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neurotica-tales · 1 day ago

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Marked by the Chief (Yandere Hiccup x Reader) (1k Likes Special 1/10)

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You were never meant to linger—just a curious traveler chasing your fascination with dragons, passing through Berk on your way to somewhere else. A week, maybe two. Just enough time to admire the wild skies, feel the wind beneath a dragon’s wings, and move on.

But then you met Toothless—wide-eyed, brilliant, and impossibly endearing. And where the dragon went, his rider followed.

Hiccup Haddock. Chief of Berk.

You didn’t plan to grow close. Didn’t expect the quiet talks in the forge, the shared laughter, the way he looked at you like you hung the stars. Somewhere between dragons and drifting snow, you found yourself tethered—to him.

What you didn’t know was that Hiccup had been tethered to you since the moment he laid eyes on you.

You saw kindness in him. He saw forever in you.

Hiccup tried to be patient. To bury the obsession clawing its way through his ribs. To hide the fire that burned hotter every time you smiled at someone else. But tonight, beneath the roar of the village bonfire and the pulse of sweet mead in your veins, something snaps.

You belong to him. And he’s done pretending you don’t.

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Content Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Sexual Content, Yandere themes Breeding, Dubious Consent, Dark Romance

This story contains explicit sexual content and is intended for mature audiences only. If you are under the age of 18, please do not continue reading. This material is not suitable for minors.

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To find the prequel of this story, click HERE.

Next: Yandere Hiccup Headcanon, Yandere Tuffnut headcanon

To find my master list, click HERE.

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The bonfire roared at the heart of the village square, its flames crackling and casting golden light across laughing faces and dancing shadows. The smell of roasted meat, sweet mead, and pine-sap-soaked timber clung to the crisp night air. It was the kind of warmth that seeped into your bones, even as the cold wind whispered from the sea beyond the cliffs.

Hiccup Haddock stood near the edge of the crowd, fingers curled tightly around a carved wooden cup, knuckles pale with tension he refused to let show. He should’ve been celebrating. Should’ve been laughing with Astrid or challenging Snotlout to another round of dragon racing boasts. But instead, he was watching you.

You sat on a log near the fire, cheeks flushed, eyes glowing in the firelight as you laughed at something Ruffnut said. The way your head tipped back when you smiled—it did something to him. Twisted his insides into something unrecognizable. Something needy. Dangerous.

He’d watched you every day since you arrived. At first from afar, then more boldly, especially after that awkward misunderstanding at the forge. It should’ve embarrassed him, thinking you’d been following him—only to find out it was Toothless who had caught your eye. But it hadn’t. Not really.

In truth, it had excited him. The idea that you might be interested, that you might have already noticed the bond between dragon and rider and been drawn in by it. That maybe—just maybe—you were beginning to see him.

And now, he couldn’t stop.

He told himself he was being careful. Measured. Subtle. That he wasn’t letting this obsession take over. But the truth was, he lived for the moments when your eyes flicked toward him in a crowd. When your voice—soft and thoughtful—curled around his name like it belonged there. When you stopped by the forge and leaned just a little too close to see his latest design.

Every interaction fed the fire he kept locked behind his ribs.

And tonight, it burned hotter than ever.

The party was in full swing. Dragons nestled around the fire’s edges, their low rumbles blending with the music. Children ran barefoot through the snow, chasing sparks from the bonfire. Mead sloshed in every cup, and Hiccup couldn’t take his eyes off you.

You were flushed from the drink. He could tell by the way your movements slowed, softened, the way you leaned into Ruffnut with laughter that sent heat rushing to his face.

He hated how vulnerable you looked—tipsy, unguarded, surrounded by people who didn’t know how delicate you really were. People who might lean too close, say something too bold, brush your arm and think it meant something. People who didn’t know how much you meant to him.

A flare of jealousy twisted in his chest when Eret handed you another drink, his fingers brushing yours. Your eyes lit up in thanks.

Hiccup’s grip on his cup tightened until the wood creaked.

He knew he was being unreasonable. You weren’t his—not really. You had every right to talk to whomever you pleased. But gods, the thought of you smiling at someone else like that—it drove him mad.

He took a long breath. Tried to calm the storm in his chest.

Then your eyes found his across the firelight.

You smiled.

A small, lazy thing. Drunk, maybe. But real.

Hiccup’s heart stuttered.

He raised his cup in silent acknowledgment, hoping the gesture masked the way his hands were shaking.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

He pushed through the crowd, weaving between villagers and dragons, his movements more purposeful than they had any right to be. Every step felt like a breaking point.

He found you mid-dance, your arm looped through Ruffnut’s, laughter spilling from your lips as you stumbled through a clumsy spin.

You didn’t see him until he was right there—reaching for your elbow, steadying you as your foot slipped.

"You’re drunk," he said, more a statement than a question.

You blinked up at him, wide-eyed and a little dazed. “Maybe a little.”

He didn’t smile. He couldn’t. Not with the way his heart thundered and his thoughts spiraled.

"Come on," he said gently. "Let me walk you back."

You started to protest, but stumbled again, this time against his chest. He caught you, both hands at your waist, the contact searing.

You smelled like smoke and honeyed mead and cold air. Your breath ghosted against his collarbone.

“Okay,” you mumbled. “You win.”

He didn’t speak. Just turned with you and began to walk.

The path away from the bonfire was quiet. Dark. Only the occasional lantern lit the way. Snow crunched beneath their boots. The warmth of the party faded into distant sound. Behind them, dragons settled for the night, their massive bodies creating dark mounds along the village borders.

He should’ve said something. Anything. But the silence was easier. Safer.

Your shoulder brushed his. His hand hovered near your lower back, not quite touching, but close enough to feel your body heat.

Every step was torture.

You hummed under your breath. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to drink so much. Ruffnut kept refilling my cup.”

He swallowed. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You turned to look at him. “You sure? I’m not making you miss the fun, am I?”

“I wasn’t having fun,” he said. Too quickly.

You blinked.

“I mean—not really. Not without you.”

That hung in the air. Unspoken and heavy.

You looked away. “Eret said the patrol was easy. I guess that’s worth a celebration.”

“Eret,” he repeated flatly.

You didn’t notice the change in his tone.

“He touched your arm. Twice.”

You turned to him, half-amused, half-surprised. “Hiccup… are you jealous?”

His gaze snapped to yours.

“Should I not be?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but something in his expression froze you. Raw. Honest. Desperate.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” you whispered.

His jaw clenched. Not in anger. In restraint.

He stepped closer. Close enough to smell the mead on your breath, to see the gold flecks in your eyes. Close enough that the hunger he’d buried for weeks clawed its way to the surface.

“You drive me crazy sometimes, you know that?”

Your smile faded.

He reached for your wrist, fingers trembling. He had no idea who moved first. Maybe it was you. Maybe it was him. But suddenly—

He moved forward, and his lips crashed against yours.

His mouth was rough. His teeth clacked against yours in that first brutal moment. But then his lips softened, and he curled his tongue around yours. He felt your hands fist in his clothes, pulling him closer. Your nails raked against his chest as you arched into him. Your breath hitched, and he drank it in. Your mouth was hot and wet, and you tasted like sweet mead and berries. He couldn't get enough. He couldn't stop. He wanted to consume you, taste you, drink you in.

No longer trying to be soft or tender, he lifted you into his arms. He cradled you against his chest and carried you towards the steps of your hut. He couldn't wait. He couldn't slow down, but he just had to stumble once—one of the downsides of having a peg leg he suppose—but caught himself with a breathless laugh that died between your mouths.

No sooner had he opened the door, it slammed shut behind him, the sound of the solid wood hitting its frame echoing in the hut. The sudden quiet of the hut enveloped you both, broken only by the hitch of your breath and the ragged sound of his own. The fire had long gone out, but heat bloomed anyway—from him, from you, from the fever in his chest that had finally, finally broken free.

He pushed you gently against the wooden wall, his hands framing your face now, thumbs stroking your cheekbones as if to memorize the shape of you.

“I tried,” he whispered against your lips. “I tried to wait. To go slow.”

Your fingers cupped the back of his neck, pulling him back in.

“I didn’t want to scare you away,” he breathed. “But I can’t pretend anymore. I can’t—not tonight.”

You kissed him again, and it broke the last of his resolve.

His world had narrowed to you. The soft hitch in your breath, the weight of your body in his arms, the look in your eyes. He didn’t even think. He couldn’t. His thoughts had long since frayed under the weight of everything he’d been holding back.

You were in his arms. You’d kissed him back.

He couldn’t stop now.

He lunges forward once again, his mouth crashing into yours. It’s not gentle. It’s not soft. It’s starvation, pure and raw. His teeth clash against yours, but then his lips part, tongue sweeping in to claim yours. You moan into him, your hands fisting in his hair, pulling him closer. You need more.

You need all of him.

Your bodies press together, the heat of him searing through your clothes. You can feel his cock, hard and insistent, against your stomach. You grind against him, a gasp tearing from your lips as his hands roam over your body, memorizing every curve, every line.

Clothes fell away piece by piece, careless and trembling. His fingers were clumsy, not from lack of experience, but from too much feeling. Too much need. It wasn’t about lust. Not just lust. It was desperation, devotion, weeks—months—of restrained longing finally clawing its way to the surface. He lifted you like you weighed nothing, carried you to the bedroom upstairs, his mouth never straying far from yours. He doesn’t break the kiss even as he lowers you onto the mattress, his body covering yours, his weight pinning you down.

You love it.

You love the feel of him, the taste of him, the smell of him. You love everything about him. Your hands are everywhere, pushing his clothes off, needing to feel his skin. He breaks away from your mouth, his lips trailing down your throat. He nips and licks, marking you, claiming you. You gasp, arching into him, your nails digging into his shoulders. He groans, the sound vibrating against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“Hiccup,” you whisper, his name a plea, a prayer, a promise. “Please.”

He growls, his lips moving lower, over your collarbone, down to the swell of your breasts. Your nipples peak, aching for his touch. He doesn’t disappoint. He takes one into his mouth, sucking hard, his tongue licking and teasing. You cry out, your back arching, pressing more of you into his mouth. He groans, his hand cupping your other breast, thumb and forefinger rolling your nipple until you’re writhing beneath him.

He moves lower, his lips trailing over your stomach, his tongue dipping into your belly button. You shiver, your hands gripping his hair, urging him on. You can feel your arousal, slick and hot, coating your thighs. You can smell it, sweet and intoxicating, and it drives you both wild. He moves lower still, his lips brushing against the inside of your thighs. You can feel his breath, hot and ragged, against your skin. You tremble, your body aching with need.

He looks up at you, his eyes meeting yours as he leans in, his tongue sweeping out to taste you. You gasp, your eyes fluttering closed, your head falling back. He groans, the taste of you driving him mad. He licks and sucks, his tongue delving into you, tasting every inch of you.

You’re so wet, so ready, and he can’t get enough. He slips a finger inside you, then another, his tongue never stopping its relentless assault on your clit. You’re panting, your hips moving in time with his fingers, your body tightening around him.

“Hiccup, more,” you beg, your voice breathless, desperate. “Please, more.”

He grins against you, his fingers moving faster, his tongue licking harder. You cry out, your body convulsing as your orgasm hits you. He drinks it down, his tongue licking up every drop of your pleasure. He looks up at you, his chin glistening, his eyes wild. You meet his gaze—his eyes wide, unguarded and covered in lust—and in that moment, something clicks into place.

Your chest rises and falls with each breath, lips parted, skin tingling with the closeness of him. And you know. Something fundamental has shifted, fragile tension giving way to something inevitable. All those days spent circling each other, trading glances and half-measures, have led to this. There’s no going back now—not with the way he’s looking at you like you’re everything.

Hiccup crawls up your body, his lips finding yours. You can taste yourself on him, and it drives you wild. He kisses you deeply, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, claiming you, possessing you. You moan as his hips grinding against yours, his cock hard and insistent against your thigh. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him into you. He can feel his control slip. He’s trembling, his body shaking with the effort of holding back.

“Fuck me,” you whisper, your voice soft, your eyes pleading. “Please, Hiccup. Fuck me.”

Hiccup doesn’t need to be told twice.

He shifts, his hips moving between your thighs. He can feel your heat, your wetness, and it’s torture. He needs to be inside you. He needs to feel you around him, to hear your cries, to feel your body shudder with pleasure. Without any hesitation, he thrusts forward, sliding into you inch by inch.

A sound tears from both your throats the moment he pushes into you—half-gasp, half-groan—raw and unfiltered. The stretch of him is intense, nearly too much, but it’s exactly what you craved. He fills you completely, thick and hard, fitting like he was made for this. For you. His body still trembles with restraint, his fingers digging into your hips like he needs to anchor himself or risk shattering entirely.

He pulls back, slow, torturous—and then drives back in, harder this time. The cot creaks beneath you, the force of his body slamming into yours echoing through the quiet hut. Each thrust is desperate, like he’s trying to etch himself into your very bones. You rise to meet him, instinctive, your hips tilting to take him deeper. The friction is exquisite, your bodies slick with sweat, the air thick with heat and breathless gasps.

Your fingers claw at his back, and he moans—deep, guttural—like the feeling of you under him is too much to bear. His forehead presses to yours, his breath coming in ragged pants, every exhale ghosting over your lips. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs, voice cracked and reverent, like it’s a truth carved into his soul. “You’re mine.”

His pace stutters as you clench around him, and his hand slips between your bodies, desperate to pull you over the edge with him. His thumb circles, trembling, and your cry cuts through the room like lightning. His own release is barreling toward him, his rhythm faltering, hips jerking—each thrust more frantic, more erratic, until all that’s left is heat and want and the sharp, aching need to fall with you.

You’re both spiraling now, tangled together in a frenzy of motion and sound and breath. Every nerve in your body screams, tuned to him. To the way he gasps your name. To the way his hands hold you like a man clinging to the only thing keeping him alive.

And gods, you’re both so close.

He withdraws with a sharp gasp, only to grasp your waist and guide you onto your hands and knees, his touch urgent but careful—like he’s trying not to break you even as he falls apart himself. The shift in position sends a thrill through your body, anticipation coiling hot and heavy in your stomach.

Then you glance back at him—your cheek flushed, lips parted, eyes locking with his—and what you see there nearly steals the air from your lungs.

Hiccup’s gaze burns.

There’s nothing held back now. No softness. No fear. Only hunger. A raw, unrestrained need that’s been simmering beneath the surface for weeks—boiling over now with primal force. He looks at you like a man starved, like he’s waited too long to taste something he was never supposed to have.

And now that he has it, he’s never letting go.

He thrusts into you again, hard, deep, and the sound you make rips through him like a blade. His hands find your hips, fingers digging into your skin like he needs to brand you with his touch. Each snap of his hips drives him deeper, the force of it jolting through you, sending the cot creaking beneath the two of you in a relentless rhythm.

You brace yourself, crying out with every motion—every ragged stroke of his body against yours. He leans over you, one hand sliding up your spine, his chest flush to your back as his mouth finds your shoulder, your neck, your ear.

“You feel—gods—you feel so good,” he groans, voice thick and broken, like he’s unraveling. “Like you were made for me. Only me.”

His words aren’t just lust—they’re possession, devotion, obsession—all twisted into one searing breath against your skin.

The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoes in the tiny hut, wet and rhythmic, mingling with your gasps and his groans. It’s a symphony of need and surrender, primal and carnal, but underneath it all is something terrifyingly tender. Something worshipful.

He’s not just claiming your body.

He’s claiming everything.

“Harder,” you beg, your voice breathless, desperate. “Please, harder.”

He obliges, his hips slamming into yours, his cock hitting that spot deep inside you that makes you see stars. You’re panting, your body trembling, your orgasm building, coiling tight in your belly.

“Come for me,” Hiccup growls, his voice harsh, his body shaking. “Come for me, my love.”

And you do. Your body convulses, your back arching, your head thrown back. You cry out, his name a desperate, pleading sound on your lips. And it undoes him. He thrusts once more, his body shuddering, his release tearing through him. You feel his seed flood into you as he collapses onto you, his body shaking, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

You can feel his heartbeat, his breath, his body against yours, and it’s perfect. It’s everything. He rolls to the side, pulling you with him, his arms wrapping around you. You can feel your heartbeat, your body still trembling. He presses kisses to your forehead, your temple, your cheek. He can’t stop touching you, kissing you, holding you. He never wants to let you go.

You’re his.

His precious traveller from the South.

You are his love, his everything. And Hiccup would do anything to keep you beside him.

Anything.

As his hand drifts tenderly over your stomach, possessive and reverent, a smile curls on his lips—soft, secretive, and utterly unshakable.

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Tags: @cup1der0s

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#minors dni #httyd #male yandere #obsessive love #yandere hiccup x reader #yandere hiccup #dark romance #spicy romance

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evolutionsvoid · 7 months ago

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While the medicine and magic of these lands provides incredible healing abilities, there are some injuries or diseases that cannot be banished with a simple dose of Phlegm. Even if it isn't a grievous wound or rare sickness, it all depends on how far you are away from a healer, and if medicine is even in stock. Folk out in the wilds do not have the luxury of living near healing churches and temples overflowing with blessings. If the nearest healer isn't close enough, or if the traveling Apothecaries have wandered out of the area, certain blights have to be dealt with the old fashioned way.

Sometimes the loss of a limb through injury is permanent, lacking the time and resources to reattach it. And other times infection or sickness calls for amputation, as the appendage is too far gone to save. Even when there is no sickness or danger around, sometimes fate can mess with one right from the beginning. Births with defects do occur, and there is no geluchart blood that can reattach limbs that never existed. While the loss of a limb can be traumatic, advances in the understanding of humors and bonework has created ways to fill this void. If the old limb cannot be reattached, then there is the option to build a new one.

Bone-bile prosthetics came to be during the march towards fully functional constructs. As folk meddled with Black Bile and getting it to control ivory joints, the applications became obvious. Since man has a source of Black Bile within, there was fuel to power these limbs. And since the humor is tied to knowledge and memories, encoding it with the recollection of lost limbs or just simple actions allowed these appendages to mimic the real thing. While many worked to figure out the perfect linking of man and artificial limb, it was said that the Academy of Veritas Mundus was the first to make the breakthrough. The Church of Divine Wealth claims that such prosthetics had been first made by them decades ago, with the golden Ichor limbs blessed upon saints and the divine, though one could argue that these were never an option for the common man. Like the constructs that came after, advancements and understanding found ways to make these limbs cheaper and more available to the public, ensuring that everyone could have a full set of functioning appendages if they wished.

It should be said that while these prosthetics can be crafted and provided in a reasonable way, obviously not all limbs are equal. It depends on the materials available, the craftsmanship at hand and, of course, the complexity involved. While a master could indeed make a fake arm and hand that has the perfect dexterity and precision of the real deal, such a design isn't always feasible for folk. They may make an arm that looks the part, but is slower and more awkward due to its joints and infusions. Some may not have the skill to make a perfect hand, and instead go for the simple hook-like pincer that can still get the job done. Then, of course, one has to factor in the Black Bile requirements for such a construct.

Like the constructs themselves, these prosthesis need Black Bile to function. And while the amount they drain from their user is minute, that can vary a bit by how complex their design is. Limbs with more functioning joints and intricacies calls for more fluid, and thus are more taxing on the body. For wealthier folk or people near ample stores of Black Bile or related foods, this cost can be easily mitigated. Others, however, may not have the supplies to keep up with the limb's demands and thus pay for it in other ways. These prosthetics affect the balance of humors within, obviously sapping away at Black Bile levels. Those who cannot maintain the right balance may experience lightness of the mind and issues with memory if their Black Bile stores get too low. And dipping levels may also mess with the amounts of the other humors, causing other symptoms. Thus, folk who want complex prosthetics need to find a way to get enough Black Bile in their system, or settle for something simpler. Most folk tend to go for the latter option, happy to have a cruder limb rather than no limb at all.

In the early years of their invention, bone-bile prosthetics kept to simple designs, or ones that did their best to match human proportions. However, as time has gone on and more people have dealt with these limbs, creativity and ingenuity has spiced things up a bit. Users of these prosthetics found pride in these new appendages and looked to incorporate them more into their personal fashion. If this prosthetic is truly a part of you now, then surely you would want it to fit with your style. Customization and decoration is very common with long time users, and some folk have decided that the basic human form is too boring for their liking. Prosthetics of stranger designs have sprung up over the years, as folk now see that there is no limit to the creativity. Animal-like legs better designed for running and jumping, tendril-like arms of many joints that allow for incredible range. And sometimes they wind up with more appendages than humanity was born with! Regardless, bone-bile prosthetics have become a solid part of the culture, and a common sight if one were to visit any populous area. Even if the user you see is sporting four tentacle-like arms, most folk don't even blink at it. The human body comes in many shapes and forms, and this is simply another expression amongst an infinite amount of possibilities.

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"Bone-Bile Prosthetics"

If we be making robots- I MEAN constructs out of bone and bile, then of course that means one can make prosthetics out of the same design! Also I am not fully sure why I kept chopping the model's head off. Originally it was meant to save time and space, as I wasn't going to draw the whole body for each model, but then near the end there I straight up drew arms, legs and torso but then still felt adding a head was too much of a bother. So sorry for that, headless shadow mannequin...

#art #drawing #prosthetics #fall of ichor #bone

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crownedinsin · 3 months ago

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The Seven Deadly Sins

The Seven Deadly Sins are Lucifer's chief officers in Hell. They are demons who rule over the seven deadly sins, causing chaos on earth under his command. The Sins operate under Satan’s rule as extensions of his will, they have an intricate understanding and can communicate telepathically with him. Together, they form a dark symphony, with Satan conducting their chaos to further his rebellion against divine order.

𝕻𝖗𝖎𝖉𝖊:

Lucifer is the cautionary tale in hubris, meaning that Pride is his favourite demon. Modelled after him, she mimics his fashion sense and mannerisms. She's quick to whisper in his ear and generally views herself as being above other demons. She can enhance self-perception, manipulate appearances and inspire blind ambition.

faceclaim: cate blanchett pronouns: she/they

𝕷𝖚𝖘𝖙:

Lust deals in seduction and his charisma is as dangerous as it is irresistible. They thrive on desire, manipulating mortals through their deepest passions and forbidden cravings. Often appearing in a form tailored to their victim's desires, their allure hides a cold, calculating nature. Master of charm and illusion, capable of influencing emotions and desires.

faceclaim: varies greatly depending on who they're trying to seduce pronouns: he/they/she

𝖂𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖍:

Wrath is a fiery, imposing figure whose rage is both destructive and magnetic. Her presence ignites conflict and war, driving mortals to acts of violence and vengeance. She has a burning intensity that can rile people up with a mere glance. People know they should fear her but can't help but be drawn towards her. She can incite fury, enhance physical strength, master any weapon or fighting style and can summon flames of destruction.

faceclaim: jodie comer pronouns: she/her

𝕲𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖉:

Greed is a hoarder of wealth and power. He tempts mortals with promises of prosperity, always ensuring they pay a greater price. His gaunt, skeletal appearance contrasts with his obsession with material gain. He is obsessive and ruthless, can sense hidden treasures, corrupt through greed, and conjure wealth to lure victims.

faceclaim: cillian murphy pronouns: he/they

𝕰𝖓𝖛𝖞:

Envy's presence brings jealousy and discontent. She whispers doubts and comparisons, sowing resentment in the hearts of mortals. Her eyes are green with stolen envy and she can shape-shift to reflect others' desires, create illusions of what could be, and amplify feelings of inadequacy.

faceclaim: jodie turner-smith pronouns: she/they

𝕲𝖑𝖚𝖙𝖙𝖔𝖓𝖞:

Gluttony's insatiable hunger knows no bounds. He feeds on excess, pushing mortals to overindulge to their ruin. He wields a sharp intellect that is used to exploit human weaknesses. He can create illusions of abundance, summon endless cravings, and rot anything he touches.

faceclaim: mads mikkelsen pronouns: he/him

𝕾𝖑𝖔𝖙𝖍:

Sloth is a languid figure, often reclining or asleep, exuding an aura of apathy. She whispers to mortals, encouraging them to abandon ambition and succumb to laziness. Their bored, uncaring demeanour masks their cleverness in weaving excuses and procrastination. Sloth can sap energy, induce lethargy, and manipulate time to trap victims in endless delays.

faceclaim: aubrey plaza pronouns: she/they

these muses can be requested for starters or inbox memes ❤️

#;headcanon #;seven deadly sins

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novankenn · 2 years ago

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"Jaune Gets A Gun AU - Day 3" the Master Chief (Halo) - PT 1

Inspired by @howlingday's RU-JA-GUN-CON

(Yes, this one is WAY LONG overdue. My apologies)

Jaune: Can you guys put me... DOWN!

Ruby: Not until you give us your Arc's word...

Pyrrha: ... that you won't enlist in any more foreign militaries.

Jaune: Tina, Jinx... help me out...

Jinx: Nope.

Tiny Tina: I'm with the other girls on this one. Let's face it Baby-J your house husband material...

Emerald: I don't even really know you, and I agree with them.

Jaune: Wow, thanks for the votes of confidence, guys. Makes me really feel good deep down inside to find out... NONE of you have any faith in me!

Pyrrha: I have complete faith in you, Jaune. It's just that fighting a war is very different from defending civilians from grimm.

Ruby: You can totally be a bad-butt huntsman! I know it!

Jinx: I'm just going to let my husband-to-be, get himself killed. End of story.

Tiny Tina: J-Baby, people are always telling me I'm insane, and I don't see it, but that's besides the point... what was I going on about?

Emerald: To be honest (blushes) I just want to be smothered in your cleavage... do you think...

Pyrrha: Neither the time nor place.

Tiny Tina: Jeez, thirsty much?

Jinx: I could go for...

Ruby: This is a FILTH free-zone! There are children present.

Jaune: Um... can I get down now? I mean, we are almost at the food court. I wonder if that guy needs some help?

Pyrrha: What guy?

Jaune: Over there. The armoured guy talking to the blue woman on his wrist.

????: Cortana are you sure he's here?

Cortana: John, I am certain. He and those counterfeit weapons are somewhere around here.

John-117: You think you can narrow it down any further?

Cortana: I can try, but the digital infrastructure here is rather lacklustre and primitive.

John-117: Well, keep trying.

The girls set Jaune down, and he instantly walked over towards the armoured figure.

Jaune: Hello.

John-117: Hello. Can I help you?

Jaune: You seem like you could use some help. Is there anything I can do for you?

Cortana: John, he could know something or at least be able to narrow the search area.

John-117: Maybe you can. I'm looking for a very specific vendor, maybe you've seen him?

Jaune: Well, there are a lot of Vendors here. Can you be a little more specific?

John-117: Average height, bald, looks like a robot. Talks in a rather rambling or distracted manner?

The girls collected behind Jaune, each a little on edge, and worried that Jaune was going to get himself drafted or do something waifu-y again.

Jaune: Sounds familiar... (Snaps his fingers as something jumps into his thought process) I know him! He's the one selling all the cool rabbit themed weapons!

John-117: What now? Rabbit themed?

Jaune: Why are you looking for him? I mean, just by looking at you, you seem pretty well outfitted. I can understand wanting more gear, but...

Cortana: We believe he's selling counterfeit USMC weapons.

Ruby: How do you counterfeit a gun?

Cortana: We've been told that they are unlicensed and lower quality than the standard issue arms of the USMC.

Hearing "Standard Issue" had all the girls close in on Jaune, protectively.

Pyrrha: You said "counterfeit" guns. Like what?

John-117: This...

Ruby/Tiny Tina: IS that a BR55?

Cortana: It is. Are you familiar?

Ruby/Tiny Tina: Bullpup design with three fire modes. Semi, burst and full-auto. Most often used with the last two options. Overall length 89.9 centimetres, 36 round box magazine chambering 9.5x40mm M634 HP-SAP...

Everyone else in the group just blinks as their eyes start to glaze over...

John-117: You two know your stuff. This is the other weapon we believe he is selling...

Ruby/Tiny Tina: A M6G Magnum!

Emerald: Please make them stop.

Jaune: (Cutting in before Tiny Tina and Ruby could start rambling off statistics) I think we can help you. If it is the same guy I think, his name is Banshee-44 and he WAS near the main entrance yesterday.

(Somewhere with in the Convention... not near the main entrance...)

Bashee-44: Huh? Someone is talking about me... I think? Maybe? Doesn't matter... I have work to do.

#rwby #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #ruby rose #tiny tina #emerald sustrai #jinx #halo #master chief #Cortana #jaune gets a gun au #destiny 2 #banshee 44

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24karatcherrygold · 6 months ago

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Log Entry Leith de Aurum, Master Engineer and Researcher Skylanders Academy Laboratory Cycle 5471, Day 189

"Subject: Traptanium Weaponry and Its Impact on Power Depletion

The more I delve into Traptanium’s mysteries, the more I find myself in awe—and, admittedly, unsettled—by its capabilities. Today’s focus was on a particularly potent property of Traptanium weaponry: its ability to erode the magical and physical power of those struck. To aid my research, I enlisted the reluctant help of Nana Crie’Cai, a formidable centaur warrior and master of the Traptanium-tipped lance she wields with unmatched precision.

Observations on Power Erosion

The phenomenon of power erosion appears unique to Traptanium weaponry, distinct from the blunt force or physical damage caused by conventional arms. When Nana demonstrated her lance in a controlled environment, the following effects were noted:

Immediate Impact: When her lance struck a magical construct (a training dummy imbued with elemental energy), the energy began to dissipate almost instantly. Unlike typical disruption spells, which scatter or repel magic, the Traptanium seemed to consume the energy, leaving the construct visibly weaker.

Lingering Weakness: Targets struck by Traptanium weaponry show signs of sustained debilitation. In sparring exercises with other Skylanders (all carefully supervised, of course), Nana’s strikes caused her opponents to feel sluggish and unable to summon their full strength. Even Spyro, in a brief demonstration, described the sensation as “like trying to ignite a fire with no tinder.”

Numbing Effect: Nana noted that, during battle, her lance disrupts not only a foe’s magical reserves but also their connection to their abilities. One subject described feeling an unnatural numbness in the moments after being struck, as though the part of themselves tied to their powers had temporarily gone dormant.

Analysis: This property stems from Traptanium’s inherent nature as a conduit for containing and manipulating energy. When used as a weapon, the material interacts with a target’s magical and elemental essence, not only interrupting the flow of power but actively drawing it away. This could explain why individuals tethered to Traptanium containment crystals experience numbness and a diminished sense of self when they stray too far.

Trap Masters and Their Specialization

Through... stressful conversations with Nana, I gained insight into why the Trap Masters are uniquely suited to wielding Traptanium weaponry.

Control and Discipline: The use of Traptanium weapons requires immense precision. A careless strike could sap more power than intended, potentially leaving a target or environment irreparably damaged. Trap Masters undergo rigorous training to master the balance between drawing power from a foe and avoiding collateral harm.

Innate Resilience: Trap Masters often have an unusually strong connection to their own elemental cores, which shields them from Traptanium’s side effects. Nana explained that when she first trained with her lance, she felt the weapon “testing” her—a tugging at her own essence that only subsided once she established a balance with the material.

Strategic Advantage: Traptanium weapons are not designed for brute force. Instead, they emphasize disruption and control, weakening opponents to the point where their abilities are rendered ineffective. This approach aligns with the Trap Masters’ philosophy: to neutralize threats efficiently without unnecessary destruction.

Applications in Combat

The power-eroding properties of Traptanium weaponry make it invaluable in specific scenarios:

Neutralizing High-Power Threats: Traptanium weapons can disarm powerful enemies, reducing their ability to fight back. Nana’s lance, for example, has been used to weaken large foes before her allies move in to subdue them.

Energy Drain and Containment: By drawing power away from their targets, Trap Masters can effectively disable magical constructs or prevent reinforcements from materializing in battle.

Battlefield Control: The lingering weakness caused by Traptanium strikes forces opponents to fight at a disadvantage, creating opportunities for strategic maneuvers.

Challenges and Ethical Considerations

While the potential of Traptanium weaponry is undeniable, its use raises ethical concerns:

Risk of Overuse: Prolonged exposure to Traptanium strikes can leave lasting damage to an individual’s magical core. Nana has been forbidden from using her lance in training exercises to avoid this issue (though she whines about it constantly).

Dependency on Trap Masters: The specialized nature of these weapons means their use is limited to a select few. This creates a reliance on the Trap Masters that could be problematic in prolonged conflicts.

Psychological Toll: The numbing sensation and temporary loss of power caused by Traptanium strikes can be deeply unsettling, even for seasoned warriors. Spyro himself noted that such experiences can “shake your confidence in ways you don’t expect."

Closing Thoughts: Traptanium weaponry represents a double-edged sword, capable of disarming the most formidable foes but also fraught with risks. The Trap Masters’ discipline and expertise ensure these weapons are wielded responsibly, but their rarity underscores how dangerous Traptanium can be in the wrong hands. Nana’s insights - though blunt - have deepened my understanding, but I suspect I’ve only begun to scratch the surface of what this extraordinary material can do."

End Log.

#ao3 #fanfic #skylanders #fanfiction #fanfic writing #headcanon

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valentinablackhand · 1 year ago

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So hey I finally finished that story, I hope people enjoy it. Be mindful that I am NOT a writer but I'm proud of this story. THIS CONTENT IS MATURE, CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, DEATH, CHILD LOSS, AND GORE

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　 ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Background information on the future reading material

Hello! This is going to be some background on why I’m writing this, what inspired me, and how this is going to be portrayed. For starters, this is going to be a sort of fan fiction/character origin story prior to the events of Baldur’s Gate 3, a game inspired by D&D with roleplaying aspects and turn-based fighting. The character I am writing about is Theresa “Onyx'' Blackhand. Onyx hails from the colder northern region, Icewind Dale. She lived in a small rural area called Aneira with her adoptive brother, Tanith, and her mother, Eulalie. The year is 1490, two years before the events of Baulder’s Gate 3, and it is set in the height of winter, a rather awful blizzard is running its course through the town and our adventurer is going to see the apex of nature's wrath. This story is going to be told in the eyes of our main character, of course.

Some background on me, the writer (who isn’t the best at writing). My name is Ava but I go by Valentina online and I am an artist and dungeon master! D&D has inspired a lot of what I do and the media/games I play, and in general, has changed my life for the betterment of my creativity. The Baldur’s Gate community has given me so many amazing artists, writers, and players to be inspired by, not to mention the writers and actors who are in the game itself. I wouldn’t be where I am today without the inspiration of others, friends, and partners who encouraged me to pursue my passions of the fantasy and D&D worlds I’ve created. This is a test and dedication to the many more worlds, characters, and friends I’ll make along the way through shared interests. I thank you, dear reader, for taking the time to read my rambling and indulge in one of my favorite characters I have come up with, background, gameplay, and story wise.

Winter, 1490; A Warm Welcome

Howling, freezing wind cuts through me like a blade, cutting right through the layers of wool and hide I wear out in this tundra. My face is burning, hair covered in a thick coating of ice, sticking to my scalp and face like tree sap.

“Is this the clearing Tanith was talking about? This is awfully deep in these woods…” I said to myself, wondering how he could navigate through this storm. This winter has been worse than in seventy years, he shouldn’t be outside now anyways. Mother is getting worried sick about him. This is the third time this week I’ve had to dig him out of trouble, little wriggly worm he is. “Tanith? Tanith! Where are you? It’s too late to be outside, the storm gets worse at night!” I yelled out into the clearing, but my words were quickly snuffed out by the wind once again. Just as I was about to give up and find help, torch light shines through the clearing, Tanith standing there with that slimy grin on his face.

“I knew you would find me! Now c’mon, there’s something I want to show you!” he shouts as he darts off into the tundra again. I chase after him despite my skeleton shaking in this cold. Why is winter so brutal this year? Mother and Tanith have been acting strangely as of late. My heart is racing, where is he leading me? We finally stop running as we reach the top of a cliff, surprisingly high above the city below. The lights are mesmerizing, staring down into the flurry of snow and ice almost seems magical beneath the tons of houses and factories brimming with life.

“You know, I’m glad you dragged me out here. This is a wonderful sight to see” saying as I grab him into a side hug, holding him tightly for warmth and security.

“You really need to stop going out at odd hours of the night, Mother is getting worried sick about your habits as of late”

“I know she is but I’m restless! Being inside all day is no fun, and I can’t see friends through all of this snow! I can’t wait for winter to end” Tanith says in an unhappy huff, burying his face into my coat. There’s a certain unease in the air tonight when the wind stops blowing, it slowly wraps my heart in black tendrils and brings sweat to my brow.

“I know, I can’t either. Say, how about we go back home now? There’s still some sweet rolls left over.”

“There are? You didn’t eat them all?”

“Not yet!” I say, darting off in the direction we came, Tanith close behind. He passes me in just a few strides, the speedy bastard. He has always been fast, no matter if he’s carrying heavy wood or our mountain of a dog. We finally reach the back door of our cabin and burst in, letting out a sigh of relief as we feel the warmth of the fire seeping throughout the house. Mother is sitting by the fire, we startled her by bursting into the door unannounced.

“There you two are, I was getting worried sick! You look positively dreadful Theresa, sit by the fire.” Mother says, wrapping a wool shawl over my shoulders and gesturing towards the large wooden chair. Tanith joins me shortly, bringing a tray of sweet rolls with him. His eyes are glistening but something is missing, his usual spark of joy is no longer there. There’s something he isn’t telling me.

A dreadful proposal

We all retired for the night but I can’t sleep, my head is spinning and my heart is racing. Were the sweet rolls bad? Was I out in the cold too long? I can’t be sure, but time is at a standstill and I am tossing like mad. Minutes felt like hours but before I knew it, our front door swung open. Mother and Tanith weren’t awake, so it must have been the wind. I got up in a dizzying state and stumbled out of my room to close the door when I saw this man standing in the door frame, almost filling it out, the light from the fire making his features positively grim. His stature was sunken although he was built to the nines, his face looked like a husk of a man, his arms, big and dead, like a once mighty oak tree taken by rot and decay. Is this man undead?

He stood in pure silence as he took a step into my home, halfway to me already with his long stride, and stopped mere inches from me. I can see the whites of his eyes, or what would be white if they weren’t bloodshot and glassy. Finally seeing his face in the light, he was covered in blood. I tried to gain my composure quickly and grab something, anything, to hit him with, but he grabbed me by the shoulders and knocked me out cold. The next few hours I would fade in and out of consciousness, seeing snow pass underneath me, then cobble, finally back to snow. I have no idea where I’m going. I’m worried about my family. What has he done to them? Are they even alive? My head is pulsing with pain and heat, a roaring heat as if I were in the depths of Avernus. We were going uphill on rocky terrain, the dense wood of a carriage underneath me hits my bones with each bump like stone.

After almost a day had passed, I awoke in a chair, bound at my wrists and my ankles tied to each leg. Why am I receiving this punishment? Did I see something I wasn’t supposed to see looking over that cliff? I let the memory flood my mind and I couldn’t see anything but snow blowing across my vision and the twinkling of the lanterns below. Looking around the room, it’s more like a cell. A singular bed roll laid in a dark corner, a wash basin, and an old door, about to fall off its hinges if it took a single blow. The air is rather humid, thick with the smell of iron and wet stone. I look at my restraints and they seem simple to break out of, too simple, in fact. Just as I try to move towards a wall, someone walks into the cell. It’s the same man as before, but now I can see his face. Dirty brown hair, gray eyes that hold no glint of light in them, and a rather large nose, badly patched up after a break. His face screams a hard, tortured life.

Before I know it, he strides over and unties my restraints, grabs my arm tightly, and makes me stand. I tried to land a blow with my other arm, but he grabbed my fist in an instant.

“Who are you?! What have you done with my family?” I shouted, looking over this shell of a man. His body ached and creaked like an old house, and I can see the outline of his muscle and bone on every part of exposed skin.

“Mustn't talk, the Lord is waiting” he said with a deep voice, almost vibrating the air around him. There was something otherworldly about him. Is this the work of a necromancer? “He needs to see you. Your family is waiting.” he leans in, and whispers ever so softly “I don’t want to have to hurt you again, the Lord is making me hunt others for his game of cat and mouse.” His eyes finally have life to them, wet pearls of sadness and regret. His breath smelled of rot, his hair was as stiff as straw. How many others did he bring to this “Lord” he spoke of? What is going to happen to me?

With my arm still held by this undead husk, we walked a short distance to an audience hall. Decorated lavishly with gold and marble, red carpets, dark wooden chairs and tables, and statues of hardly clothed men and women, all eyeing a chair in the center of the room. I see them, my family, finally after what felt like an eternity. The stranger lets my arm free and I rush over to where they stand, clinging onto both my brother and mother so tight.

“Tanith… Aneira, I never thought I would see you again, where are we?” I glance above Mother’s head and see the snow building up through an unreasonably large window. The day is bright, almost blinding against the snow. I’m in familiar territory, thankfully.

“Theresa I hadn’t a clue where you were! I awoke to such an awful sound when those men came in and grabbed Tanith and I. My heart felt like it was leaping out of my chest. At least we have you now, my love.” she said, tears welling up in her eyes. Just as this sweet moment couldn’t get any better, the double doors at the end of the audience room open, creaking and moaning with every movement.

“Ahh, these are our most esteemed guests then, hm? I was expecting more… hardened looking people for being a family of lumberjacks, afterall. My name is Lord Ransley, it is a pleasure to meet you." The man spoke, confident, dominant, and radiant. He was eyeing me curiously, looking for something within my appearance that I hadn’t a clue what he wanted to see. He carried a tome on his hip, lined in gold and the cover had a yawning mouth with a purple gem shoved into the center. This has to be the necromancer of the house, and apparently the Lord as well. Looking around again, the unseen halves of the statues were all bone and muscle remnants, real muscle and bone. The room stunk of decay and humid bodies. “You are rather extraordinary, you know? A half-elf with such muscle definition, tall stature, and eyes that hold the world within them…” Ransley says again, walking around me like a curious dog, grazing his hand over my biceps and back. I shift away from his touch, feeling a rush of cold go down my spine. He grabs a lock of my hair and shudders, as if he’s enjoying himself, pleasuring himself to my physique.

“What exactly are you looking for in me, your lordship,” I said harshly “and why knock out and kidnap my family, bring them to an unknown house, and gawk at them? Is this for your own sick pleasure?” I spat, locking eyes with this short statured freak.

“Ohh, feisty are we? Fret not, my large friend, I will answer your questions after you answer one of mine. Then you and your family will be able to go back home and live your lives as they were.”

He paces around me, studying my figure until he gets right in front of me and asks “Your father had something of mine that he stole, and gave it to you. That large steel amulet you wear, it belongs to me. I know what power it contains, and I know that you can’t live without it. How does having cold lungs feel, little love? If you give me back that necklace, I may just help you with your affliction, but if not… Well, your family is not going anywhere.” Little Love. The nickname dad gave to me. Hearing the words was like a sharp puncture in my diaphragm.

How does he know about my lungs? I’ve had this affliction ever since I was young, I caught a cold and since then I have had an icy cold breath that can freeze anything it touches. This amulet is the one thing that keeps me able to keep breathing without freezing the world around me. I can’t risk letting this go, even if it is Ransley’s. I have to figure out a way out of this house with my family. Ransley slips a hand to my neck and pulls the necklace out from under my collar, eyeing it lovingly. His breath is hot on my skin as he puts his lips to my ear and whispers “We can accomplish so much together, little love.”

“You want me to give up the thing that makes me able to breathe normally? Do you want your house to be in icy ruin?” I say, my anger rising with each touch and word he says.

“No, my dear, it would be a shame to see my lovely home go down. Are you really not going to give me back my possessions?” he says, taking a stride towards my family “Pity… I thought you would be smarter than this.” He walks up to Tanith, who is as white as snow, and puts a hand under his chin, studying his features.

“If you have a quarrel with me, then keep me here. My family doesn’t need to be a part of this. They never were in the first place.”

Aneira and Tanith are humans, they have lived only a fraction of the life I have lived. They deserve to live their lives to the fullest, I fear that Ransley is planning something drastic.

“Fine, if you will not give me that amulet, I will take it off of your corpse. You will make a fine addition to the many beautiful faces I have in my war room” he says, as he turns away to grab a sword displayed on a plaque behind a large chair. He touches the blade, running his fingers along the edge in ecstacy, as if he’s going to enjoy hurting me. Looking around the room, there are two guards. Easy targets, they aren’t as strong as me and they can barely hold the hammers they’re equipped with I think to myself. How are Aneira and Tanith going to escape? The double doors Ransley had previously pranced through is the only way out. I give each of them a shove. “Aneira, Tanith, run!!” I shout at them, darting for the hammer a guard is equipped with, knocking him on the floor with one shoulder charge. He falls to the floor, the flesh under his armor breaks off in chunks and his bones shatter once they hit the ground. More undead. Turning to face Ransley, he is running towards me, sword pointed towards me. I thrust my hammer and knock his sword off its course, and take a swing at him. I hear bones crack, it hits, by the Gods it hits.

After he gets his footing again, he steadies his gaze towards me, preparing for a swing. I brace and block his first blow, his arm going limp at his side. From his other sleeve, he pulls out a dagger and slices across my shoulder, a deep cut that would take a while to heal. I wince out in pain and his eyes light up like a fire. What a sick, twisted freak. With a one armed swing, I knock the dagger out of his hand and strike another blow quickly with my hammer. Something is welling up in my chest. It’s warm and radiant, I feel strength ebbing out of me.

“Listen to me, Lord, I have no clue why my father stole this amulet from you, but you aren’t getting it back. You threatened my family and my life, you have no right to hurt my family. I will end you swiftly and painfully, for you have no say in my fate!” I say, and as the words roll off my tongue, the hammer I wield is basked in a radiant light. Power. I feel power flowing through me, a divine power. Who granted me this power matters not, at this moment I have my opponent under my grip. Ransley’s arm is limp at his side, he still wields his sword in the other. He lunges at me, swinging his sword from above, I block with the handle of my hammer. Even with one arm, he is still rather strong. Taking a good look at his physique, he himself is partially undead, he has great strength but each blow he takes, he weakens. I fling him off with a side swipe and take a swing at his back, hitting his tailbone and knocking him on the floor. With one hand, I sit him forward and drop my hammer. Taking swings at him, my fists get coated in crimson. His breathing is shallow and slow, I drop him back on the floor with a loud thud and pick up the hammer. My breaths are short and icy, the coldness in my lungs is unbearable. Looking down at Ransley, I broke his nose and jaw pretty good. He won’t be standing up any time soon. His breathing is gargled and mashed, his windpipe must be broken. I need to let him suffer a slow death, choking on his blood and bile until his last breath exits his lips.

After leaving the audience hall and taking a look around, I find Lord Ransley’s room. In my search, I found his personal journal which reads “Barnes stole the Amulet of Curse Binding from me and gave it to his sick, weak daughter. Pathetic. If she is too weak to shake an illness, she is too weak to live. I will find him one way or another, our deal isn’t finished.” Deal? What deal had my father made? Whatever it was, it doesn’t matter now. I don’t suspect that Ransley will recover from a crushed windpipe. Flipping through the journal, another entry catches my attention. “I don’t know how much longer I can stand, my bones are brittle and weak. My flesh is starting to fall off of me. Myrkul needs to hear his servant, to provide his blessing unto me.”I shudder at the thought of being an undead, having no control of the decay of your physical form while you remain conscious sounds like the ninth circle of Avernus. As I put the journal in my pack, that blinding light illuminates my vision again. A woman in white robes, with even whiter hair, stands before me.

“Child of light, I am the spirit Evangeline. You show great power in judgment and vengeance. I have imbued you with the divine power I once had. I propose an oath to you, an Oath of Vengeance, avenge those who have fallen to dark powers and dark people, cast out evil from this world in my name and spirit, oh divine vessel. Your hammer is your oath, and your divine being is my spirit. This is my word.”

She disappeared as soon as the last word was uttered from her mouth. Was this my purpose now? To purge the blights of evil from this world? I bolted out of the room and my head started spinning. I was too enthralled in a fight and forgot where my family had gone. Rushing through the seemingly endless halls of this house, I found more guards and the mysterious man who kidnapped us all waiting for me at the exit, my family lying on the floor. They peered up at me with glossy eyes, pleading for me to go and leave them to the guards. The mystery man tilted his head up and gave me a nod and after, he whips a sword out of his coat and stabs the guard on his left until he collapses to the ground. I take a stride and aim at the next guard rushing towards me, striking true to his jaw. It snaps in an awful, bone chilling sound and he kneels, screaming in blood coated words. With one hand, I take Tanith and the man takes Aneira.

We rush through the doors and the wind chill strikes all of us, a familiar and welcome feeling to that of the house of Ransley. Outside was still bone chilling, but it wasn’t the uneasy feeling inside that overly decorated audience hall.

“Onyx, what happened? Why does he want your amulet? What deal was that man talking about?” Tanith said, giving me a scared look. Something about his gaze is telling, like he knows what’s about to happen.

“I don’t know, but you remember why I wear it, right?”

“Yes, it keeps the cold away from you” he said, his face easing into a soft smile, but his eyes lack any reflection. What in the hells had they done to him in the time I wasn’t there to protect him? To protect Aneira?

I take a look at Aneira and she is as white as a sheet, her eyes fixated on me. I can’t see her breath in the air, is she breathing? I let go of Tanith and grabbed her, shaking her. “Aneira? Aneira! Listen to me! Are you alright, can you hear me?”I screamed, shaking her shoulders. Her eyes are still fixated where I was standing, she’s as cold as a corpse. I look at the undead man, and he looks just the same. Snapping back at Tanith, he is starting to freeze. “Tanith! Please, no! What is happening to everyone?!” I scream, looking back at the door to see a blood stained and cripled Ransley, holding a staff covered in arctic shards. Rage is overflowing again, seeing my family frozen to the ground, my second chance at raising a child has flown out the window. I won’t let him get away with killing what I love.

“You see, Onyx, this is what happens when you don’t give me what I’m rightfully owed!” he screams, waving the staff in a circular motion with his one good arm, bringing in more snow and cold. He is surrounded in an undead green light, the work of the God of Death. I should have broken both arms. I dart out of the blast radius before he unleashes a winter like I’ve never seen. One look back where my family stood and they were gone, frozen to the land they stood on. Aneira, Tanith, and this man who helped me without even knowing who I was. Gone. A rage like no other fills my senses as I take a look at the scrawny man in the doorway, ready to cast another spell. Hammer in hand, I run over screaming and jump, hammer overhead and ready to strike down on his head. As the hit lands, divine light shines and I see the whites of his eyes gleam one last time before his skull is split in two, mashed beyond recognition. I keep whaling on him, beating his skull in until it’s a mashed pile of bone, flesh, and blood.

I fall to the ground, crying so hard that I can’t see. My tears cling to my face as they freeze in this awful weather. How did this all happen so fast? How can I go home now, with so many memories of raising Tanith and aiding Aneira through her remaining years? The remaining hope I had for a family is now gone, frozen, and it hurts like no other pain I’ve felt before. I stare at Ransley’s corpse, wondering how he found me in the first place. The staff he wields even in death, it’s cold to the touch but brimming with the Weave. It’s a very powerful item, and I’m taking it as a reminder. A heirloom of a necromancer, the undead prick who stole my life in one day.

I’m coming home

I stayed at the Ransley estate for two days after the incident, seeking and searching for who he was and why he wanted this Amulet. I found out that Evangeline was his wife, who he murdered for his own sick and twisted pleasure. He logged his thoughts after he pleasured himself to her corpse, but he never turned her into one of his thralls. She was only, what seemed to be, in her early twenties from the pictures I found that weren’t torn to shreds. In the basement of this house was where she was kept, and still remains. Her hair as white as snow and she was dressed in white robes, as I saw her in my divine vision. The ground outside is too hard to dig for a grave, so I fashioned a small circle out of wood and carved a prayer into it. Wrapping her in a burlap cloth and laying her on her back, I placed the prayer on her and took a moment of silence. I did this for those outside as well, since I can’t give them a proper burial yet. These last two days have been rather gruesome and depressing, but I need to press on. I need to go home and set out on the quest Evangeline gave me to purge the world of evil.

I take what rations of food I can find, some clothing and furs as well, and set off back to the cabin. Surprisingly, it wasn’t too far away from this estate. I didn’t even need to make camp and I made it back by dusk. The door was still swung open from when the undead man opened it last, the common area full of snow. My mind still wanders, what was it that Tanith was hiding? Throughout the whole ordeal, he was a husk of his normal, happy self. I may never know now, now that Ransley and his guards took away that young boy who I almost considered my son. My son? He might as well have been, I was there from the moment he emerged into this world from his late mother, who I never learned of other than when she was in labor with him. Aneira, the lady of this cabin, a seamstress who took care of me when I had no place to go after father died, is a frozen corpse. She took me in and treated me like one of her own, even though her own had already gone and made lives for themselves. Oh gods, if I ever run into them, how can I tell them of her fate?

I shut the door, its hinges almost froze over in my absence. Heading to the upper portion of the cabin, I feel that grip in my chest that I felt before. This isn’t some bad dream where I’ll wake up and they will be downstairs, making a fire and telling stories. I peer into my old room, everything is just as I left it. The furs along my bed still shifted off, the small shelf filled with books and trinkets I collected out in the dense forest. I grab a few sentimental belongings, books, and more furs and stuff them into my pack. Was this the only reason I had come here? I walked my way over to Tanith’s room, his room is in pristine condition. He had always been very neat, so it’s no surprise to me. His clothes are in a neat pile on a dresser, so small. He was barely twelve years old. I searched his room, trying to keep things as they were when he left them. I found a note stashed away in a book on dreams and premonitions. When had he gotten this? He usually only read memoirs on nature and animals, he wasn’t spiritual. Well, at least I thought so. I unfold the note and it’s addressed to me. Me? How? I begin reading his sloppy handwriting, and I get my answer. He knew how he was going to end, Aneira, too. He knew I would have been given the gifts of a Paladin from Evangeline. He wrote an excerpt on how this amulet protects me from cold spells, curses of the winter, and the inability to slip on icy surfaces. “I don’t understand how, but the amulet that you wear is filled with magic from a lady with white hair who keeps me safe at night. She isn’t a goddess or a human, something in between? I think so. Well, Barnes had stolen the amulet from someone named Ransley when he found the lady with white hair stowed away in the basement. The amulet has some of her power stored in it and whoever wears it will have their sickness or weaknesses taken away. There was someone who took care of her, a tall man named Marcus. She doesn’t talk about him much, but he has gray eyes. If you’re worried about me, I’ll be with Evangeline, so I’ll still be around! I love you, Mom”

Mom. He called me mom. Fighting tears isn’t possible anymore, they stream down my face as I clutch the note in my hand. This amulet has been imbued with the power of a demigod, Evangeline. She was a demigod? Ransley had kidnapped her and made her his wife. The undead man finally has a name, Marcus. I wish I had known this sooner, or else I would have carved that into his prayer. Tanith had been visited by Evangeline many nights before we had been taken away, he told her about the events that unfolded two days ago, and that he wasn’t going to make it. No wonder he hadn’t been himself, he knew his time had come. Marcus had been a caretaker to Evangeline, and that’s why she was locked away until she perished. He had also stood up to Ransley and failed, he got turned into his own personal thrall. Ransley’s staff has the power to dominate minds in a simple flick of the wrist. I wish I had known sooner, I wish I had known what Tanith was told. I could have turned the tides in our favor, maybe even saved everyone and just killed Ransley. He was never deserving of the title of Lord anyhow, he had servants through mind control and a very strong essence of undead power through Myrkul.

I fold the letter closed and clutch it to my chest, trying to stifle back more tears. Things could have been different if I had been awake earlier, if I had heard Aneira and Tanith walk downstairs to investigate the noises of Marcus breaking in. All of his life, I told him I was his sister. I never wanted to form an attachment like I did to my child, although she never lived long enough to see the light of day. It seems that him and I both grew that attachment towards each other, but reading “mom” at the end of that letter let's me know that I did my best for him. What’s done is done now, I can no longer regret the past. I set down the book, and turn away from his room. Walking outside again after grabbing materials and rations, I take one last look at the cabin door, pressing my hand onto the jagged wood. As my fingertips leave the wood, I turn and make my way to Baldur’s Gate city. Neverwinter is closer, but there’s more promise for me in the great gate. This is it, this is my destiny. This is the thing I had been longing for my whole life. A purpose with true direction, no longer am I just riding the waves of fate.

Five months later

I’ve made it to Rivington, a small area just outside of the Lower City. I finally made it out of the cold and harsh winter I used to live in. The warmth of this area is unfamiliar, the many layers I wear are beginning to be too warm. I have to figure out a place to stay.

After venturing a bit outside of Rivington, I found an abandoned shed. I set my pack down and make preparations for the night, which rolls in quickly. There’s a ladder propped up on the side of the shed and I climb up it. The stars shine bright tonight. Taking a look around, I spot the area of the cursed Shadow Lands, which fell to be that way over one hundred years ago. It gives me chills to even think of what lies in the depths of those lands. Turning away, I lay down on the roof of the shed and drift off to sleep. The city is just ahead, all I have to do is make my way there before I have no strength to do so. I can start anew, a new life and a new purpose. May my dreams take me to where I belong.

Dawn is slow to come, the sunrise coats the land in a lush light. The green of the grass, the smell of fresh bread and fried fish is in the air already. I make my way to the pass into the Lower City and get a pass through the Flaming Fist guards, giant mechanical beings called Steel Watchers patrol the gate and surrounding streets. Everywhere is very heavily guarded, something I’m really not used to seeing. The loudness of people talking, merchants shouting, and businesses bustling with music and conversation alike was almost too overwhelming. Shifting through crowds and guards, I make my way into Wyrm’s Crossing’s tower. A man named Lord Enver Gortash resides in the upper levels apparently. The word “Lord” still doesn’t sit right with me.

After many hours of talking and bartering with guards, I gained a pass into the Lower City where I am appointed as a body to the courthouse judges during trials. Court hearings vary in length, but by night I try to catch criminals and assassins who stalk the streets, waiting for someone unarmed to strike at. I interrogated one of the assassins I captured and found out he was an assassin of Bhaal before I sent him into a coma and threw him into the sewer. There’s a Bhaal cult around here? If so, I will do my best to inform the Flaming Fists and the city watch alike. Over the next few months, I was a personal bodyguard to the courthouse during the day, gaining my own personal set of armor and a hammer with the symbol I chose for Evangeline, whose presence I can still feel around me like a warm hug. I am adorned with silver and black plate armor, paired with chainmail underneath. During my time in the Lower City, my heartache to be in nature grew. I missed the vast lushness of trees, seeing a pair of white foxes chase each other in the snow and pounce at one another. Finding a remote spot in the forest in spring time and taking a short swim in a lake nearby the cabin, the warm breeze flowing through my hair. The city lacked any sort of bucolic surroundings, maybe a bush here and there. It felt like a cage, but with open air and no bars. After some time, I was able to afford my own place. A small apartment near the courthouse, where I raised plants and kept small creatures who would wander into my home. I may just like this life I have, even if I don’t have what I once cherished. Something inside of me is saying that this is only the beginning of a long journey ahead.

A year from now

Things were as good as ever, a decent week at court thankfully and I found a new cat to take care of, who I named Apricot since she was the same color as one. I was cooking her a fish when I heard citizens screaming, and the thunderous roar of something in the sky. I rushed out of my balcony door to see a giant ship with tentacles and a shell hovering over the city. What in the gods name is this? I thought to myself. I put Apricot in a safe space under my bed and threw on my armor. I gave her some pets goodbye and ran out of my apartment. I was directing citizens to a safe house when another one of those living ships appeared right above the street I was standing on. The tentacles rained down and anyone who had been touched by them evaporated into them. I had to get more out of here, I had to save more citizens from an untimely death.

Just as the thought flew into my mind, I felt the slimy touch of the tentacle across my mouth. I blinked and I was on the ship. I had to be. So were so many Baldur’s Gate citizens. A strange looking woman with green skin was trying to break out of her binds when a large tentacled freak held up its hand and put her to sleep. Mind flayers. By the Gods, a mind flayer ship? I had only heard of them in books and tall tales, I had no idea they were actually real. The mind flayer levitated towards me and held out his hand, I had gone unconscious. In my dreams, I saw my old fireplace, crackling and filling the living room with warmth. Tanith and Aneira, sitting in their chairs, beckoning me to sit by the fire. I couldn’t move, I had no control over my body. As the sweet moment filled my senses, it quickly faded away. The room imploded and snow and ice shards swirled around the two people I adored. I tried to scream, but no sound came out of my aching lungs, only more ice and snow. I snapped my head upward to see Ransley’s face looming over me, his smug smile decaying like the rest of his features. His eyes pierced right through me, as if he was trying to intimidate my soul.

As soon as I was put to sleep, I was awake. Days had passed. No, weeks? I couldn’t tell. My stomach ached, I needed to eat, I was in a cold sweat. I looked around with what little room I had, the strange woman was still asleep in her pod across from me. The same mind flayer from before was looming over a large, fleshy basin full of an acidic smelling liquid. He pulled a worm-like thing from the basin and levitated over to the strange woman, holding his hand out so she would stare directly at the worm. It latched onto her face and snuck right into her eyeball. Oh Gods, is he going to put one in me next? Just as the thought occurs, he is back to fishing out another worm. Or maybe they were tadpoles? He picks out another one and locks eyes with me, its eyes orange and radiating malice. As he is floating towards me, I try to turn my head away, only to have it snap into place with the flick of its wrist. The tadpole screeched with a psionic power that hurt the innermost parts of my mind, and secured itself into my orbital socket. I slip into unconsciousness again. My new life, taken from me once again. Who was going to take care of Apricot? Who is going to keep the streets safe at night? I need to figure out how to get off this ship and go back to Baldur’s Gate.

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carbohs-region · 1 year ago

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Dripanosap, the Sappy Slinger Pokémon!

Type: Grass/Normal

Evolves from Chamelike

Having been fully arboreal, Dripanosaps were masters of using the materials at their disposal. Cutting into tree bark with their enlarged tail claw, Dripanosaps would tap the sap out of trees and store it in their back fan for safekeeping. If a Pokémon attacks a Dripanosap, it can expect a wad of hardening amber in the face, launched at high speed with its tail.

#pokemon #fakemon #carbohs #natural history #paleontology #paleoblr #paleoart #evolution #drepanosaur

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ipsen · 2 years ago

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Blank Canvas 15

Read on AO3. Words: 4251 Summary: Cochlea again. The board begins to reveal itself. Chapter 14 Chapter 16 Master Post

Haise left his and Hide’s apartment at midnight.

“None of these people worked in the Washuu Task Force. Like they were off-limits or something.”

He exited the final train from the 12th ward to the 23rd, taking a deep breath to psyche himself up.

“And each irregular victim… opposed the Washuu family in some way.”

He wrung his hands as he navigated the dark alley once again. Nothing happened, but the fear of the unknown clung to his brain like a tumor, whispering terrible falsities and sapping his confidence with each step in the shadows.

“Some were part of a different political party, others voted against this bill or that… The list goes on.”

Two in the morning, late autumn. Cochlea. Again.

He stood inches away from the gated fence, feeling a little chillier than the last time he was here. Funnily enough, he’d arrived first again.

The distant sounds of cars rushing down the streets made him flinch, and the occasional flicker of a light tricked Haise into thinking someone else was there. Fictional horror was one thing, but the real deal? He would rather not.

And yet he and Hide could very well be sitting on one of the largest conspiracies in recent times. The Washuu Task Force, working with the likes of Donato Porpora? If the Priest himself was in on it, then who else could be in their circle?

He looked past the fence and at the square towers making up the prison, at the possibility of answers.

Sen had to already know. It only made perfect sense; the reason she didn’t have anything on her record was because the Washuu Task Force deemed it so. And if they were working with Donato, then it followed that he had to play by their rules, no matter what. Even if it meant Cochlea for life. After all, one man against an entire organization? Laughable, from all angles.

Haise considered jumping the fence early and entering the visitors’ center to get shelter from the cold. He could always text her, right? Right. Plan in place, he fished out his phone, found her name in his contacts, and—

“Breaking into a high security prison all by yourself, handsome?”

He looked up, and smiled; there, leaning against the corner of the alleyway, was the woman of the hour.

Another outing, another hairstyle: two thick braids, messy and tangled, on either side of her head, tied at the end with pink ribbons. She wore a matching scarf decorated with a tiger lily pattern, a striped blue sweater over a purple shirt, and her favorite choice of black skirt, tights, and flats.

“Well?” Sen stepped further into the light, presenting herself further. “What do you think?”

He let himself admire her for a bit longer before he responded. “Do I have to say?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “I like hearing you say it.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle; who was he to deny her? He said the same thing he always said: “Beautiful.”

It was a word often used to describe her, but it was too often spoken by shallow tongues that hadn’t bothered to understand why. Some may have read her books, but they were just that to them: books. Selfish entertainment with little else to offer.

So when he called Sen beautiful, and when she preened, Haise’s chest swelled with pride. However, her hunger wasn’t sated yet. “How?” she asked, stepping closer.

Her scarf was within reach, and he threaded the ends through his fingers. It was a soft material, and he appreciated the pattern. “Like a pink sunrise, greeting a field of flowers.”

Now her body was pressed against his. “And what else?”

His other hand trailed over her arm, brushing her sweater. “The ocean, its waves calmly lapping against the shore.”

A hum as she thumbed his hand. “So I’m a field of flowers, blooming by the oceanside as the sun rises.”

He kissed her knuckle. “And more.”

Now she giggled. “Charmer.”

Despite that, how he wished his description did her justice. No amount of flowers or fields or views could truly describe what he thought of her, even if she basked in them.

In the distance, a car streaked against the asphalt, jolting him back to reality. “W-We should get inside!”

She pouted as Haise scaled the fence, but said nothing in protest. After he landed on the other side, he expected her to drop next to him. However, when he glanced up, he saw her perched at the apex instead, her legs dangling over the edge with a mischievous grin on her face.

“Sen…” he said, trying to sound threatening.

Unfortunately, he was apparently as scary to Sen as a small poodle. To add insult to injury, she only seemed encouraged by his feeble resistance. “Oh, don’t be such a killjoy.”

“We’re not doing this; you could get hurt!” Haise’s gaze darted about the lot. “Plus, we could get caught!”

“What if I say ‘please’?”

He ground his teeth together. The compliments were one thing— they had been on the other, safe side of the fence— but this was too much. “Sen, I’m serious.”

“Pretty please?” She tilted her head until it was almost parallel to the fence. “With chocolate sprinkles and a cherry on top?”

That sounded way too sweet, but she made her stance clear: she was going to drag this out. She was going to drag this out, and wait until he caved, or until he convinced her otherwise. Right here, right now, in Cochlea. Where anyone could see him, where anyone could see her. She was risking her entire reputation for what amounted to a stupid joke.

Haise looked at her again. She had thrown her head back, taking in the night sky and smelling the air. Her two braids slipped over her shoulders, fully exposing her neck to the light of the streetlamp, the stars, and a crescent moon. A slight breeze pushed her skirt against one of her legs, and she let it affect her ever so slightly.

“Wow…” The word fell out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

“Hm?” She glanced back down, all traces of mischief replaced with curiosity. “What was that?”

He blinked, then chuckled. “Nothing.” He held out his arms, folding like paper. “Ready.”

Sen turned brighter than the stars. “Yay!”

In one swift motion, she tossed herself off the fence and landed safely in his grasp, bridal style. She wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled into it.

“See? Totally safe.” The warmth of her breath brushed his skin.

He let out a high noise resembling a laugh.

She craned her neck to kiss him. He indulged in the pressure of contact briefly, and in any other situation, he might have leaned in further, felt closer to her. However, the nearest light flickered off for a split second, and a distant car zoomed past, making him jolt back.

“C-C’mon,” he said. “Big Bin’s waiting for us.”

“Aw…” Sen pouted again.

“I-I just don’t want us getting caught!” Haise put her down as gently as he could, then walked toward the visitors’ center.

“Why?” She stayed in his vision, grinning. “Because it’s ‘wrong’?”

“N-No!”

“Because it’s against social customs to flirt in a prison lot?”

“Well, uh—”

“Oh, I get it. It’s not about the law; you just don’t like getting in trouble.” A giggle. “You’d do all sorts of messed up things if it meant you didn’t have to face the consequences.”

As she said that, she slyly traced the shape of his back, lingering on the base of his spine.

“I-I don’t know what you mean,” Haise stuttered, even as a few scenarios cropped up in his mind like weeds.

Her hand slithered into his grasp. “We can always—” she yanked him down to her height and whispered into his ear— “experiment, if you’d like.”

Images of blindfolds, shower walls, and a concerning amount of rope flashed across his mind, and he would have spit out his drink if he had one. “I-I’m good!” he forced himself to squeak.

“Pity.” Sen punched in the code on the keypad, and she let them both in. “I’ve been wondering what sorts of twisted things you’ve been hiding from me, you know. You’re a horror artist, yet you’re so… demure. Surely there’s something I’m missing…”

He felt his palms grow sweaty as the earlier images became clearer. “O-One of us has to be, right? We balance each other out!”

“Do we now? Don’t you think there’s a bit of overlap?” She went ahead and ducked under a pipe, hands clasped behind her back. “You know, I distinctly remember a quote from Jung…”

“‘Th-The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances.’” Despite himself, Haise recited the quote from memory. “‘If there is any reaction, both are transformed.’”

“Exactly!” She held open the door for him. “I’m curious what sort of monstrous influence I’ve exerted on you.”

He paused. “You’re not a monster, Sen.”

She gave him a quizzical look as he put his palm above her head, holding the door in her stead. “You’re just saying that.”

“That… doesn’t make it less true.” He frowned.

For a moment, she held his gaze, then shook her head. “You have quite the twisted perspective, Mr. Sasaki, you know that?”

He sighed, but he was smiling. “I am a horror artist.”

She tutted, even as she squeezed his hand. He wondered if that was because of his influence on her. There was this spark of joy to her that wasn’t there before. It was hard to believe he could have such an effect, but the facts were staring him in the face.

As they walked down the last hall, Haise figured he’d mention something to her now. “Hey, Sen?”

“What’s up, Haise?”

“This weekend, there’s gonna be a get-together for my, uh, my friend.” Hide had organized it between their file hunt and tonight with Kimi and Nishiki.

She plucked something off Haise’s shoulder, seemingly uninterested. “Sounds nice.”

He felt the urge to explain. “H-Her sister’s the one that died recently. Torso’s latest victim.”

“Ah… Wait.” She stopped in her tracks and looked at him. “Nashiro Yasuhisa?”

He nodded.

There was another pause. “Small world, then. I didn’t think you knew a Yasuhisa, of all people. Strange.”

Haise thought about it. He supposed it was a little strange. The Yasuhisas, once upon a time, were extremely rich and influential, and he, most certainly, was not. “A-Anyway, I was hoping you would come with me. As support?”

Sen raised her brow. “Not exactly a resort vacation, is it?”

He chuckled. What nostalgic territory. One of them, inviting the other to meet their friends, during a Cochlea visit. “W-Well, I mean, I don’t want to force you to meet my friends, especially under the, uh, the shadow of death, haha!” He cleared his throat. “Forget I asked. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. Sorry.”

“Hey, I didn’t say no!” She elbowed him gently. “I’d be happy to go. Honestly, it’s a bit overdue.”

“I guess so.” He rubbed his neck. “Thanks…”

Big Bin was at the desk, scribbling something on a piece of paper when they approached. He looked up and grinned. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t my two favorite lovebirds.”

Haise and Sen flushed the shade of red. Despite her earlier teasing, it looked like she was still embarrassed when it came to her friends.

“Oh, you even look the same; that’s adorable.” Big Bin chuckled.

“Yes, yes, we’re a circus and you’re the audience. Incredible, whoopee.” Sen waved him off. “Is everything ready?”

Big Bin typed something on the nearby computer. “Yes, ma’am. One visit to Shachi, coming right up.”

“‘Shachi’?” Haise couldn’t help but ask.

Big Bin raised a brow. “Sen, you gotta stop keeping your boyfriend out of the loop with this.”

“Ugh, but not knowing is half the fun!” she whined. “It gives a mysterious allure to it, don’t you agree, Haise?”

Haise scratched his cheek. “Yeah, a bit…”

Big Bin let out a mirthful sigh. “A match made in heaven. Anyways, his real name’s Matasaka Kamishiro.”

As with all Cochlea visits thus far, Haise blanched. “K-Kamishiro…?”

“You know him?” Sen turned.

It… No, it couldn’t be. That was way too much of a coincidence. “I-I’m sure it’s not the same…” he said, more to convince himself than anything. “I know— knew a Kamishiro, but, er…”

“Lots of people under Shachi took the Kamishiro name at his behest,” Big Bin said. “He was imprisoned for housing illegal immigrants, you see, and he let them use his surname in order to start securing permanent citizenships. Rumor has it that he did the same, and that ‘Kamishiro’ isn’t even his real name.”

“I-I see…” If that was true, then who in the world had approached him in Anteiku all those years ago? “That, uh, that would be something…”

Sen was studying his expression, but instead of saying something like she usually did, she nudged him out of it by linking their arms. “We shouldn’t overstay our welcome. Come on.”

However, it was a short-lived oddity. As soon as Big Bin pointed them in the right direction and they were alone, she stepped in front of him.

“You okay?” she asked, those jade irises of hers scanning Haise’s face.

He cupped his chin, rubbing the area. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine…”

She grabbed his wrist with a huff, waggling it in front of him. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a terrible liar?”

He blinked and shook his head.

“Well, you are, so talk to me.” She gripped either one of his arms, setting him straight. “Shachi’s not as cruel as Donato, but I’d prefer it if you were put together before we meet him.”

Haise pursed his lips, and relented. “It’s… about the Kamishiro I knew— I know.”

“I figured as much.” Because Sen was amazing like that.

“Her name was Rize,” he continued. “It was a few days after The Black Goat’s Egg released, and I… I’d always been, um…”

He trailed off. Should he really be talking about his ex in front of his new girlfriend? That felt super wrong, not to mention insensitive.

“You were into her,” Sen finished for him. “So, at the resort, when you pushed me… That was because of her?”

He bit his lip, and nodded slowly. “Yes. It was. She… disappeared four years ago. Just left me. And— And I remember, when it happened, wondering if, despite everything she did to me, if it was my fault.”

Sen didn’t say anything— she simply stood on her tippy toes, pressed her lips against his, then embraced him. At the end of the day, she was a woman of action, and speech was a waste of time.

Not only that, but he knew that she understood what it was like to be left. To be like a toy abandoned by a child who had outgrown them, or worse, had grown bored of them. It wasn’t the fact that they left; it was the crushing loneliness and darkness immediately following that stuck out the most. The creation of a new void in your heart that would never go away, no matter what was filled in its place.

“Come on,” she said, pulling Haise down the hall.

But the spectacle could certainly be beautiful.

—

“You know, Shachi used to work at the Furuta Corporation.” Sen filled the air with trivia. “He was pretty up there until he was caught.”

“That’s… u-unfortunate.” Haise couldn’t really think of another word.

“Not really. In his attempt to retain both his standing in a greedy corporation and the respect he’d gained by bypassing laws, he ended up losing both.” She shrugged. “When you plant a sapling in a forest, it’ll never get the sun it needs to flourish. Better to place it on the outside.”

That was certainly one way of looking at it. Double agents had to perform a balancing act between their opposing factions, and to lose one would be to lose the other. Not only that, but there was always a secret dividing them from their fellows, keeping them from forming truly meaningful relationships. Still—

“If he was… ‘up there’, then wouldn’t his access to otherwise restricted content help?” If Haise remembered correctly, the Furuta Corporation was an airway company. If Shachi played his cards right, he could smuggle people using their planes. In fact, in some respects, his standing might even be necessary for success.

“True, but does it attack the root problem of illegal immigration in the first place?” Sen countered. “Think big: Does it help solve why people feel the need to cross the border illegally? Does it improve their chances at a stable life wherever they go?”

Haise offered no rebuttal, letting her continue.

“Manipulating systems in order to achieve the opposite has its place, but it isn’t a sustainable model; there will always be a breaking point, and people will always get caught one way or another.”

They rounded a corner.

“Shachi was first discovered about six years ago with a handful of illegals, some of them high-profile criminals in their home countries. Do you know how quickly he was caught after attempting to go into hiding?”

Haise shook his head.

“Two weeks.” They arrived at the door. “Meanwhile, the Torso’s run rampant for ten years. Strange, huh?”

“Strange…” he repeated.

Very strange, actually. Was Shachi just terrible at hiding? No, he had to have known the risks of being caught. He would have had reserve funds, as well as loyal allies who could help him, when the going got rough. Yet the Task Force captured, detained, and imprisoned him.

How?

Sen gripped the door handle. “Ready, Haise?”

He gulped. “Ready…”

Giving his hand a squeeze, she opened the door.

The first thing Haise noticed, even from a distance, was just how large Shachi was. He was a mountain towering over his and Sen’s hills, with rippling muscles and a full beard reaching his diaphragm. And that was when he was sitting down.

What in the world did a Cochlea inmate like him eat?

“Hi, Shachi!” Sen waved as if she were greeting an old friend and not a man who could probably break her like a toothpick. “Thanks for letting us see you tonight.”

“Sen,” he said in a deep and powerful voice. It made Haise want to shrink into his shirt. “Who is the boy?”

“This is Haise Sasaki, my—” she paused to think of a word— “partner.”

Haise appreciated the double meaning. He would rather not be redder than a tomato in front of a life-sentenced inmate, even if said inmate wasn’t another serial killer.

“We’re writing a story together, you see, and are looking for some last-minute primary sources, namely—” Sen slid into her seat and pulled out her notebook and pen— “you.”

“Hm.” Shachi’s gaze fell onto Haise.

Haise bowed his head slightly. “It’s, um… nice to meet you, Mr. Kami— Mr. Shachi…”

Shachi scrutinized Haise, raising the hairs at the back of Haise’s neck. It was like being analyzed beneath a microscope, where every single movement, down to his breathing, was observed and recorded for an unknowable purpose.

“And what will you do with the information I give you?” Shachi asked.

A smile slowly stretched across Sen’s face. “Do you enjoy prison life, Shachi? From what the Priest told me, it’s two meals and an hour of exercise every day. Sounds tedious and restricting, if you ask me. I’d go crazy, personally.”

His eyes narrowed, and Haise swallowed.

“Nothing to say for yourself? The Task Force must be so proud of themselves, cowing the great Orca…” She tapped her pen against her knee with her chin in her hand. “You were quite the stubborn one back in your heyday, as I was told. Struggling against your ever-oppressive fellows and being thwarted at every turn! Yet you dug your heels in for such a valiant cause, and at the end of it all… changed absolutely nothing!”

“Er, Sen, shouldn’t we—” Haise tried to intervene. She was getting too personal with this. And off-track.

She cut him off. “The only change you were able to effect was when you decided to operate outside of those systems. When you abandoned the structure and worked on your own terms, your own choices, your actions bore fruit.”

“S-Sen…!” Haise tried again, but she didn’t even seem to hear him.

Shachi simply folded his arms. “So your goal is reformation, then.”

She snickered. “Would that I were so noble and shrewd, Mr. Kamishiro! I’m an author of horror and tragedy, unfortunately— my specialty is destruction, not creation. I’m simply a harbinger of the chaos that’s gone ignored at the door for far too long.”

Now Haise was just lost. “Um, what are you talking about, Sen?”

Shachi’s eyes narrowed again. “You brought the boy here and told him nothing?”

Another secret. Considering where they were, Haise couldn’t blame her. Sen was just a woman of many secrets, and those secrets were uniquely dangerous. She wouldn’t reveal them to just anyone.

“I’d rather he hear it from a primary source,” she explained.

Shachi paused, then gave her an amused look. “Rather unlike you, Sen.”

She rolled her eyes, slightly pink. “I guess.”

The mountain of a man chuckled. The sound reverberated about the room like a small tremor. “So you trust him.”

Sen took a breath, then gripped Haise’s hand, making him flinch. “I do,” she said.

The sight made the man’s lip curl upward, and his hardened gaze turned soft, almost like velvet. “I see.” He took a deep breath, exhaling through his nostrils. “Regardless— boy.”

“Y-Yes?” Haise looked up.

“You may have come this far, but it is difficult to turn from knowledge once one has obtained it.” Shachi’s intimidating aura settled in again. “To learn is to risk your view of the world. To change it irrevocably, and possibly endanger you. Are you prepared?”

To ask such a question was… almost ridiculous, frankly. Haise had broken into Cochlea twice, and even disregarding that, he had also obtained classified criminal files and knew people who were able to get such things within hours of asking. His view of the world had already been compromised; whatever awaited him could hardly be worse.

And… he had a feeling he already knew what was going to be said. He’d been drawing a story about it for nearly six months, thanks to a quick nap in a coffee shop.

“I-I’m ready.” He squeezed Sen’s hand for confidence.

It seemed to satisfy Shachi. “Very well.” He sat up in his seat, letting out a breath. “What do you know about the Washuu?”

The name that continued to crop up. “Well… they’re a private investigative company founded under Allied supervision while they occupied Japan post-World War II,” Haise said, recalling what he knew from a research session. “They were considered traitors at first: some people even called them dogs under the heel of Western interests. However, their purpose— to solve crimes that traditional police couldn’t— kept bearing fruit, and they’ve become widely respected as a result.

“That said… they could have connections to Donato Porpora.”

Shachi’s expression shifted to something like amusement. “You know much already, it seems.”

Haise rubbed his chin. “I-I, uh, had a, um… personal interest in Donato’s arrest.”

Sen, who had pulled out a book to read, smiled to herself. “He’s a resourceful one,” she said, turning a page. “I was impressed by how much he figured out on his own.”

He beamed at her approval.

Shachi hummed. “I see. And how did you come across this information?”

She glanced up momentarily, the way she did when she pretended to be uninterested in something.

“Er, I’d rather not say…” Haise said. “Sorry…”

“Think nothing of it.” Shachi folded his arms. “It is as you say. The Washuu Task Force— rather, the Washuu themselves— have directly collaborated with the Priest, as well as countless other criminals— including the Torso— in order to achieve their goal of continued dominance and wealth.”

Haise felt his blood run cold. If that was the case, then both Mr. Yasuhisa and Nashiro had both been victims of the Washuu’s connections.

“The Task Force is not alone, however. There are others with similar connections, and they operate under a single roof,” Shachi continued. Furuta, Ihei, Arima—”

Sen tensed.

“— Kaiko, Souzu, Sanzu—”

“S-Sanzu?” Haise blurted out. “Like… Like the Sanzu General Hospital?”

“The very same.”

That was where Ryouko had been placed.

Haise didn’t see Sen quietly closing her book to look at him.

“Together, they are an organization that pretends to be a friend to the everyday individual, when they are orchestrators of their suffering,” Shachi said.

The Sanzu General Hospital had forced Ryouko to choose to live and burden Hina, or die and deprive her of her last parent. For something as asinine as money.

“Hope is just a tool, a fire, to them. It can warm hearts, and can inspire or reinforce loyalty. However, if that hope becomes a blaze, becomes too strong—”

They hadn’t tried to save Ryouko.

“— they will create reminders of despair.”

They had killed her.

“They are V.”

———

“Self-proclaimed ‘kings’ of law, moderators of murkiness— whatever you wanna call them. To line their pockets and play God, they’ll do anything— kill anyone.”

— from the draft of Sen Takatsuki’s ninth work, The Folly of the Hierophants

#writing #blank canvas #mister orca...

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uswanth-123 · 1 year ago

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SAP PS PP

SAP PS and PP: A Powerful Combination for Project and Production Management

In the world of Enterprise Resource Planning (ERP), SAP stands as a titan. And within SAP’s vast suite of modules, two stand out for their integrated power in managing complex projects and streamlining production processes: SAP PS (Project Systems) and SAP PP (Production Planning).

What is SAP PS (Project Systems)?

SAP PS is a comprehensive module designed to handle all aspects of project management, from initiation to closure. It provides tools for:

Project Structuring: Break down complex projects into manageable Work Breakdown Structures (WBS) with clear hierarchies.

Scheduling: Create detailed project timelines, define task dependencies, and allocate resources.

Cost Planning and Control: Develop precise budgets, track expenses, and manage project finances.

Resource Management: Optimize the utilization of personnel, equipment, and materials.

Collaboration: Enable effective communication and seamless information sharing between project stakeholders.

What is SAP PP (Production Planning)?

SAP PP focuses on the planning, scheduling, and execution of manufacturing and production activities. Key functionalities include:

Demand Planning: Forecast future demand based on sales data and market trends.

Master Production Scheduling (MPS): Translate demand forecasts into high-level production plans.

Material Requirements Planning (MRP): Calculate precise material needs and procurement timelines to support production.

Capacity Planning: Assess and optimize the use of production facilities and machinery.

Shop Floor Control: Monitor and execute production orders, ensuring efficient shop floor operations.

The Power of Integration: SAP PS and PP

Where magic truly happens is when SAP PS and PP work in tandem. Their integration brings several benefits:

Seamless Project Execution: Production plans and orders generated in PP can be directly linked to corresponding project activities in PS. This ensures timely material procurement, resource availability, and accurate cost tracking linked to the production process.

Real-Time Visibility: Changes in the project timeline or resource allocation within PS are reflected automatically in PP, keeping production plans aligned and avoiding costly disruptions.

Data Consistency: PS and PP share a common data source, eliminating redundancy and ensuring data integrity throughout the project-to-production cycle.

Enhanced Decision-Making: Combined insights from PS and PP provide a holistic view of project progress, production capacity, and resource utilization, enabling informed decision-making.

Industries that Benefit

Industries with complex projects and intricate production chains gain the most from integrated SAP PS and PP:

Manufacturing: Manage projects such as new product development, plant construction, or equipment installation while synchronizing with production plans.

Engineering and Construction: Plan and execute large-scale construction projects, ensuring material availability and coordinating on-site production.

Aerospace and Defense: Handle complex government contracts and defense projects with tight deadlines and strict resource management.

In Conclusion

SAP PS and PP, when effectively integrated, form a powerful combination within the SAP ecosystem. Organizations gain better control over projects, optimize resource utilization, streamline production processes, and enhance decision-making capabilities. If you’re managing complex projects with production components, exploring the benefits of SAP PS and PP integration could be a game-changer.

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blackjackkent · 2 years ago

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All right, we're gonna go ahead and dive straight into whatever Halsin wants us to do, because after experiencing Reithwin Village, Hector wants this shadow curse big-time gone.

On some level, perhaps it would be more reasonable to bring Lae'zel or Astarion instead of Shadowheart for this, since the corruption we're trying to cleanse is fundamentally Sharran in nature (at least theoretically), but I want the drama. >:)

Halsin is waiting for them on a plateau of rock overlooking the water, just beyond the barrier of safety Isobel maintains around Last Light.

"You're here. Good. Now we can begin."

Hector comes to a halt near him, watching his face curiously. Halsin is pretty unreadable most of the time, extremely stoic, not given to wearing his heart particularly on his sleeve. But here, now, it's obvious that the elf is frightened -- and determined.

"First, I want to know what to expect." He resists the urge to shiver as the unending dark swirls around them.

"Thaniel is trapped within the Shadowfell," Halsin says gravely. "But thanks to your efforts, I know where to look. Now I must go there - alone."

Hector casts his mind back, back to the library at the monastery, to a particular book that spoke of the Shadowfell and the Feywild. Two sides of the same coin, they were described - two realms existing in parallel to the material plane, but where the Feywild swarms with light, emotion, magic, the Shadowfell is a plane of dark, the most pure incarnation of Shar's power.

If Halsin is right, this is where the shadow curse now bleeding across the land originates from - from the fey boy whose soul is tied to this place being trapped in that world of endless dark.

He nods slowly. "What am I to do?" he asks.

"With the Oak Father's blessing, I can infiltrate the Shadowfell, but doing so will sap my strength. I'll need your help if I am to return," Halsin answers.

Hector frowns. Guard duty. They're well suited to it, and he would much rather be out here, dark though it is, than to travel directly into Shar's domain - but for Halsin to take on this journey by himself seems ill-advised at best. "Going in alone is suicide," he says, forcing the words out of himself in what he hopes seems something like bravery. "I'll come with you."

Halsin smiles slightly; no doubt he can see Hector's fear as clearly as he sees his face. But he has the good grace not to comment on it. "No," he says firmly. "If there's any interference with the portal, then our one chance is lost forever. And so am I." His smile flickers and he looks away. "I'd rather have you by my side...but this is the only way."

He looks over his shoulder at the empty stretch of rock leading towards the edge of the cliff. "It took me years of study, of seeking the Oak Father's favor, to find a way to part the veil. Pray that this works."

With all my heart. Hector watches Halsin turn away from him, and in his mind begins a litany of all the cries to Selune he has ever uttered or heard uttered. Lady of Moonlight...see through this shield of dark and lay the path bare before him. Let him see the way and let it be clear for him, and let the boy be brought back safely. You have seen through my eyes the horrors that were wrought here. No more...

Please...no more...

"Oak Father...hear me...aid me..." Halsin whispers, his ritual intertwining with the words of prayer streaming through Hector's mind. "Force open the jaws of Darkness. Make passage for your vessel of Light..."

The portal bursts open like a moonbeam lancing through the gloom. Hector squints into it; past the gleaming boundary, he can just glimpse the landscape of the Shadowfell - a grey, mountainous region of colorless rock and emptiness.

"It's ready," Halsin says gruffly. Hector can hear the fear in his voice too, now, unmistakably. But the druid is mastering it, his broad shoulders square and unbowed staring into the alien place. "I'll return with Thaniel as soon as possible. Stay close to the portal. Buy me what time you can."

Before Hector can speak, he is gone - disappeared into that endless darkness. And around them, as if called by the incursion into their realm, the shadows begin to rise...

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle

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magistersign123 · 2 years ago

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SAP online training is a dynamic and flexible way to acquire expertise in one of the world's leading Enterprise Resource Planning (ERP) systems. Here are ten lines about SAP online training:

SAP online training allows individuals to learn and master SAP software from the comfort of their own homes, providing flexibility and convenience.

These courses cover a wide range of SAP modules, including finance, supply chain, human resources, and more, catering to diverse business needs.

Students receive comprehensive instruction on SAP functionalities, including configuration, customization, and business processes.

Expert instructors guide learners through real-world scenarios, helping them apply SAP solutions to practical business challenges.

SAP online training often includes hands-on exercises and projects, ensuring a deep understanding of the software.

Participants can access a wealth of learning resources, such as video tutorials, e-books, and online forums to enhance their knowledge.

Certification options are available, allowing students to validate their skills and increase their career prospects.

These courses are suitable for both beginners and experienced professionals looking to enhance their SAP proficiency.

With 24/7 accessibility, learners can progress at their own pace and revisit materials as needed.

SAP online training equips individuals with valuable skills that are in high demand in the business world, making it an excellent investment in one's career growth.

#sap online training #saptraining #sappp #sapfico

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sliptohk · 2 years ago

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Prompt #2: Bark

A small knife, sharpened to an edge keen enough to split hair that might fall across it, was the only proper way to collect the samples that Qata was so carefully drawing from the spindly little tree. A respectable feat to grow beneath the dense canopy that ensured the swampland beneath remained as dark, damp, and dreary as it was. While such a condition may have been off-putting to those more attuned to bright, sunlit meadows it was a lovely state for the young poisoner to collect samples from rare insects and plants that thrived there.

An impressive collection for the day, at that! From delightfully toxic mushrooms that would have unlucky sisters bemoaning their existence, to the debilitating diseases within insectile mandibles just waiting to lay burlier nuisances low for long enough to complete research upon the charmingly lethal seeds that had yet to be mastered. Yet to be named! The possibility of granting a title to a new concoction was enough to set the Keeper's tail whipping back in forth in clear excitement.

"Shimmers? Expulses? Whimpers? Whimpers! Hm. No, that sounds underwhelming."

Distracted by the loose concepts that had moved from mind to tongue, Qata felt the hard thump of a glass container striking her lightly on top of the head. Thankfully the flattened bottom, as having a bottle aggressively smashed over her skull would have addled the thoughts going through her mind rather than simply distracting them for a moment.

"What are you rambling on about, sister?" Pelhna scowled down at the shorter miqo'te, hand tapping that container a few more times for good measure. "Finally pickled your brain? Or is this the last bit of brine to finish the process?"

Glancing upward, Qata squinted in confusion at her. What last bit was the older woman talking about? It took several moments before she came to realize that they were talking about the strips freshly cut from the tree. And a good deal of effort not to break out into cackling that may have incited more enthusiastic fury from her short-tempered sister. Appraising the particularly large centipede rattling around in that jar helped shift thoughts down less amusing channels.

What a beautiful specimen. And the muscle contractions it induced were positively memorable!

"Yes, my dear sister! Have you not yet worked with it? Fantastic materials! Simply crush it to dust and it paralyzes the lungs! Cut too deep and the sap within twists your belly all up in knots if you consume even a drop! Why, I got a single splinter once before and was fairly certain I was going to lose the finger! Luckily Sehkrah was nearby to resolve the matter!"

As anticipated, the swift rattling off of particularly unappealing effects should the sapling be poorly handled was enough to earn a bit of space as Pelhna skittered back a couple steps. Though whether because Qata was speaking so enthusiastically with broad gestures of her knife wielding hand, or the sample holding one, was difficult to determine. But she was confident she could develop a strong theory regarding it should she so wish.

It was actually the overly thrilled, and unwittingly goofy, fang-bearing grin that had crossed her face that had actually accomplished it. Though she had never come to realize that was a familiar expression whenever she began to ramble on far too energetically about unsettling topics.

Stuffing that centipede into her satchel, Pelhna gave a brief hissed reply, "Just keep it away from my table! You never warn us when you leave such things unattended!"

"Rest assured, my most beloved sister! I would never do something like that! On purpose, that is. Never on purpose!"

Had it been any of the other Ooja of their generation, the comment would have been a lie. A bald-faced one, given the way they embraced the concept of sabotage so readily amongst the clan. But one of Qata's few virtues had always been her stalwart honesty. Often to a bafflingly overly frank fault.

Not in this situation, of course. At least not in regards to the exhaustive list of side effects she made up on the spot. Simply a harmless little lie to keep the less dexterous, or at least less self-destructive, Ooja from tampering with the lovely little tree she had discovered. It was of grave importance. A rarity amongst the Shroud, or at least the section of it that the Ooja resided in. Simply the pinnacle of material to work with.

It did make such a lovely smelling incense if properly processed.

Qata would happily come up with even more frightening descriptions of the sapling's effects so long as it kept anyone else from helping themselves to the harmless little thing instead.

#FFXIVWrite2023 #FFXIVWrite #Qata Ooja

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saperp · 2 years ago

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Top SAP MM Consultant Interview Questions: Prepare for Success

What is the scope of SAP MM?

The scope of SAP MM (Materials Management) is quite extensive, covering a wide range of procurement and inventory management processes within an organization. Here are the key areas that fall under the scope of SAP MM:

Material Master Data: SAP MM encompasses the management of material master data, which includes details about materials, such as descriptions, classifications, storage locations, and purchasing information.

Procurement Processes: SAP MM covers various procurement processes, including purchase requisitions, purchase orders, request for quotations, vendor evaluation, and contract management. It ensures smooth and efficient procurement of goods and services.

Inventory Management: SAP MM facilitates effective management of inventory, including stock monitoring, goods receipts, goods issues, stock transfers, physical inventory, and stock valuation.

Warehouse Management: SAP MM integrates with SAP Warehouse Management (WM) module to handle warehouse operations, such as inbound and outbound processes, storage bin management, and inventory control.

Invoice Verification: SAP MM includes functionalities for invoice verification, which involves comparing vendor invoices with purchase orders and goods receipts to ensure accuracy and initiate payment processing.

Material Requirement Planning (MRP): SAP MM supports MRP processes, which involve determining the materials and quantities required to fulfill production or customer demands, and generating procurement proposals accordingly.

Introduction: (sap mm consultant interview questions)

If you’re aspiring to become an SAP MM (Materials Management) consultant or have an upcoming interview for this role, it’s essential to be well-prepared. SAP MM consultants play a vital role in managing the procurement and inventory processes within an organization. To help you ace your interview, we’ve compiled a list of informative and common SAP MM consultant interview questions, along with some valuable insights and tips.

Question: What is the purpose of the SAP MM module, and what functionalities does it encompass?

Answer: The SAP MM (Materials Management) module focuses on managing the procurement and inventory processes within an organization. Its functionalities include material master data management, purchase requisitions, purchase orders, goods receipt, invoice verification, inventory management, and vendor management.

Question: How do you handle material master data in SAP MM, and why is it important?

Answer: Material master data in SAP MM is managed through the Material Master record. It contains detailed information about materials, such as descriptions, procurement details, storage locations, and accounting data. Accurate and up-to-date material master data is crucial for efficient procurement, inventory management, and reporting processes. It ensures that the right materials are available at the right time and at optimal costs.

Question: Can you explain the different types of procurement processes in SAP MM?

Answer: In SAP MM, the different types of procurement processes include:

Purchase Requisition (PR): A request to procure materials or services.

Request for Quotation (RFQ): Inviting suppliers to submit quotations for materials or services.

Purchase Order (PO): An official document to procure materials or services from a vendor.

Goods Receipt (GR): Recording the receipt of materials into inventory.

Invoice Verification: Verifying vendor invoices against purchase orders and goods receipts.

Question: How do you define a source list in SAP MM, and how is it used in the procurement process?

Answer: A source list in SAP MM is a list of approved vendors for a material. It helps ensure that only specific vendors are selected during the procurement process. The source list is maintained at the plant level and specifies the validity dates for each vendor. This helps control the procurement process and maintain consistent quality and pricing from approved vendors.

Question: Can you explain the difference between a purchase requisition and a purchase order in SAP MM?

Answer: A purchase requisition (PR) is an internal document that is used to request the procurement of materials or services. It initiates the procurement process. On the other hand, a purchase order (PO) is an official document issued to a vendor to procure materials or services. A PR is a request, while a PO is a formal commitment to purchase.

Question: How do you handle the subcontracting process in SAP MM?

Answer: The subcontracting process in SAP MM involves sending materials to a subcontractor for processing or assembly. Here are the key steps:

Create a subcontracting purchase requisition.

Convert the purchase requisition into a subcontracting purchase order.

Transfer the materials to the subcontractor using a goods issue.

Receive the processed or assembled materials using a goods receipt.

Perform invoice verification for the subcontracting services provided.

Question: How do you perform inventory management in SAP MM?

Answer: Inventory management in SAP MM involves tracking and controlling materials within the organization. Key activities include:

Goods Receipt: Recording the receipt of materials into inventory from vendors or other sources.

Goods Issue: Issuing materials from inventory for internal consumption or external use.

Stock Transfer: Transferring materials between different storage locations or plants.

Stock Adjustment: Adjusting inventory quantities due to physical inventory counts or other reasons.

Stock Valuation: Valuing inventory using various methods, such as moving average price or standard price.

Question: Can you explain the concept of a release strategy in SAP MM?

Answer: A release strategy in SAP MM defines the approval process for purchase requisitions and purchase orders based on predefined criteria, such as the value of the document or the purchasing organization. It ensures that the appropriate individuals or departments review and approve procurement documents before they are finalized and sent to vendors. Release strategies help maintain control and adhere to internal authorization requirements.

Question: How do you handle pricing conditions in SAP MM?

Answer: Pricing conditions in SAP MM determine the cost or price of materials during procurement. They include elements like base prices, discounts, surcharges, and taxes. Pricing conditions are maintained in condition records and can be automatically determined based on factors such as the vendor, material, quantity, or purchasing organization. The pricing procedure in SAP MM determines the sequence and logic for pricing condition determination.

Question: How do you handle vendor evaluation and selection in SAP MM?

Answer: Vendor evaluation in SAP MM is performed to assess and select the most suitable vendors based on criteria such as quality, delivery performance, and price. The evaluation can be based on subjective assessments or objective measures, such as on-time delivery percentages or defect rates. The results of vendor evaluation can be used to negotiate better terms, maintain a preferred vendor list, and improve overall procurement processes.

Question: How do you handle the process of invoice verification in SAP MM?

Answer: Invoice verification in SAP MM involves matching the vendor’s invoice with the purchase order and goods receipt to ensure accuracy and validity. The process includes:

Verifying that the invoice matches the purchase order and goods receipt.

Checking for any discrepancies or variances in quantities, prices, or terms.

Resolving any issues or discrepancies with the vendor.

Posting the invoice for payment processing in SAP FI (Financial Accounting).

Question: How do you handle stock valuation in SAP MM?

Answer: Stock valuation in SAP MM determines the monetary value of inventory items in the system. It can be done using various methods, such as moving average price or standard price. Moving average price calculates the average cost based on the goods received, while standard price uses a predetermined cost for valuation. Valuation is essential for accurate financial reporting and inventory control.

Question: Can you explain the concept of consignment in SAP MM?

Answer: Consignment in SAP MM refers to a scenario where a vendor’s materials are stored at the customer’s premises, but the ownership of the materials remains with the vendor until they are consumed. The customer only pays for the materials when they are actually used. Consignment stock is tracked separately in SAP MM, and the vendor’s liability is settled based on the consumption of the materials.

Question: How do you handle the integration between SAP MM and SAP SD (Sales and Distribution)?

Answer: Integration between SAP MM and SAP SD enables seamless flow of information and processes. Key integration points include:

Material Master Data: Materials created in SAP MM are used for sales order processing in SAP SD.

Availability Check: SAP SD checks the availability of materials in SAP MM to determine if the requested quantities can be delivered.

Delivery Processing: Deliveries in SAP SD trigger goods issue postings in SAP MM for inventory reduction.

Billing: Billing documents in SAP SD generate accounting entries for revenue recognition and financial reporting.

Question: How do you handle inventory optimization in SAP MM?

Answer: Inventory optimization in SAP MM involves maintaining optimal inventory levels to meet demand while minimizing excess stock. Some approaches to inventory optimization include:

Forecasting and Demand Planning: Using historical data and demand forecasts to predict future material requirements.

ABC Analysis: Classifying materials based on their consumption value to prioritize inventory management efforts.

Reorder Point Planning: Setting minimum stock levels that trigger replenishment to avoid stockouts.

Just-in-Time (JIT) Procurement: Aligning material procurement with production or customer demand to reduce inventory holding costs.

Question: How do you handle the process of subcontracting in SAP MM?

Answer: Subcontracting in SAP MM involves outsourcing certain operations or processes to a subcontractor. Here are the key steps:

Create a subcontracting purchase requisition.

Convert the purchase requisition into a subcontracting purchase order.

Transfer the components to the subcontractor using a goods issue.

Receive the finished or processed goods using a goods receipt.

Perform invoice verification for the subcontracting services provided.

Question: How do you handle the process of physical inventory in SAP MM?

Answer: Physical inventory in SAP MM involves conducting periodic stock counts to verify the accuracy of inventory quantities. Key steps include:

Planning and scheduling the physical inventory count.

Performing the physical count and recording the actual quantities.

Comparing the actual quantities with the system quantities.

Resolving any discrepancies or variances.

Adjusting the inventory quantities based on the findings.

Question: Can you explain the concept of batch management in SAP MM?

Answer: Batch management in SAP MM involves tracking and managing materials that are produced or procured in batches. Each batch is assigned a unique identification number and can be traced throughout the entire supply chain. Batch management is crucial for industries where product traceability, quality control, and shelf-life management are essential, such as pharmaceuticals and food manufacturing.

Question: How do you handle the process of vendor evaluation in SAP MM?

Answer: Vendor evaluation in SAP MM is performed to assess and rate vendors based on various criteria, such as quality, delivery performance, service level, and price competitiveness. The evaluation process typically involves creating evaluation questionnaires, collecting feedback from relevant stakeholders, analyzing the results, and generating vendor performance reports. The evaluation results help in making informed decisions regarding vendor selection and improvement initiatives.

Question: How do you handle the integration between SAP MM and SAP FI (Financial Accounting)?

Answer: Integration between SAP MM and SAP FI ensures the seamless flow of financial information related to procurement and inventory management. Key integration points include:

Goods Receipt: Goods receipts in SAP MM trigger accounting postings in SAP FI for inventory valuation and cost recognition.

Invoice Verification: Verified invoices in SAP MM generate accounting entries in SAP FI for expense recognition and liability settlement.

Asset Management: SAP MM provides information on fixed assets, which is integrated with SAP FI for asset accounting and depreciation.

Conclusion: (sap mm consultant interview questions)

Preparing for an SAP MM consultant interview requires a solid understanding of the module’s key concepts and processes. By familiarizing yourself with these interview questions and their insights, you’ll be well-equipped to showcase your knowledge, skills, and practical experience. Remember to supplement your theoretical understanding with real-world examples and demonstrate your ability to apply SAP MM principles in practical scenarios. Best of luck with your SAP MM consultant interview!(sap mm consultant interview questions)

#sap #sapconsultant

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