#Security Breach: Reconstructed

[fizzymxcha]

I am in love with my own oc anyone else?? just me? okay :,)

Just some sad hours with Cloud, but don't worry, he'll be fine come tomorrow... maybe

[bag-chips]

The Security Breach sillies!! Been meaning to post them for a while so here :) Headcanons under Keep Reading!

- The most advanced of all the generations, the animatronics use complex AI learning making them the most lifelike and sentient robots even outside of Fazbear entertainment. Each has unique personalities that can be moulded and changed by outside factors.

- The designs are made to capitalise on 80s nostalgia, taking inspirations from fashion of the time and utilising a vaporwave aesthetic. To hark back to previous generations, the animatronics are designed to look as though they have a face plate. The mechanical parts are also mostly hidden by complex joints to give them a more lifelike appearance.

- The Daycare Attendant is actually the most primitive in terms of technical ability and design. Fazbear Entertainment were able to find some of Henry and William’s scrapped designs, which were changed very little for the final product. Originally designed for the theatre, a last minute change meant that the animatronic would be used for the daycare. Although its ability to change its appearance is a marvel, it being based on design plans from the 70s means that they are prone to damages, needing almost constant maintenance. Even so, the Daycare Attendant is one of the most popular animatronics amongst customers.

- Glamrock Chica is the smallest animatronics of this generation. Fazbear Entertainment learnt very little since the early days, and once again programmed her to consume actual food. Like her 1st Gen counterpart, she is prone to having rotten food, maggots and cockroaches inside her. In this AU, she has the Valley Girl accent.

- Monty Gator is considered the strongest of all the animatronics. He is also one of the most aggressive. This is because he was originally programmed to be a ‘sore loser’ in Monty Golf, however a bug in the complex AI learning morphed this into excessive anger issues. He can easily knock down heavy displays and claw his way through gates. He was originally designed to be the mascot for the golfing area, however after the disappearance of Bonnie he was reprogrammed to become the new member of the band. His golfing motif still persists in his outfit.

- Roxanne Wolf’s outfit is inspired by racing gear, with her also acting as the mascot for the short lived hairdressing service. She is fully capable of cutting and styling her. In all their wisdom, Fazbear Entertainment programmed her to have anxiety and confidence issues to make her more relatable to teenagers. This has backfired massively, with Roxy’s AI learning exacerbating these qualities.

- Glamrock Freddy successfully won over fans after years of mixed opinions on the company’s mascot. With him being the mascot of Fazzer Blast, he has an alien motif in his outfit. Programmed to be best friends with Bonnie, the AI learning has developed this bond into something more. He misses him greatly.

- Glamrock Bonnie was laid back, playful and sassy. He was decommissioned by Monty. However, Monty was taken over by Vanessa’s programming, as a test to see if said programming worked. Monty has no recollection of this. Parts of Bonnie were used to reconstruct Afton

[mariacallous]

The White House suggests that it is in the final stages of pushing for a Ukraine-Russia peace deal. And there are modest signs of progress, including a U.S.-Ukrainian agreement on mineral rights and reconstruction, as well as a meeting between U.S. President Donald Trump and Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky in Rome that did not devolve into a shouting match.

But even assuming that Ukraine succumbs to U.S. pressure and reaches an agreement with Russia, all three states face a fundamental problem: International law will regard any peace treaty procured by force like Russia has deployed since 2014 as void. The remedy for this—U.N. Security Council approval of the agreement—warrants that institution playing a role sooner rather than later in the conflict’s outcome.

The Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties went into force in 1980 after three decades of drafting and ratification. Today, 116 states are bound by its terms, including Russia and Ukraine. The United States, while not a party, accepts most of its provisions as customary international law. Here’s the catch for Ukraine and Russia: Article 52 of the convention states, “A treaty is void if its conclusion has been procured by the threat or use of force in violation of the principles of international law embodied in the Charter of the United Nations.”

Prior to World War II, international law allowed states to go to war and coerce treaties as a result. The U.N. Charter, drafted under U.S. leadership, changed things fundamentally. It prohibits both the threat and the use of force, except in cases of self-defense or with U.N. Security Council authorization. The idea was to avoid future agreements like the infamous 1938 Munich Agreement where Britain, France, and Italy agreed to Nazi Germany’s annexation of Czechoslovakia’s Sudetenland. Thus, the experts who produced the first draft of the Vienna Convention saw what became Article 52 in simple and categorical terms: All treaties procured by threats or use of force breaching the charter are not simply voidable but void. The International Court of Justice has described Article 52 as customary international law, making it binding on all states.

Although Russian President Vladimir Putin, and more recently Trump, have suggested that Ukraine bears responsibility for the current conflict, that premise is simply untenable. Whether the conflict to be resolved started in 2014 with “green men” in Crimea or the full invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, Russia is in violation of the U.N. Charter. It has no viable claims to self-defense or Security Council approval. Indeed, the U.N. General Assembly concluded as much in March 2022. Even if Ukraine agreed to cede territories in an attempt to negotiate at least some favorable peace treaty provisions (such as security guarantees and the recognition of its right to pursue EU membership), that cannot salvage things. Any peace agreement that makes territorial or financial concessions to Russian interests must be viewed as procured by the force Russia has deployed, which makes it invalid.

Fans of realpolitik may wonder why the invalidity of a Ukrainian-Russian peace treaty matters so long as the parties accept it politically. And certainly, states increasingly rely on nonbinding agreements to deliberately skirt their rights and obligations under international law. The so-called Iran nuclear deal is a paradigmatic example: By not making it a formal treaty, the Obama administration avoided a hostile U.S. Senate approval process, which then allowed Trump’s first administration to walk away from the deal without triggering the right to any legal remedies for Iran and other participants. That deal’s very impermanence, however, highlights the risks of such an approach.

The treaty form has endured for millennia for a reason. Putting promises into a treaty signals to the parties and others a serious commitment that is absent in more ephemeral promises. If a Ukraine-Russia peace treaty is void before the ink is dry, neither side will have the legal ability to demand that the other conform to its terms. Neither can deploy sanctions or other countermeasures if the invalid treaty is breached. Instead of peace, this will create a dangerous instability; at any future point, Ukraine or Russia could simply claim that the deal was always void, creating ample room for opportunistic violations of its terms if either state sees an advantage in restarting the conflict. Third-party countries would also be free to decline to recognize the deal or to facilitate its observance.

There are two ways to avoid an invalid treaty. The first is based on self-defense. If the original victim of aggression repels the invasion and dictates terms to the original invader, that treaty is valid even though it is coerced. That possibility seems unlikely in Ukraine at present.

The other option is to allow the U.N. Security Council to ratify the deal under its authority to maintain international peace and security. It has done so in the past, including when it ended the war in Kosovo in 1999 and the fighting between Ethiopia and Eritrea in 2000. It could do so again here. That would mean the United States cannot go it alone in hammering out a peace deal. Instead, it needs to bring along a majority of Security Council members, including those who, like the United States and Russia, have a veto—namely, Britain, France, and China. Bringing in these countries will, however, likely mean accommodating additional peace terms that will be less favorable to Russia, strengthen Ukraine’s position, and give a number of key European voices their desired seats at the table.

The White House will no doubt want to ignore or resist the Vienna Convention’s rule voiding treaties generated by coercion. Trump’s second term is an apparent exercise in casting aside long-standing international commitments and institutions; it would be surprising if he did not do so here. But the obligations that the U.N. Charter and the law of treaties impose are not subject to the whim of a hegemon. The rule voiding coerced treaties exists precisely because all U.N. member states accepted a rule-of-law framework to avoid a world where might is always right.

U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio must recognize the problem coercion will pose for any future peace treaty between Russia and Ukraine, no matter the pressure the United States imposes to achieve it. He should aim to convince the White House that cooperation from the Security Council—now—is the best path forward. Greece holds the Security Council presidency for all of May and is thus well positioned to place the item on the council’s agenda. Involving the Security Council can, for one, help ensure a lasting peace between Ukraine and Russia that all countries will respect. But just as importantly, it can ensure that the result is a just peace—a deal the Security Council can certify comports with international law. At a time of rapid global change and increasing disorder, it is important that states signal that the rule of law—not aggressive wars—will continue, however imperfectly, to serve as the global order’s defining framework.

[ruddentropptabornok]

Ukrainian and European peace deal counterproposals to US at talks in London

Ceasefire:

- Commit to a full and unconditional ceasefire in the sky, on land and at sea.

- Both sides immediately enter into negotiations on technical implementation with the participation of the US and European countries. This is in parallel to preparation of the agenda and modalities for a full peace deal.

-Ceasefire monitoring, led by the US and supported by third countries.

-Russia must unconditionally return all deported and illegally displaced Ukrainian children. Exchange of all prisoners of war (the principle of "all for all"). Russia must release all civilian prisoners.

Security guarantees for Ukraine:

-Ukraine receives robust security guarantees including from the US (Article 5-like agreement), while there is no consensus among Allies on NATO membership.

-No restrictions on the Ukrainian Defense Forces.

-The guarantor states will be an ad hoc group of European countries and willing non-European countries. No restrictions on the presence, weapons and operations of friendly foreign forces on the territory of Ukraine.

-Ukraine pursues accession to the EU.

Territory:

-Territorial issues will be discussed and resolved after a full and unconditional ceasefire.

-Territorial negotiations start from the basis of the line of control.

-Ukraine regains control of the Zaporizhzhia Nuclear Power Plant with US involvement, and also the Kakhovka Dam

-Ukraine enjoys unhindered passages on the Dnieper River and control of the KinburnSpit.

Economics:

-US and Ukraine implement economic cooperation/minerals agreement.

-Ukraine will be fully reconstructed and compensated financially, including through Russian sovereign assets that will remain frozen until Russia compensates damage to Ukraine.

-US sanctions imposed on Russia since 2014 may be subject to gradual easing after a sustainable peace is achieved and subject to resumption in the event of a breach of the peace agreement (snapback).

https://www.reuters.com/world/ukrainian-european-peace-deal-counterproposals-us-talks-london-2025-04-25/

[generic-whumperz]

Apocamerica Map

Apocamerica Masterlist

Understanding this map: Please note that I’m not a professional map maker and know absolutely nothing about cartography. This is simply a quick visual reference guide for navigating post-apocalypse America.

That being said, this map is subject to change and not wholly accurate or representative of safe/unsafe zones, as they constantly change, and there is yet to be an official database within this alternative universe. Think of this as an approximation. Also, keep in mind that this is 12 years after the initial outbreak, and things did not always look like this, nor will they continue to remain the same. Take this all with a grain of salt.

Zone breakdowns

Red, orange, & gray zones: AVOID AT ALL COSTS! Death is almost guaranteed from radiation and mutant anthrophages alike.

Blue Zone: Republic of Arcadia

Yellow zones: The yellow zones on the map are areas where human settlements still exist, and some communities are even thriving. However, these areas lack military protection and government aid, so they are considered unsafe (however subjective the word “safe” is within the context of this map). Yellow zones are also susceptible to radioactive wastelands but are often unexplored, classifying them as "unknown." Travelers in these areas risk encountering various dangers outside of anthrophages, including mutant animals, extremist groups, wasteland gangs, marauders, raiders, and other unsavory characters. Despite their predicted presence, these groups are not marked on this map as they tend to move around and are hard to keep tally of.

Green zones (power & economy): Areas designated as green zones are not entirely safe from security breaches, nemaxys outbreaks, and gang wars over territory and supply runs. These zones consist mainly of civilians striving to survive and establish a livelihood. As a result of the volatile post-outbreak landscape, the green zones are divided into constantly changing sectors. The few remaining "safe" human settlements are widely dispersed, leading the remaining Governors and congressmen to propose the formation of nation-states to exert better control over their respective areas.

However, the current de facto President, the former Speaker of the House, is determined to maintain control over sector territories and military command. They face the challenge of navigating a fragmented nation while contending with threats from the ROA and other factions attempting to seize power, testing their leadership in their efforts to restore order and unity to the ravaged remains of the US.

Despite the President’s efforts, the power vacuum in the sectors continues to expand as power-hungry politicians spare no effort to secure civilian allegiance. Some congressmen and governors have carved out their own fiefdoms within green and yellow zones, effectively becoming warlords of their respective regions.

Following the outbreak, the Hawaiian islands and Alaska are presumed to be the safest and untouched land masses. Hawaii closed its borders and halted all imports/ exports as soon as the first case of the nemaxys contagion hit the news. Meanwhile, a mass exodus of people left the continental US and headed up to Alaska, and the new capitol was relocated to a small Alaskan fishing town.

After the establishment of the Provisional Emergency Relief Agency (PERA), a federal-level build-back program was implemented in all green zones. The Bureau of Labor & Exports (BOLE) oversaw the program and regulated Chattel Services Inc. (CSI) and the remaining corporate-owned labor forces, which had a significant impact on the reconstruction efforts.

Under stringent government sanctions, an underground illicit black market has flourished, giving rise to new crime families that have ascended to power. These new syndicates replaced the previously dominant players, seizing control of the markets and territories once held by their fallen rivals.

Economic collapse rendered money worthless for a period, but eventually, the monetary system was reinstated, allowing for the revival of commerce through traditional means and ration tickets.

While crime and punishment were primarily addressed at the local level, the aftermath of the chaos led most people to abandon violence once their basic needs were met. Gainful employment provided them with a sense of purpose and belonging in society.

What about travel?

Transportation outside green zones mainly involves using trains, planes, or boats, as navigating on the ground with vehicles through a post-apocalyptic wasteland is considered too risky. However, some people still opt for ground transportation despite being viewed as dangerous and ill-advised compared to other means of travel.

[lady-rosceline-hurst]

[BREAKING NEWS]

A prominent member of the House of Remembrance has suffered a major security breach after a random omninet denizen took umbrage to a post by said member.

While an obvious shame upon Lady Rosceline Hurst, the true bombs have come from opportunistic hackers who seized upon this abrupt act of digital-terrorism. While it didn't take long for this breach to be sealed and digital defenses to be upgraded, the past few hours have shown this was too late.

This morning the Omninet was flooded with a nigh-unprecedented amount of leaks. Years of private correspondence between the honored Lady Rosceline Hurst and various other notable figures laid bare for all to see. Some of which is quite... scandalous and unsuited for our program. Though the gossip-drama industrial complex will be fueled by them weeks, perhaps even months, to come.

However what is truly of consequence is the political and economic scheming which has been revealed. The average Karrakin citizen has been given a glimpse into the dirty backrooms of our illustrious state.

Lord Reginald Halifax of the House of Stone has already began to use this incident to continue his crusade against non-baronic peoples, while also decrying the weakness of The House of Remembrance to allow such a thing to occur. Lord Amelia Fraceux of the House of Water has stated that the honorable Lady Hurst provoked this heinous digital-terrorism with, quote, "An arrogant attitude almost as antiquated as our governmental structure." Lord Fraceux is as candid and provocative as always.

Whatever your opinion, stay tuned as we continue to report on the ongoing fallout of this developing situation!

...<DATABASE RECONSTRUCTION COMPLETE>

...<OMNINET CONNECTION SECURE>

...

With the situation handled and our systems back online, the time hath come for me to release on official statement on behalf of mine illustrious House. I shall begin by responding to the uncouth statements by mine fellows in the Houses of Stone and Water.

To the Venerable Lord Amelia Fraceux, I admit I find thine statement on both mine 'attitude' and our illustrious state both disturbing and surprising. This most heinous attack was forsooth carried out by an unshackled NHP of Horus. The behavior of such a demon is most erratic and I assure thee I did naught to provoke it. Thine implication that this terrorist was in any way justified speaks more to thine character than to mine own.

To the Honourable Lord Reginald Halifax, I must express grave disappointment. Whilst our Major Houses art disparate in political affiliation, many of us in the Interest art able to work around these petty squabbles. Mine Illustrious House of Hurst, Jewel of Crossland, doth have good relations with several Minor Houses of Stone upon Upper Laurent. I have already received correspondence from several members of such Houses, whom did wish mine House a speedy recovery and did denounce thine use of this data breach as an excuse to attacketh the great House of Remembrance. Prithee, speakest with more concern for thine cousins and their interests in future. I shall forgive thee, for thou art clearly ignorant of the Dawnline Shore's politics.

On that topic, as a general statement to those of the Concern, I must explain some intricacies of mine House's situation. On a relatively new, still developing colony such as Crossland, expenditures and costs are great for any minor house. I have spent more than a few late nights awake, speaking with mine dear cousin, the House Hurst Treasurer, whist he hath argued against mine requests for an increased cyber security budget. In the end, it seems I was right to worry about such things, but even after this attack I do see the Lord's side. With Harrison Armory barbarians so abundant in the Shore and pirates stalking either side of mine homeworld's dwarf star system, our military spending is equally important. Forsooth, I would allow mine personal correspondence to leaketh one hundred times to keep mine people safe and sound. In the coming weeks, House Hurst will taketh action to ensure that both of these needs are met in future.

The leaks are many and I shall address them individually, mine response is already quite long.

I thank thee, good people of the Baronies, and wish thee a fair morrow.

-Lady Rosceline, Heiress of Illustrious House Hurst, Jewel of Crossland

[theflashdriver]

Gintsugi

Heavy heels clicked across the tiled floor, marking the passing of each quarter second. Blaze the cat could usually maintain a relatively aloof façade, only breaking from it under the most dire of circumstances or when pushed to her absolute limit. Yet, all through this morning, afternoon, and evening, a certain aggravated frown had fused itself into to her muzzle. Today had been one of the, if not the, most draining day of the princess’ life. She had been locked inside the great hall from sunrise to sunset, answering questions, signing papers, and listening to her advisors. Yesterday had been difficult, almost impossibly difficult, but something about today’s monotonous crawl had dragged out that pain and made it far more insufferable. There had been questions about restructuring, expanding the royal guard, assigning watches, public appearances, and reconstruction, the likes of which she’d surely still be dealing with for weeks if not months to come.

As her glare glanced one of the castle’s many maids, Blaze watched her shrink back and bow her head. Though she felt an immediate upwelling of guilt, the princess couldn’t bring herself to stop. With every second that past, she knew she would further regret being away from her desired destination; as she began to scale the stairs, she found her pace had only further increased. She knew this path well but not out of practice, only because she had wandered this trail so often in her mind. Even as she finally walked it, the feline found herself dissociating from her surroundings and lost among her thoughts.

Yesterday replayed in her mind, the attack had come without warning. From the sea just south of Southern Island, as the sun set and they day came to its end, a titan milled from metal had emerged from the sea. The warning bells began to ring only after the first of its tentacles had burst from the ocean, soon followed by a gaping maw filled with saw blades. Whether its limbs numbered in the hundreds or the thousands Blaze could not recall but an endless hail of them had jettisoned from its body and rained down as a concentrated missile strike on the palace grounds. Blaze could visualise the moment so clearly, hearing the initial explosion as rocket after rocket rose from the ocean. She had stood, stunned, as they arced through the air and towards the palace she had just left.

A second intruder to her world hadn’t been so blindsided and, what’s more, he had been in a position to act. She’d watched a tiny cyan speck ensnare the explosives, preventing them from breaching the palace, and heard him call out… something, something she couldn’t recall but it had brought her back to her senses. She’d took off like a shot, racing to secure the Sol emeralds. Just as she’d laid hands on them, just as she thought they’d be safe, an explosion shook her to her very soul.

As she reached the landing, seeing the long stretching hallway of visitor guest rooms, Blaze could still visualise what had happened. She’d emerged from the basement expecting to find the castle in ruins only to see it was untouched, hardly an ornament out of place and nary a window broken. She’d rushed outside, emeralds prepared and fists aflame, only to find him on her doorstep. Crumpled, smouldering, unmoving; barely recognisable. The fit of rage she’d fallen into, emeralds sparking and clashing into her being, had been more than enough to see off Eggman Nega and his cruel device... but it had been too little too late. While the day was saved, it had come at a cost.

Blaze found herself on the threshold, her forehead practically against the door. She couldn’t bring herself to reach for the doorknob. The guardian hadn't been allowed to see him yesterday, doctors and surgeons had rushed back and forth from his room all through the night, but she’d been told partway through the morning’s first meeting that his condition had much improved. Unfortunately however, that fact had come coupled with some more negative news.

Certain medical practices, common to this world, could not be safely used on him; they had taken blood and were running tests, trying to determine what could be done to help him. He came from a totally different world, let alone a time without medicine, he could have had a negative or allergic reaction to any number of this world’s standard medical treatments. They’d cared for him as best they could but all they could really do was bandage him, monitor him and wait for his body to heal. Even his blood was thought to be abnormal, due to the psychokinetic energy that ran through him. Blaze couldn’t help but expect the worst.

Swallowing hard, she dared to rap against the wood. The silence that hang in the act's wake was deafening.

Finally, she forced her hand upon the doorknob. She couldn’t feel what should have been cold brass in her hand, heat was flagging from her frame and pouring into it. Her emotions were building beyond what was manageable, beyond what was acceptable. This wasn’t safe, not for her and certainly not for him. When her emotions got the better of her, control was lost- her powers would escape her form without her say and run rampant throughout her surroundings. If she went inside she had to be calm, otherwise he’d only-

“Good evening, your majesty,” A familiar voice spun the feline on her heel.

"Good evening, Gardon," The cat greeted the guardsman.

The older koala, dressed in blue, had evidently followed her up the stairs; she'd been too lost in her worries to notice. He plainly had something in his satchel, be it to deliver to her or the hedgehog within. Regardless, the immediate formality of his poise and tone brought sickness to her stomach. She had wanted to meet with Silver alone, without the barrier of ceremonious trappings.

"I presume you've come to visit our guest?" He enquired, surely knowing the answer.

"Yes, I wanted to ensure his recovery is going smoothly," She half lied.

"That's very kind of you, your highness," A small smile crept across his fuzzy muzzle, "I'm certain that he will appreciate your visit."

The stiffness of his frame was different from his usual overly formal manner, the cat could read on his face that he was perturbed. Between that and Silver not coming to the door, something was clearly wrong. Why had the guard even travelled up here?

"Is there something on your mind?" The ruler asked, cutting straight to the point.

"Forgive me for prying," He bowed once again, "But, prior to his unannounced appearance, I hadn't heard of this Silver the hedgehog, yet he plainly sacrificed life and limb to defend the kingdom. Has he visited prior?"

Gardon wasn't verbalising the full scope of his intrigue, but Blaze knew him well enough to read between the lines. In reality, the elder was asking if the hedgehog was another threat to the kingdom, if Silver was being kept close because he was a danger to her people. Did others think his appearance signified a further threat?

"He has not, but I know him," She answered, "He however does not know me."

"Ah, so you had only heard of him before his arrival here," Gardon thought aloud, "That-

"No, we are acquainted, I am simply far more familiar with him than he is with me," She cut him off, "It is a complicated matter."

"It certainly sounds to be," The koala paused for a moment, perhaps expecting more of an explanation, but Blaze offered none.

Instead, she asked, "Has he eaten anything?"

"A small amount this afternoon, we offered more but he claimed to be full quite quickly... he is a rather gaunt fellow," That much would have been made all the more of obvious by the shearing of his fur to treat his wounds, "You instructed that we should keep him here rather than transfer him to a hospital. Are you certain that was wise?"

"If they cannot offer him any further treatments, then I can see no reason why he shouldn't be here," She much too quickly responded.

"Oh, yes, of course," The harshness of her tone had plainly rattled him, "I only asked because of how unusual the situation is," He was starting to ramble, "After all, as you answered, he is a relative stranger to this world. It is unusual that he is staying here..."

"What are you implying?" She felt her brows furrow.

"N-Nothing, Princess Blaze," He averted his gaze, "I am simply explaining that, due to your busy schedule, and the straightforwardness of your initial orders, there is confusion amongst the staff as to why he is being kept here. There are questions as to whether he is a captive, thought to be partially responsible for the attack on the palace. Some think you have been rather..." He was scrambling for words, "Uncommunicative regarding your intentions for him."

A sigh escaped Blaze's lips. Between the combat yesterday, the public interfacing that had followed, this morning's meetings, and the time he'd spent in treatment- she knew she had been both blunt and short with people. There hadn't been time for true explanations, it was no wonder that her staff were confused. Had she been taking out her frustrations on them?

"I'm sorry, Gardon," She apologised, "He is a guest, not a captive... but I have no idea why he appeared here or for how long he intends to stay. His arrival is in and of itself an anomaly," Again, she leaned into formality, "My intention would be to hold him here until he has fully recovered, though I have my doubts that he will agree to such."

"If you know him as well as you think you do, don't you stand a chance of convincing him to stay?" Gardon asked.

"I intend to try," Though she knew she would be unsuccessful.

"Well, regardless, there is no need to apologise your highness, there was simply some confusion and concern," Gardon seemed to squirm where he stood, "Especially regarding that right arm of his."

"Right arm?" Blaze questioned.

"I was visiting to deliver this," From a his satchel, he revealed an overlarge golden bangle, "The pieces of it were recovered from across the palace grounds, I had it reconstructed... though I am uncertain if its function will have been restored. Regarding that arm, there were some difficulties..." The elder shrank under Blaze's stare, he was avoiding explaining, "There was an incident this afternoon."

Concern again overflowed, "What kind of incident?"

"He seemed to lose control of the uncuffed arm while his bandages were being changed," Gardon grimaced, "No one was hurt, but you'll find the room in a rather dysfunctional state. I've taken the lead communicating with him, most of the staff are rather intimidated."

Blaze's gaze drifted back to the door before returning to the golden band in Gardon's hand. She had never seen him without those cuffs, even when he'd been young and they'd been overlarge on him. The cat had no idea how they functioned, and hearing what he'd done without one of them flared her anxiety.

"I will return this to him," Blaze took the trinket, "Thank you."

"You are very welcome, your..." The guardsman seemed to catch himself this time, "Blaze," Despite that, he still gave a small bow, "I hope his recovery will bring you some comfort."

With no more than that the koala moved along, walking the hallway before descending the stairs and out of view. Again Blaze found herself alone outside of his door, would he have heard all they had discussed? Was he even in a state to have heard their conversation? She should have been comforting him, not conspiring behind his back.

Straightening her shoulders and taking a deep breath, the pyrokinetic tried to muster her professionalism. Blaze didn't give herself time to overthink, slipping into the room without another attempt at knocking. She pinned her back against the door to shut it the moment she was inside, both hands behind her. Her blood ran cold as she took in the space.

The room's floral wallpaper was gashed, it looked to have rolled off as if torn by the claws of some gigantic beast. Everything right of the bed was in complete disarray; where once a vanity and desk were stood, now lay a pile of rubble and an indentation into the wall it had been crushed against. The carpet was fanned up and clearly some of the floorboards had come with it; twisting to form the likeness of a gnarled hand and revealing the plumbing beneath.

He was sat on the far side of his bed, parallel to the balcony window across the room's centre. Light was shining from him; psionic power, the likes of which would only typically glow from him in the midst of combat, almost blinding to look at. The energy was bleeding through the bandages that covered his body, displaying markings-

"Oh, it's you," A bandage covered his right eye, the dressings over his wounds left little for the cat to imagine, "Hello."

Silver's arm stole her attention, the right limb he'd apparently lost control of. The symbol that usually sat on the palm of his hands had distorted and stretched; cyan light now traced all the way up the limb as multiple strands, now more of those circular sigils marked his elbow and shoulder but the colour didn't end there. From his shoulder further lines, jagged and rough, stretched up his neck to mark the right of his face. The extensions faded as they neared his quills but Blaze swore she could see a circle faintly flickering at the centre of his forehead.

"Good evening," She greeted, quickly feeling the need to explain herself, "I knocked but you didn't answer."

"I was distracted," He turned away again, "The moon's nice tonight."

He was lying, but the cat still had no idea how much he'd heard of her conversation with Gardon. His fur had been shorn short, even his quills were reduced from their usual branches to mere twigs. Blaze's heart ached at the sight of him, not just damage but demoralised. Feeling her muscles tense as anxiety swelled, the cat slipped closer, arriving by his bedside.

"How are you feeling?" She managed to ask.

"I've been worse," He shrugged, "How about you?"

He was hurt, how could he stand to ask? "I've been worse too..."

The view from his window wasn't anything special, it didn't overlook an especially grand section of the royal garden, but her timing had been just right to centre the full moon within the peak of the glass. Despite its shortened state, his fur reflected the moonlight in a manner that only added to the otherworldly glow that filled the room. She'd never had a chance to see him awash in the glow of moonlight. Only the red of flames.

Her chest ached and heart pounded, she could see in her minds eye all she would have loved to do. To re-bandage him as she had so often before, to wrap her arms around him, and to promise that she would protect him. Now these would be surprise acts from a stranger; likely unwanted by a more self-sufficient hedgehog.

"They told me that you beat Eggman Nega's machine," His gaze was still locked on the window, "Do you know what happened to him?"

"He had some sort of emergency escape advice, a form of crude teleportation," The cat answered, "Once I destroyed his machine, he vanished in a flash of green."

"He probably went back to mess up my world," Silver grumbled, "I don't even know why I'm here, I've already caused you far too much trouble."

"Nonsense," She huffed, "You injured yourself saving the palace, you've done the opposite of causing trouble."

"You don't think Eggman Nega followed me here?" He shot back, "I made a mistake, I fell through time, he must have followed..."

"Based on the design of his machine, I doubt that was the case. He always intended to strike here," Blaze quickly countered, "It was just a fortunate coincidence that you arrived at the same time."

"Maybe..." Her words were falling on deaf ears, "Still, I know what I did to this room..."

His optimism was at an all time low, things were surely dire in his timeline. Whether it was conflict with Eggman Nega or an apocalypse induced by failures in the world's past, the Silver she'd known had certainly struggled but never fallen to the kind of despair that this one was presently wrestling. She'd seen him hurt, but he'd always longed to jump to his feet and keep fighting for what was right. Perhaps keeping him here to heal wouldn't be so difficult after all...

Why did she long for him to be so foolhardy? Did she want him to hurt himself, just so that she knew that her partner was still in there? Was his state of self-sacrifice not proof enough of that?

Blaze started to reach out, just to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but she thought better of it before her fingers could meet with bandage and fur. This was not her Silver, he did not know of her shared past. To him she was an ally but a quiet and distant one, just as she was to everyone else. She didn't know how he'd respond to comfort, let alone her sympathy. Besides, if she let that wall down then what more would follow? Even visiting him in the night like this had been foolish.

Her gaze drifted past him, landing on the bedside table. A platter of sandwiches still sat uneaten. Had that been his lunch? Had they not brought him dinner? Regardless...

"You need to eat more," She lowered herself to sit at the foot of the bed, "It's clearly affecting your head."

"I'm not hungry," He refused, "I feel... strange."

His bluntness irked her more than it should; Blaze felt her teeth grit. Were this her Silver, she would have called him naive and made him eat. The hedgehog would have complained but he would have seen it was for his own good, understood and trusted her guidance as she would his. But, again, this was not her Silver.

She didn't know what to do with herself, let alone him. This hedgehog had plainly been hardened by a time spent struggling alone; he had not learned to rely on others in his moments of weakness. He didn't seem comfortable with showing weakness at all in fact...

"I've never seen your arm like that," The cat professed, "Does it hurt?"

"No, it doesn't," He turned to her, "But it's more than just my arm."

He reached up and shifted the bandaging over his eye, revealing what lay beneath. Rather than the bright yellow iris she had anticipated, the hedgehog's eye was glowing with psychic intensity. One of the lines stretching from the mark on his palm had cut up over his cheek and through the pupil.

"Can you see through that?" The cat asked.

"Barely..." He replaced the binding, "My whole body feels so sluggish, but my psychokinesis is surging. Just keeping it under control is making me nauseous. I can't eat, I can't sleep..." His stare fell to his lap, "I'm going to be a burden if Eggman Nega returns."

He was wallowing in his self pity, this truly wasn't the psychic she'd known. Her Silver was far from immune to his emotions, but his response to them had so rarely been to cower. He would rush forward, headstrong; she would have to wrestle him to sit still and act rationally. He may have at times thought himself a burden, but his response would never have been to admit it. He would have struck out even harder, been even more self sacrificing!

As his eyes flickered back to her, she quickly turned her gaze to the window. The hedgehog had once compared her to the sunlight they'd sought, but he had been that very light to her. She had not held hope that life could improve before she'd met him, every day had been a joyless struggle. Would this Silver be like the moon? He was colder, but did he reflect the light of that prior hedgehog, no matter how many times more weakly? Was his soul still within this new mind and body?

The cuff Gardon had given her no longer looked like the others on his person. The koala was right when he said there had been issues with its restoration; vein like lines of silver filled what had surely once been cracks in the golden metal. It held together as one solid piece, but it was neither whole nor smooth to the touch. Even ignoring that the cuff's initial crafting was a mystery, its restoration had plainly been a struggle.

Blaze glanced to him again, finding he had returned to sullenly staring into the moonlight. Again the princess looked to his arm, she was certain it hurt more than he was letting on. She had seen him lose control of his power before, how rage could turn what was would be a gentle psychic grasp into crushing force. If that same energy was flaring uncontrollably within him, then the cat could imagine how it felt. The least she could do was try to help him, she owed that much to the hedgehog she'd known.

A flinch pushed her back as she touched his arm, feeling the psychokinetic surge that was pulsing through his body. Her second grasp carried her purpose, she would not let go of him no matter how it hurt. She would gladly suffer any pain if it meant that Silver could finally rest properly after all the good he had done.

Surprised creased his muzzle, "What are you do-

"Give me your hand," The cat insisted, "Now."

He didn't resist, but his expression remained perturbed. His fingers were thinner than she recalled; was this a result of psychic energy draining him, or the world he came from? Regardless, Blaze pushed on.

She wasn't even certain what she was doing, the cat went off of pure instinct. It was a little difficult to squeeze the cuff over his hand, it always had seemed to fit so perfectly around his wrist, but with a shove and a tug the jewellery found its way back to its proper place. Almost immediately light filled the dark band in the golden cuff, cyan energy immediately flared and the wristlet solidified itself into place.

Blaze interlocked her fingers with his, still feeling the psychic static continue to buzz through her bones. Hard callouses were obvious to feel, as were the bones of his knuckles, these things were at least familiar to her. She watched with baited breath as his cuff grew brighter; as it did, the lines stretching up his arm thinned slighter and slighter. Where silver had been used to fill the cracks of gold in the cuff, the cyan light was sparking like wild electricity- would that impurity prevent his recovery? Would the cuff break again?

The cat clenched her teeth and held him tighter, she felt his body spasm. The light was fading from both him and her surroundings, only amplified on the metal armlet. Finally, when the limb was too bright to look at directly, she turned away from his arm and up to him. The lines hadn't fully faded, but they had been greatly reduced.

Gently the princess reached up with her free hand, pushing back the bandage that obscured his eye. There was a hint of cyan, a tiny speck in the depths of his pupil, but otherwise the glow had fully left his face. There was no flickering symbol on his forehead, no lines down his cheek. The cuff wasn't containing the spread of psychic energy as successfully as it had before, symbols still stretched as far as his bicep, but he immediately looked so much less alien. So much more familiar.

"How's that?" She asked without thinking.

"Better," His gaze fell to his wristlet only to squint at the brightness, "I think."

Her eyes searched his expression for warmth but still found only confusion and shock. Was he surprised that the cuff had been restored or that it had partially cured his affliction? Was he simply puzzled why she was still holding his hand? She should have been able to read his expression, she used to be able to read him like a book.

He didn't understand why she was doing this for him. This Silver had never known her; did he have any companions? Did he know the kindness of others? Did he act out of his own kindness or a hardened sense of what was right and wrong? It was her fault he was like this; she had left him for a good cause, but she had abandoned him. She was responsible for what he had become. No wonder she was keeping him so close, this was penance.

The cat released his hand, pulled away from his forehead and rose to stand. He didn't know her. She didn't know him. His body and mind were plainly different; it had been foolish to pretend that his soul would differ.

"Please excuse me, I have further duties to attend this evening," Blaze announced, "If you require anything, do not hesitate to ask. You are a guest here."

Despite pushing away she lingered for a moment longer, staring at him from the middle of the room before making for the exit. She had needed him; when the feline had been but a kitten she had been painfully nihilistic, not illogically given the world that she had found herself living through. Silver had helped her, his naive drive to restore their broken world had inspired her to work toward the same and want more than life had dealt them. Now he needed her, it was her turn to mend him, and yet she hadn't the strength to do any more for him. It was only as she reached the door that his voice again reached her ears.

"Blaze?" She looked back to him, still sat on the bed, "Thank you."

Without so much as a goodbye, the princess shut the door behind herself. The weight didn't leave her shoulders, if anything it redoubled. Across this second lifetime she had always been pressured; to hold herself to royal standards of etiquette, to defend her kingdom, and to protect the Sol Emeralds. The weights she'd carried had been countless, and yet... they had never been personal like this. She'd always tried to deflect, to isolate her dutiful self from the true thing. That wasn't an option with him.

Blaze slumped against the door, eventually sliding to sit on the carpeted floor. She couldn't bear to open that door again. Not until he was able to open it for himself.

[isolaradiale]

We previously teased that we'd be doing something different for the December event, and this is it! Because everyone is busy with the holidays and there are likely event reruns some members would like to do but can't since they never win the polls, we decided to try a period where you can choose whichever event you'd like to write during the three week event period.

There are, of course, some rules and caveats for this:

Most events are available to be chosen but not all of them. This is because some of the staff who wrote those events are no longer with us. You can find a list of eligible events at the bottom of this post!

You must choose a single event to receive event participation with on any single blog. You're more than welcome to thread with others doing other events so that they have people to write with, but you can only claim participation for a single event during this period!

There is a flat reward of a free unlock for everyone who participates regardless of whether or not the event you pick gives an unlock. This is so everyone receives an unlock regardless of the event chosen. Picking one that gives an unlock will not give you two, you will still only receive the single unlock. You must write at least 300 IC words for your chosen event to be eligible to claim the unlock.

The usual rules on the EVENT RERUN GUIDE still apply! Your character will see the city in the state that it was in during that event, and will believe everyone is going through the same thing.

HOW PARTICIPATING IN MULTIPLE EVENTS WORKS

As a preliminary reminder: you can only claim participation for a single event regardless of how many you participate in. Participating in multiple events is more to help others get interactions as most members will be choosing different things.

Characters are sent to a different digital reconstruction of the city depending on which rerun you're doing. Areas unique to the event are recreated in this space too.

Characters will not remember being in multiple events at the same time during the event period. You can't have a thread in Subversion and then hop into The Maskerade Festival and have your character recall being in Subversion right before that. They will remember all of the events after this event period is over, however.

Because the event reruns take place in a digital space, there is no 1:1 timeline with the outside world. Reruns have no tangible effect on the city where business continues as usual. Just because your character feels like they spent a week in an event does not mean a week has passed in the city proper. Just keep in mind that events do canonically last two to four weeks depending on the event, so your character couldn't spend more than that amount of time (from their perspective) in a single event rerun.

Below you can find a list of eligible events along with links to their information posts:

COVET

SUBVERSION (PT1 + PT2)

THE FANTASIA WAR (PT1 + PT2)

DREAMSCAPE

EMPATHEOREM

CUPID SHUFFLE

SECURITY BREACH (PT1 + PT2)

SHORE

MASKERADE FESTIVAL

SHINE BRIGHT

OPTIMIZATION

CANVAS (PT1 + PT2)

LATESUMMER NIGHT'S SOIREE

MISTIFIED

CREW CALL

SUBSISTENCE (PT1 + PT2)

A CROCUS AMONG US

DOWN YOU GO

FRAGMEMORIA (PT1 + PT2)

THE CHALLENGER'S PATH

DATA CORRUPT (PT1 + PT2)

HOMECOMING (PT1 + PT2)

SPIRALE GAMES

ENDLESS AURORA

PHANTASM AMALGAM (PT1 + PT2)

COLOUR THEORY (MID-EVENT UPDATE)

ALTERNATIVE ALLEGORY

[dzthenerd490]

File: OC 49

SCP#: AOX

Code Name: 100 Children of Death

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: Site-AJ has been designated as the only place safe enough to contain all 100 SCP-AOX instances. Each one is placed on a different floor and depending on their anomalous status is given a different containment cell. Please see Addendum X-105 for details. 

In the event of a containment breach the entire Site is to be locked down and Mobile Task Force Demeter-10 “Vengeful Spirits” are to ensure Site-AJ is secure and all anomalies are still contained. Though certain SCP-AOX units will have a Specialized Task Force depending on their nature and anomalous properties, MTF Demeter-10 is responsible for working with these STF units to ensure Site-AJ is secure. Please see Addendum X-105 for details on these STF units. 

Description: SCP-AOX is the 100 surviving children that were born from the collaborative experiment of Dr. West, Dr. Haselhurst, and SCP-ACT. The project was conducted to see what would happen if dead embryos from failed cloning experiments were grown using SCP-AEF rather than normal amniotic fluid. There were 12,000 embryos used in the experiment and each one was introduced to a new chemical, given different cybernetics, some injected with nanobots, some exposed to various anomalous energy particles, and much more including different combos of the stated elements. This was called Project Lazarus, and it was done to see what new possibilities could be made from SCP-AEF and if it perhaps had actual medical value rather than making dead corpses into undead killer psychopaths. The project was requested by Dr. Haselhurst and approved by both the O5 Council and by Administrative Staff. Of all the 12,000 embryos grown with SCP-AEF, only 100 were successfully grown and these were SCP-AOX instances. 

Each SCP-AOX instance possesses a different appearance depending on the elements they were exposed to as they were grown. This has also led to certain SCP-AOX instances having different anomalous properties, different mental states, as well as different physical characteristics. Despite each one of them being different a majority of them share a sort of kinship and don’t like being separated from each other. As a result, despite some requiring different’ containment procedures and therefore to be contained at different sites to separate them only led to aggression and violence. As a result, there was only one Foundation site that was large enough to hold them all leading to the reconstruction of said site, that being Site-AJ. Naturally because no two SCP-AOX instances are the same, some had to be contained on different floors of the site and others were given their own Specialized Task Force depending on the severity of their anomalous properties. Please see Addendum X-105 for details. 

SCP-AOX instances were born in 2010, and all of the surviving instances are now naturally 15 years old by the current year 2025. Thankfully the reconstruction of Site-AJ was done by the time they were 8 and therefore old enough to start becoming more dangerous and require better containment as a result. Not surprising since they were the creators, but a few ended up bonding with either Dr. West, Dr. Haselhurst, and SCP-ACT. One in particular was a female instance which Dr. Haselhurst named Jolanda, but which the Foundation knows her as SCP-AOX-11. She is the only instance that is not contained as she, of all of them, has the most self-control and actually wanders around with Dr. Haselhurst. The Ethics Committee and the O5 Council has allowed this as being around SCP-AOX-11 has made Dr. Haselhurst more sympathetic to his new colleagues here at the SCP Foundation besides Dr. West and SCP-ACT.

.

SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub

[girlactionfigure]

🟪 Thursday - events from Israel  

ISRAEL REALTIME - Connecting to Israel in Realtime

( We occasionally get bitten by autocorrect, yesterday Nes Harim was changed to New Harim. )

▪️MK THREATENS A TERRORIST.. MK Zvi Sukkot accidentally discovered during a visit to the Shaare Zedek hospital in Jerusalem that the terrorist who carried out the attack in Givat Assaf in which a soldier was murdered was there for treatment.  He arrived at the terrorist's room and yelled at him: "We will make sure that the State of Israel kills you. We will pass a law that will execute you.”

▪️CALL FOR FUNERAL ATTENDEES.. “*I wanted to tell you about Geri Gideon Henghal*  A heroic soldier who worked very hard to get where he was. Struggled a lot to be a warrior. He had a lot of difficulty with the Hebrew language but he didn't give up. And succeeded! Yesterday he fell at the Givat Assaf intersection. Israeli citizens,  I urge you to come and pay your last respects to him. He deserves it.  The funeral will take place today at 15:00 at Mount Herzl.

▪️IRAN BELIEVES.. An Iranian source: The Iranian missile attack in April was not really intercepted as described in the media.  Most of the missiles that were launched simply fell on the way and did not even reach the territory of Israel.  A month ago, several test launches of surface-to-surface missiles were carried out after undergoing upgrades/repairs.

▪️US FORCES WITHDRAWING.. US Secretary of Defense ordered the USS Roosevelt aircraft carrier battle group to leave the area. The destroyer USS Russell will also leave the area.

▪️NATIONAL BUDGET (1).. the Minister of Finance will propose to close five unnecessary government offices and propose that each of the coalition parties choose one of its ministries to close.

▪️NATIONAL BUDGET (2).. Finance Minister Smotrich presented the state budget for 2025. The budget will include NIS 160 billion for the war's security expenses, NIS 44 billion for civilian needs, and NIS 20 billion for reconstruction. In order to finance the budget, the Minister of Finance announced a series of measures, including cuts in government offices budgets, freezing Bituach Leumi benefits (pension, disability and poor) and raising the income tax.

▪️REAL OR FEAR MONGERING?  An official in southern Syria warns: "The Houthis are on their way to the Golan border, there are terror tunnels from Jordan."

▪️SWITZERLAND & UNRWA.. Swiss Parliament decided to stop funding UNRWA.

♦️TARGETED ELIMINATION - LEBANON.. 2 eliminated on a motorcycle in south Lebanon.

♦️TARGETED ELIMINATION - SAMARIA.. 3 eliminated in a strike overnight in Tulkarm on a car.  3 terrorists, at least some of whom are classified as senior, were successfully eliminated.

♦️SYRIA - COMMANDO RAID?  (Enemy reports - reliability is questionable but via multiple channels) during the unusual attack in the area of ​​Sayaf (מציאף, Masyaf), commando forces landed from helicopters and operated in the area. The forces operated in the area at the same time as heavy attacks that prevented access to the area.  Syria TV: Israeli helicopters landed forces in the area of ​​Mezaif with heavy air cover and captured 2 Iranians. 

( This is very far north in Syria, it would be surprising for Israel helicopters to operate that far into Syria. )

❗️INFILTRATION ALERT last night - Avnei Hefetz.. (Israeli town across the Green Line, near Tulkarm) infiltration alert, residents instructed to lock themselves indoors after a breach discovered in the fence.  Alert squad activated.

⭕ HEZBOLLAH ROCKET BARRAGE yesterday, over 100 rockets fired at northern towns yesterday.

[luciddaydreamsstuff]

Wanted to post more about this AU since it’s been on my mind for a bit, so here’s some info about the Daycare Attendants along with their work attire. Apologies for it this comes off as word vomit

Base Info: This au takes place after the events of Security Breach with the events of the Ruin DLC (mainly Bonnie and the Mimic) occurring months after the pizzaplex’s reconstruction in this au. Henry Emily doesn’t die in Pizza Sim and later (around his 70s) becomes the CEO of FazBear during the reconstruction of the pizzaplex. The virus upped the affected animatronics worse tendencies to 11 (Roxy’s confidence = narcissism, Monty’s anger = “punch first, ask never”, etc.)

Design: Not sure why, but when I saw Fizzarolli from Helluva Boss, his limbs were what I constantly imagined Sun and Moon having so they do. Sun has more rays to help flesh out his head while Moon has a longer night cap, because it looked nice. Both have moveable face plates however Moon’s expressions are more limited due to being nap time. I’ve seen people write about Sun and Moon having a chest cavity but never seen one explained or in a design, so it’s a bit more obvious that they have one. Moon’s chest cavity usually holds glow-in-the-dark moon and star stickers that are used during nap time and the cavity can switch out to a speaker where Moon can play music from. Sun also has a chest cavity (look at previous post about this au) which has six “drawers” allowing him to hold more items. Moon has both the wire cable and a floating mechanism while Sun just has the wire. It also may be harder to tell with my art but Moon is smaller than Sun. Sun has more bells than Moon due to his role as playtime, Moon has less because she doesn’t want to accidentally wake up the kids. Both attendants have wardrobes and have multiple outfits they can wear around kids. Moon’s face is more feminine due to some parents complaining about no female attendant in the daycare, so when Sun and Moon got a redesign, Moon’s face leaned more feminine while Sun’s leaned more masculine.

Sun: The older of the two. Sun had been affected with the virus, though it only made him more hyper and unhinged as he would accidentally bruised kids without knowing due to playing a bit too rough. After the virus was purged, Sun was a bit more mellowed out though he still will move around. Sun mostly deals with kids from preschool age to early middle school (6th grade specifically). Sun uses he/him pronouns and can get excited easily. Sun stands at 6’2. Sun’s outfit is more breathable and more active or sporty while still looking like a jester.

Moon: The younger of the two. Originally a last minute addition to the Daycare. Moon was fully affected by the virus, merging their security and nap time protocols together making her more irritable and hand out punishments more. After the virus was purged, Moon was more chill and calm like before the virus though his security protocols got upgraded to be on a timed schedule. Moon usually deals with slightly older kids from middle school to high school (7th to 12th) and will usually help kids with homework. Moon uses any and all pronouns (he/she/they) and despite being an introvert, loves hanging out with the children of the daycare. Moon stands at 5’10. Moon’s outfit is more poofy and soft to look more friendly.

Hopefully my ramblings are understandable, but also explain both the au slightly and some creative liberties I took when designing these two. I have more ideas that I’m more than happy to share

[honourablejester]

Okay, forgive me for rambling about my own writing, but I realised something today that I hadn’t actually noticed I’d done in Wings Over Gotham. I’ve had Bruce and Ivy percolating around my head while I’m thinking on the next chapter, and I finally noticed something I hadn’t realised previously because of where our POVs have been at.

Outside of the inner circle of the Council and the family, the people who know that Bruce and Batman are the same person, from the public point of view of the rest of the city, Gotham’s primary providers, the sources of material security both during and after NML, Bruce Wayne and Poison Ivy, are both auraless.

I didn’t actually notice this, because most of our POV characters know that Bruce Wayne is actually Batman and therefore incredibly, supernaturally alpha. But outside of the inner circle of the high level No Man’s Landers, most of Gotham as well as the mainland see him as functionally auraless, because Bruce Wayne’s aura has, to all appearances, been gutted to the point of non-existence.

And the thing is, I think that might actually have an interesting effect on how Ivy is viewed within the city. One that I don’t think she, or indeed most of the Council and family, will have noticed any more than I did, because they all also know Bruce Wayne is actually alpha and that fact is foundationally embedded in their worldview.

I’m so glad I brought Lois in, her interview with Paul Lukowski made me think about these things.

See, during NML, the circle of providers was actually a bit of everything. Jim and Leslie (incidentally, the two most traditionally alpha and omega of the Council) mostly provided services, medical care from Leslie and protection from Jim. The other three were the suppliers, and they were an even spread of an alpha, an omega, and Ivy’s uniquely auraless presence. And of the three of them, Ivy was arguably the most important. Both Bruce with his external supply line and Oswald with the fisheries had the hard bottlenecks of the minefield and WE’s strained financial viability the longer the quarantine dragged on. It was Ivy, Ivy and the farms, that they were all depending on for sustainability. So the No Man’s Land image and lynchpin of continuous survival was an auraless plant woman who considered herself soulless.

Then the quarantine ended, the government came roaring back in, and Gotham was forcibly reassimilated. And Ivy was forcibly removed from play, at least for the first couple of years while the Council fought to keep her out of Arkham as the most visibly ‘monstrous’ of the big players. She has come back since then, and most of Gotham’s underground support network, the one that runs parallel to the ‘official’ US systems, Croc’s people and anyone else who's slipped through the cracks, still functions around Ivy’s now scattered and hidden greenhouses. If they’re cut off again, they’ve prepared for Ivy to be able to get them back self-sustaining in a fraction of the time it took the first time. But the parts of the city that know that are much narrower and closer to the inner circle.

The person who stepped into the breach to provide more mainland-oriented material support for the city was Bruce Wayne, through Wayne Enterprises. Post-NML, WE is the backbone of Gotham’s economic landscape. The reconstruction of the city was done on Wayne’s dime, and most everyone in the city turns to WE before they’d ever turn to the government for help. The core of the city, the one everyone’s looking to for money to eat, is Bruce Wayne.

And Bruce Wayne is also auraless. As a function of damage, injury, rather than Ivy’s transformation and ‘monstrosity’, but still. The image of the city’s provider is still auraless.

I think Gotham as a whole, even the newer inhabitants post-NML, might be a lot more chill about Ivy’s lack of an aura than she really understands. Than any of the Council really understand. Lois saw a bit of it with Paul, who arrived in the first wave after the end of NML, and he’s pretty cool with the ‘soulless’ plant lady in the park who can eat armies. Human, inhuman, whatever. She’s cool if you don’t attack her, and if you’re starving she’s one of the ones who can help you out. Lots of people don’t have auras anymore around here! Hell, Bruce Wayne doesn’t either! And, you know. He’s the other person who’ll help you out if you’re stuck.

Ivy’s trauma about being soulless comes from her experiences prior to NML, after she first transformed, and the fact that she was the first target when the government back in, that she and her children were shot on sight for monstrosity, didn’t disabuse her of them any. Bruce falling back on his training from Ra’s after NML and hiding his aura as Bruce so that he could draw a line between Bruce Wayne and Batman and keep functioning as both … She gets the necessity, and he didn’t play the innocent son, he did publicly maintain his outspoke loyalty to Gotham and to her, but he did also hide his ‘monstrosity’, his titanic aura, in a way that she can’t, and he escaped a degree of persecution because of it in a way that she and Croc in particular weren’t able to. She knows he’s alpha, and she knows his lack of an aura is a pretence, not a reality, and it’s one that he used to escape persecution, not one that made him a target of it. So she … I don’t think she (or Bruce) are in a position to realise that it may have also inadvertently helped her as well. Because she doesn’t think of Bruce as auraless. But a lot of the rest of the city does.

And as a result, to a lot of Gotham right now, despite how extremely aura-orientated Gotham is compared to the mainland, the lack of an aura doesn’t automatically mean soullessness or monstrosity, or at least no more than Gotham in general means those things. To an extent, it might even be an image of safety, a source of security. For the NML survivors, and anyone since then who’s slipped down to Gotham’s underworld where she’s still the bedrock, the source, the hearth, all through Ivy’s own efforts. But even in the wider, more ‘civilised’ parts of the city, because of Bruce Wayne. Lack of an aura is a wound, a source of pity, but it doesn’t automatically make someone monstrous. Hence Jason’s kneejerk bafflement that she thinks she doesn’t have a soul. He hasn’t examined his reliance on aura much, but he still had an instinctive Gotham recognition that Ivy’s lack of aura didn’t equate to a lack of a soul. And I think a lot more of the city has that kneejerk, unexamined exception as well than Ivy imagines.

I’m having so much fun with how Gotham has evolved post-NML to be both extremely aura-dependent and almost exaggeratedly traditional when it comes to alpha and omega, at least to outside eyes, and the more complicated internal reality where they’ve both carried a lot of internal prejudices and worldviews from before NML forward (Ivy’s ‘soullessness’, Oswald and Jim’s complicated views on alpha-driven organisations, Bruce’s training under Ra’s), but also warped or abandoned huge chunks of them and forged completely new pieces through the crucible of the quake and the quarantine and the aftermath. Sometimes without realising it. Things that are perfectly apparent to Jason or Dick or Paul Lukowski, having been born/arrived after the fact, are invisible to the Council because their worldview was partially shaped before the quake and they don’t always notice the ways they’ve strayed from that. Or reinforced it.

But. Ah. Apologies for random meta on my own dang story, I just … didn’t actually notice I’d done that. Heh. Bruce Wayne/Batman is so extraordinarily alpha in my head, I hadn’t actually tracked the implications of the fact that most of the city don’t know that and see him as primarily auraless since the end of the quarantine.

[abboudlawfirm-omaha]

What do you need to make an injury claim?

When you’ve been injured because of someone else’s negligence, you might feel overwhelmed and unsure about how to proceed. Whether you’ve experienced a car accident, a slip and fall, or another type of personal injury, understanding the steps to make an injury claim is vital. This guide will walk you through the essentials of filing a claim and highlight how a personal injury attorney can support your case.

The Role of a Personal Injury Attorney in Your Case

A personal injury attorney is an invaluable ally when pursuing a claim. They bring specialized knowledge and experience to help you navigate legal complexities, negotiate with insurance companies, and secure fair compensation. Here’s how they can assist:

Providing Legal Guidance

Your attorney will explain your rights, clarify the legal process, and outline the steps you need to take. With their expertise, you’ll gain a clear understanding of the laws that apply to your case and how best to approach it.

Establishing Causation

Proving that the other party’s negligence caused your injuries is critical. Your attorney will gather and present evidence such as:

Witness statements

Police reports

Photographs or videos from the accident scene

Demonstrating the Impact of Your Injuries

Long-term or severe injuries require a thorough demonstration of their impact on your life. A personal injury attorney can compile:

Medical Records: Documenting the treatments you’ve received and future medical needs.

Life Care Plans: Highlighting ongoing care requirements and associated costs.

Expert Testimony: Leveraging medical or accident reconstruction specialists to validate your claim.

Essential Elements of an Injury Claim

To build a strong personal injury claim, several key components must be in place:

1. Proof of Negligence

Negligence occurs when another party fails to act reasonably, leading to harm. Establishing negligence involves demonstrating:

Duty of Care: The other party had an obligation to act responsibly.

Breach of Duty: They failed to meet this obligation.

Causation: Their actions directly caused your injuries.

Damages: You suffered measurable harm as a result.

2. Medical Documentation

Accurate medical records are crucial for substantiating your claim. These include:

Diagnosis and Treatment Records: Outlining the extent of your injuries.

Medical Bills: Detailing all related expenses.

Prognosis Reports: Estimating future medical needs and costs.

3. Evidence of Financial Loss

To secure appropriate compensation, you must document your financial losses, such as:

Lost wages or diminished earning capacity

Expenses for rehabilitation or assistive devices

Other injury-related costs

4. Personal Testimony

Your personal account, as well as statements from family and friends, can help illustrate how the injury has impacted your daily life. This can be supported further with:

Journals documenting your recovery journey

Statements describing changes in your physical and emotional well-being

Deciding Between Settlement and Litigation

One of the significant decisions in your claim is whether to settle out of court or pursue litigation. Both approaches have their benefits and challenges:

Settling Out of Court

Pros: Faster resolution, reduced stress, and fewer legal expenses.

Cons: May result in lower compensation, and the settlement is typically final.

Going to Court

Pros: A jury verdict may lead to higher compensation and punitive damages.

Cons: Trials can be time-consuming, expensive, and emotionally taxing.

Your attorney will help you weigh these options and determine the best course of action for your situation.

How to Get Started with Your Injury Claim

If you’re ready to take the first step toward securing compensation, here’s what you need to do:

Step 1: Seek Medical Attention

Your health is the top priority. Even if your injuries seem minor, seek medical evaluation to ensure proper documentation and treatment.

Step 2: Collect Evidence

Gather evidence related to the incident, including:

Photos or videos of the scene

Contact information for witnesses

Police or incident reports

Step 3: Consult a Personal Injury Attorney

An experienced attorney can provide personalized advice, handle communications with insurance companies, and ensure your rights are protected.

Step 4: File Your Claim

With your attorney’s assistance, file the necessary paperwork and submit the required documentation to initiate your claim.

Step 5: Negotiate or Litigate

Your attorney will negotiate with insurance companies on your behalf. If a fair settlement cannot be reached, they will prepare your case for court.

Overcoming Challenges in Personal Injury Claims

While the process can seem straightforward, various challenges may arise, such as:

1. Shared Fault

If you’re partially at fault for the incident, your compensation may be reduced. Your attorney can help mitigate the impact of shared responsibility.

2. Pre-Existing Conditions

Having a pre-existing condition doesn’t disqualify you from compensation. However, proving the current injury’s impact can be complex. Your attorney can address these concerns effectively.

3. Dealing with Insurance Companies

Insurance adjusters may attempt to minimize your claim. An attorney ensures that negotiations are fair and focused on securing maximum compensation.

Conclusion

Making an injury claim doesn’t have to be an overwhelming experience. With the support of an experienced personal injury attorney, you can navigate the process confidently, ensuring your rights are upheld, and your future is secure.

Contact an Omaha personal injury attorney today if you’re in Omaha and seeking guidance. They will listen to your story, help you understand your options, and work tirelessly to secure the compensation you deserve. Don’t wait—reach out now to start your journey toward justice and recovery.

[nezumithewriter]

Blaire sounds so interesting— what’s the world she in like? Is it normal for strange anthro creatures to be there or is her form more played as a reveal as the villian?

Also what musicals does she like agsjbdkdm

oh yeah no it is not normal for her to be a furry in the slightest

see, once upon a time there was this scientific research facility focused on finding various cures to different ailments, such as cancer or genetic conditions. It was called Helianus, based on a sunflower, because they're always looking to the light of the sun and the future. Very cool very demure

There were three scientists working there at the time, named Eric Keller, Henry Siloh, and Beatrice Mayweather, who I have drawn here after her polycule fell apart and all her friends died but that's for later

the three were fairly inseparable, with Henry and Beatrice being some of the best researchers at the facility. Beatrice especially was able to stumble across a compound that could reconstruct human DNA, but she was hesitant to try it on human subjects. On animal subjects, or showed some promise, but not without heavily altering the genetic makeup of the animal and turning them into a goopy mess that often dissolved into puddles weeks later. She named the compound FR-024-S and continued experimenting on it with Henry, who found it incredibly interesting.

Blaire was just an up and coming researcher when she went to grab something from a shelf in a dark room and accidentally knocked a couple vats of the stuff on top of her.

Some screaming and crying later and security finds her on her hands and knees, shaking, surrounded by shattered glass, and as a weird gazelle thing.

After making sure she wasn't about to bite anyone's head off, she was walked out and interviewed by staff, where the full extent of her transformation was made clear. She was healthier, for one, and also happier about her impromptu fursona, despite some lingering feelings of hunger. She also exhibited the ability to shapeshift parts of her body and, given that she had no injuries from the broken glass, was immune lacerations and bruising, which i'm sure won't come back to bite Helianus in the ass later.

Knowing this, Blaire was put back on as an assistant researcher to Beatrice as the facility put more energy into studying FR-024-S. Henry became more interested in the project, while Eric seemed slightly hesitant. Maybe it was the way that Blaire looked at everyone with hungry eyes that set him off. Oh well I'm sure this subtle foreshadowing doesn't mean anything.

(Henry receives a gift from Blaire at some point, and Eric makes a phone call.)

Several inhumane experiments later and a lot of regret buried under the idea that this was all going to a good cause, one of the experiments somehow escape (nobody has seen this one before hmmmm) and kills someone before escaping. The day after, Helianus conveniently finds out that Eric was leaking information to another company and ask Henry to deal with it, since it was him that found out Eric was doing it, after all.

Beatrice watched through a window as Eric contorted and turned into a small creature that didn't look at all similar to a human. There was nothing behind those beady eyes.

A week later, and the breach starts. Blaire had really tried to keep her cravings in check but girls gotta eat, and so do all of the other creatures she tricked Beatrice into making.

Security can stop it, and the only solution Helianus can see to stop the experiments from escaping is a full facility lockdown, trapping the creatures, Blaire, and any staff unfortunate enough to still be in the building inside, below the ground.

Henry goes missing. Beatrice hides in her office with a taser, the only thing she knows can hurt the experiments.

Blaire lets her live, taunting her through the window.

In the actual story and not this backstory, she's able to mimic people's voices, and your only communication with her is through a walkie talkie while she's pretending to be, so yeah i guess it's kind of a reveal. She'd only show up in person near the end methinks. anyways here's some art of her living her best life

her favorite musical is Chicago

[fizzymxcha]

Hello FNAF fandom! If you like roleplay, and wanna have some fun, come join my server!!

You can find the actual ad on disboard! There are a lot of things to explore and talk about, and we have a very welcoming community. It may be small right now, but we hope it grows to be much more! Come join me and my friends in 'Security Breach: Reconstructed'!

discord.gg/8duf6S5722

[mommyofkittens]

A Court of Fallen Heroes: Chapter 6 - Decisions. Part II. ( +18! )

Prythian

Author's POV:

          To Azriel's dismay, it took three whole days for the witch's stench to dissipate almost completely from his skin. He changed several rows of clothes, most of which he gave to the people who suffered after the war. During his little free time, he volunteered to go and help reconstruct buildings, where strong men for tough work were needed. He even found some time to go and make other pairs of suits at his favorite tailor. It was quite difficult to find attires in his measurements, so he resorted to other methods

          It almost always happened in the middle of a training session to find his pants ripped between his wide thighs or to wake up with the sleeves of his shirts too short. Or maybe they were too narrow to fit the entire base of his wings. He took even his Illyrian skins to be adjusted. There were far too many belts and laces to do and undo, so he tried to make everything as comfortable as possible for his spymaster duties.

          In the few days when the amber seemed to dissipate into the air around him with every beating of his heart, Azriel had the urge to replace the skin from his bones. It felt like rubbing sand against him. A strident odor that unfazed his senses, weakening his spy assets. He felt desperate.

          It was pathetic how such a little problem threw his cosiness upside down. Maybe it was so derranging because he wasn't used to the smell. It was uncommon for this places, so it ruined his routine, his rules. Maybe it was the fact that it remembered him of his failure from the Summer Solstice night. Or only the mere thought that a witch's odor imprinted on him, and not the flowery one he wanted. 

          But, to his dismay, it looked like his entire body had been submerged in a cauldron of amber. It wasn't going away so easy.

          Of course, the rational part of his brain knew that it was very likely that the lack of sleep drove him crazy. But it was not in his nature to deceive himself. He was a master of concentration and self-control, but this breach in security sat like an abscess on his nerves.

          Not only had someone been clever enough to get past the sophisticated protection of Velaris, but apparently he'd made both the magic of the house and his shadows submissive. If she was capable of such control over immaterial things, he didn't want to know what she could do with material ones.

          Azriel's blemished fingers traced his tanned temples. The ambiental temperature became too hot for his strict preferences and the darkness that cocooned the chamber unsettled him. With a few large steps he crossed the room and pushed aside the heavy, blue cotton curtains, then opened the windows wide.

          A shy breeze blew through his white, linen shirt, caressing his intercostal muscles and exposed collarbones, then kissed the rounded tattoos on his neck. With the help of his sensitive and trained hearing, he perceived the voices downstairs and the muffled laughters from the city. The precipitous atmosphere had subsided and Velaris fell back into comfort and routine.

          Barefoot, the Shadowsinger made his way back to the cluttered office, looking at the diagrams and information he gathered. He already passed the time limit Rhysand gave him to make up his mind. Even so, they both already knew the answer to the challenge. It was a matter of time until he was going to put into action what he decided to do. Azriel couldn't wait any longer, he couldn't ignore or pass on the mission when another war was knocking at their door. No one knew between who the final battle was to be fought and what the costs were.

          His brunette eyebrows joined on his elegant forehead. The longer strands of hair casted shadows over his handsome cheekbones, giving him a ruffled look. The man's gaze remained locked on the candle flame, whole drops of wax had spilled over the clay plate and dried on the black furniture.

          Azriel couldn't give up on anyone inside the Inner Circle. They barely found eachother. No one would die at the end. He could leave this role to anyone else, but not his family. Even if he sacrificed another life. Yes, he was capable to make this decision. If the price of peace was this " Vesper ", if she had to learn to fight, endure and win, then he was more than satisfied to find her and let her do her duty, with the cost of her life.

          Not even his own ghosts could stop him. After all, who was he running from? Who was he so afraid of? He faced enemies far greater than a poor, ambitious witch, he suffered wounds far worse than the overpowering smell of amber, and on top of that, she entered the house on his watch.

          A smile stained his plump lips. Azriel stood up decisively from the table, signed a few papers in a hurry and then arranged them in piles. Discipline, that's what he was going to teach the little thief. Order, discipline and pain. Especially the last one.

          But, before leaving on the mission, he must take care of a part inside that was grinding him. The primal part that was making him unpredictable and aggressive.

          Azriel knew who was to blame for the way his blood seemed to rush through his body, to his pants. He tried too many times to give himself some satisfaction and now he'd come to the opinion that his hands were not enough. Neither the small tortures he'd submitted himself for more pleasure, nor the games of edging and denying his climax. Nothing was enough. He wanted to fuck it out of his system.

          The man stopped visiting brothels for some time and that was just out of self-esteem. Besides, he didn't need to pay any woman to approach him. It was enough to go out to Rita's or take a leisurely walk in the evening and someone would surely be there to make sweet eyes at him.

          But now, he didn't feel like hanging around or waiting, his patience was gone, an unusual and dangerous thing for a man in his line of work. Azriel didn't have anyone to torture to release his anxiety from his belly, and we couldn't go into the ring now that Cassian was still praying for Nesta to join him in training. Rhysand had avoided giving him any more missions just to give him enough time to think about what mattered. Either that or he wanted to torment him long enough with boredom.

          He quickly took off his tunic and pants, then snapped his fingers, preparing his bath. Lately, he was boiling his water so much that he went dizzy, with visions along the way. Azriel rubbed his skin until it started to turn red. It was the only way to get rid of the smell of blood, torture and amber. It wasn't as if he couldn't stand a little discomfort, he was trained to withstand much more than a tiny violent wash.

         The steam floated inside the marble bathroom, creating bodies and faces. The Shadowsinger realised it was time to get up and satisfy his last need before giving Rhysand the good news. He lingered for a few moments, curious about what his own consciousness could shape this time.

          A brave shadow snaked out of nowhere, and leaned over the edge of the tub, watching curiously. A more playful one danced near Azriel's wet body, waltzing through the smoky vapors. 

          It wasn't anything new. For the most part, there were just scenes from his past: fights, the cellar he was imprisoned in, sometimes even Elain. He gritted his teeth as the eager heat surged lower than he would've liked to admit, burning like hot coals beneath his tight muscles.

          The molten gold inside his irirses sensed the slight shift from the white clouds. He ran his wet palm over his face to make sure that what he saw was real. She was not the woman of his fantasies, he was sure of it. It was a stranger, with her head almost the size of his palm. Azriel's interest hiked when he recognized her features. Or at least that's what he felt. His instincts told him that he'd seen her somewhere. It wasn't her face, but her eyes seemed to speak to Azriel: Big, round and sad.

          " Wake up. "

          Had it really been her voice that shook him out of the trance?

          A few shadows jumped to his aid, memorizing the shape of her oval face before the vapors dissipated: a pair of round cheeks, one of them stained with a birthmark. thick and slightly arched eyebrows, a small nose in the middle and two full lips, with a defined cupid's bow. Stunned, Azriel realized the contradiction. This might not be the same person who sneaked inside their house after all, but someone else. Her human traits were at the opposite direction than the ones of a witch: curvier rather than arched, softer, not sour, life radiated from her, not the stench of death.

          This girl... Could she be the female he's looking for? Vesper? But if so, why was he the one to see it?

          With a slick movement, Azriel stood up from the tub, leaving the water to fall in waves on his stiff body. His joints still ached from his rough training. He made his way back to the desk, undressed and dripping. Azriel used his powers to sketch the portrait of the unknown woman on a blank sheet of paper, then put it in the folder prepared for the trip.

          Yes, the Shadowsinger made his homework even if he initially refused the quest.

          Downstairs, the voices grew louder. He could hear Rhys's mannered tone and Morrigan's sensual one, then Feyre's soft laughter.

          Azriel dried his body, then changed into a casual evening suit. He chose a navy blue tunic and a pair of trousers, that he could easily take off if needed, tailored to hug his strong thighs. Azriel's mouth curled in a small grin. He put on his black, leather boots and ran his long fingers through his still damp hair to dry it in the place he liked. When it came to perfume, that was an easy decision to make: something fresh, earthy, lile rain hitting the pine cones.

          Dark smoke played between his ankles as he was preparing to leave. Out of habit, he checked his antechamber where his desk and cupboards with his own volumes of books were. Anxiety rose in his chest when that gentle face looked back at him from the slightly damp paper.

          Who are you? Azriel spoke for himself and his companions. Sharp tongues of darkness curled helplessly on his shoulders, trying to comfort him.

          The answer seemed unknown even for them.

          Azriel crossed the wide hall with silent steps. The faelights lit the high ceiling, making the golden ornaments to spark. Heavy, carved doors layed closed, one after the other, shielding the empty rooms behind them. The Spymaster looked through the huge stained window at the bottom of the stairs, admiring the playful lights of the city.

          Tomorrow at dawn he was leaving to find that woman. An ace in their sleeve or a hatchet above their heads.

         Once in the living room, he nodded towards Nuala and Cerridwen and poured a glass of red wine from Rhysand's collection. It seemd that his brother was determined to make him go on that mission just by taking out his favorite bottle from the cellar.

      " Azriel! " Feyre began, decorating her elegant face with a sincere smile, "I had no idea you were here too. I thought you were staying in the House of Wind until you finished your research on the Mortal Queens. "   

          Her thin eyebrows arched higher on her forehead, almost meeting the hairline. She was wearing a simple makeup that brought out her tanned complexion.

          " It seems my brother has finally made up his mind. " Rhysand sang, lifting a corner of his mouth, " You wanted to surprise me? "

          His High Lord smirk turned into a smile. Azriel noticed the coincidence. The young couple wore almost the same attire: Feyre in a black dress, embellished with silver stars around her neck and shoulders, and Rhysand in a loose suit, sewn with the same type of thread, but the stars where around his sleeves.

          As they both sat, pressed against each other on the mahogany, velvet sofa that reigned in the living room, they looked royal, untouchable.

          Azriel felt droplets of jealousy staining his confidence.

          Morrigan sat on the other side of the room, cushioned by big, fluffy pillows. Her long legs were hanging over the armchair, playfully taking on and off her red sandals.

          " I've made up my mind, yes. " Azriel stated, swirling the alcohol in his glass and admiring the bouquet of flowers. " But I have one condition... "

          The Shadowsinger went to his eternal place, near the window and made himself comfortable. In the 500 years since he knew his brothers, there were frequent fights over seats, so each one made a sacrifice. In the end, the way they sat remained the same since they remodeled the room. He absentmindedly looked around the familiar chamber and let loose a breath when he no longer felt the traces of magic.

          " Anything, as long as you accept. " Rhysand said firmly, resting his elbows on his knees.

          " I'll go alone. " Azriel concluded stoically, finishing his last sip of wine.

          " It can't be. You need me in Hybern. " Mor spoke for the first time, one of her slippers falling noisily on the wool carpet. " I can help you get inside, I can help you out, I have some acquintances where you can lay low if needed. "

          " Give me some credits, Morrigan. I can get inside as easily as you can. I can't risk your life too. I know what I have to do and on top of that, I'll be better on my own. "

         " Are you saying I'm a liability? " The blonde woman raised her thin eyebrows at him. " Sometimes I think you forget who you're talking to. "

         Azriel felt a smoldering flame ignite in his stomach. He looked her frankly in her blue eyes. Mor backed away quickly.

         Something ruptured between the two of them the moment she admitted to Feyre that she liked women. The Shadowsinger had never felt so stupid. Only then did he realized how easily certain feelings could blind him. It got to the point where he could completely ignore everything around him for the sake of an illusion. He never managed his positive emotions, he thrived in a deathly, mortuary stillness. Azriel was better when he had to make cold, rational decisions, and his patience was his greatest asset.

          Morrigan fumbled in her armchair. She brushed a strand of her splendid hair behind her ear and looked away

          " I know who you are. You're third in command in the Night Court and Rhysand's emissary for a reason, but you're also my family. Right now, you have more important things on your mind than finding a simple woman. " Azriel explained, linking his long fingers to his abdomen.

          Rhysand nodded and slammed a piece of paper on the table. " As neither Montessere nor Vallahan want peace, we have to find another solution. "

          Azriel eyed the treaty now thrown on the table. It had taken Helion's entire library to compose it. " Make peace with a kingdom whose king we just killed? "

          " Might not be the brightest idea, but it's a safe pass for you inside. "

          " Well, if it works and you don't get hurt the moment you set foot in Hybern... " Feyre contemplated, when Amren opened the front door and greeted them with a macabre smile. " But, they don't want to sign the treaty? "

          " No. Those ancient creatures and pirates are too slick and too full of money to accept such a deal. " The little devil added, then poured herself a glass of wine, " Besides, it's below their level to associate with humans and lesser fae.  "

          Cassian appeared shortly after Amren, with a docile Nesta following close behind. Azriel silently watched the tension between the two and remained silent.

           " I've already gave you a heads up about the comet, that Vesper. " Rhysand said, standing up and positioning himself protectively behind Feyre. He gave Nesta a nasty look then eyed Cassian, " You look good, brother. "

          " I'm trying. You're talking about the human comet? " Cassian grinned, leaning his shoulder against the stairwell, " That's one hell of a woman: you fell from the sky, you don't die, then a bunch of people try to capture you and use you for something you might die. "

          The older Archeron sister came closer to the main table, listening. Her dark grey dress held her shoulders tight together and her spine as stiff as a sword.

           " That sums it up. " Rhysand joked lightly.

          " We don't know what her role is at the moment. If the armies of Hybern can rise at any moment, we need as many aces up our sleeve as possible," Amren concluded, claiming a seat on a couch opposite Rhysand and Feyre.

          Nesta looked at her coldly, measuring her from head to toe, " Is this another innocent being you want to use for your own good? "

          Cassian let out a labored breath and scanned her out of the corner of his eye, but it was Amren who spoke before him. " I hope not. The Human Lands are in great danger. We are the only one willing to ally with them and protect them. We are put at risk. "

           Determined, Azriel stood up drawing all the attention to him. " When I get back I'll dig deeper into all this flirtation between the Queens and the Autumn Court. I'm leaving tomorrow morning. It will take me a day or two to get to the west shore, then probably a few more before I manage to find the right village."

          " In which one will you stay overnight? " Mor asked, already listing in her head the acquaintances she could reach to.

          " If all goes well enough, I'll probably survey two villages a day and stop in the third. "

           " Be careful. Three of them surround the kingdom. You'll be very close to the palace. " Amren warned him while cleaning her red fingernails.

           " Don't worry about wings or laws. If anyone asks, you're just a messenger. Everyone knows you as my spymaster, so as long as you don't kill anyone, you'll be safe. " Rhysand explained as he look at everyone around. " I've prepared for you a peace treaty similar to the one made for Montessere. "

          " That won't take away the stares and insults you'll get for killing their king. " Feyre interjected, somewhat tense.

          " I prepared a potion for you. " Amren stood up and handed him a small velvet bag. " The moment you feel in danger just break the bottle and you'll be automatically teleported here. This is an extreme case where maybe your powers are blocked... "

          " Perhaps it would be better if he hid his wings. " Cassian's hoarse tone was thick with fear.

          " It won't help. Everyone knows how the famous Shadowsinger looks like. " Nesta finally spoke, from the corner where she had retreated. " That means you have to hide your face too. "

          " That's why I told you that I should come with you. I can get the information easier. I can sense the truth. " Mor countered, sulking at Azriel's decision to exclude her from the mission.

          " My shadows are as effective as your gift, Morrigan. Besides, I'd say I'm pretty good at extracting information from people. " Azriel's shadows swirled around his shoulders, loyal companions ready to strike.

          " No, no, don't go around torturing people. " Rhysand flinched and waved an arm in the air.

          " I'm not going to. I was proving my point. " Azriel nearly rolled his eyes at Rhysand's affected gesture.

          " Keep the wings. It's a warning for everyone trying to do you wrong. " Amren suggested, a wicked smile written on her thin lips.

          " Now if you'll excuse me. I have something to solve before I leave tomorrow. " Azriel bowed his head and went to the door.

          " Take care of you. " Feyre said, keeping her hands tight against her dress.

          Cassian patted him on the shoulder before looking at Nesta.

          A slight melancholy made Azriel take a deep breath. It was always tough leaving them behind, thinking that maybe he won't come back.

          This is what Rhysand had to live with for fifty years, only faith keeping him on tracks.

          He looked back at his family, their faces full of hope, of expectation and concern. The spymaster could excel in any field of work where his presence was necessary, but with all the pressure of the war pressing on him, with all the tension enveloping him in a tight cocoon, he couldn't disappoint them. He had to get his hands on this woman and bring her safely to Velaris, then Rhysand and Feyre would know what to do, and he could retire from his role as babysitter.

          Not that the one of a chaperone would fit him better.

          Walking towards the crowded streets of the wonderful city, a strange emotion of impatience knotted in his lower stomach, pulling him into a narcotic state of excitement. Danger turned him on, sharpened his senses, that's why he loved his work and did it without regrets. Being an executioner, it wasn't something that aroused him, but it gave him enough satisfaction and pleasure, feeding on someone else's suffering.

          He passed by the many pleasure houses that were located in a more obscure part of Velaris. The streets here were bathed in safe darkness, where people could satisfy their needs in peace, covered only by the languid night sky.

          His sensitive ears caught a few jerky gasps and moans immersed in pleasure. Azriel rubbed his teeth together, clenching and unclenching his fists. There were no inhibitions here, only desire.

       The Shadowsinger never liked to reach this point of despair. That doesn't mean that in the past he hadn't satisfied his desires with anyone who came his way and was eager to ride a man with wings. In fact, many times he didn't even took into account that he shared a room with Rhysand and Cassian. He gave himself free rein to his fantasies with the woman who fell into his trap. Somehow, he managed to stir the primal impulses in his brothers as well and they ended up sharing the female.

          In his youth, his sex drive was much higher than any of his brothers, mostly due to the fact that he'd been locked up and had not managed to discover his sexuality until much too late. As he got older and realized what he preferred in terms of women, what fantasies excited him and how he liked to do it, he'd become very strict. First of all, he refused to share his women. Of course, his brothers could have the females after he was done with them, and very rarely did he end up having a threesome with Cassian or Rhysand and a woman willing to accept them.

          Secondly, he no longer went to the famous pleasure houses, he'd come to disgust the lightness with which many accepted him. Azriel despised the easyness of some, preferring instead to let his primal instincts rule, to hunt his women, and not just any women, but only those cold enough at heart, the mean ones, those who wanted just sex, hard , bruising, no strings attached sex.

          The Spymaster was by nature too methodical and too focused to allow himself to be distracted by anyone. He didn't follow a certain diet, but he trained in a rigid and ruthless way, he liked discipline and efficiency in absolutely everything that surrounded him. His sexual life included.

           That's why he had Victoria or Tory, as she called herself when she was working. She was well trained to allow him to maintain the amount of control over their relationship that he sought. She understood what he liked and how he liked it and never asked unnecessary questions, unless he allowed her to discuss personal things. ' ' Relationship ' was a big word to use for the attraction between them, it was just a physical transaction that kept them both close enough, but at the same time far enough so that his family was not included.

          When he appeared in front of the luxurious brothel, a few scrutinizing eyes followed his steps inside. It was unusual to see him enter such a place, especially as he exuded self-confidence and demanding masculinity through every pore. He slid effortlessly through tables and tables full of empty bottles and semi-nude people, searching for the one he needed. Azriel didn't even bother to look at the ones around, he just made his way to the torch of bright red hair that was spinning on a table littered with glasses.

          A handful of drooling men watched her swaying movements with lewd eyes. Azriel towered over them from behind, studying Tory wide hips and muscular thigs. She looked dangerous, with fox eyes and thin lips, like a mythical creature ready to eat your soul.

           The music chords were so erotic that the crowd didn't even bother to reach the specially arranged bedrooms, beginning the dirty job right here, in the huge room. Faelights were dimmed so that the faces of many were hidden in shadow, a sensual ambience playing among the heated bodies.

          Azriel felt his skin itchy. He grimaced when he encountered the sea of intoxicating and heavy smells. The man hated other people's sweat, feeling them rubbing against his fresh clothes, seeing some of theirs dirty faces buried in some girls breasts. He grimaced at the sound of skin against skin, someone's balls hitting one of this girls's asses.

          He raised his noble face to the thin body of his bed partner and extended his scarred hand. She smiled boldly at him and downed the last drop of alcohol from the glass. The man grabbed her by her narrow waist, lifting her smoothly and placing her back on the marble floor. Her skin burned where Azriel touched her through the cheap, translucent material of her dress.

           " I knew you'd come back. " The viperin woman whispered close to his neck, then pulled his shirt aside to bite his collarbone.

          The Shadowsinger gave her a menacing look and led her through the sea of heated bodies. Tory licked her lips, intoxicated by the fresh taste of his skin. She thought it was better than any type of wine or hard liquor from the brothel.

          She rearranged her gaping dress over her large breasts and followed him obediently. Azriel's hand was big and warm and felt safe like that, wrapped around her slim fingers. His calloused thumbs scratched her soft, creamed palm, sending a bolt of electricity through her already excited body.

          The woman scanned his tanned nape, covered in swirling tattoos that rippled down to his ribs and his majestic illyrian wings that she was never allowed to touch. Tory knew his divine body as well as her own. She would never admit it, but Azriel was her favorite customer. Although he used her, just like everyone else did, she appreciated the respect he gave her before, during and after they fucked, as well as his cold tenderness that somehow soothed her sadness.

          She knew his tastes: he never choosed the sweeter, softer women around the house, the ones with warm hearts and pretty, pleading eyes. He ran away from the petite ones like they were poisoned. Tory knew why: he was to afraid they could get attached, that they couldn't handle his manners, his size. And who wouldn't? She almost fell for him every time they met. Azriel's presence felt like the forbbiden powder she took before she came to work. She couldn't stop chasing him, feeding off of his precise touches, of his burning skin, of his sombre eyes. Tory wasn't in love with him, but she loved his persona, more than she would like to admitt.

          During the days he wouldn't visit, she felt everything bland, the meat seemed unseasoned, the air felt thick, the world was grey. Azriel was the salt and pepper, the aroma of pine trees and summer nights and the blue haze everything was missing.

          Tory guessed that's why he always came after her when he wanted to lett off some steam. She drew a line between work and love: he preffered the fact that she fucked rougher, colder, calculated and she loved the pain that he brought to her sometimes.

          Entering the safety of their favorite dark room, Tory already felt her juices leaking from her little panties. They couldn't even be called panties, they were covering little to nothing from her shaved pussy. There was only a thin string between her ass cheeks and a small triangle on her clitoris.

          When Azriel finally turned around to watch her, she felt his burning amber irises tearing her see-through dress to shreds. Tory felt her insecurities leave her body under his severe gaze. This man always had this effect on her, making her feel like she was the goddess in the room, not him, like she was in control over the situation, not his presence. She had the power.

          " Take your pretty dress off for me, Tory. " He demanded, his rough voice making her legs shake and her nipples hard.

          Azriel wasted no time and she hurried to achieve his wish, working to undo the golden circle on her shoulder that kept her grey dress on.

          " Easy... " Azriel instructed, tilting his head to the side, exploring her body curves through the translucent material.

          Tory admired his painful beauty for afar: the dark blue complimenting his brunette features, his soft hair falling on his forehead, his strong forearms and veiny, long fingers. He was carved from the gods. A deadly temptation among this world.

          His lazy gaze become predatory when she managed to pull her dress at her navel, freeing her nipples for him. The Shadowsinger made a step towards her and pulled her hair to the back, leaving her on full display for him. He traced the back of his hand between the valley of her full breasts, watching her bite her lower lip.

          Tory's skin ached at the barely tactile sensation of his cotton shirt over her pink, oversensitive rosy buds. The woman angled her head upward, searching his numb expression for any available emotion for her. Tory wasn't short, she had a pair of legs many other females envied, but with him watching over her, a handfull of centimeters between them, she felt tiny under his scrutinizing eyes. Azriel could crumble her in his agile hands.

          The woman let a breath escape her thin lips, already full of desire. She barely met him, less than ten minutes ago, and she was already eager to jump on his cock like a profesional horse rider. He never even touched her in a sexual manner, only took her hand to lead her to the dormitory like a sly gentleman. She didn't dare to drag her thumbs along his beautifull features either, too afraid that he would end all of this in a second.

          Tory worked to unclasp the second ring then let the material fall around her feet. The small golden bracellett around her ankle rang when she stepped out of the circle. Her conscience told her that she should feel ashamed for the obscene pair of panties she was wearing, a millimeter piece of red lace, but her thoughts flew away the second she noticed Azriel's appreciative figure.

          She knew he was dirty, she knew he loved skimpy little lingerie under elegant dresses, she knew he liked to dream of what was under a woman's clothes and she knew he loved to undress a woman with only his eyes.

          " Good. " His soft whisper came in a baritonal note as he sat in the plush sofa, right in front of the bed. " Make yourself comfortable, I want to see you pleasure yourself tonight. "

          As exciting as the proposal was, Tory felt a little dissapointed that she was, in fact, not going to ride anything tonight.

          With only a small, ambrose tinted candle to light the large room, Azriel was half enveloped in shadows, like a ominous presence looming over. His lustful mouth curled upward in a viperin smile, like he could see it all on her face, " Be patient. We'll get there later. "

          She could only count on one hand the times she got to devour those full lips.

          Tory bit her inner cheek hard, tasting the blood on her tongue and she climbed the high bed painfully slow, making a show of her perfectly tanned body and her bouncy, round ass. The woman learned a few sessions later that he prefered a handfull of asscheeks rather than big breasts, even if he always gave them the same amount of attention. As she finally sat between the black silk sheets, her thong rubbed painfully against her.

          " Spread your legs for me. " His order made her bones shiver and she complied, bending on her elbows to give him a view as fruitful as possible.

" Wider. " Azriel's tone was so low, so dark, that she barely heard him. " Move your panties to the side. They look cute on you. "

          Tory's cheeks burned red with ecstasy. She snaked a slim hand down on her thin abdomen and pushed the tiny material enough to let him see her pink sex, leaking for him. Her heady scent morphed with his strong, pine-like perfume and hit her nose. Azriel's tongue brushed his lips, wetting them. He never ate any of the women out, she could understand why, she had the splendid opportunity to be devoured by the Shadowsinger only once.

          It was a godly experience.

          A new wave of heat ruptured through her tummy and she circled her clitoris, gathering the wettnes. She whimpered lowly, her breating becoming uneven. Tory imagined his calloused fingers instead, every edge and every scarr bringing a new spark of pleasure. She bucked against her white, velvety fingers and moaned. Azriel's eyes watched every motion of her wrist like a hunter, wary of how her body reacted to her touches.

          " Put two fingers inside your cunt. " He shifted in the chair, adjusting the growing hardness of his cock.

          When Tory conformed to his commands, arching her back, Azriel growled gently. "Good girl, Tory."

          It was hard enough to take his mind off Elain, to let his body have such reactions to other women, but he repressed his instincts so much lately that he could barely keep himself from jumping on Victoria. With parted lips, he passed his large palm over his pants, greeted by a wave of pleasure.

          The woman's brown eyes lit up at his gesture and she moaned, extending her fingers with long nails towards him. Azriel was breathing shakily, feeling his skin on fire. His balls strained painfully at the sight of her gleaming fingers pumping in and out of her cunt.

          " Do you think you're pussy is ready for me, Tory? " He asked, a mischievous tone curling around his raspy timbre. " Do you think you can handle me, now? "

          She nodded eagerly, stretching closer to the end of the bed.

          " Use that beautiful mouth. " Azriel demanded, getting up from the chair, closing the space between them.

          " Yes, Azriel. " Her breathy voice went straight to his aching groin. " Please, take me here, I crave your touch. Please... "

          He towered over the bed, letting her slim hand stroke him through his tight pants and her pleading feed his ego. The woman's lips fell apart as she felt him hard under her palm, long and round and thick. His neck constricted at the pleasure, large veins appearing under his skin.

          Azriel always made sure his women were ready for him when he fucked them, he loved the prelude, he wanted everyone in a safe and controlled enviroment.

          He began undressing himself as the women worked them both. " Let me help you. " He simply said as he ripped the thin material from her hips, leaving furious, red marks on her white skin. He bent and captured her mouth in a ferverous kiss as he pinched a nipple between his two fingers. There was nothing soft, nothing intimate about his mouth, how he sucked her tongue demandigly, how he bit her lips, bruising them.

          Azriel's other hand went to Tory's fingers, bringing them to his mouth, sucking each one of them dry. He hummed apreciative at the taste, then replaced her hand with his giant palm who covered her whole sex.

          He coated his long, elegant fingers in her juices, then pumped three digits inside her already elastic cunt, working the bundle of nerves with his thumb. Tory trashed against the sheets, clamping her legs. " Keep your legs apart or I'll stop. " Azriel warned, spanking her sex.

          She mewled under his unforgiving touch and unbuckled his pants, greedily freeing him. The muscles in his thighs flexed as she stroked him in awe, barely able to circle him with her fingers. His cock was beautiful, with a dark pink crown and a soft skin. Azriel gritted his teeth as she moaned in apreciation and hungrily licked the underside of his shaft from his base to the tip, trying to taste as much of him as she could from this position.

          Tory's happiness of having him in her mouth was short lived as she felt her climax building in her belly. Her tongue slid into the small slit across it's tip, then sucked the beads of precum gathered there. Azriel panted, and brushed a hand through her hair. " You take me so well, Tory. You're so fucking behaved. "

          Her brown eyes rolled in her head as he leaned and harshly sucked one of her nipples, bitting lightly at her underboob. She almost chocked around him as her orgasm shivered through her, making her legs shake. She tried to clamp them shut again, barely able to sustain herself on one elbow, but two shadowy hands kept her ankles still on the bed.

          " Turn around. " Azriel's command came out breathless as he traced his burned hands along her spine.

          He stroked himself a few times before easing inside her, groaning silently at the way she clamped around him. Patiently, he slided slowly, giving Tory enough time to adjust to his considerable size. The woman arched like a profesionist, presenting her ass for him, letting him fill her whole.

          Azriel never made love to any of these women. He wasn't an easy lover and he never knew how to fuck like one, either. The only thing he could offer them in exchange was patience and tenderness, making them feel less like prostitutes and more like actual women who enjoy their sexuality. He always fucked them within the limits of what they could take, of what they wanted.

          He tangles his fingers between her fiery locks again, beding her back at a painfull angle. Tory moaned otherworldy, pinning her hands to the headbord to sustain her body. " Azriel. " She pleaded as he landed a harsh slap against her round ass. " Do it again, please. "

          He hit her again, harder this time, untill her skin was tainted a sexy colour of red. Azriel pumped roughly inside her, like he could abandon all of his suffering here.

          She felt him stimulate a burried spot within her belly over and over, until her legs began to shake against the mattress. Her doe eyes rolled in her head, enjoying both the pain of her hair being pulled mercilessly and her pussy being used senselessly.

          " Have you been  fucked like this today, Victoria? " Azriel's voice was thick and intoxicating, breathless even, as he burried himself faster in her gleaming pussy.

          " N... Oh, oh... No, no " Victoria's brain was drowned in cedar perfume, too full of hormones and pleasure and overstimulated by everything he offered.

          " Do you want to come all over my cock? " His dirty words made her orgasm come closer to her, within reach.

          " Yes... Yes... Please, I want to come... " Tory's breasts bounced painfuly with each of his hard thrusts. " I didn't have any orgasms today. Help me, please... "

          " Poor thing... Let me satisfy your needs... " Azriel purred, placing a large hand on her lower belly, pressing lightly. Tory braced her hand on his strong thigh, unable to think straight from the pleasure.

          She came all around his cock, she barely had the chance to register when all of that happened. Azriel thrusted inside her a couple more times, groaning lowly. He withdrew from Tory's cunt, pumping himself untill his seemen painted his abdomen.

          " Thank you. " Victoria said, a big smile on her lipstick stained mouth.

          " I'm the one who should be thanking you. " The man admitted, as he made his way to the bathroom to clean up his mess.

          " I'm leaving tomorrow. " Tory found the courage to announce him while wrapping the sheets around her naked body.

          Azriel stopped in the middle of the hall. Tory sipped the erotic sight of his huge back and chiseled ass.

          The woman wondered how sensitive those wings were, what reactions she could draw out of him if she licked them.

           " Where are you going? " He asked her, slowly turning towards Tory.

            " I've collected enough money and I'm going to move with my mother and sister somewhere further away. Maybe we'll see each other again if you ever need me. "

          Azriel said nothing, just nodded slightly and closed the bathroom door.

         

​♤ The chapter is not edited. ⚘️