wave of disappointment among them. You start strengthening your shields again, pretending not to see the single individual who remains where they stand as the crowd disperses, staring right back at you.

Of course, they approach. 

“Cyrus, where have you been?” 

“You’re confusing me for someone else.”

“Eh? What do you mean? I know it’s you and…” “These are not the droids you are looking for,” you say, waving your hand and repeating the words you heard the old man say in that movie. 

“These are not… the … looking… for” they babble, turning and walking away dizzily. 

This is the last thing you need, so you can’t help feeling relieved as they walk away. Your powers are unfocused in this state and you couldn’t sure it would work at all. Still, there’s no way to know how long will a weak suggestion like that last. Showtime’s over, and you have to be gone before Anathema returns, so you pack the supplies as fast as you can to walk away. 

“GHA!”

You can’t help letting out a panicked shriek and jumping back as you remove the canvas from the easel, revealing a smiling Anathema grinning at you.  

“That was incredibly rude, my young padawan,” Anathema says, “You are not a Jedi yet” ---------------------

My Fanfiction: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero world. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for his wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

[aced0g]

okay so this was just supposed to be a doodle alkdfjadskf but have my sidestep Cipher past and present

Back in his sidestep days he was very trusting, foolhardy, and innocent. Seven years and a lot of trauma later and he’s not only more powerful but willing to do whatever’s necessary to win or strike fear into people

i fucking love how this turned out i loosely based the fool side of the card after the actual card, but the death side is based on the fact that O!Cipher blew up the museum and caused a massacre 

reblogs>likes

[wesker20]

The price

Ao3 upload

The man drank, hands shaking, sweat dripping down his forehead. It has been a week since he left the envelope, an envelope with the picture of his enemy. Someone who took everything from him. Someone who deserved to die.

But the cops couldn’t do anything. There was no proof, no evidence. There was nothing except for a very legal document that allowed the bastard to take it all. And what he should have expected? This was Los Diablos, the free economic zone or whatever hell the government named it. As long as there was a piece of paper that said ‘you can’ you are free to do as you want.

He was helpless. No one could help hum. Until he heard a rumor. A rumor about it. A thing that would hunt down whoever you wanted if you left a picture. However, you should be ready to pay a terrible price. The man laughed at the thought. I had nothing to lose he thought. So he printed a picture of the bastard, put it in an envelope and left it where the rumors said you should. Either it worked and he died or it was all just a joke and his misery would continue. Either way it did not matter.

Now here he waited, shaking and staring at the news with the hope that they would announce his death. Every night in the last week he sit waiting into the long hours after twelve. But nothing came. Nothing came…

He got up to turn it off when he heard the name of his hated enemy on the news. He sat back into the couch as the news reported his death.

“Yes!” He sprang up. Yes! I did it! It worked! He’s dead! The news continued in the background as the man danced around his apartment. Even if he had lost everything, the bastard would enjoy none of his wins. He drank the last of his drink as he looked back at the tv.

“According to the police,” the anchor began. “The place was a ruin, with blood everywhere. The entire family was massacred.” At that the man froze. Family? No, no, no, no, no. That was not supposed to happen. He was the only one who was supposed to die. The air froze, the anchor’s voice faded as the man fell on his knees. This was not supposed to happen, they were not supposed to die. Only him? Only the bastard who ruined him. A creek echoed in the room and he froze again. He turned and saw a figure standing in the shadows, it’s shape unlike nothing he has ever seen. Another creek echoed and he froze again. The figure moved forward. One step at a time. And as the moonlight shined over the figure the man’s eyes widened, sweat slipped down his face, and his hands shook without stop.

A monster. A monster with stretched out skin over mechanical appendages, a head that resembled a horrifying mix between a person and an insect. It stood far above anything the man has seen, so tall in fact that the creature had to bend down to fit. It stared at the frozen man, tilting its head from one side to the other as if studying him. Then a hand appeared from under it, a human hand, carrying something. The man looked down to see the head of his enemy, his face frozen in an expression of sheer terror. He looked back up at the creature who stared at him. “Pr… Pr…. Pri…”

“Price?” the man whispered. The creature nodded. It stepped back. The man got on his knees. “I have no money. But I can give you information. Anything!” The creature raised one of its appendages. “Please I’ll do anything!” he begged. The appendage came down.

The man’s screams filled the moonlit night for hours, never stopping, never waiving in an endless surge of pain.

[pffpth]

this meme was making the rounds on twitter, and i couldn't help it, the energy was too cursed and 2000score to ignore

anyways, this is how i feel every time herald started getting woobly eyes at my sidestep morgan