#arena duo my beloveds

[solarockk]

Madre de Girasoles

Grant their next life

a bountiful harvest </3

[yb-cringe]

fucking sobbing over the similarities between odysseus and athena v sausage and pearl… oh my god.. warrior of the mind…. my goodbye….

[wrestlingarsenal]

Can you believe your eyes, Bat Fans? The audience in the Gotham Arena tonight are certainly in shock as the Caped Crusader battles AGAINST his beloved Boy Wonder!

Earlier in the night ...

I used the Bing Image Generator to force Batman to beat up Robin and created my own little wrestleporn Zine. It always drove me wild as a youngster when the comic book writers would concoct some scenario (such as hypnotism) to force two Heroes to battle each other, instead of partnering against the villains.

Not sure why the Hero-vs-Hero trope got me so excited. Maybe because there is something homo-erotic about two allies forced to a face-off, the buddies now trying to defeat and own one another, each hoping to top the other. Or maybe it has to do with my Tag Team Wrestling obsession, where partners often break up and latter battle each other to find out who had been the Alpha partner (so gay!).

And now with the power of AI, I can generate my own Superhero comic books containing plenty of Buddy Battles in a pro wrestling context.

In my story, the Joker has planted bombs under the Gotham Orphanage for Motherless Boys to extort the Dynamic Duo to his will. Unless Batman and Robin get it on in the ring (and fight for real), well let's just say Christmas will be canceled in Gotham City this year!

To Be Continued -- Same Bat Time! Same Bat Blog!

[miraculousenigma]

~Answered~

certifiedwerewolf asked:

The morning after the Battle of the Bands, Gyro will come into the living room to find Mercury and Jaune on the couch together. Judging by Jaune's state of half-undress and the spare pillow and blanket from Mercury and Emerald's room, it is readily assumed that he crashed on their couch the night before, though the reason for this is not as readily available.

When Gyro comes in on them, Mercury will be handing Jaune his guitar- not his treasured electric or his best beloved acoustic, his most prized possessions, but a slightly-worn acoustic that he acquired some months ago upon realizing that "here, I'll show you-" is such a wonderful way to flirt when one is a musician (Gyro will have the context for this, though it is up in the air whether he will recognize which instrument is which).

The conversation he overhears as the guitar is passed over will go as thus:

"So you mean to tell me that this whole time you could play, and you never told me?"

"Mm. Yeah. I used to bring my guitar around all the time, but Weiss put a moratorium on that before you starting coming around, so I guess it never came up."

(As he says this, he is adjusting his hold on the guitar, running fingers over the strings to test their tension, plucking softly to test the guitar's tuning- unnecessary, as Mercury keeps all of his instruments, even those not kept for his own use, in excellent condition.)

"Tch, that's dumb. What does she get to say about it anyway? Fuck her."

"Yes, I was trying to," Jaune says absently, not looking away from his careful examination. "That was the problem."

This admission, or perhaps just the casualness of it, is enough to get a startled burst of laughter out of Mercury, a rare, genuine laugh, one deep and open-throated and utterly delighted. Jaune still doesn't look up from his work at this, but anyone facing him at the right angle would be able to see the pleased smile he directs to the guitar in his hands.

Gyro’s head was still pounding as a result of the concert from the previous evening (turns out when you’re Potentially Forty and also Gyro In General, a loud, music arena followed by a busy party at a bar were a terrible combination), and he’d originally been trudging down to the kitchen like the living dead.

However, the duo situated on the couch (one that was so clearly flirting with one another, and conversing in such a way that seemed relatively free of stress) brought a tired smile to Gyro’s face as he came to a stop by the couch. One that only widened as he heard Mercury let out a laugh of confirmation; it was so genuinely happy, a surprising relief after the past few weeks.

“I wasn’t aware we had a guest staying over last night,” Gyro said, too tired to pretend he was mildly annoyed by this. “Then again, I did pass out as soon as I laid down, so the apartment could’ve blown up and I would’ve never known.”

[astronautbeans]

👀 Joel and gem as a duo?

or xisuma as a character

whatever you may please :)

im so late whoopsie but yes i am looking

Joel and Gem are beloved to me actually. They absolutely train together for MCC and as a recent addition, they always spar a little before upcoming life games! training can go from a lighthearted, laughing-filled session to arena-level fights with 0 mercy from either side. they have fun tho, it's moments where they can be themselves, with no prying eyes. they understand each other and the heat of battle <3

and XISUMA my absolute beloved <3 he is very protective yes we all know. and we also know he's an absolute wet cat most of the time. but when the server is in any actual danger, not that it ever is but in theory, he can get scary. he will do anything to keep his hermits safe, will go to any length to make sure this safe haven isn't compromised. and if anyone ever tries to mess with hermitcraft? well, they can't even hope he doesn't find them. they'll regret it.

anyways yes I love making my funky block guys scary protective <3 all in theory of course, no one is dumb enough to mess with hermitcraft ^^

[cuuno-moved]

You ever just have Incredible amounts of brainrot about Sausage and Pearl? Like i picked the underrated half of teh WRA to brainrot about i miss them SO MUCH

NO FOR FUCKING REAL ARENA DUO MY GODDAMN BELOVED

[scorchedhearth]

my prompt for you today is : quynh +horse racing

quynh, my beloved, it’s been too long since i wrote for her, thank you!! i do think she'd be the one with the worst competitive streak out of them, racing is just what she needs

get your own drabble

Quynh’s laugh is lost in the wind that whips at her face, they do not hear it but they all see it. She makes sure of it, turns around and glances at the other racers as she bolts across the tracks, one with her horse. She feels its breaths, its every movement, the muscles coiling tight under her legs and the thunder of its hooves.

Around her the coliseum booms with cries and applauses as she engages in the turn, holding on to her stallion’s mane and guiding it through the tight corner, gaining two paces on her competitors before pushing her heels in its flank and prompting it to race at its top speed again. She makes eye contact with the slowest one not even at the turn yet and makes sure to laugh in his face, bright and loud, teeth shining in the blazing sun as she clings on the reins in her hands, just enough to make him lose his footing. She hears more than sees him crashing, watches the crowd rumble with cries of surprise and satisfaction as his horse loses his footing in the sand and falls, like dozen have before him.

She knows this arena, has been there before when visiting this part archipelago, won more times than she can remember too. She knows these tracks, knows their weaknesses and tough spots, and knows that ego and blood drumming hard in your ears lead to easy mistakes. She didn’t need to, but it feels good to assert herself here, to prove that they’re right to fear her on these tracks.

There’s nothing quite like horse racing, the exhilaration as you speed on the arena’s tracks under the thunder of a crowd hungry for spectacle, as you get to pick the best horse and push it to its limits, to prove yourself. Quynh loves it, loves the rush of blood in her ears and the hunger for victory that pangs at her very core. She has since long loved riding horses, but rare are the opportunities to race, to measure herself to other great racers and prove her worth, prove that there’s no one quite like her.

There’s a rider tailing her, small like her and with a golden horse, the favorite of this year’s games. Only half of the circuit to complete and truth is, Quynh has never liked to follow the rules. She guides her horse until it’s running right in front of the other, hind legs hitting the ground mere inches from it. Her own horse has a reactive nature as she discovered on the first race, and she grins to herself when it predictably kicks at the too-close duo, sending a hoove into the other’s front legs, making both rider and horse lose their footing too. Another press of her knees, a tug on the reins and her horse it back on the left of the tracks, running toward the finish line.

She crosses it under the raucous screams of the crowd, one fist hefted high in the air as she slows the pace and trots under the attention of the public, bristling with unleashed energy and pride.

[couldbebetterforsure]

Since you play Fire Emblem Heroes, what are your main teams?

Okay this is the last old ask I have in my inbox it seems!

As for your question, Anon, I have a few main ones!

My number one main team is Alfonse, default Takumi, default male Robin, and default male Corrin. This squad is the very first team I ever invested in for Heroes, they've been there from the start. While they may not be able to keep up with the meta, I'm attached to them and would never disband them. That being said, my Alfonse is basically a monster, the guy can hit harder than people expect and is surprisingly tanky at times!

Next team is my Blueberry Fam! Starring Knight Exalt Chrom, default female Robin, Brave Lucina, and default male Morgan. Of fucking course I'm gonna have a team centered on my beloved Awakening family!

Another one I have that isn't a complete team is Valla Family, which has default female Corrin, default Silas, and default male Kana, with a spot open for whenever Sophie decides to show up. A team based on my true run family for Fates!

I also have my beloved Stahlivia Fam team with default Stahl, Sky High Dancer Olivia, Dancer Inigo, and Soleil. I have said several times that Stahl/Olivia is my second favorite pairing of Awakening and it's a damn shame they aren't more popular. So at least I got to make a team for the fam in Heroes!

I have a Faerghus Four team that is also my Arena Defense team made up of Summer Dimitri, default Felix, Summer Sylvain, and Summer Ingrid. Originally it was Winter Felix in the team for shits and giggles but I switched him out with default Felix for some coverage.

I have another Chrobin family team that has Valentine Chrom/male Robin duo, Valentine female Robin, Valentine Lucina, and Fallen male Morgan. I love the comedy of this team!

And last but not least, my last main team is default male Alear, default female Alear, default Alfred, and default Lumera. I love my sweet babies on this team so much!

[wuwahei]

My Largest UCLA Bruins Basketball Lesson

In the heart of Los Angeles, the iconic UCLA Bruins basketball team has captured the attention of basketball enthusiasts with their thrilling performances, showcasing each resilience and determination all through the season. The Bruins have pushed their limits, remaining a formidable force and asserting their dominance in the college basketball arena https://www.uclabasketballjerseyonline.com/evan-manjikian-jersey-c-10.html. Under the cautious guidance of head coach Mick Cronin, the group has shown tremendous improvement and a notable shift in functionality compared to earlier years. With a strong roster and a robust emphasis on teamwork, the Bruins have worked tirelessly to establish themselves as one of the prime contenders in the Pac-12 Conference. Despite the challenges they faced early in the season, which includes injuries to key players, the Bruins' determination by no means wavered. They exhibited their unwavering resolve, relying on their depth and versatility to hold their dreams of achievement alive. This resilience was epitomized in their intense matchup against the Arizona Wildcats, exactly where the Bruins fought tirelessly until the final whistle Dylan Andrews Jersey, securing a difficult-earned victory. Led by the dynamic duo of guards, Johnny Juzang and Tyger Campbell, the Bruins' offense has been a force to be reckoned with Russell Stong Jersey. Juzang, a transfer from Kentucky, has been a revelation, regularly delivering scoring performances that have left crowds in awe. His capability to navigate through defenses and obtain the bottom of the net has been crucial to the Bruins' success, earning him accolades as one of the brightest stars in college basketball. On the defensive finish, the Bruins have been equally impressive, regularly disrupting opponents' strategies with their tenacity and agility. Cody Riley and Jaime Jaquez Jr. have emerged as formidable defensive assets, intimidating their adversaries and producing life hard for opposing offenses. Their skillful shot-blocking and potential to study the opponents' plays have played an integral part in the Bruins' ability to shut down their opponents' scoring possibilities. Furthermore, the unity and camaraderie amongst the players have been vital to their achievements this season. They have displayed trust in 1 yet another, forging a bond that extends far beyond the basketball court. This cohesion has been visible in their seamless passing, flawless coordination, and the palpable chemistry that resonates via their gameplay. The Bruins' journey has not been devoid of its obstacles, with injuries and a grueling schedule testing their mettle. However, they have emerged victorious, each in their challenging physical battles and in the unyielding belief they have in themselves and their teammates. With the standard season drawing to a close, the Bruins have their sights set on the upcoming NCAA tournament. Confident in their skills, they are determined to make a deep run and etch their names in the annals of college basketball history. As the Bruins gear up for the culmination of their season, the city of Los Angeles stands behind them, prepared to rally and support their beloved group. The UCLA Bruins basketball program has captured the hearts of fans across the nation with their grit, determination, and relentless pursuit of victory. In a season marked by resilience and unwavering determination, the Bruins have redefined what it indicates to be a basketball team. They have emerged as a formidable force, ready to take on any challenge that comes their way. The stage is set, and their sights are set on glory.

[sageywritings]

Memory Lane

Dash has had nothing but time on his hands to think. Was it his arrogance that got him here? Did he deserve this? Is there even a way out for him and Dawn at this point?

The next installment of my RWBY oc fic Flames of Change as we continue to go through Sienna's time in the White Fang. Make sure to read up on Home Invasion, Always Forward, Back to the Streets, and Home Turf!

Team DASH belong to me.

Sienna Umberon belongs to @gruntnuker-rwby and @wetsliceofbread

“You fought excellently. It’s a shame that substandard school doesn’t let you pick your teammates. Then you wouldn’t have that faunus street punk holding you back.”

In an instant, the warmth of pride escalated into a blood boiling rage. The satisfied smile disappeared, the shoulders that were back hunched forward slightly as his muscles tensed. Dash’s grip on his phone tightened. He wished he had the strength to snap the phone in two. At least then the conversation would be over.

To qualify for the Vytal Festival was already a great feat. But to actually lead your team to victory in it was on entirely another level. All of the training, everything they had learned, all led up to this one tournament. So to see Team DASH’s names in lights, victorious over Haven Academy’s Team SPHR in their first round matchup, it was a feeling that for Dash even superceded his best baseball accolades. Before coming to Beacon, all he had heard from “friends” of the family was how he should reconsider and how he had not just one but two already set paths waiting for him at home. This was vindication. A confirmation that leaving Atlas for Vale - and leaving both baseball and his family “legacy” - was the path for him. He knew those doubters were all watching now.

However, he also knew everyone was still watching when his team was eliminated in the duos round. Despite some stellar teamwork, he and Auburn were ultimately defeated by another team representing Haven. He walked off the floor of the Amity Arena, keeping his head down from the thousands in attendance watching on, though most were focused on the winners’ celebrations. If baseball ingrained one thing in Dash, it was that no athlete wanted to settle for anything less than first place. As team leader, he felt like he owed that to his team. He mentally dissected every move like it was a baseball film study. Every positioning error, every slight pivot that left him open for a mere second, every potential mistake. And as he glanced over his shoulder to see Auburn with her fox ears slicked back and a slight scowl on her face, he could tell she was doing the same.

Sapphire was the first to greet them upon entering the locker room. She barely let them through the doorway before wrapping them both in a tight hug, not caring about the sweat they had just worked up. Both felt compelled to return the favor, although with varying degrees of enthusiasm. After several moments and a shower of compliments, she finally let them free.

“I am so proud of you guys! You were even more awesome in that round than our first one!” she said. She stepped back, making way for Solomon, with his hood down and his signature beloved headphones around his neck.

“That performance was nothing to be ashamed of. As close as it gets,” he said. While he lacked Sapphire’s raw upbeat energy, his message was just as genuine. Neither the Atlesian redhead nor the Vacuoan brunette were moved.

“Shouldn’t have been close at all,” Auburn finally spoke up, her voice barely more than a low growl. Her arms were folded across her chest as she removed her fingerless gloves. Her eyes remained pointed downward to the floor. “If I didn’t lunge to go all in, I wouldn’t have left us both wide open. It’s my fault!” She beamed one of the gloves at the stack of lockers to her left. It collided with one of the doors with a soft yet distinct clank sound.

“You had him on the ropes, Auburn. If you didn’t take that chance, he might not have given it to you again,” Solomon calmly replied.

“It was sloppy! Been fighting my whole life and I go out and make a rookie mistake when everyone’s watching?!” Auburn’s arms lowered to her sides with fists clenched so hard they were shaking. “Fucking my fault I left Ospreay in a 1v2!”

“No.” Dash’s stern interjection snapped all three of his teammates’ attention to him. He met all of their looks with one of firm assurance. “We win and lose as a team. As your leader, I accept responsibility. There was a lot I coulda done bet-”

“Oh spare me the clichè crap you know that bullshit isn’t gonna make me feel better right now!” Auburn interrupted.

“Hey don’t take this out on me I’m trying to-”

Dash was interrupted again but this by a soft, chiming ringtone emanating from his pocket. It was a sharp contrast to Auburn's impassioned flare. A feeling of dread began welling up inside his chest nonetheless. He really didn't want to have to hear from him. Not right now. When he fished the phone out of his pocket, his feelings only worsened as he read only one word on the caller ID, the last word he wanted to see: Dad. That meant Dash had to brace for whatever speech about letting down the Ospreay name awaited from the other side of the call. On the third ring, he felt the slight solace of Sapphire's hand on his shoulder, as she couldn't help her curiosity and had looked over his shoulder to see who was calling. With a deep breath, Dash swiped to accept.

"Hello?"

"Son! That was a brilliant performance! Mom and I are so proud of you!" The voice of his father caused him to jolt a little in surprise. A welcome surprise, at least. It was one that didn't go unnoticed by the rest of the room. Solomon and Sapphire exchanged perplexed glances before turning back to their leader to keep reading his body language.

"Wow, thanks Dad," Dash responded. "If I had been a bit more patient out there, we would've had it won." But, his dad continued on almost as if he did not want to hear it.

“You fought excellently. It’s a shame that substandard school doesn’t let you pick your teammates. Then you wouldn’t have that faunus street punk holding you back.”

And there it was. The regret of answering the call was washing over. But, this was worse. He was prepared for his dad critiquing him. He had been used to that most of his life. But his friends?

"What?" was all Dash could muster to say.

"Such a shame, really. A true testament of how good of a leader you are, though. I saw your first round fight. Between that wastelander and that techie who didn't want to fight, I don't know how you did it. I liked that blue haired girl though. She looked like a doll, she looked the part-.." His dad kept talking but Dash didn't receive any of his words. It was just all muffled background noise. It was like the anger was shutting all of his senses off. That is, every sense except his speech, and all the filters that programmed him to keep quiet in his dad's presence were tossed aside.

"Shut the fuck up," Dash said. This stopped the voice on the other end dead in its tracks.

"Excuse me?? What did you just say to me??" his father fired back incredulously with rising temper after a moment to process.

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up." He repeated it, this time slower, as if his father was too stupid to comprehend. It made each word sink in and become that much more potent. He could hear his father stammer for any meaningful response, but again Dash cut him off.

"Let me tell you something. And you're going to actually listen, not just shut me up like you used to do at the dinner table. I'm going to teach you a thing or two about Team DASH. That 'doll' isn't just eye candy. She's the sharpest shot Beacon has to offer. And that shy boy? Under the hood, he's got the resourcefulness and the tech prowess to shut down half the world if he wanted. And that 'faunus street punk'?" That phrase instantly shot Auburn's ears straight up. She marched toward Dash with an enraged look on her face before trying to swipe the phone out of his hand. The only reason she missed was because Sapphire intervened by holding her back and clasping a hand over her mouth.

"She's the toughest person I've ever met and it's not even close. There's no one else I'd rather have to back me up in a fight. So you see, Beacon gave me the best damn tools possible. And if I can't win with those tools, then that's on me as a leader. So if you wanna blame somebody, blame me. Cause you will not blame my friends." Without a second's notice, he denied any chance of a rebuttal and hung up. Then with an angry scream, he spiked his phone on the floor. The only thing keeping it from shattering into pieces was Solomon's custom modifications.

Dash sat down on a bench and put his head in his hands. His stomach ached as his heart sank past it. His pulsating temples caused his head to throb. All he could think about was how those comments would come to bite him. The hand he was tethered to would eventually drag him back home, back to the line he was forced to walk for so long. However, a tender hand landing on his thigh ceased his anxiety fueled spiral. He raised his head just enough to see Sapphire offering him a gentle, sympathetic smile. Solomon was sat across from him, nodding his head softly as if he was processing Dash’s words still. Auburn, leaned against a wall by herself, arms folded and fox ears down.

“So. Sharpest shot at Beacon, huh?” Sapphire finally broke the deafening silence. She hugged the resident “number 1” as tight as she could to where his head was resting against her. “Well I can speak for all of us when I say we’re just as lucky to have you.” Dash did not have the energy to reciprocate the hug or even say anything, perhaps a first for the young Ospreay. He just remained motionless with an overwhelmed and dumbfounded look on his face.

“That was some high praise, brother,” Solomon spoke up next. “I know to you he might just be your dad, but you just stood up to one of the most powerful men in Remnant for us. Thank you.”

“Was it that big of a deal?” Dash said.

“A strong man stands up for himself, but a stronger man stands up for others.” Before Solomon’s wisdom could linger in the air for too long, Auburn meandered her way toward the others, arms still crossed. After a few painful moments of Auburn’s crimson eyes peering directly into his soul, she outstretched a hand toward Dash. He responded in kind, and Auburn pulled him up so they were face to face.

“You’re not the daddy’s boy you were when we first met after all,” Auburn said. A soft but proud grin crept over her face. Her ironclad grip on Dash’s hand didn’t waver. She then pulled him again, this time into a brief embrace, marked by a pat on the back at the end for good measure. It was probably as long of a hug as she’d allow herself to anyone but Sapphire. But, to Dash it meant the world. While the two had gradually gotten away from each other’s throats and learned to coexist over the past several months, this was the ultimate confirmation. Solomon was right. This was a big deal. He may have said to Dash he was “just dad,” but that made it so much more meaningful. It felt like the first time he had ever stood up to his father. It felt like the Dash that Auburn, Solomon, and Sapphire had gotten to know over long missions or late nights in the dorm had finally taken his first step out into the world. It was the first decision in becoming not the man he was destined to be, but the one he wanted to be.

A decision that Dash Ospreay had a lot of time to think about lately.

As his eyes strained open, first the fingers on his outstretched hand came into focus against the backdrop of the gray ceiling above, then his hand, then the rest of his arm. He rolled over in the cot he had been confined to for the past… who knows how long it’s been. Couple weeks, maybe? In fact, calling it a cot was generous. Soldiers in bootcamp had better. As he rolled over and slowly sat up, he tried to mask the grimace of pain. It had dulled into a constant soreness instead of the sharp stabbing feeling, but it was still painful nonetheless. He peered through the bars of the holding cell he was forced to call home. All there was of note was a white haired rabbit faunus, eyes concealed under a White Fang mask, filing her nails. The only thing sat on the small table next to her was a silent radio. Her legs were crossed and her lips were pursed. Last thing Dash needed to do was disturb her. She was displeased enough.

Dash laid onto his back once more, taking into account any creaking from his “bed”. With a soft sigh, he closed his eyes and resumed his indulgence in reminiscence. Not like there was anything better to do. Left to its own devices, his brain analyzed on loop every decision, every interaction that brought him here to his cell. There was one in particular that he found himself coming back to more often than most. It happened a week before the Vytal Festival as students from the other academies were converging on Beacon. Felt like a lifetime ago to Dash.

Fresh off a training session with a team from Atlas, Dash strolled through the courtyard of Beacon. It was what he and his team called their first “dress rehearsal” of the week, a gilded opportunity to get some practice against other schools within the same arena setting they would be in for Vytal. He walked with that satisfying soreness after a good, hard workout. As he passed by, he noticed a fairly large congregation at the heart of the courtyard. At first, he thought nothing of it. There were plenty of events put on by the academies to have their students intermingle prior to the main festivities. So, he plugged in his earbuds and kept on his way. But, the booming voice couldn’t be drowned out by any music.

“No longer should we have to share the spotlight with humanity when humanity is not interested in sharing!” He removed one earbud and skirted around the outer edges of the courtyard. Through the sunlight he could see a tiger faunus at the center of all the commotion with megaphone in hand. As Dash scanned through the crowd, he couldn’t help but notice one thing. Every other person there was also a faunus.

“Huh? What’s this guy on about?” Dash thought to himself. “Plenty of faunus are about to have the spotlight in the tournament. Is this guy even a student, who let him in here?”

“No more being treated as second-rate citizens for the circumstances of our birth! No more cages! No more slums!” The crowd was reacting with varying degrees of keenness to the man’s words. Some gave out impassioned rallying cries, while others were more tepid and unsure. "The richest families in Remnant flaunt their wealth off our backs! Wealth that we were forced to generate just for our mere right to exist  It's time they learned our plight!" The energy in his speech was reaching a fever pitch right as a group of teachers from different schools began intervening and breaking up the affair. The audience began to disperse, so Dash took the opportunity to make himself scarce. He couldn’t afford the wrong faunus zealot seeing him. But, as the front row of the spectators finally made their exit, Dash spotted the familiar fox tail of Sienna Umberon swaying as she grumbled more than loudly enough about being forced to leave.

“Yo, Sienna,” Dash waved to flag her down when she got close enough. While their teams were good friends, he and Sienna mixed like water on an oil fire. However, he was half hoping that by leaving with her, he could make it back to the dorm in peace. “What was all that about?” Dash asked as the two began walking side by side.

“A pro-faunus rally,” she answered matter-of-factly.

“Coulda fooled me,” Dash said with a dismissive chuckle. “It sounded like some White Fang recruiting rhetoric. Trying to use all the schools being together to brainwash even more faunus students.” Sienna’s ears shot straight up. She stopped in her tracks. The ends of her lips curled downwards into a scowl she couldn’t repress.

“Brainwashing? That’s all you think it was? You don’t think everything he said up there was legit?”

“Oh c’mon. He’s talking about faunus not having the “spotlight” when you’re literally going to have the world watching you fight in the tournament.”

“So one week every couple years is supposed to make up for the rest of the abuse and racism and mistreatment?” The tip of Sienna’s tail was beginning to flip sparks. But, Dash stubbornly held his ground, arms crossed. “And what about the ones who can’t afford to go to huntsman school because they get paid less than dirt? Where’s their spotlight?”

“This random dude comes in here sounding like he’s borderline trying to incite violence, and you’re gonna sit here and vouch for him,” Dash growled.

“Apparently that’s the only way we can get any fucking change around here!” The blaze in her voice suddenly spiked before lowering once more. But, every word burned nonetheless. “So what if I agree? Maybe you need some violence. See what it’s like in our shoes.”

“You really don’t think I know the target that’s on my family’s back? The White Fang have been sending threats to us since I was a kid. I read the letters promising to kill my 5-year old sister personally. So I don’t wanna hear anything about some White Fang bullshit!”

“Oh boohoo, you can curl up and cry in your 30 bedroom mansion. Good for you your sister was threatened. Ask any faunus and they’ll tell stories of what humans do to us. It’s more than just threats. You wouldn’t last a single day with the life I had to go through.”

“You think that’s justice?! All these faunus want change? It starts with you!”

“How many families have to suffer so yours can sleep good at night?!?”

A clanging on the bars of his cell dragged Dash out of his anxiety-induced daydreaming when the heavy footsteps approaching that preceded it could not. It forced him to marinate on Sienna’s question a little bit longer. He barely cracked his eyes open to see an imposing ram faunus, the same one he encountered at the party, with bandages wrapped around his forehead. Guess there was no love lost. Like there was any love to begin with.

“I know you’re awake, silver spoon,” he bellowed. Dash didn’t even flinch. He didn’t care if the guard knew he was awake. He just wanted to avoid any chance of interaction. Anything Dash said or did was used as ammunition against him, any small step out of line would be punished. A lesson he had to learn the hard way over the past couple weeks. “Fine,” the ram growled, “let’s see if you’ll move for this.” With a small click, he heard the radio fizzle to life with a woman’s voice.

“Breaking news out of Atlas, Tone Ospreay is set to begin a press conference any second now with an update on the whereabouts of his two missing children.”

Dash shot straight out of bed despite his pained body angrily protesting at the sharp movement. No information had trickled down to him on even if his father had tried to contact the White Fang. Were there some kind of negotiations going on? Were the Fang refusing his every offer? Surely there had to have been some effort in trying to get him and Dawn out of here. The ram’s snide cackle at Dash’s sudden attentiveness was drowned out by the flood of rapid camera shutters and the bombardment of reporters’ questions before Tone had even taken his place.

“Thank you all for coming.” The familiarity of the methodical industrialist that Dash would see in news articles and interviews, as opposed to the man Dash saw at his games, came through the radio feed. “We have been working tirelessly in conjunction with every special force Atlas has at their disposal. We have been at it basically 24/7 investigating all the leads we can.”

“Have you made any contact with White Fang officials regarding negotiations?” a reporter interrupted.

“I have not personally spoken to anyone, no. I have tried to send envoys representing Ospreay Industries, but all of my attempts were rejected. They say they will only speak to me directly, but I have no desire to negotiate with terrorists.”

“Do you feel like it is a potential race against the clock to ensure your children come back alive?” the same reporter came in again.

“Yes, of course, I feel that immense pressure. I want nothing more than to have Dash and Dawn back safe. All I will say for now is we have information that leads us to believe they are still alive.”

“Will this spark any changes regarding treatment of faunus in your factories?” another reporter asked, barely allowing Tone to finish his sentence. There was a brief but poignant pause. Dash could vividly picture his dad adjusting his suit to collect his thoughts.

“No. If they wanted change, then they wholly went about it in the wrong way. Faunus like to clamor for change and say that it takes all of us to do it, but it starts with them. These crimes they commit, the riots at my facilities the past couple weeks, kidnapping people, it’s on them. They think the entire world is owed to them.”

“So you have no response to any of the criticisms your company has fac-”

“I had to work for everything I have today. Why don’t faunus think they have to do the same? Like I said, they think the world owes them something, and for what? Because they don’t want to work like I did to make Atlas the best it can be? Because they hate humans and try to deflect that onto us?” More questions began to pour in, so much so that nobody could interpret one from another. But the last thing Dash heard his dad say was, “That’s all the information I have to share today, thank you.” And as quickly as it came, the deluge of press was replaced by the same news broadcast that started it all.

“We believe they’re alive, huh?” the ram yelled at the radio in a mocking voice. “You know we can change that in an instant, right Toney??”

“Why the fuck are we still babysitting them to begin with? I guarantee you there’s a buyer out there that can give us more money for their heads than he can alive!” the rabbit girl finally spoke up, tossing the nail file aside onto the table.

“You know the drill. Boss wants them alive. She wants casualties to a minimum, and this one does keep giving us info. Besides, not many people are going to be able to match Ospreay money. She’ll be back from Vacuo in a few days. We’ll talk with her about what she wants to do then.” Everything being said was registering to Dash faintly, almost like he was underwater. Even the ram’s taunting at Dash’s maniacal, fire-wielding captor fell on mostly deaf ears. Tone’s words, echoes of his own, reverberated.

“He… hasn’t called? He shouldn’t be negotiating, he should be giving them what they want! Do what you have to get us out! Not even for Dawn…?” As the two Fang foot soldiers wobbled back into focused view, Dash could really hone in on the expression of outright disgust on the rabbit faunus. All of a sudden, instead of reflecting on the past like he had spent so much time doing lately, a flash of a plausible, very plausible future crossed his mind and paralyzed him with a terror never felt before.

“I’m… I’m going to die here.”

[ask-paradox-and-friends]

CHAPTER 15 THE BUSINESS OF KINGS PT 1

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

*Brunhilde would have celebrated the victory, but right now, she is freaking out as she hears the next fighter as she hears his steps.*

Brunhilde:Hades ... .no. That's not good.

*in a scared mindset she looked for his opponent but soon choses a man of darkness. A king of shadows as you will as he is called he is in a large royal garden with several people. The royal gardeners a few of his adopted grandchildren and of course his jester who's playing with a Griffin.*

Brunhilde:Derail Galeforce! We request your aid!

*the blond king turned his head to the Valkyrie with a look in his eye Göll missed being scared by the kings imposing build. That and the shadows that moved around him.*

Derail:not this moment. I have business to tend to.

Brunhilde:you don't have business. It isn't that important….*she soon stopped in her tracks as she saw the king with a large arrangement of roses and tulips along with various flowers of passion and love.*...uh..

Derail:it is our anniversary. And I wish to give my beloved something to show my love for her. And my children and grandchildren know the language of flowers like my lady does in a way I don't. *Göll was cooing over the cuteness of the king now seeing he was a romantic man as he finished his business and gave the bundle to his wife who infront of everyone gave him a kiss and turned to the Valkyrie.*

Pelia:I see you came. So who is it? My son? My daughter? Me?

*she knew far more then the Valkyries would guess she knew but they sighed*

Brunhilde:your husband will be fighting Hades. The lord of the dead and the king of the underworld.

Pelia:a king vs a king? You have a flair for drama Brunhilde. But know this.

Göll:huh?

Pelia:*with an aura of a killer devil* if My children or grandchildren have to cry themselves to sleep because of your stupid egos and the false superiority of the gods I'll find a way to make you food for the animals of heaven and hell! GOT IT!?

*Derail worried for his queen turned and calmed her down and making a promise.*

Derail:on my life and soul. If I die. I'll let you come down to the underworld and do as you wish. Ok?

Pelia:Derail I love you my handsome sweetheart but it's not your fault..

*both rulers chuckled and kissed before Derail head off to the arena.*

Derail:who is my partner? I hope they aren't one to judge me on my looks.

*after he said that he saw his partner Alvtir, a rather small young Valkyrie.*

Alvitr:really Brunhilde? You paired me with the old man? Fine. Allright mister king. You know what you're doing?

Derail:now now young lady. If we are to be partners it is helpful to be friendly with each other. And while I am old. This old man didn't get to where he is by being a fool. Nor did I die one.

*the duo walked with each other as Alvtir got annoyed with how the king treated her like a little girl as Derail was a little surprised and happy at how similar she was to his daughters. He was having so many memories of his time spent with them. Ah..they are so precious.*

*soon enough the arena was rebuilt again. The arena was a large circle with large lamps shaped like skulls that were brightly painted and the walls were lined with black roses and several dark flowers as Heimdall introduced the fighters Hades walked out merging his Bident with what was left of Posiden's Trident.*

Heimdall:Alright everyone! This is round 5! On a royal chance we have two kings fighting! For the gods we have this man!

When he walks the very world trembles! When he scowls all before him bow down and serve! He is the oldest of the strongest brothers of Greece! He is the peak of Olympia! He is the king of the netherworld! LORD HADES!

Heimdall:and for the humans! This king!

He is a man of darkness! It was rumored the lights of his birthplace dimmed and failed! He is the man that showed his kingdom the beauty of night! The king of shadows who bested the man of storms! The king who made a she devil of spirits fearful of his name! He is a monster who scared the gods who had seen him fight! KING DERAIL GALEFORCE!!!

*Both rulers walked out of their sides One armed with a bidnet the other a dark indigo sword and shield. Both holding themselves upright and composed as the walked to their spots.*

*Derail took his crown and cape off and threw them to his sons as their cheered for him and looked to his opponent and stared him down seeing only Fortitude and resolve as Hades looked back he saw strength and care. Unbeknownst to either three gods bent the rules knowing that some gods snuck a rule in to let their champion humans a blessing to become stronger three gods used their powers to bless Derail's shadows as their were always around him like they were a part of him and thus gave him three blessings these gods were Konelia; Goddess of the Sky, Thalmos; God of the Land; and Vydall, Ruler of the Ocean. They weren't ones to destroy humanity nor the gods but they knew they made the right choice.*

ROUND 5 START!

[senorjlf]

, My beloved little schnitzel, @KimPetras, became a #GrammyAward-winning recording artist last night for “#Unholy,” which she was featured by @SamSmith on! I’ve been a fan of her’s for years and have been fortunate enough to meet her a few times (she even remembered me the second time) before some of her shows and can confidently tell you she’s a complete sweetheart. After knowing her story and how hard she worked to have her talent be known and taken seriously, I couldn’t be happier for her win. Well-deserved and even harder earned recognition for an amazing artist, who just so happens to be the first out #transgender person to win this category of Pop Duo/Group Performance (the same award @GwenStefani, one of her idols she’s spoken about, previously won twice with @NoDoubt). A huge win for not just her and the #trans community, but for the representation of the entire #LGBTQ+ community. I hope she celebrated her #historic win well alongside her loved ones last night. 👸🏼 . . . . . . . #KimPetras @RecordingAcademy #SamSmith #Grammys #GrammyAwards #GwenStefani #NoDoubt #LGBT #LGBTCommunity #Queer #QueerCommunity #LGBTQCommunity #TransRights #BrokenTour #ClarityTour #MarcJacobs @MarcJacobs @TheMarcJacobs @LAMB #LAMBbyGwenStefani (at Crypto.com Arena) https://www.instagram.com/p/CoWNU8Yrxx7/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[mudkissphotography]

2022 - MY YEAR IN REVIEW

Looking back at 2022, it was a year of living life on my terms. Doing things I have wanted to do for a long time, regardless of age. My biggest personal change this year was losing 4 stone and getting fit and healthy - its still a work in progress. I also dyed my hair like a raspberry ripple ice cream, (not been pink since the 80s) and had another tattoo.

I began to smile more and felt great, but sadly towards the end of the year, I lost my beloved 16-year-old bengal cat Rococo, so Christmas time was tinged with sadness that he wasn't around. I had this portrait of him completed as a tribute in November by Ana at Holy Trinity Tattoo Studios in Wigan.

On the photography front, I got to photograph two world-renowned theatrical shows. Firstly the Burlesque queen herself Dita Von Teese's Glamonatrix show, (the hottest, most glamorous ticket in town in March) was really something special and I was one of only 2 photographers chosen. Cirque De Soleil was another one off my bucket list and the only photographer at this particular show. I was treated with respect and kindness by the female tour managers of both shows.

I got to photograph the great British theatrical show Circus of Horrors which is always fun and keeps the audience on the edge of their seats with its death-defying stunts and bizarre horror themes and freak show.

It was also an incredible year for live music, it really did breathe life back into the venues once more. I was lucky enough to experience some magnificent shows and photograph them.

In no particular order, this is what struck me as some of my favourite times this year. First Aid Kit was my final show of the year, beautiful music, I could easily have photographed them all night.

Always fun shooting Billy Idol, who was in one of the first punk bands I saw in 1977. He is still the king rocker and had the audience in the palm of his hands. I also had one of my photos of him commissioned in the Guardian.

Robbie Williams is an incredible entertainer and 7 photographers were allowed access to his arena show - I was one of the lucky few.

Peaches, a superstar, a creative and powerful female artist, an explosive show at O2 Ritz, I was the only one shooting the whole show. It was dynamite and colourful and I had the best time. Peaches even shouted out to me to take the shot and proceeded to do a high jump for it. My favourite show of the year.

Taylor Momsen of The Pretty Reckless owns the stage at the Mcr Academy, with a pit packed full of photographers trying to get THE shot; I loved the beauty in this shot of Ezra Furman shooting for Academy Music Group at O2 Ritz, which reminds me of a pre rachelite; the first time capturing the funkiness of Macy Grey was fun and also a bucket list tick for the exciting duo Nova Twins to a packed crowd in the small academy; shooting legends My Chemical Romance in Warrington in daylight was marvellous, sounding fantastic, bonus that the L. A band Starcrawler was one of the supports.

Photographing the Mcr show for Brix Smith as she unleashed her new band supporting PiL was awesome. John Lydon was in fine form too. Tori Amos at Mcr O2 Apollo was a challenge from the rear of the theatre, but I loved the colours and stage set-up. Karen O of Yeah Yeah, Yeahs, was another awesome show, her outfits were magnificent. Blondie, another old favourite at the Mcr Arena spectacular backdrops made for a stunning photographic show. Wolf Alice, was one of my first live music events for me this year and what a dynamite show it was too.

The Rolling Stones in the summer I sadly didn't get to photograph them, but as press for Louder Than War we did get access to the VIP area which was just amazing, with Echo and the Bunnymen as support - win-win. These were the famous lips in the grounds of the Anfield Stadium.

So many shows I got to photograph this year I couldn't include them all here - but a shout out to Cassyette, Chvrches, Roxy Music, Mitski, Marina, LP, St Vincent, Paloma Faith and Samantha Fish, for some great photo ops, if you wish to go see the albums they are all here on Flickr:

So what a year it proved to be, packed with diversity and it was great to reconnect with some of my photography chums, old and new once more. It was also a pleasure to liaise with some fantastic writers on the live shows this year and some of the Louder Than War crew got together in the summer at Home Mcr for an afternoon of chatter, drinks on John Robb.

And this was such a fantastic mural in the town of Leigh (4 miles from me) and such a fitting tribute to Pete Shelley that I had to include it here as one of my favourite moments - taken July 2022 on the day of the launch.

Just one last one, this was our New Years Eve 2022, walking through Delamere Forest on the illumination trail - such a grand spectacle.

Use of these images in any form without permission is illegal.

All work copyright Melanie Smith/ Mudkiss Photography All Rights Reserved

[pigstepping]

I have amassed another collection of Techno-centric fic recs! All complete, 1k+ words, <5k hits, you know the drill. I'll give you rating, warnings, character groups, and word count, and then I'll release you to go make the author's day with some kudos and comments!

As always, check the work tags before reading! And without further ado:

cold hand in mine by Cardinalnorth

T || No Warnings Apply || Emduo || 15k

Phil nearly dies, or so Techno thinks until Phil shares the truth about his immortality. I love this fic because it has the adrenaline, the big life-changing reveal... but then it has another 8k words showing how they begin to navigate their new normal, which is so rare to see. Featuring touch-starved Techno, stunning prose, and a very nuanced take on trust.

to the ends of the earth by h_mellohi

No Rating || No Warnings Apply || Emduo || 4.5k

Techno seeks to be the first recorded adventurer to reach the Farlands, but he makes an unexpected discovery when he gets there. Sort of meditative, lonely vibes, especially in the beginning when Techno is very blasé about the risk he’s taking, and the second half turns into some neat worldbuilding and some very soft relationship dynamics.

Scattering sparks of thought energy by spicysnakebite

T || No Warnings Apply || Reaper Trio || 1.5k

Techno meets Kristin for the first time when she possesses Phil’s body on her "vacation". The slow build-up to Techno’s realization that this isn’t Phil is simultaneously heart-warming and eerie, which is exactly how I think Kristin should be portrayed <3. Plus, it has a nice little emerald duo reunion at the end. Warm and spooky and good. 

there is also opportunity by Sexytrash

T || No Warnings Apply || Non-trad SBI || 6.5k

After years as the main attraction in an alien fighting arena, Techno is rescued by three strangers who actually make the effort to communicate with him. Space Orcs trope my beloved. This portrayal of Techno strikes a good balance between humor, competence, and trauma, plus some emotional vulnerability at the end. First work in a great series.

28 Days of Delirium by AuricAxis

G || No Warnings Apply || Emduo || 16k

When Techno gets lost in the End, he stumbles across Phil who has been lost there for much longer. Together, they try to figure out an escape. Cosmic horror vibes– something is subtly Off about Phil, and Techno has quite an encounter in a later scene– but this fic also has some really great hurt/comfort and friendship building. Also Ian Bealio is there LOL

That's all for now! Happy reading <3

(Previous batch here)

[mikeseagull]

HEARTWARMING: Ex Communications Officer Douglas, "Alone again, just me, and the voices," Eiffel awarded Honorary Participation Bronze Medal in Next Ms. Texas on account of thirteen consecutive years of applying and being turned down.

We Reached Out To The Current Two Year Streak Holder For Ms. Texas, Zakkarie Johnson. He Had This To Say:

"What? Why would I give a shit about that loser? All he does is awful impressions and millennial Facebook Gags. There's a reason that fuck's never made it past the open auditions. Oh my fly- shit my bad- fuck - fuck sorry my dick fell out hold on so-"

At this point our reporter notified, "Ack,"'s Manager, Beck, of his behavior, at which the beloved Ms Texas Star's manager started verbally assaulting our reporter on account of a presumed sexual interest in the Star himself.

To the friends and family of intern Michael, we offer our grave condolences.

NEXT UP: This UnderDog Rival Duo is Soaring Ahead in The Will-They-Wont-They Arena, At A Pace Scheduled to OverTake The Current Championship Holders, The MaxwellSkippilot Murderers. Investigations go Further In The Mystery Penis Noose Cases. FRESH DAIL ART PREDICTED COMING IN FROM THE WEST AT A SPEED OF 57 KNOTS PER SECOND. A- A- A-

ALL OF THIS AND MORE ON 53.4: THE GULL EVERY NIGHT ONCE THE EDDIES HIT

[gaburona]

@rockheadcd​    //     ↣ ↣ girl help the champions are killing each other !! ↢ ↢

Ah.

There it is.

Vigor.

It’s the reminder of just what kept their positions at the top—among legends, becoming legends. Overcoming. Persevering.

Killing.

( oh, that’s not a good sign )

Steven resists the urge to reach out for Mega Metagross, but the motion feels as if he’s requested aloud, and the bastion slides back. Fingers caress the tips of silver spikes, but they’re twitching. He’s in pain while he’s not bleeding—but damned if he didn’t feel like he was thriving. For every hit felt like he’d bear it himself, and he had to, he must. They must come out on top—he must come out on top.

Cynthia’s room was much more technical than that of Steven’s, in their respective leagues—each cyan spotlight illuminates different facets of the creatures that dwelled in there, an eerie, painfully not quite human glow under their chins, the undersides of high cheeks. An onlooker may not have known just what was transpiring between them, but down there, among the steel plates and the cameras, the traces of neon rings gasping towards the ceiling. It’s steadier than their gasps that shudder in their throats.

It’s certainly steadier than their state of mind.

Steven’s never wanted to sink his hands into somebody’s flesh this bad in a long, long time.

( that’s… that’s not a good sign )

His jaw’s killing him, it’s sore—there’s the distinct taste of iron in the back of his throat. This is what it was like to have a bond with one’s longest partner, to bear the weight and sins as if he was there grappling with Cynthia himself. His limbs hurt so bad they hurt good, bracing each terrible slice of Mega Garchomp’s razor-like appendages, feeling the brunt of full force at high speed. Every charge engaged muscles taut, the very real expression of strain visible on his features—he was in pain from every side, be it psychological or physical or both.

It fucking hurts, but he loves every second of it. This is why battles were really fun—to fight with everything he had on the line ( this was supposed to be practice, but it got too real too quickly when the both of them sent out their beloved aces ).

But, despite the strain, the thundering in his veins, the way such a normally composed champion was disheveled and sweating from exertion—Steven mirrors the twisted smile he can see from across the arena. The glint of pearl, sharp, the inexplicable details when trainer matches partner. They raised such perfect killing machines that they themselves were not immune to the primal instincts that kept these Pokémon alive to begin with.

( but who am i to care when it feels this good to fight for my life )

Her gaze was a harvest moon, no longer the deep burnished steel that reflects the colors of whom she lays her eyes upon.

His own was no longer the shimmering celestine—instead, dripped in crimson, blood diamonds that matched his dear partner. They were in as perfect sync as the duo before them, and with such perfection, created the nightmare that had done plenty in ruining the sanctity of this particular facility. As far as they were concerned, this was the morgue. With the gashes and debris that littered about them, nothing would survive, untagged, left unidentified.

A wry grin splits Steven’s expression, sclera tinted with the cold calculations that Mega Metagross was known to have. It was perfect, disgusting, violence. His breaths are more like pants, keying in on some mutual predator instinct buried somewhere in what was supposed to be one of the most charismatic trainers known alive.

And he loved every moment of it.

His arms extend out, burning with gashes under the sleeves of his jacket, hands coming together even as they tremble under the strain. He can’t think of anything except for the next fifteen moves ahead, and the desire to maim, to destroy, to rip apart.

“—Meteor Mash.”

     her room is the very topmost jewel upon the wintry crown of sinnoh, meant to withstand even the fiercest of battles for those who would brazenly dare to reach for her throne, to end this years long reign of hers . but oh, this is no battle . this is not practice . this is not recreation .

     this is war . this is life and death . this is so, so much more thrilling .

     it is the desire to reach out with her hand, to tear a warpath down this fellow champion, down this monstrous and many armed beast, that would dare tread upon her territory with her nails until the ground is stained in their vibrant lifeblood and magnetic force . to watch it stagnate and smear, darken against the air until it is like ink . it is the unfiltered and uncontrollable rage that boils blood beneath this mortal coil hers, the desire to reach out and pluck those conniving rubies from his skull and let them gaze upon his own body like a mirror until she crushes them in her palm .

     ( remember yourself . remember yourself, and remember him . you are friends . you are not enemies ... right ? )

     it is the way that there is no longer a line where cynthia akula ( shirona suzuki ) the human and dirge the garchomp are separated . the dam is not broken, it is well and truly overtaken, swallowed up in a frothing and roiling mass of emotions like a sea of oil set ablaze, and how they both burn just as brightly . they are as one, just like the greatest opposing force she has ever faced down that dares grin and bare his teeth at her-- every ragged inhale mirrored in the synchronized rise of shoulders; and when garchomp reacts before the command even reaches her tongue her body jolts violently to defend herself too .

     it is like a semi trailer when the impact happens -- no, there is a brief moment of disconnect the very millisecond titans clash and meteor mash lands firmly upon mega garchomp’s arms, thrown up in attempt to guard itself . a break in connection as though to try and shield her from the brute force of the impact .

     and that clarity lets her be certain of herself: a semi trailer ought to be a mercy to what this will be .

     and it is . wild and striking gold gaze focuses once more upon her own arms, thrown up before her as though she herself was taking the attack . they shake without control, fingers twitching erratically as her body tried to process the immensity of the pain and there is a part of her that fears drawing down her sleeve to find her arm disjointed because she swears, swears it that she could hear a crack .

     ( fear ! that’s exhilarating ! when was the last time you were driven into a corner quite like this ? )

     yet it is all fuel for the rampage in the end . the terrible howling of mega garchomp as it recoils from the trauma of the force, the shrill scream of metal as mega metagross’ body drags against her rough skin, it is all deafening and so very hard to think, but instinct guides her arm as she wildly throws her arm in an arc about her to her right side .

     everything is in shambles now, so why shouldn’t she let the walls come down . if you cannot have this place of yours, why should any other be allowed to call it theirs ( no, wait -- you long for the day that someone else can rise to the occasion, don’t you ? )

     “     garchomp !     “ her voice barely to be heard over the cacophony, but she tugs upon their bond, calls upon it to be remain strong as has been demonstrated before them, even through the red that garchomp sees . and so like pokemon, like trainer, her gaze wavers ... and they do not stare at the great beast that mega metagross is so much as they look through it, beyond, to the other end of this arena .  “     earthquake, now !     “