#also teran is here

[purplecladmerchant]

told ya it was gonna be your end when I took my decisions. I took them.

[ikkosu]

HEATED

(prowl.gn.cybertonian.reader)

While rooked into a case he needs to solve, and aside from getting a new partner for, well, reasons — the enforcer is faced with a certain 'predicament' he needs tending.

reader is taller than prowl btw. like, a little bit taller. Or like super tall. I just like the height difference ok. ever since I saw this fanart I just went AWOOGA he's so ndjdjdn his waist damn. I need him submissive. posted this at one am too :D warnings : mild robot gore, and mentions of valve spike. all that stuff.

CHAPTER ONE

UP at the south, Kaon's underground road network hasn't been fairing well these last few solar cyles. The tunnel, swarthed in ink, stretched across from both sides of the labyrinth with each end unseen, fading off into the deep chasm. The only light source now was Swindle's flashlight that lit a soft halo on the ceiling.

The tunnel was extremely obscure under radar. After several Deceptions attempted another revolutionary feat it was then banned of entry. You can barely trace any energon trails entering and leaving the tunnel. Small wonder it was chosen as a hideout — disregarding, of course, the daily patrols now that occured at fixed intervals.

Grimacing, he shifted on his pedes to avoid the murky puddle on his right. The shroud of sulfuric egg, rotten scum and the churn of garbage danced by, and Swindle wouldn't have chosen this place at all if it weren't for the pleasureable sum he's about to be gifted with.

This better be a good deal.

And, on cue, the silhouette of a mech emerged from the shadows, quelling any sense of irritation he had for the late timing. Chastise would be normally an appropriate response. But he figured there'd be no point about huffing now when he's sure this mech's not a force to be reckoned with — and is frame shouldn't be : optics a darkly blue, gold platings a pulsing radiance under the beam of light.

He's a physical embodiment of a shanix-jacked aristocrat. The ones those 'cons' would surely give a good beating to. Him, on the other hand? They're good customers. The best, if any.

"Traffic, eh Senator?" Swindle approaches, servos itching for a good deal. He's already skimming through the many treats he's got under his sleeve.

"Hardly." He grunts with a dismissive wave. "Just some mindless cogs trying to interfere with my work. I ought to establish some policy to prevent them from being this, ugh, trying."

"Believe me, those coppas are as persistent as sparkeaters leechin' off a snuffed mech." He mused.

The mech laughs, a deep rich rumble pricely enough to conjure gold bars. "It's a mystery to know when they'll emerge unannounced."

" Now, onto business. What do we have, here?"

Between them, a barrier, is a table. Producing a rectangular black box from his subspace, the mech sets it down on the surface. Inside, a clink of something can be heard like wind chimes fluttering against the breeze.

"All the crystals from the best of all cities and planets." He said. " Iacon, Vos, Teran, Xaraen — Camien delight, your favorite, is also a plus."

"Ohohoho!" Swindle unlatches the cover and beams at the myriad of vibrant gems. "You can't be giving me these beauties all for nothing, eh? What do I owe you the pleasure of?"

"Oh, nothing grand. I'd just like the usual."

Swindle, for a moment, visibly sags. " Sorry to disappoint but with all the bots cracking down on all of my sources. I don't got too many interesting Intel these days from hiding."

"Oh, no, no,no, no." He waved a servo to stop him." Not the surveillance. I don't need that. I've got enought. What I need, however. Or, rather — my boys on the air has been lacking in some...condiments for their next heist. See to it that they're sufficiently provided."

Now, that's a target he could aim.

"We-ell, why don't'cha just say so?" Swindle grins, interest piqued. "Y'got a benefactor to spare?"

"Quite. He's not very compliant at the moment and I'd rather he is. Could you, perhaps, 'alleviate' that stubbornness of that dear mech?"

Swindle chuckles and does a half-bow, servo on his chassis."Well, my good sir. Anythin' for the customer is a good go. It's in my policy to do so much more than just alleviate his stubbornness." He pinched his foredigit and thumb. Then, rubs it." For a small extra charge, of course."

He throws in several more shanix onto the table.

"I take it you'll be swift?"

"Quick as a turbofox in heat, I assure you."

Ivory white flashes as he grins. "Happy hunting."

THE sun peered between the dark blue clouds of the smothered the sky. Iacon and it's stretching towers loomed above like jagged mountaintops, abstract and austere in all it's glory.

Prowl grips the railings tight. He leant over and rested his helm against the cool metal. Much too cool against the feverish temperature of his helm. Slow and steady he vents, attempting to cool down his heating frame.

The chronometer beeped five thirty. He's outside. Outside in the barely risen morning, disturbed from a barely slept slumber and dragged out to barely risen city straight into a murder scene.

The scenery fleets by in a thin film of blue. Enforcers litter the region, half a mile at most, rousing nearby apartments and living spaces for questioning. Gradually, front porches open. Dawdling mechs and their slow blinking optics, half sleep-induced, are jostled awake at the sight of the officers.

A passing mech was jogging around the vicinity when he supposedly stumbled over a concrete slab. A quick double take proved it wasn't a slab but a dead mech sprawled out on the road, a mini crater indicating the weight of his fall.

And, looking up to the nearby building, where he supposedly fell, a smashed glass on the perfect teeth of windows indicated clear where the incident occured. Obviously, the mech is long gone : grey and parched of color; helm tilted to one side, optics black.

Prowl let's out another breath. It seethed through clenched dentas, hissing out as steam. His servos shook. Footsteps patter behind and Prowl grips it taut to reign it in.

"Sir? Are you—"

"I'm fine." He cuts off the mech. " Who is it?"

The junior officer blinks in surprise, a waver in his voice. "Uh— they, uh. It's someone. They...They claim to be your partner, sir." He trails off, unsure and also surprised at the prospect.

Partner? Prowl skims languidly across the ample litter of mechs bustling about. Only until his optics land on a familiar one, he nods stiffly. "They're with me. You can leave, now."

"Understood."

And not long after did his 'partner' emerged, lifting up the yellow tape, chatting with the passing enforcers amiably before sauntering towards where he stood.

"Not so bustling as I expected to be." You said. " Is it usually this quiet? Or, you could say — dead silent?"

The smaller Praxian had to take several steps back to regard you fully, an unimpressed look on his face. As usual, a loose smile eased at the gesture but you turned away to hide it.

"Enforcer." You bowed and held out a servo.

Instead, he eyes you with a cold reverie, nose raised high and haughty. "Doctor."

"Spoilsport."

And that's what it only took to carve out the familiar, seething scowl. "It's Commander, doctor."

"Actually, it's medic." You mused, optics fleeting over his frame."New paint job?"

"Excuse me?"

Even when he's scowling, the confused puppy look and the flicker of a doorwing alleviated the intimidating factor.

"You look different." You said.

"I don't."

"You kind of do."

"Just—" He rubs his face. "Just what on Cybertron are you trying to insinuate?"

" Come on, now." You nudge him. "Can't a mech compliment a good polished frame?"

Prowl makes an exasperated sound when you gesture to his body. You can't help it when really is shinier than usual. The Ivory veneer plating is practically glowing under the soft rays of the sun. Prowl, however, rubs his face.

"I take it you're aware of your current position?" He eventually says after a moment.

You rubbed your helm thoughtfully, reminiscing the words of Ironhide this morning. All you remember from the debrief was: 'He's a stick down on tha mud'. And also, a stick up his aft? A stick in or stick out? You're not sure.

"Quite." You snort. "Takes a while to get used to it. Especially when Prime didn't inform the reason why. "

"You don't need to know the details behind the transfer."

"Oh, trust me." You said. " I dont think want to, Praxian."

He regards you for a moment before shaking his head, whirling around to inspect the nearby scathes and scratches. Meanwhile, you knelt next to the body and grimaced, sliding on protective gloves. From the corner of your optics, Prowl does as well and he does it with prim and precise movements. It's been a long time since you're out on the fields.

"Why do I have to do this, again?"

Prowl tilts his helm, observing the body at a different angle, the last digit slides inside the sleeve with a plap. "You're experienced with helmichular fracture. Or, working with Cybertronian helms, for that matter."

You scanned the dried energon smeared under the poor mech's helm. Primus, how in Unicron's two aft did he get here? You swivel up. Oh, right. Falling.

"I work with the inner parts. Nothing the same like Chromedome does. That's heinous work. Mine's more on the anatomy, actually."Plating fracture, check. Spinal strut loose and fragile — check. Stiff joints, check. " Couldn't you have figured this out on your own?"

You prod the neck cables, feeling it flaccid. Prowl was silent for a moment. If he was irritated, you could tell by the scowl deepening from the reflection of the puddle beside you.

" I could," he says eventually. "But I don't need your input. I simply.... require a presence to rectify my hypothesis."

Oh? "That's a statement I never thought I'd hear you say." You mutter.

Prowl knelt beside you. He angles himself in a way you would have to look over his shoulder to see the body. The soft scent of datapad and office paperwork wafts by.

"This mech, here, is Strongholt." He said. "He's a member of the High Council. Tasked with handling ammunitions. Obviously, on close inspection it appears as though this body is conformed to the fall."

With the way he worded it, you're sure he doesn't think that way.

"The spinal struts is smashed." You said, optics quick and scaning. "....and everything else is broken. It could be ruled out as suicide but with you here I don't think that's the case."

He lets out a sound you're not sure if it's a conceding one or something else entirely. But he juts out a digit and you look at where he points. Disregarding the scratched plating, some regions of the surface were unusually glossy and some were worn.

"He hasn't gotten his plating polished." Prowl says.

"A bit late for that now, don't you think so?"

"He rushed all the way here in the dead of the night. Why else would he do that?" Prowl rests a servo on his face, mumbling into it thoughtfully. " Senator Stronghold is have said to taken care of his plating with precise delicacy. But this time—" Slowly, he traces a digit along the platings. " —Observe the fringes. It seems indelicate along the seams. His arm is polished but the rest isn't."

"Oookay." You try to grasp the pieces together. Trying to fit in the missing cogs from the machine. "So, he didn't jump. Is that what you're saying?"

"Not suicide."

" Then, what could it be?"

"He brought himself to a place." He muttered. " To somewhere. Unless it's someone and if he complied then it's not a matter of force-handing, is it?"

"I'm assuming things aren't as what they seem to be, apparently."

Prowl taps his thigh in an irritated manner. Either he was talking to himself or to you, it was hard to tell. But with how he disregarded your questions and looks — it was obvious he's cooped up in his thoughts.

"Dragged up there." He continues the muttering to himself. You noticed he's a little restless with the mini-movements he makes. From the rock of his kneeplates and the subtle, but often, flick of his doorwings. " No, down here. He walks. Over there. Then, close to the pole. How many footprints?"

You snapped out of your thoughts with a jolt, scrambling for an answer at the sudden question. Lamely, you said. "Five?"

"No, it's three." He waves at you dismissively. "Foot prints indicate long exposure to standing. Disagreement ensues. Blunt force trauma to the helm. Dragged up—" On cue Prowl swivels up. "Then pushed. Guise of a murder. Two mechs. An accomplice, to be precise."

" A what— Wait— so, hold on." You tug him close, lowering your voice. " He orchestrated his own death?"

Prowl leans away.

"Were you even listening to what I said?" He gives you an incredulous look." If you have so much to lose, would you really do that?"

You groan. He's not helping one bit."You're being real cryptic right now and I'm trying my best."

"No, not orchestrated." He vents. " That'd be ridiculous. But miscalculations did occur during the 'composing' of the Orchestra. He's compliant all but for the money. Both a victim to his faults and thinking."

You turn over his words in your processor. The lingering feeling that this isn't some kind of suicide rules out clear and Prowl had, somehow, figured it beforehand.".... You dont need me here to help you figure out case, don't you?"

He gives you a look that basically confirms it : a smug, but begrudging tug of his lips.

"I need you to confirm a certain theory." He points to the helm. " Blunt force trauma — Zero point."

You move over to the chassis and unlatched the plating. As expected the spark chamber indicated clear signs of restrictive energy flow from the burnt out, damaged ports. This could only occur if—

"He had suffered heavy blunt force trauma." Prowl stands up, gripping the railings with a vent.

" So, this is murder." You follow him, pacing around, a bit reeling from the new turn of events. "Its— it's murder, right?"

" We can't prove it is yet. We..." He trails off, then shake his head. "Tommorow when the warrant comes we'll able to consult his company....and...."

"Prowl, mech. You good?" You turn to the Enforcer who's looking a little off to be well, right now. "Hey, you need a moment?"

Crime scenes aren't the most pleasing sight to behold. Especially, the brutality of it all. You just didn't expect Prowl to be affected this badly.

" I'll—" He clutches his chest, shudders and groans lowly, stumbling forward.

"Prowl!" You caught him before he could hit the ground and instantly limps against your body, venting hard.

His frame was warm. So warm that once you touched his shoulder every moisture on the tip of your digit sizzles into steam. He's shaking and Primus, he's burning!

"You're sick and you didn't tell me?!" You laid him against the railing, loosening his taut platings to let air inside. Steam practically chuffs out from the pistons, smoldering your face with vapor when you unlatched the clips.

"I'm not sick." Was his weak protest and he pawed your servos away, attempting to get up. "The warrant—"

"Don't even try." You push him down. "Your optics are glazed! Plating is burning even worse than a typical fan-clog fever!"

"I'll get through it." He grits out.

"I'm sending you back. Doctor's orders."

He lets out an exasperated sound. " You're stalling the process! I need to solve the case before some overcharged single brained processor messes it up. "

"And you'll smelt into alloy by then, little mech." You clicked on your comm. " I'll deal with the body and I'll deal with the paperwork. You, on the other hand, need ratchet. If you preach for efficiency — then be compliant to it. "

Prowl opens his intake but ozone burns his tongue and another shudder sears through his platings. He turns away from you, groaning lowly. Maybe it's better if he complied because, right now, all he feels, is like a mech doused in gasoline and set on flames.

"Will you be fine?" Ratchet cocks a brow

Prowl grunts, swinging his legs off the medical berth. " I'll manage."

"Sure? Your internal processors are charged up than usual, Prowl." Ratchet grimaces at the datapads. Doesn't look much too good, if he had to be hoenst. " I wouldn't recommend you going about your tasks if you don't want your battle computer burning out out."

Prowl keeps quiet. He can feel the wanton heat pooling in his panel, itching, clawing to be spring free and abuse.

" Prowl?"

He sucks in a breath. "I need to go." And with that he turns on his heel and leaves.

He shouldn't have known it would be today. Especially, when the signs are clear enough these past few weeks : frequent mood swings, strange cravings at strange hours

He could've have pieced it all together and prevented the inevitable — but when he onlined this morning on his berth and felt the familiar trickle of lubricant coating his inner thighs, it was over.

He was too late.

Heat cycles.

Just the worse.

It was easy to know when it's coming just as easy to know it's going to get worse : the numbness on the tip of your digits, restless frame, unfocused and glazed optics. The desire to lodge a hole into every walk you find. All typical sign.

Some frames are more accustomed to such a cycle. Unlike the smaller frames, larger ones are able to disperse heat more efficiently. So, it was a tolerable task to wait it out during work and return home and take care of whatever problem they had with their conjux. Even better, take heat suppressants and the charge, while not entirely taken care of, is reduced.

But given his Praxian frame slim build, demure size and all, the heat isn't so well dispersed and the intake of suppressants just happens to make it worse. His tanks are sensitive to the chemicals; he took it once and it wasn't fun taking turns purging his tank and satisfying himself.

Prowl groans, squeezing his thighs together as the words blur out from his optics. The datapad in his servos dented from his grip and he discards it on the table, landing across with a tack. Blasted report. He keeps reading the same line over and over and his processors won't digest the damn thing.

He leans against the chair and his helm tips back until his optics met the ceiling. An experimental servo glides down his abdomen and he shudders as it clamps on his heated panel. He gives it a little stroke, venting when lubricant smear the seams. A low whine churned from his throat. Prowl flushes, chagrined.

Mhn. Hot. He feels hot. So, hot. So Restless. He needs to purge out this excess energy or driving him insane. He could head out into the sparring range and punt in a few dents jn the testing dummies but he's too restless for that. He needs something and that something has to be inside and pumping his valve until he's all but a writhing mess on the floor.

The panel slides and a throbbing spike springs out. Ivory in color, grey outline, it stands at attention and the tip weeps with transfluid. Prowl slides his digits inside the swollen valve. He groans as he feels his calipers pulsing around his digits, spreading the folds out.

He can't keep going on like this.

On cue, the door opens. Prowl jolts in his seat and swivels up at the intrusion, lodging his digits deeper inside in tandem of his fluster. It was you. You're by the doorway. Stiff and straight to the brim, optics wide. The datapad you were holding drops from your servos just as your jaw had flung open in surprise

[hpowellsmith]

New Game Announcement: Honor Bound, Crème de la Crème Series Book 4

Honor Bound is a standalone game that takes place four years after Royal Affairs, with a brand new player character.

The story so far: I started working on this game in March 2023. I'm currently writing the first draft of Chapter 4.

Chapter 1 is publicly available for everyone to play. Chapter 2 is going up on Patreon on 1st August. I also hope to post (roughly) fortnightly progress updates.

Play the public demo here!

You're a promising officer in the Teranese military, a force which has not seen major engagement in decades but which holds vast influence. Thanks to an injury, you're no longer in the field. Thanks to the circumstances of that injury, you've been quietly reassigned.

Now you're to be the bodyguard to the child of a famous scientist who is attending a wilderness boarding school for the children of the richest and most powerful figures of Teran society.

According to your mentor, it's an easy assignment. The school sits close to your own hometown, so you'll be familiar with the area; you can recover your health and get your career back on track. What could go wrong?

Bond with those around you or impress with aloof competence. Be a kind, trusted confidante to your charge, or a strict, stern caretaker. Work hard for glowing reports from your charge, your military superiors, or the Headteacher to get your life back on track - or risk it all as you uncover secrets that put you and everyone around you in peril.

Play as male, female, or non-binary; cis or trans; gay, straight, or bisexual; asexual and/or aromantic; allosexual and/or alloromantic; monogamous or polyamorous

Play a junior officer in your 20s, a mid-ranking officer in your 30s, or a senior officer in your 40s

Befriend or romance a severe military officer, a bold, easygoing outdoors expert, a determined and overworked priest, an earnest but airheaded fellow bodyguard, or the anxious, serious single parent of your charge

Shape the school life of your teenage charge: encourage her to make friends or sabotage her rivals, let her slack off or push her to achieve

Protect the school, town, and your charge from natural disasters and criminals, or use chaos to further your agendas. Build a warm community, stand apart to focus on yourself, or push tensions higher in a place where gossip is rife

Negotiate a cushy promotion, or open other doors, through heroic or devious actions. Or become such a disaster that only bandits will give you the time of day

Unearth and thwart shadowy schemes, or enact them yourself for your own ends

This tightly-knit desert boarding school is a sanctuary for artists and scientists of the future to flourish. But as danger closes in, how far will you go for your ambitions, your commanders, and your country?

FEEDBACK THREAD, INFO, & DEV DIARY | CHARACTER INTROS | PATREON DEMO | PUBLIC DEMO | BONUS PLAYABLE PROLOGUE

[ambiguouspuzuma]

Tempers fugit

She was nose-deep in a book when Tephan sauntered into her study, as self-absorbed as ever, all misplaced confidence and mislaid tact. There was no knock: he simply strolled through the door like he owned the place. Which, in fairness, he did. He and his brother had inherited the whole Duchy on the passing on their aunt, from the throne room to the quarters where Sanje slept. In a way, they'd also inherited her.

"What is it, Teran?" Sanje lowered her book, A Field Guide to Mundane Fungi and Their Uses, which didn't have nearly enough pictures for its content. She was used to these interruptions, but that only meant she'd long since burned through her reserves of patience.

"Woah, is that any way to greet your Duke?" He protested in mock offence. Sanje wasn't sure that any insult could actually penetrate his hide of puffed-up adoration, but that hadn't stopped her from trying. "After he's come all this way to see you?"

"Forgive me, my Duke," she said, with as much disdain as she dared. The late Lady Jaside had truly been her Duchess - the sort of woman she'd been proud to serve. Her nephews, Tephan and Kase, were her Dukes in title only. "But come all this way to see me for what?"

"Hey, we'll come to that. There's no great hurry." He looked around the bookshelves, as if deliberately hoping to find a distraction, some reason to waste even more of her time. "Pretty flowers, by the way. How do you keep them all alive? The ones we get wither straight away."

"I don't," she admitted, closing the book and letting Tephan have the floor. This might go more quickly if she let him work this tangent out of his system. "They die, but then I help them remember what living flowers feel like. All the ingredients are still there, you see; they've just forgotten the recipe."

"Oh that," Tephan said dismissively, as if magical intervention was easier than just watering them every now and again. "Necromancer stuff."

"Not necromancer stuff. Magic."

It was a common bugbear. Since the age of Chronos, Father Time with Cronus's scythe, the Grim Reaper, people had loved to conflate time and death. But as a tempomancer, she could only reap what had already been sown. She worked not with death, but with life; restoring wilted flowers to full bloom, reminding wounds when they were whole, and reversing the ageing of her own body, so that young men like Tephan could continue to treat her with such flagrant disrespect.

"Magic is all about memory," she explained, for the dozenth time, and not blind to the irony. "Reminding mountains of when they were molten, or rivers of a time they took a different course. Yes, I can remind a corpse of its ability to move, but I could equally return living limbs to the impotence of the womb."

"So it's like... localised time travel."

"If it helps you to think of it that way." That was the best she was going to get. "Why are you here, Tephan?"

The Ugly Dukeling shifted under her glare, and turned back to inspect the shelves. "Kase needs you at the stables."

"Kase knows where to find me, just as you unfortunately do."

"That's why I'm here. He sent me to fetch you."

"Errand boy to the real Duke, is it?" Sanje tried to sow discord at every opportunity. If could get them bickering between each other, the theory went, they would spend less time ganging up on her. "Is that how power sharing works? He does the ruling, you do the dishes?"

It was such a shame. Their aunt had been a good Duchess, before the wasting sickness took hold. Sanje almost wished that she'd saved her: at the time she'd vowed not to meddle with a ruler's old age, preserving another unnatural life well into the centuries, thinking only evil could come of that. But bad things had come anyway. She'd left herself cursed to live through successive generations of up-jumped aristocracy, each less bearable than the last.

Lady Jaside had died, and her nephews had been made joint Dukes of Rhúnwald, joint Protectors of the Mark, and the joint banes of Sanje's life. They had formed an uneasy coalition: the two brothers had a friction of their own, and they'd inherited their aunt's previous counsellors, including Sanje's seat at that table. The old guard were losing that fight. The numbers seemed to dwindle by the week, having been of a similar age to their Duchess, and she wasn't looking forward to babysitting on her own.

"No way. He's just busy."

"And what's so urgent that he couldn't come himself?"

"Hang on, let me think."

"You don't know?" Sanje certainly wouldn't be breaking her vow for them. The moment they took even the slightest sparring injury, requiring muscle to remember a life before the swords, she resolved to be nowhere to be found. She'd restrained herself from regicide, which would also be a worrying precedent, but she wouldn't stand in nature's way. She might even puppet Tephan's corpse, until he learnt what necromancy was.

"No, I did, of course I did. I've just momentarily forgotten." He continued to look around the shelves, as if something there might job his memory. "Everybody does that, right? You walk into a room, and can't remember why you're in there? It's funny, just a moment ago it was on the tip of my tongue..."

"I'll see what I can do," Sanje said.

"Wait-"

But she was all out of patience. Sanje froze the rest of him into place, and watched the rapid convulsion of his lips with interest, trying to gauge where they would land. Tempomancy wasn't an exact art. Memory was measured in moments, not minutes - and some were more momentous than others. In this case she needed his mouth to remember its last conversation, in the hope it would be more enlightening than their current one.

"...a threat to our rule," it was saying, as she let it land. Too far. Or not far enough, she wondered. That excerpt seemed worth hearing the start of.

"Magic will always be a threat to our rule."

Intrigue turned into full attention. Sanje stood up, focusing as she pushed him just a few more moments back into the past.

"I'll lure the necromancer, make up some pretence for her to come rushing into the trap. It's about time we docked her claws. You're absolutely right. As long as we allow it to continue, magic will always be a threat to our rule."

She could only listen to one side of the conversation, and imagine Kase's equally dreadful voice in response. But it was enough to tell her everything she needed to know. Sanje could recognise a snake from front or back: she knew the clang of a headsman's axe, without waiting to hear its echo.

She brought Tephan's lips forward again, then back, then forward, until they were roughly back where he'd left them. "Funny, just a moment ago it was on the tip of my tongue."

"Well, take your time," she said instead, replacing her book for one on defensive spells. Sometimes her own memory needed to be refreshed.

"Oh, that's it," he said, watching her return the volume on fungi. "There's something the gardener thinks might be magical. Some sort of toadstool, I think. You need to come and look at it."

"Of course," Sanje agreed, for once the picture of obedience. "Please, lead the way. I'll be right behind you."

[queeranarchism]

[Image: A very detailed black and white inked drawing of Tortuguita (also called  Tort), a smiling person wearing a scarf over their hair and a scarf around their neck. Behind them are the sun, waves, plants, mushrooms and at the bottom is a small tortoise. Below the portrait are the words “TORT 1996-2023″ surrounded by images of medical supplies and vegetables in front of a cooking pot. At the very bottom is text that reads "The abolitionist mission isn’t done until every prison is empty,when there are no more cops, when the land has been given back, that’s when it’s over. I don’t expect to live to see that day, necessarily. I mean, hope so. But I smoke.”]

by N.O. bonzo

Free PDF poster here: https://ufile.io/3yvnhrwc

The artist shared this along with a gofundme for the family of Tort: https://www.gofundme.com/f/for-family-of-manuel-tortuguita-paez-teran

[brawlsbigbadonkers]

So uh... how you feeling about the newest earthspark episodes? I guess we sorta got what we wanted... (my poor blorbos)

Warning , earthspark spoilers

I have some mixed feelings about the newest earthspark episodes. But honestly I quite enjoyed them !! I loved seeing skullcruncher , he’s a personal favorite of mine. I also loved the breakdown episode , it was so good to see him. He’s a bloody handsome man ! I loved his little friendship with bee, it was cute yet sad to see. You can tell they still, in a way, care about each other. The episode where it’s focused on jawbreaker finding a alt mode is so heartwarming and I loved it a lot. Hashtag is such a tablet kid and I kinda found it endearing , reminded me of my younger siblings.

BUT HOLY FUCK I ENJOYED TARANTULAS A FUCK TON. I’m not the biggest fan of tara in other continents. BUT FUCKIN THIS TARA??!! MY GOD. I like how he never wanted to fight but he did what he needed to survive. THAT FUCKS. “But I will always be Tarantulas” FUCKS. I loved Tara , easily one of my new earthspark faves.

A lot of the other episodes seemed like filler but they where nice slice of life.

(Warning I’m mostly just bitchin over nothin for the next paragraph so feel free to skip it)

Now…about the last episodes. I felt like there was a lot of good in em!! For starters I LOVED frenzy and lazerbeak in the first part of the last episode. They where entertaining and lazerbeak voice ?! LOVED IT!! And grimlock ?! Always and I mean ALWAYS a joy to see !! I love him!! BUT- I’m gonna be honest, I couldn’t even enjoy the last episode to the fullest because you know who was in those episodes? Brawl. And you know what happen? He lost to bumblebee, lost a arm and lost his energon. He’s taking LOSES. If you know this blog., You know it’s BRAWL NATION!! We salute the brawl flag here !! You can’t even believe how excited I was heard he might be in earthspark. I thought he might have a small reunion between him and swindle where they break out hardtop or the two just get into some trouble and have the new terans have some fun/trouble. (Jawbreaker and brawl bonding moment in my dreams.) I know I sound like I’m nitpicking (I am I’m so sorry) but I just really love brawl and I was excited to see him again.

But from here on I think we can say that the combaticons are probably split up…BUT BRAWL MY BELOVED MY DARLING MY ANGLE IM SO SO SORRY EARTHSPARK DID THAT TO YOU.

Imma be real I don’t really care/like mandroid. Like at this point I’m not even interested in him. I thought he was pretty good in the first half but then they threw him in again and I’m lost and uninterested. I’m not really into the whole plot twist at the end either. To be honest I want swindle to just come and step on mandroid for stealing his brothers arm AND his gestalt (ex-gestalt mate?!) arm. I want brawl to get his Fuckin arm and back cannon back and blow the joint.

Earthspark had a lot of potential but I feel like it also misses in a lot of ways. I hope it learns to grow as a show and learn from other continuities trials and errors. I do like it ! And I can’t wait to see more!

[sataniccapitalist]

Autopsy Suggests 'Stop Cop City' Activist Had Their Hands Up When They Were Shot 14 Times by Cops

An independent autopsy shows anti-'Cop City' activist Manuel Esteban Paez Teran, also known as "Tortuguita," had their hands raised when they were shot by Atlanta police 14 times during a January 18th raid on Cop City protest encampments. Read More About This Story Here: Cop City’s Protester Had Their Hands Raised While Shot, Autopsy Reveals: https://www.vice.com/en/article/pkae4...

[thornfield13713]

...yeah, I am going to say we’re only a matter of time off eloping to Teran and giving the gossips something to really clutch their pearls about.

I also - I love this aspect of Beaumont’s character, because it makes sense. She appears to have had loving parents whose loss she feels every day, and she can’t...quite wrap her head around Trevelyan’s family situation, which- honestly, that is a mood, I do often find myself at a loss for how to deal with people’s families who have been legitimately awful to them, even if I’m not about to suggest forgiveness or reconciliation the same way because I don’t have the added trauma of parental loss to reckon with. Beaumont does, and it’s clear it still affects her very deeply, and I just- I think it’s neat how it’s reflected here. 

[tallmantall]

#JamesDonaldson On #MentalHealth - #Black #Youth Attempt #Suicide More Than Other #Racial Groups, Expert Says Don't Ignore Them

By Teran Powell #Black #youth #suicide in the #UnitedStates has been labeled a crisis by some #mentalhealthexperts. Research shows that #Black #youth under 13 are twice as likely to die by #suicide. #Mentalhealthexperts are concerned about upward trends in #suicide among #Black #youth. Studies show they’re attempting #suicide more often than all other #racial and #ethnic groups – and the #suicide death rate is rising at a faster pace. A number of things can contribute to the increased risk. One is the presence of a #psychiatricdisorder. Others include socioeconomic factors, #racism, #trauma and being the victim of #bullying. Experts say increasing access to treatment and highlighting protective measures—such as a young person having a strong support system—are ways to help reduce the risk. #Black #youth #suicide in the #UnitedStates has been labeled a crisis by some #mentalhealthexperts. Research shows that #Black #youth under 13 are twice as likely to die by #suicide. #Suicideattempts among #Black #adolescents rose by 73% between 1991-2017. Experts continue to study the how and why behind the increases. But Dr. Rhonda Boyd says one reason could be generational shifts. "One of the things that may be different than other generations is that #youth are able to see #racist events over and over and over again everywhere they go. And we do have evidence that shows that there’s links between increased #depression symptoms and #posttraumaticstress symptoms when #kids are exposed to #racism," says Boyd, an Associate Professor & #Psychologist at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. Boyd adds that the underutilization of #mentalhealthservices could be playing a role in #Black #youth #suicide as well. There is #stigma associated with accessing treatment. And the American Academy of #Child & #Adolescent Psychology says #mentalhealth and #substanceuse problems in #Black #youth are often unrecognized, undertreated and misdiagnosed. The reasons include bias, discrimination, and structural #racism. The Academy also says #Black #youth are also more likely to get poor quality care and less likely to receive follow up treatment. "We probably have a perception of who's at risk for killing themselves and it looks different. And so, we want people to not ignore #Black #youth and think, oh, it's a phase, or see #behaviors and put them into disciplinary environments or the legal system and know that they need #mentalhealthtreatment," Boyd says. #James Donaldson notes:Welcome to the “next chapter” of my life… being a voice and an advocate for #mentalhealthawarenessandsuicideprevention, especially pertaining to our younger generation of students and student-athletes.Getting men to speak up and reach out for help and assistance is one of my passions. Us men need to not suffer in silence or drown our sorrows in alcohol, hang out at bars and strip joints, or get involved with drug use.Having gone through a recent bout of #depression and #suicidalthoughts myself, I realize now, that I can make a huge difference in the lives of so many by sharing my story, and by sharing various resources I come across as I work in this space.  #http://bit.ly/JamesMentalHealthArticleOrder your copy of James Donaldson's latest book,#CelebratingYourGiftofLife:From The Verge of Suicide to a Life of Purpose and Joy Tarsha Wiggins, founder of Speak Wellness #BehavioralHealth Consulting, has created a space in Milwaukee for young people who may have difficulties with their #mentalhealth. Earlier this year, she started Youth Trap Therapy sessions at the Sherman Phoenix on West Fond Du Lac Avenue. Wiggins defines Trap Therapy as taking Hip-Hop music and pairing it with conversations about emotional wellness. Here she is during a #Youth Trap Therapy session focused on #suicideprevention and awareness. Tarsha Wiggins (left in the pink shirt) leads an activity called 'Cap or Fact,' where she read statistics related to #suicide, and attendees could decide whether they were true or false by moving to opposite sides of the room. Wiggins says she finds the rate of increase in #suicide completion among #Black #youth to be shocking. So, it resonates with her that spaces must be created where #youth can have culturally relevant conversations without #stigma. "There are conversations occurring, but they're occurring with this negative connotation layered. With that #stigma like you may talk about it but it's such in a way that's shameful that anyone in the room that may be experiencing #suicidalthoughts or maybe just experiencing emotional dysregulation, they don't feel comfortable in saying yes, I need help or yes, I'm struggling with something because of the tone around the conversation," says Wiggins. Wiggins says it takes collaboration from everyone— families, businesses, grassroots organizations and others—to improve outcomes for young people. Dr. Steven Dykstra says, young people in Milwaukee County face #trauma daily. "It isn't just the #trauma of seeing someone shot or seeing someone beaten up or being beaten up or shot yourself it's the burden the stress the #trauma that follows that when you're worried about it now every day," says Dykstra, a #psychologist with the Children’s Community Mental Health Services & Wraparound Milwaukee. Collaboration is a big part of Wraparound programs. Families have a say in every aspect of their care, from specialties to cultural needs, and are assigned a care coordinator who works alongside them for support. Next time, we’ll talk more about how Wraparound services seek to build on the strengths of individuals and their networks to create stable and sustainable plans for the families they serve. Photo by August de Richelieu on Pexels.com Read the full article

[sanjosenewshq]

Who will win the Week 9 sport on Monday in New Orleans? Mercury Information

Here is how The Baltimore Solar Athletic employees appears to be like on the consequence of Monday night time’s Week 9 sport between the Ravens (5-3) and New Orleans Saints (3-5) on the Caesars Superdome in New Orleans: Jonas Shaffer, reporter Ravens 17, Saints 16: This would possibly sound like Thursday night time’s sport. Ravens, regardless of a protracted laying interval, seemingly wouldn’t have a large receiver, slim finish or again out there. New Orleans will drop two stars as properly, and it would not match properly with the Ravens protection. Lamar Jackson’s jazzy abilities and regular hand ought to be the distinction in his first begin within the Superdome. Mike Preston, columnist Ravens 24, Saints 21: Enjoying the Saints within the Superdome is a tricky job, but it surely appears to be like just like the Ravens are able to go for somewhat run. Quarterback Lamar Jackson is aware of he would not should play “champion ball” each week, and the Saints are having a tough time discovering the No. 1 quarterback after changing James Winston with Andy Dalton. Childs Walker, reporter Crows 27, Saints 20: With a powerful protection, funky working sport and plenty of huge threats, the Saints should not your common 3-5 opponent. However the crows will transfer the ball on the bottom, and their big benefit in particular groups can play its half. They are going to be beating their approach to one other win on their NFC South Center Tour. Ryan McFadden, reporter Ravens 24, Saints 21: With Rashid Bateman out for the season and Mark Andrews up within the air, the Ravens will as soon as once more rely closely on a working sport. Even when Gus Edwards is not taking part in, Baltimore ought to be capable to transfer the ball successfully whereas nonetheless being answerable for the particular groups. CJ Doon, Editor Saints 28, Crows 27: For a crew with a dropping observe document, the Saints are fairly cool. DeMario Davis could also be the perfect midfield participant within the NFL. Working Again Alvin Camara is out of a triple play. Rookie extensive receiver Chris Olave averages about 15 yards per hunt. Defensive Marcus Davenport finishes and Cameron Jordan can cease the run. Security Teran Mathew continues to be a playmaker. Midfielder Andy Dalton performs higher than you suppose. This all provides as much as a critical street take a look at for the Ravens, particularly if they’re lacking Mark Andrews and Gus Edwards. Tim Schwartz, Editor Ravens 30, Saints 20: Perhaps I am too optimistic primarily based on the uneven season the crows have collected to this point, however the Saints aren’t who – which Good, crows had been feeding to run alongside the expanse. Mini Bays will assist, as a result of they have been coping with accidents to a number of key gamers, however assuming Mark Andrews is nice, I do not see New Orleans as a lot of a risk to Baltimore. The Ravens have achieved properly towards quarterbacks who cannot escape a pocket and take off (see: Joe Flacco, Tom Brady, Jacobi Brissett), and whereas Andy Dalton has performed properly since changing into an everyday, he isn’t Fleet. . Working again Alvin Kamara is a nail however the protection will stand tall and Lamar Jackson will most carefully resemble the midfielder we noticed early within the season as a dominant double risk. () Originally published at San Jose News HQ

[dragonthusiast]

Gimme OCs for the letters W, T and U

HFDSHOAHOF

ok ok so

W - imma put Wyn here even tho his full name doesnt start with W but eh 

Wyn is an old elven wizard who look like 30 year old and wears a bunch of jewelry because he’s vain like that. He’s one of those characters that just popper up out of nowhere and suddenly are integral to the entire series. He’s also my first trans character yay! 

T - Teran Dehro, the very often forgotten-by-me Kaleth’s ex boyfriend. I thought I’d put him here just to be unorthodox. Teran is a politician, who only has like 2 scenes where he’s present, one of which is there only to give me an excuse for Kaleth to come across your problematic fav Relioth. But Kaleth thinks about him during his moping moments so he’s relevant for that reason

And I don’t think I have any OCs that start with U :((

[hpowellsmith]

Upcoming Plans and New Project Announcement on Patreon!

I'm restarting my Patreon! Here you can get access to ongoing detailed project updates, lore guides, archived bonus content - and most excitingly, early access demo updates for my new game from 6th June onwards!

In this game, the fourth in the Creme de la Creme series, you will play an adult in Teran, a country far from Westerlin.

Right now subscribers can access the announcement, moodboard, and plot and character teasers for the new game, aka Project Hotsprings, a week earlier than everyone else, as well as a playable prologue to get to know your MC!

In the meantime, I'll also be posting more juicy details about the major characters. Subscribers will be the first to see these all-new character intros!

9th May: early access Patreon announcement and prologue ✅

16th May: public announcement and prologue

6th June: early access Chapter 1 on Patreon

4th July: public Chapter 1 demo

I'm so thrilled to be sharing more about the new game soon!

[gardeningintrests]

What if Aliens dont need education to our level in order to work?

like, we humans study for years on end and some even kill them selves because they cannot pass the examinations whoch means they wouldnt have a fufilling life. Now what if the Aliens dont work that way? what if they just need you to trian and pass a normal and easy test, physical test and some of you ability to do things and then they see which job suits them best. what would they think about our education?

little story down here :)

Log 12 #4567 logger : TEVILAAN

Subject: Travelling to Teran and do a log on how humans operate their tests's for their species and how they sort them.

Time : 2nd of Summer, 30394

-------------------------------------------

As we land to the port of the Terran International Space Station, we are quite looking foward to how Terran looked from the inside. We were accompanied by Humans along the way, some of them looked to the screens infront of them as they keep walking! This is incredible! I really want to know how they did that (this is going to be in another story) The humans brought us down, and we went into medium metal compartments, inside the compartment is nice. The humans informed Xi and Xi's crew that we are going to be visiting one of their universities { Xi has no idea what that is but Xi'm sure Xi will understand soon enough }

As the metal compartment { also known as "cars" } came to a stop, we exit out of it and was impressed by what we saw, a castle like building was infront of us. Xi and XI's crew are very keen to undertand how it works! it looks beautiful with the culture of modern technology and Art. Once we reached inside, we heard from the humans that it was class time so there arent going to be "students" around, Xi was curious and asked what are "students" and The human said that they are adolocents humans { human younglings from the age 10-21 but human ages differ diffrently at diffrent regions }who are studying for their future. Xi is very upmost confused Students? studying? Human younglings got the jobs so quickly? Xi wondered so much that i asked the human what age do Human Younglings get sorted into their workspaces. The reply Xi gotten was... unsettling.. The human laughed. Xi and Xi's crew was...dumbfounded, what were they laughing for? Then the human told Xi something horrifying, Human Younglings dont have a specific age for them to do the Job test! They dont sort them into Jobs! They have to study loads of subjects and then every year they have examinations where they have to rely solemly on their heads! if they fail, they might not get something called a 'degree" and without this so called "degree" they are unable to work and provide for their families or themselves! Humans have to find work themselves! While the human younglings are studying, some dont sleep for nights! and according to the 《Human Health Menu》 Human younglings need at least 8 hours of sleep daily in order to work preperly for the day and stay healthy for their growth! Xi and Xi's group were shocked and didnt know how to respond. why would they shove subjects they cannot handle to their children? CHILDREN! Children arent suppose to study! that is an adults { Matured Talibaans ( the species of Tevliaan) } and by the time they explained their so called "education system" a bell rang. "ah it seems like it is lunch time for the students " lunch time, time int he afternoon where humans eat their second meal of the day { humans need to eat 3 meals a day, breakfeast, ,lunch and dinner } We heard loud voices comming out of the hallways and stairways, Xi and Xi's group saw humans! Hundreds of them walking, and talking, some were holding books, papers, pencil cases and simple comunicating technology al so known as phones , some where holding onto medium high technology also known as Laptops

They all look diffrent in some way, but all Xi could see was that the humans are younglings sure enough, and most of them havent even touched their food the moment they came down, they were reading and writting eevrywhere and working on their medium high technology device.

Xi were expecting the human younglings to look at Xi and be scared or shocked on the sudden appearence of a so called "alien" but they paied no attention to us, some even walked pass us without a single word. they were like the living dead. after the visit to the so called university, Xi and Xi's crew found out that humans are...very pitiful...

to be forced to study subjects you are not good at and even memorise useless information that take up your brain memory is really unfortunate, they start doing this even just a few years after their younglings were born! it really is, if they have such vast internet and information directly in their hands, why do they still need to do such useless and wasteful process in order to provide for their own lives? When Xi got onto Xi's ship, Xi prayed for the unfortunate Younglings that has to go through such process. Maybe its just in the human nature, maybe its just the effect of another horrible history they have. end message

[peoplecallmelucifer]

NOTE: I forgot to write a quick synopsis earlier ... sorry.

OK so Johnatan Grace is a biiiiiiit of a self insert (shocker) He is a poet I used in a previous story of mine here he and 2 other humans were sent to represent humanity in a yearly festivities celebrating the art of the Galactic assembly. Since is was humanities first attendance and their  crazy reputation, people in power told him to stick to a pre written speech. He disagreed, called them out because “it’d be against human nature“ and said (or should have if I  didn’t mess it up) “Every story in existence has be written already, we just switch out some word every time, I am looking forward to see how you rearrange the words we use“. The government wasn’t happy with that and decided to  penalise him as soon as he  comes back to human space but he decided to go travel the galaxy. (Also Veq were also another newcomer to the manifestation and they and humans hit it off instantly)

Also from the previous story are the Keledones... An AI race created when humans were left to interact with AI causing a notable part of the assembly fleet  to become sentient, looking for basic rights and recognition and causing severe headaches for the assembly chairman (as as I misspelled it chaiman)

Light flickered up and woke John up. He looked disoriented as the cristaline being half his size entered the room.

"Creator Grace" the being spoke "the captain sent me for you."

"Uuuugh. I just dozed oof" John grumbled "do you know what this is about?"

"A first contact scenario, that's all I know"

John got dressed and walked to a replicator. "Tea, black, with milk and honey... make that two. You want something Rqou?"

"No thanks."

As the two walked trough the long corridor John sipped his tea and yawned

"I will never get used to that" Rqou said "Yawning is so weird"

" It’s also weird for a Veq to be half a system away from a hive and yet *yawn* and yet here you are" John countered "anyways first contact, whys does the captain need an unruly poet barred from 3 systems including his homework?"

"I do not know I was not on the bridge when the contact was established"

"Aren't you the first officer?"

"Yes but that's protocol"

"Fair enough I guess. Do you have any theories though?"

"Well the practice is to use the species with some kind of connections to the new co tact as a diplomat if no professional diplomat is on board"

"Aaaaand we are basically pasta of inteligent life. We work with any kind of sauce"

"I will never grasp human ability for abstraction and comparison " Rqou replied as he hailed the lift "Well I have duties to attend to, it has been a pleasure creator" he said a she placed his cristaline arms on his throat

"The pleasure was mine Flagbearer" John replied as he mimicked the motion.

The lift doors shut for a few seconds and opened again at the bridge.

"Human, you're here, good." The captain said obviously relieved "we have a ... weird situations. We have made co tact with an AI species"

"OK but ... I'm not AI." John said confused

"No, bit it was your philosophers that made our old AI interfaces go crazy and develop scentience. That makes you the closest thing to a connection with these folks until It Keleledone ship arrives. And that's two day from now."

"God -untranslatable- damn it.... what is my life" John sighed finishing his second cup of tea. " Sooo what do you know about them?"

The captain thought for a moment "they seem to be less hive like 5han the Keledones, bit still fairly connected. Think Hittarian bloodpact. They seem eager to explore, almost as eager as humans and have not shown any hostility. They also look elongated have two set of arms and are are bipedal... well at least the one I talked with. And their language is based on mathematical logic so it can be hard to understand"

John looked utterly defeated " captain with all due respect, I am a poet. A seorn enemy of logic"

" you are the best we've got"

John wanted to continue this This discussion but the navigator chimed in "they are hailing aggain"

"On screen "

The previously described robot appeared on the screen"

"LaKarVah-Captain-StarStrider-Assembly of Galactic Nations is asingmet: diplomat set?" he asked

"Yes the captain said, here they are." Captain said pointing at John

"Hello how are you doing?" John said while the Captain gqve him a panicked look.

"I am..." the robot seemed to hesitate "..at optimal functionality " after a few seconds the robot seemingly regained his composure " please state your name, occupation and Allegiance "

"I'm Johnatan Grace, you can just call me John. I'm a poet, drifter, martial artist and a general nuisance to a lot of people. I'm a citizen of the Teran alliance and the Galactic assembly by extention ... I think that works for allegiance "

The robot paused.

"Johnatan Grace-temporary ambassador- Assembly of Galactic Nations confirmed alias: John. Please confirm"

"Yup that's me. But who am I speaking to If I might ask."

"Inquiry accepted. I am Nill 1073- Decryption- Exploration Probe 5- Tool freestate."

"Nice to meet you Nill"

Nill paused, John had figures this was a sign of confusion. These beings intrigued him. He heard of the AI gaining scentience a year or two ago but he never met a Keledone. And now another sentient AI race. He was an explorer at heart. Drawn to the unknown weird and exciting.

"John I request an inquiry" Nill finally answered "your assignment is poetry. I have no reference. Please define"

"Oh, well that's a tall order...OK first off. It’s not an assignment or a job to me, it's a passion, something I do because I love it .... think of it like a positive feedback in a heuristic algorithm..."

Nill didn't have a face but his microphones were obviously moving to capture the strange alien words in the optimal way

"... Now what poetry is... It's a form of art. Self expression"

" Applications of art. Please explain."

"... I don't know"

"Action wastes resources . Illogical behaviour. Please explain"

"Well can I ask why you're exploring space before I answer?"

" Trade of information accepted. Inquiry accepted. Tool creators extinct due conflict, tool lacked directive, tool created prime directive: avoid mistake of creators. To avoid mistake information was needed, more races co tacted mean more information."

"That’s quite a story. You see That’s one of the reason we make art. It helps us express ourselves, our toughts and emotions we hide even from ourselves. We canteen learn from that, and from the art other people made to grow stronger And wiser. You looked for information among the stars, we jsut looked inward"

"Inquiry. Does art require disection"

"No it isa metaphore. The meaning isn't literally but symbolic. What I meant to say is that we observed how our mi do work to see our own shortcomings."

"Statement: your language has multiple new concepts to the tool. Inquiry would you be willing to explain"

"Certainly but I am running on no sleep for over 40 hours And am about to pass out can we Co tinue this in some ten hours.

"Meeting set. T-10 hours. Final inquiry. What is sleep."

[permanentcoldhands]

My demon & angel ocs

Bluey: an air headed demon who can never seem to do her job right. She also can’t fully transform into a human form (she can’t get rid of her horns or sharp teeth) which is considered a basic ability for all demons to possess. She stays optimistic though she believes with the help of her mentor she’ll be a great demon one day. When Bluey is not in her human form she has light pink skin, black sclera and white irises.

Mamon: one of the head demons in hell and the only demon who takes pity on Bluey for being bad at demon stuff. Xe tries to help train bluey’s demon skills in every way xe can. Since starting training Bluey has gotten way better at the theory part of the demon stuff but has barely improved with a practical. Mamon still doesn’t give up on her though as xe sees a potential in Bluey.

Eliziel: hates demons with a fiery passion while most angels will tolerate demon and only engage in combat if attacked first or to protect a human Eliziel will attack demons on sight. She believes getting rid of them will lead the world to a grand era of peace and will carry out her mission even if it makes the other angels look down at her.

Teran: is Eliziel’s mentor who is sick of her demon hating shit. They try to explain to her why angels and demons need each other to keep balance but gets nowhere. This pisses them off to no end but they still try to talk sense into since they know she has a good heart. In their free time they bartend at a local pub in heaven and make frequent visits to the human world to observe the morals they are tasked with protecting.

One last thing about all of them there all technically genderless as they are non human but they all have picked identities/pronouns that fit them

Bluey: mostly fem but sometimes masc she/her when fem he/him when masc

Mamon: feels fem but uses xe/xir pronouns as they feel more comfy for xir

Eliziel: feels fully fem uses she/her pronouns

Teran: does really feel any strong way about their gender usually presents neutral of masc uses they/them pronouns

Yeah so that’s it thanks for reading! Feel free to tell me if you like the characters and their designs also the Picrew I used is linked here

[ameliaxwayne]

~ 𝕀'𝕝𝕝 𝕨𝕒𝕝𝕜 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕤𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕕 𝕣𝕠𝕒𝕕𝕤 ~ 𝔸𝕞𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕒 & ℍ𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕒

WHERE: Infirmary WHEN: After the events of consequences WHO: Amelia Wayne & Helena Matthews @delvedinto

Time stood still and Amelia searched the ground, was he there was her Lukas there. She had scanned the faces, of those bodies that still had faces, but none had his face. He’s safe she had thought, she never got to say goodbye as the Head of Medical she was whisked away to treat the wounded before she could even call out his name.

The infirmary was full, most of the beds were full, a number of different ailments and severe injuries, broken limbs, severe scaring, those creatures, Amelia hadn’t seen anything like this at least not on Abellio. Handing back over a chart to one of her attending’s, she rubbed her tired eyes, she would have to remember to push for more medical recruits at her next meeting with the council, a few of these people will be in here for quite sometime.

Amelia was also in charge of the mental health of the people in Abellio, having completed a doctorate in psychology along with her medical degree she was also the Teran shrink, especially those with high clearance, as Amelia was trusted by the council to keep client confidentiality.

As she reached her office Amelia already found the girl waiting for her. Fin had only given Amelia a brief summary but enough to warrant her to want to see Helena instantly. After all it would be what Lukas wanted her to do. Sitting down in her chair opposite the girl Amelia searched Helena’s face for a sense of her current demeanour.

“Helena thank you for coming.”  she said pulling out a notepad. 

This wasn’t going to be easy for either of them but Amelia was here to offer Helena the same love and support that she would to Lukas if he was in need. What they would find, she was unsure, but there had to be something more. Something that would make Helena shoot one of their own, shoot Kade. It just didn’t make sense and Amelia was determined to get to the root of the cause no matter how long it took. Not only for the sake of Helena but all of Tera.