#because if anyone else gives it to me its been poisoned or has razors

[chainsawcorazon]

Silence - a fable for Asta with Antimagic Demon in what could be... Perhaps a little bit saucy ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)?

Anon, we are birds of a feather, Asta/El Demonio is the only real romance in this manga  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

And thank you for being my last Gothic horror prompt! Happy reading!

~

It's the sordid little details that Asta remembers when he wakes up. He can't remember the place, barely even remembers the colors, but the curve of razor-sharp talons and tendrils of sentient hair never seem to leave him, not even when he's awake and trying his best to suppress his dreams.

He supposes that's what happens when you contract your soul to unearthly creatures.

He's not afraid, of course. If anything, he’s curious. The creature doesn't have the alabaster skin of the nobles he's met in the capital, and it's not stiff, and cold, and unwilling to converse with him. In fact, its black flesh and long limbs seem to move like water. At first, Asta had actually thought that the creature was a mirage. When it spoke, he'd assumed it was made of vapor.

But vapor couldn't lift his chin with a sharp talon, not with movements as dainty as a noblewoman's. But the Anti-Magic Demon did just that – it lifted Asta's chin with its sharp talon, and then it called Asta's headband ugly to his face.

So much for easy beginnings.

Every night, he goes to bed with sweat trickling down his face, and dread settling deep in his core. During the day, he oftentimes finds himself aching for something he doesn't quite understand. It's a feeling unlike any other. It's not like his thirst for validation from his peers and rivals, and very unlike the unholy thoughts he has about Sister Lily, because he's just as useless as any other man, chasing a woman he can never have.

But this, it's different. Sometimes, Asta feels like he's being showcased in front of a crowd, and maybe this newfound desire is a result of having his validation fulfilled by none other than a demon. After all, he barely remembers the dreams, barely remembers what happens after he closes his eyes, but he wants to know. It feels queer – unbelievable, even.

And so Asta does what every other fool does – he buys a sleeping draught off the black market so he'll be forced to remember what happens, just so he can kill his curiosity for good. His dreams are his own, after all.

But when Asta closes his eyes that night, the last thing he expects is to fall down a great, black hole. He screams, of course, cries for Sister Lily and Yuno, hollers for squadmates, anyone really, to save him before he falls to his death, but he doesn't stop falling – at least not until he lands in a dance hall clean on his feet.

A song is just ending when he arrives, clad in a black and gold suit, the first four buttons of his shirt undone, his hair loose, and thick, and a mess. The blazer is black and embroidered with gold, five-leaf clovers. The shoes are thick leather, and his hands – they're as black as night.

His talons are sharper than the demon's.

The crowd around him doesn’t disperse. There's a live band somewhere, fingers tapping on piano keys while someone strums a guitar, but Asta's too short to see where. His vertical curse conjures the perfect blush, and so what if he's huffing and puffing, a man has the right to know where the hell he ends up when he's asleep.

Asta wishes the music was mediocre, but it's not. Another beat, and the tell-tale intonations of scat singing begin to filter through the air. The crowd is ecstatic about the new sound, pairs swinging and dancing across the shining floor while Asta just awkwardly stands there. He's miffed that he wants to sway his hips too, wants to swing with Sister Lily to the mixed rhythm. Maybe he'll wake up soon and the humiliation of being a dateless, magicless little freak will go away.

No one from the crowd approaches him, of course, because who would want to solicit a dance from someone a foot shorter than them? Instead, the individuals are preoccupied with their partners and friends. It is a dream, after all. He can't help but let out a dry laugh. So this is how his deep-rooted loneliness manifests in the dreamscape – a dateless night at the hottest dance hall in town.

Asta wishes that he could have been born just a few inches taller, but a jury would probably argue for a few more brain cells instead, because what happens next isn't a dream, and that's when it all comes together.

The demons arms are around his hips before he knows it. He jumps, of course, his body moving to action almost preternaturally.

But when he turns around, it's not a slithering, black mass that kind of looks like a cross between sentient tar and a bat – instead, it's a man.

No – it's the demon.

Asta has to rub his eyes four times before he can believe what he's seeing. It's the demon, alright, down to the wings, the thick horns, and those disgustingly sharp claws.

But it also has salmon-colored lips and inky black skin that glitters like diamonds. It's tall, inhumanly so, but it's floating just a few inches off the floor, clad in its own suit, its blazer bursting with feathers. Whereas Zagred had been a freak of nature, the outfit matches his demon's deep red eyes, and complements its sharp, white teeth. Stray feathers are scattered across the floor. Asta has the urge to pick one up and offer it as a sign of apology.

“How about a flower instead?” It asks, voice deeper than any man Asta has ever met.

Asta doesn't know where the hell he's supposed to find a flower in a dance hall, but suddenly, he remembers that his blazer has pockets, that his pants have pockets, and he starts to frantically shuffle his hands around to see if maybe there's something, anything that he can give the mystifying creature who's long, black hair falls in waves down its shoulders.

He finds the flower in his breast pocket. It's a lone pink oleander, a few poisonous petals already coming loose in his hands. When he finally looks up at the creature again, it's already lifting his chin with its sharp talon again.

“At least you don't have the ugly headband on tonight,” it drawls casually.

“Where am I?” Asta asks, the flower still in his hand, the only thing standing between the creature and himself.

“A club?” It responds with little interest. It plucks a petal off the flower and rubs it between his thumb and forefinger.

“... a club?” He knows what a club is, has helped Finral pick up Vanessa, Magna, and Yami enough times to know that it's one of those places that won't accept a magicless freak like him.

Come to think of it – where's all the magic?

Asta's eyes dart around in wonder for several seconds before landing on the demon who looks as bored as Yuno does when he has to listen to Asta whine.

It stings, but it's true. It's not like he's anything special – he has to make himself useful, or else everyone will forget about him.

But the creature with glittering black skin, and teeth shinier than the cleanest silverware, stands clad in a suit that oddly matches his own. The demon has its own four buttons undone, and Asta takes a big, loud gulp when he spies the sharp edges of thin collarbones, and smooth black skin against a taut chest.

The demon smirks softly, as if it can hear Asta's thoughts. It's not even looking at him, playing with the flower petal instead, but still, it's smiling.

And Asta can't believe how pretty that smile is.

“Why?” He asks out loud, because this isn't right, the demon is a monster, a freak, something that is actually forbidden, but instead, it's beautiful, so incredibly beautiful that Asta wants to grab it by its waist and swing it around like the men are swinging their women around.

Its red eyes shimmer like disco lights, as if it knows exactly what Asta is thinking. Then finally, it speaks.

“You become less human everyday. What makes you think you'll continue to find.... just humans pretty?”

And it's a realization Asta wishes he didn't have at the tender age of seventeen, just nine weeks short of his eighteenth birthday, and in the presence of a demon, in a bloody dream.

“Oh fuck,” he whispers in awe.

“At least you can dance,” the demon sighs listlessly. “My last contractor only wanted to eat and stare at the cows. How terribly boring.”

Asta doesn't even remember learning how to dance. “I can dance?”

And then the demon finally looks at him, smiling widely, all of its sharp teeth on display for everyone to see. It plucks the oleander out of Asta's hand, and tucks it into its front blazer pocket like it's a makeshift boutonniere. Then it grabs Asta's arm and wraps it around its waist. Suddenly, Asta's heart is floating.

Suddenly, Asta knows how to dance.

“You taught me how to dance,” Asta whispers with awe. “... inside of a dream.”

“Is it really a dream if it's actually happening?” The demon asks as they move to the rhythm, arm in arm.

“I don't know... is it actually happening?”

“Of course it is,” it snaps, like Asta is dumb, which he knows he is. “You can't just come to Hell with me. I have to prepare your mind and your soul. You'll get used to life inside of your dreams, then you'll become bolder when you're awake. Then finally – you'll take me home.”

“So... I don't actually sleep?”

The demon gives him an expression he's no stranger to.

“No,” it deadpans, giving him a glare that speaks volumes of how little it thinks of him. “You're a contractor now. You promised me your life, remember? I can't have you dying and coming back as a slouch. A man needs to know how to dance before he goes to Hell. It's boring and there's no magic, so I'm teaching you now. Be a little grateful.”

Asta twirls the creature around in a full rotation right after it finishes speaking. Flecks of dust gather in the flashing lights, and many more plumes of feathers continue to fall off the demon's blazer as they move across the floor.

“Huh,” Asta whispers finally, his feet tapping to a new beat thrumming in the air. “Who would've thought?”

“If you'd let your brain naturally ease you in, then you wouldn't look so stupid right now, would you?” The demon grumbles into his ear before placing its cheek against his shoulder.

Asta finds himself tenderly embracing the creature as the music shifts to a soft ballad. Its hair is soft against his cheek, and its body is thin and frail, and Asta can't help but pull it closer, so close that he can deduce every aspect of its scent.

“I hope the sleeping draught was worth it,” the demon yawns from his shoulder.

Asta doesn't get to answer, because the next thing he knows, he's awake.

“Fuck,” he breathes shakily.

“Fuck, indeed,” Yami deadpans next to him. Asta screams and scrambles away from the towering man.

“Captain Yami!” Asta squeaks, like he's a rat and not three hundred pounds of pure muscle.

Yami looks bored, as usual, but there's also confusion in his eyes. “Chibi... what the fuck are you doing in the kitchen?”

“Huh?”

“You eat Charmy's leftovers? She'll kill ya.”

Asta rubs his eyes, blinks several times, and rubs his eyes again before looking around at his surroundings. He's not in his room anymore, and no where near a dance call. He's in the base's kitchen, sitting in grease and dust, soot on his nose.

“Chibi!” Yami barks again. “Stop sleeping in the kitchen!” He growls, bonking Asta on the skull. “You're gonna make people think I can't afford accommodations for my own Knights. Think of my reputation, will ya? Asshole!”

With that, Yami bonks him on the head again before trudging out of the room. Asta notices him slipping a few prepackaged cinnamon buns into his trouser pockets, but opts to keep his mouth shut. When his captain is far enough away, Asta slumps down on his back and stares at the great, wide ceiling.

Cherries and pine – that's the scent he's so desperately ached for these past few weeks since he'd made the contract. That's what he desires.

“Do you like cherries?” Asta wonders out loud.

The demon doesn't answer, but he chalks that up to it sleeping inside his chest. It's not in his grimoire anymore, of course, because the grimoire will die with him when it's time. Now, the demon is sleeping inside of him, housed in a tiny part of Asta's soul. Maybe one day, when he's more accustomed to its presence, they will meet in the room it sleeps in, instead of dance halls and wherever else they've been in, in his dreams.

“I hope you like cherries,” Asta says out loud. “I'll bring you some next time.”

And somewhere, deep down, he hopes he can hand-feed the monster sleeping in his chest, because the more he thinks about it, the deeper he falls into the hole.

“Come to think of it,” Asta mumbles to himself as he picks himself off the greasy floor, “you're kinda pretty.”

And Asta can feel it chuckle in response, and that makes him happy, because that means it's awake, and that it knows, and suddenly, it's not so bad that there's a great, big abomination living inside his chest.

It's a pretty little thing, after all.

[justjessame]

The Deal Chapter 35

Negan didn’t take Carl and me somewhere and ditch our bodies after beating our brains out with his best girl, Lucille. Sadly. Instead, he took us on a road trip. Back to Alexandria. He regaled us, the entire way there with all the ways that he COULD have killed Carl. How he could have forced me to have to watch him put down my baby brother for daring to attack as he had.

I let his bullshit roll over me. I’m learning, slowly, that Negan loves the sound of his own voice. And he truly adores putting fear into the hearts of those who allow it. Instead, I watch out the windshield as we drive along the road. Abandoned cars. A smattering of walkers. And the feeling of being fully aware of everything for the first time in a long time.

When we arrive at the gates, no one dares to stop us from coming inside. With both Carl and me at his side, Negan makes his way to Dad’s house. And, instead of walking in like he owns the place, which I’d expected, he knocks. Olivia, the woman who’d kept the inventory for the armory and pantry answered, and I wondered if she was my replacement in my former house.

I can’t remember having much interaction with her before, when I was still an Alexandrian. It doesn’t strike me as very strange how intimidated she seems by Negan. He’s a hard pill to swallow when he’s trying to play therapist, but when he’s just being himself, well then you see an asshole in full bloom. She tries to get rid of us, because whether she understands or not, Negan and I are a matched set right now. She tells Negan that Dad is out scavenging, that he probably won’t be back by the end of today. I wonder if Michonne went with him, and that’s why she’s here, to watch my baby sister.

She talks about how they’re low on supplies, how they’re practically starving, and then Negan shows just how fucking charming he is. A raised eyebrow. He looks her up and down and insults her by insinuating that since she’s curvy, that he doubts her sincerity. And, yes, I’m editing his bullshit, because it was disgustingly mean. He catches my eye, and sees my glare, so he tries his hand at apologizing.

Of course, this is Negan we’re talking about so once he tries to say sorry in his own classy way, he follows up with an offer that has me rolling my damn eyes. “I think it would be enjoyable to screw your brains out. I mean if, you know, you’re agreeable to it.” Dear fucking Christ, does he have a filter at all?

And Olivia, who I can’t recall much about, does something that has me fucking grinning from ear to ear. She slaps him straight across his smug, arrogant face. The crack makes my heart sing.

Negan ruins the fucking experience by telling her, after she rocks his fucking head on his shoulders with that slap, “I’m about fifty percent more into you now. Just saying.” Ugh. Seriously? He catches whatever look I have on my face, smirks at me, and winks. Could he be more crude and annoying?

He dismisses her, letting her leave his royal presence to fix lemonade that he knows he left behind. Powered lemonade is his newest whim, and I wonder if Olivia had it in her to fucking poison him.

Of course, we couldn’t just drop my little brother off at home, get back in the damn box-truck, and head the fuck back from whence we came. Now, where would Negan’s fun be in that?

Olivia, acting as though I’m an enemy too, stays in the house as Negan takes a grand tour. Taking off his boots, testing the carpet in Carl’s room with his bare feet, I have to wonder if he’s truly enjoying the feel of it because of the novelty, or if he’s checking to see if wiping his bare ass across it would cause him discomfort. Watching the steady stream of water as though he’s never had it before. He looked around what had been my room with interest. Uncomfortable interest, as though he’d find something more about me. Good luck.

And then, as we passed the room where Judith sleeps, he goes to open the door and I shake my head and tell him it’s just another empty room. He squints at me, and puts his hand on the doorknob.

“Really?” I ask him, raising my eyebrow. “Why are you interested in empty rooms?”

He calls my bluff and opens the door, and there she is. My little sister, the ONLY thing I regret leaving behind. And the ONE person in the world that I wanted to protect, from him, from the world at large and he’s found her.

“Oh my!” He doesn’t raise his voice, as he draws nearer to her, and handing Carl his precious Lucille, he almost seems in awe of her. “Look at this little angel.” And then she’s in his arms, and he’s being incredibly gentle with her, as he looks over her sweet blonde curls at me. His tenderness is a surprise, even if he’d never shown me the mean streak I knew ran in him.

Judith is holding a stuffed elephant as he bounces her gently in his arms. He takes a minute to study her, and then looks once again at me. And I wonder at the clear question in his eyes. What could Negan possibly want with this? With Dad’s life? With mine?

Negan makes himself at home in Dad’s house. He shaves with Dad’s straight razor, giving Carl advice like “against the grain, always go against the grain”. He’d handed Judith to me before he went into the bathroom, and I started to turn away, to take her somewhere alone, but he stopped me. “No, sweetheart, you both stay.” Shooting a look at my brother he corrects himself. “All three of you stay.” Which is why I’m having my unscheduled visit with my baby sister in full view of the man I’d assumed would kill me.

While he’s shaving, giving out advice to Carl, he keeps watching me with her. As I quietly talk to her, running my hand down her soft curls, and checking her for signs that she missed me. Even a tiny bit. I can’t stop myself from kissing her head. From entertaining her with her stuffed animal. And I work hard to block out Negan’s interest. Pretending that he’s not filing my reactions away for another round of my therapy when we head back to his domain.

He fixes dinner. Spaghetti sauce from scratch. Noodles, obviously. And he enlists Carl to make rolls. Me? For once, since I offered myself in Glenn’s place, he allowed me to sit at the dining room table and have peace away from him. Still in view, of course, but at a distance. With Judith. And get lost in her, if only for a little bit.

Olivia returned with the lemonade, and I could feel her glaring at me. Her urge to grab Judith from my arms, to keep her safe from ME was clear as a bell on her face. I could also tell that Negan had noticed. “Be a lamb, Olivia, be a lamb.” He was reiterating what he’d said when he requested the lemonade earlier, only now the term that I’d taken as a taunt to the other woman, took on a new meaning. A warning, I could hear it in his voice. A threat, a reminder of who he was, and that I was with him was so evident that she rushed into the kitchen to make the drink.

Once dinner was prepared, we settled around the table, looking for all the world like a family dinner with a tinge of hostage situation. There’s an extra place setting, but I’m so wrapped up in my baby sister that I don’t pay attention to the why. I’d kept Judith on my lap, but we didn’t start to eat. Negan, clearly waiting for something, or someone. And I knew, he was holding dinner for Dad. A picture he’d created, a scene that would fuck with Dad’s head a little bit more. His children, a member of his community, and the very man who’d bested him, around his very own dining room table with a meal fit for a Sunday dinner from before the world turned to shit.

Negan has the patience of a toddler. Eventually he realized that Dad wasn’t going to return just because he’d set the stage. He finally gave in and asked Carl to pass the rolls. I hated to admit it, and I damn sure wouldn’t let him know, but he made a sauce that rivaled the Italian place that I’d loved while at college. I fed Judith from her own plate. I drank a bit of the lemonade that Olivia had made. And I tried, very hard, to ignore the feeling that Negan was watching me closely.

After eating, Negan decided it was perfect weather to sit on the porch and take in the scenery. He held out his arms, once he’d taken off his jacket, and I reluctantly handed Judith back to him. He took one chair and Carl took another. Negan looked like he was enchanted by my little sister. That in her he saw something that he hadn’t seen in far too long. Did I trust it? That he wasn’t dangerous to her? No. I didn’t. Not because he’d shown violence to me or her, but because the need to keep her safe. The need to make sure that she remained innocent of the world and its dangers was one of the few things that I’d never felt numb to was amplified by my mask developing the cracks that Negan’s meddling had created.

I leaned against the banister in front of them. Close to Negan, since she was in his arms, and I hadn’t noticed that Carl’s eyes were taking in my behavior, and Negan’s.

“So my sister doesn’t get to sit?” He bit out, glaring with his one unruined eye. “She has to stay quiet, she has to just blindly follow you around?”

I closed my eyes to his challenge. He didn’t get it. And I had a feeling no one, not even the rest of my family understood. Why I’d done it, why I had to stay beside him. Carl didn’t see me. No better than anyone else had. Dad had only had a glimpse, and even he didn’t get it.

“Have you seen me order her to stand?” Negan asked. “Have you seen me tell her not to look at you or speak to you?” He was challenging my brother’s assumptions. “Jesus, were you this fucking blind before you lost your eye?” I opened my eyes to see him cradling Judith to his chest. His voice stayed low, quite even, careful not to scare her. “I’ve been thinking about what you’d said earlier, Carl. Maybe it is stupid keeping you and your dad alive.” He pulled Judith forward, bouncing her on his knee and seemingly speaking to her. “I mean why am I trying so hard? Maybe I should just bury you both down there in those flower beds.” A gesture to the manicured lawn in front of us. He was staring into Judith’s tiny face, smiling and chuckling. “And then I can just settle in the suburbs.”

My heart clenched. Fear blossoming in my chest at the thought that my deal with him was all for nothing. That my brother’s actions, that his clear challenge of Negan’s power and his seeming inability to wipe all of us out was a sign that he was weak.

We’d gone back inside Dad’s house. Negan grew tired of taunting my brother and the neighbors. Judith was fussy, too much excitement I’d guessed. He’d given her back to me, watching as I rocked her in my arms and hummed to her. He followed me upstairs to put her down for her nap. Ignoring the dagger glare of Olivia, ignoring Carl’s unasked questions, the hurt that had flickered across his face when he decided that my silence was my own choice.

I was staring down at Judith as she drifted off to sleep clutching her elephant. Leaving her, today, would be more painful than my realization that I'd given her up for the ‘greater good’ had been. Holding her, feeling the rush of feelings that I’d gone numb to, the unconditional love I had for her, made it all the rawer. He watched me, leaning in the doorway, keeping his distance, letting me have this at least.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for the maternal type, Jessi.” He kept his voice down, so Judith could rest. “I didn’t know that you fucking had her here, that she depended on you.” I could feel the intensity of his attention. “That you sacrificed your need for HER when you offered your life to me.”

I hadn’t noticed the tear falling. Didn’t even feel the usual burn warning that I would cry. His thumb brushed it from my cheek, startling me since I hadn’t heard him come closer. I kept my head down, drinking in Judith’s tiny person. Savoring it, memorizing it, so I could take this little piece of her with me. “Do you want to stay?” It was barely a breath. “Jessi, do you want to stay?”

I shook my head. A deal was a deal. And I wasn’t a shirker. Plus, I’d seen the look on Olivia’s face. The judgement. The insinuation that I was a traitor. A turncoat. In bed, I imagined her look inferred, with the enemy.

“No, I don’t want to stay.” I answered, keeping my voice as quiet as he did. “There’s nothing left here for me, nothing aside from her.” I couldn’t stop myself from running my hand down her back. Touching the softness that I’d taken care of for so damn long. “And she has other people for that now, to keep her safe.” It hurt to acknowledge that I was so easily replaced. That Dad had handed her care, her safety over without effort.

He left me there, letting me have my quiet and solace in the company of a sleeping little girl that had become my only reason to keep the motions going. The only reason that I kept up my mask. The only reason that I’d survived, even if I wasn’t living.

[stratuscloudsurfer]

Champion Stadium Hard Level 1 Strategy Guide

Ok, since I had fits with the champion stadium (especially round 3), and I’m hard pressed to find any strategy for it yet, I’m going to share the exact teams and order I used to finally attain victory, in hopes of helping someone else do the same.

WARNING LONG POST UNDER THE CUT

Round 1: (Parameter: Use status conditions and other conditions against all opponents!) Lorelei

So, Leaf was basically tailor made for this battle against Lorelei. Use razor leaf turn 1, and all three opponents will most likely get badly poised. From there, I set up Mega Healing and used Dawn to buff defense, freeing Brendan up to do his thing. Lorelei’s team went down pretty quickly, mostly thanks to the massive amount of poison damage. 

I think other sync pairs that would work well during Round 1 are Koga, Lyra, or Rosa. In hindsight, I wish I had used Lyra or Rosa in lieu of Dawn, as the extra healing she provided was altogether unnecessary due to how fast my opponents went down to poison damage and Sceptile’s leaf storm. 

Also, I know that the game recommends you take out the two pokemon on the sides first, but I went into this round without reading the tips, and took out Lapras first. I’m not sure how much of a difference it would make to take out the other two first, but taking out the center mon first worked out for me in this round. 

Round 2: (Parameter: Use sync moves quickly against all opponents!) Bruno

Sygna suit Blue came in SUPER clutch this battle. His move “To the Top!” was super useful in accelerating the move gauge for Kris’s Mega Kick. I used one at the beginning, and the second one when the first one ran out. Hilbert, of course, is an ideal support for Kris. His attack and speed boosts get rid of the need for Kris to waste any turns using her attack boosts, freeing her up to straight up attack right off the bat. 

As for strategy, mine was basically to spam Mega Kick over and over again. Again, I focused on taking down the center mon first. One recommendation I have is to use Blue’s sync move on your first opportunity. This activates Force Field 4, which will give your team a Sp. Def buff, as well as the Safety Net. The fact that Blue and Hilbert could survive one more attack meant that the opponent’s pokemon had other targets to get through before they could take out Kris. I truly believe this ability got me the W in the end. 

I think other sync pairs that would work well for this parameter might be Siebold and Clawitzer paired with Winona and any other support that could boost special attack. If you don’t have Hilbert but do have Kris, Maylene would be a great support for her, as well. 

Round 3: (Make use of special damage reductions to battle opponents with high Sp. Atk!) Lance

Round three was, hands down, the hardest one for me. I spent AGES trying to take down Lance with all kinds of different combinations of sync pairs. It was especially frustrating because the opposing Lance’s Dragonite was practically indestructible with its Clearheaded ability, which prevented the confusion it otherwise would have hit itself in probably a thousand times due to spamming Outrage over and over. 

I tried for a long time to use Lyra in lieu of MC and Torchic, as I wanted to save her for Blue, but I had no other choice. MC’s “Blazing Hope!” was absolutely necessary to boost the power of Lance’s Hyper Beam. My strategy was to use both “Blazing Hope”s and Drake’s Special Defense boosts at the very beginning of the battle as quickly as possible, then fire off Hyper Beams at the pokemon on either sides. I at first tried to take out the center mon first like in the previous battles, but this time, it was impossible to win any other way than to take out the side mons first. 

I burned up MC’s two attack boosts to get down to my Lance’s first sync move, and used Drake’s “Hard to Starboard!” just before the opposing Lance could use his sync move, which is helpful because it had the additional effect of charging up the move gauge and allowing my Lance to fire off more Hyper Beams. I used Lance’s potions to heal up MC’s Torchic and keep it alive as long as possible. I saved both “Now or Never!”s until the very end of the battle, then used them both in between two Hyper Beams that delivered the final blow to the opposing Lance’s extremely infuriating Dragonite. 

All this being said, I think I probably battled Lance a good 50 times before I got the W. Other combinations I tried was swapping Zinnia for Lance and Maylene for MC, but neither of those worked very well, I think due to the lack of healing capability. I think Zinnia could be useful in this battle if you had the Clearheaded ability unlocked as a lucky skill and a support sync pair that had healing capability, such as Dawn or Skyla. Additionally, I had to fully unlock Drake’s type skills, and my MC’s potential was boosted up to 4 1/2 stars. 

Round 4: (Parameter: Use sync moves as much as possible against all opponents!) Agatha

I actually tried versing Agatha in Round 3 Acerola, Fantina, and Pheobe, but found it to be even more impossible than Lance on the 3rd round, which is why I decided to save her for last. 

Elesa was definitely the MVP of this battle. I took a look at her sync grid and unlocked it to the point that I could get the MP refresh for “Breathtaking!” and it was a game changer. I used up both of her Special Attack boosts and Acerola’s Defense boosts the beginning of the battle, then targeted the side mons first with Fantina’s Shadow Ball. I used up Acerola’s “Over Here!” right before Agatha’s Gengar could use it’s sync move, which would allow Elesa’s Rotom to stay alive and continue using “Breathtaking!” to get down to Fantina’s sync move continuously. I waited until Gengar was the only pokemon left to use Fantina’s two “Dance with Me!”s so that I could fire off the two Shadow Balls that delivered the death blow. 

If you don’t have Fantina, I think that Shauntal would be an excellent swap in for her. In place of Elesa, Rosa or Cheren would probably be good support mons, especially with Cheren’s full heal to get rid of the self-inflicted burn that would probably take Shauntal out fairly quickly otherwise. I’m sure Morty would be good as well, but I can’t speak for him because I don’t have him. I highly recommend Acerola as at least one of your allies for this team, though, as her type skills were super helpful fully unlocked. 

Round 5: (Parameters: Use physical attacks against opponents with low defense! / Use status conditions and other conditions against all opponents!) Blue

I hated to be so cliche as to use Red against Blue, but... well, he’s obscenely strong, so I had to do it to him. This was the exact team I used. I chose the status effects condition with Flannery in mind, and let me tell you, it was the right decision. I actually intended to level all of these guys up to max before I challenged Blue, but I ran completely out of level up materials, and so decided just to go ahead and challenge him to get a feel for how the battle would be. I didn’t expect to win on the first try, but this team brought me to a solid and swift victory. 

Skyla is an ideal partner for Red because her “Take Flight!”s negate the massive drop in both defenses that Charizard incurs after using “My Destiny!” My strategy in this battle was to use both “My Destiny!”s and “Take Flight!”s at the very beginning of the battle, then to burn Blue’s Exeggutor with Will-O-Wisp immediately after the status boosts. I unlocked Skyla’s sync grid enough to get the MP refresh for Potion, which was super duper helpful. I think it refreshed a good 5 times, allowing me to heal her up to survive all the attacks directed at her, as well as her two allies after Blue’s sync move had been used. With Red, I spammed Heat Wave before and after his sync move until both side mons went down, then used a couple of Blast Burns to take down Blue’s Exeggutor. 

Other sync pairs that I think have potential for this battle are Flint in lieu of Red and Blaine in lieu of Flannery. Of course, MC and Torchic would be a great support for this battle, as well. 

And there you have it! Now of course, I’m not a Pokemon Masters expert, or am in any way claiming to be. I just hoped that my struggle could perhaps help someone else out with this challenge. Also, if anyone else has beat the Champion Stadium with other sync pairs, I would love to hear what you used! 

[lil-meow-meow-goes-rawr]

Tragedy Strikes

⚔︎ Previous Chapters: Trouble Brews, Illusions

⚔︎ Pairing: Jungkook x OC

⚔︎ Genre: Medieval Fantasy, Knight!Jungkook, Knight!Hoseok, Wizard!Yoongi, King!Namjoon, Prince!Taehyung, Prince!Jimin, Brothers!Yoonjin

⚔︎ Warnings: major character death, mentions of blood, large wounds, mentions of minor character deaths

⚔︎ Rating: 13+

⚔︎ Synopsis: Despite losing Jungkook, Emelyn is able to locate the wizard, Yoongi. He agrees to help her find and cure the knight, but things take a dark turn when fate intervenes. 

⚔︎ Word Count: 10.1K

⚔︎ Masterlist

Perhaps it was the sinking sun, or the razor-sharp wind on my back which gave way to my foul mood. My day had been spent searching, yet there had been no sign of Jungkook or the moon dragon. As the moon rose to take the sun’s place in the sky, I began to feel discouraged. Where would a dragon go to avoid being found? Why was it so difficult to find something so large?

I blew out a frustrated breath as I sat beside the small fire I had managed to light. Another day had come and gone. Another day in which I had not been able to locate Jungkook and my family had been left to fight for their lives. I could not keep riding in circles. It was clear the dragon did not wish to be found. I would need to acquire some assistance.

Glancing up at the mountain in the distance, I felt my heart begin to race at the mere thought of traveling there alone. The idea of braving Blood Mountain with Jungkook beside me had not seemed such a daunting task. Yet now I was forced to face it alone. I knew every tale, every horror that was ever told about the mountain. I was there the night it received its name. Some of the bravest and most skilled knights had attempted to cross over the mountain, yet only a few managed to complete the journey alive.

Taehyung would often recount the tales he had heard from the knights. Tales of horror and misery. Stories which kept me on the edge of my seat, yet they had been nothing more than a fairytale to me. Sitting here now, staring up at the mountain looming over me, the stories became so very real.

“Emelyn,” Taehyung giggled, sliding onto the bench beside me, “I overheard the most thrilling tale last night while the cooks prepared our meal. It seems another knight was granted a quest.”

“Blood Mountain?” I guessed, my eyes glowing with anticipation as I leaned in further, soaking up every word the boy spoke.

Taehyung’s grin grew. “Yes! One of Father’s knights was given a quest to cross over the mountain. He made his return only yesterday.”

“He survived?”

“I do not believe anyone expected him to. It has only been one month since he has joined our knights. Two weeks ago, he was sent on his own to face the horrors of the mountain.”

“Did he tell you what he saw?”

Taehyung shook his head sadly. “He has not said much since his return, I’m afraid. It was the servant assigned to him who finally managed to garner a few words about his journey. The magic, Emelyn, it is unlike anything we have ever seen. Ryia’s magic would appear to be mere child’s play if put against it. The knight spoke of an unforgiving wind. One which penetrates to your bones and never ceases. If you are to remain out in the wind, you will not survive for more than a day.”

I leaned in closer still, crossing my legs under me and resting my chin on the palm of my hand. I had heard the stories told of the mountain before, yet they never once ceased to draw me in. I could not get enough. Though the tales sent a cold shiver of fear down my spine, and I would most likely not sleep the night through, I wanted to hear everything. Taehyung knew of my interest in the mountain and would always humor me with more stories he had heard.

“Blood Mountain, just as we have imagined, is a place of sorcery. The blood of those slain on the night the mountain first received its name, cries out for vengeance. Even the creatures that live there are not to be trifled with. The knight spoke of pixies and the many harmless pranks which they pulled on him. Yet he also spoke of more terrifying creatures, such as the basilisk.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. Snakes had always been a creature I feared, the basilisk being the most feared of all. One bite from a basilisk’s fangs would kill a full-grown man within days. The poison moved through the body slowly and painfully until it finally claimed the heart, sometimes so much as weeks after the initial bite. There was no known cure for the poison. If a man were unlucky enough to encounter a basilisk, he would not expect to live on for much longer.

When I returned my attention to Taehyung, I noticed he had become much more somber. He had gotten lost in his own thoughts and from the look on his face, they were not pleasant.

“Do you remember that night?” Taehyung asked, his voice growing unnaturally quiet.

I bit my lip as I finally sat straight once more.

“I still do not understand why magic had to be outlawed. What harm was it doing to anyone?”

“Magic killed the King’s daughter.” I reminded him.

“Yes, but magic has also saved many lives. Just as there is in everything else, magic is made up of good and evil.”

“Magic is not evil.” I corrected. “It is the people who use the magic which create the evil. Evil lies in the hearts of man.”

Taehyung shook his head sadly. “All those people hunted down and slaughtered, simply because they were born with the ability to wield a power not all of us were given. The king did not even allow them the chance to leave. I can still hear the cries from when the knights chased them up to the mountain.”

“And now it is that blood which gives the mountain its power.”

“Do you think anyone will ever restore the mountain to its natural wonder?”

I sighed as I stood from the bench. Turning to Taehyung, I offered him a sad smile. “I do hope so, Tae. I truly do hope so.”

Memories plagued my dreams that night. Memories of children screaming and mothers wailing; swords being drawn and villagers crying out in protest to the slaughter. After the death of the King’s daughter, it had not taken more than a day for the ban on magic to be announced. No one had been prepared for it. Those who could, ceased their practice immediately, fearing what the King may do to them if they did not. For those who had been born into magic and had no say in whether they kept it or not, the day became a nightmare.

The next morning, I began the harsh journey up into the mountain. The further I rode, the denser the trees became and the colder the wind blew. Never once had I imagined myself, forced to live out the same tales in which Taehyung and I had spent hours amusing ourselves with.

Beneath me, my horse trembled. This had not been an easy journey for her. I could not force her to go on much further without stopping to rest, yet everywhere I turned, the shadows seemed to move, daring me to stop and wait among them.

My horse heard it before I did. The mare had never attempted to throw me before, yet with one sudden spin and a bolt in the opposite direction, I found myself sprawled on the ground, left to watch helplessly as my horse galloped back the way we’d come.

“Why?” I called after her, my fear turning to a sudden bout of anger. “What possessed you to do that?”

The mare disappeared through the trees, taking my sword and my chance of survival with her. A shaky breath escaped my lips as I slowly turned to take in my surroundings. Everywhere I turned, it all seemed to look the same. There was no sign of human life anywhere. Perhaps Ryia’s tale of the wizard was simply that - a tale. Who’s to say I had not journeyed all this way only to find that the wizard did not truly live here, or even exist?

Grumbling slightly, I pushed myself up from the ground and brushed the dead leaves from my dress. Whether Yoongi lived here or not, my top priority became finding a place to make camp. It was beginning to grow dark and I knew I would not be able to survive in the night if I were to keep going.

It was then that I heard it. A low, angry hissing sounded from the small bush beside my foot, a few mere inches from where my head had just been. Slowly, I turned toward the sound. Barely visible beneath the lowest branches, curled up tightly against the roots with its crown on full display, sat one of the most feared creatures known to man – a basilisk. I choked out a strangled noise as I stared at it. The large yellow eyes regarded me with an anger that was just barely controlled. I had disturbed its nest, and it was not pleased to see me.

Swallowing hard, I slowly began backing away, but quickly froze again when it snapped at the movement. Hardly longer than my foot, the snake’s size was not so intimidating. Yet what it lacked in size, it made up for in speed.

A part of me knew I was not going to survive this situation. No one was around. Jungkook was still missing and I had no idea as to where Yoongi resided. I was left on my own, face to face with possibly the last creature I would ever see. Still, I wasn’t about to simply give in. I would not just stand there frozen, waiting for someone to appear. There had to be something I could do.

The creature quickly grew impatient, its anger only growing the longer I remained in its space. Faster than I could blink, it sprang out from beneath the branches. Its tiny jaws unhinging as it latched onto my ankle.

A scream clawed its way up my throat as I attempted to kick it off me. Yet the more I kicked at it, the tighter its grip became. A fire blazed at my ankle but quickly moved up into my leg and I crashed to the ground, my chin connecting with a large stone. With my free foot, I began kicking mercilessly at the creature’s head yet even that did not seem to deter it.

A blast of deep purple light suddenly blasted the basilisk squarely on the head. I froze, watching in shock as the snake released my ankle and began writhing around on the ground. After a moment, the creature went limp, its body lying motionless beside me. I stared at it, unsure of what had just transpired. Was it dead?

I nearly screamed when it suddenly sprang to life again and quickly slithered away, only to return to its original position beneath the bush.

A sigh of relief fell from my lips as my head hit the ground with a light thud and I hissed at the searing pain in my ankle when I attempted to move it. The basilisk may have left, but in the end it did not matter. The large, red wounds on my ankle proved my demise.

“That bite looks bad.”

I yelped and scrambled back at the sudden voice beside me. My head shot up only to find a young man staring at me in shock. Except his eyes weren’t looking at me, they were trained on the two puncture wounds which now adorned my ankle.

“Who are you?” I demanded, using every bit of self-control I had to keep from screaming in pain as I retreated.

For a moment, the man didn’t answer. He continued to stare at the spot my ankle had been just seconds ago. His eyes glazed over as he got lost inside his own thoughts. It wasn’t until I cleared my throat that he returned to the present.

“My apologies,” he quickly crouched down to my level, so as to be a bit less intimidating, “I heard someone scream and came to see what was happening.”

“Who are you?” I repeated.

With a shy smile, he bowed his head slightly in greeting. “My name is Yoongi. I live just through the trees there.”

I nearly choked as I took in the man before me. He was nothing quite like how I imagined him to be. Not much older than I was, the man did not seem like someone who would practice dragon magic. The word which came to mind as I took in his presence was ‘delicate’. Soft, dark curls fell just above a pair of the kindest eyes I had ever seen. His lips seemed to be drawn in a permanent pout and his cheek reminded me of Jimin’s young cousin. There was a simple boyish charm to him, yet his eyes reflected wisdom far past his years.

“You are Yoongi? The wizard known for using dragon magic?”

He cringed. “I am still learning.”

“But you do know it?”

“To an extent, yes. Although I have spent years studying it, one can never truly improve without first putting their skills into practice. That is not an easy task when there are no means in which to do so. Magic that powerful cannot be used for any mundane thing.”

“I need your help.” I blurted, worried he may leave before I got the chance to ask.

“I can see that. Basilisk bites are a nasty business. One cannot treat it on their own. It takes a certain type of skill.”

I shook my head. “No, not me. It is my friend. He is in dire need of your help.”

“But your ankle . . .”

“Please, your magic is the only thing that may save him.”

“So, you do not wish for me to help you treat your wound?”

“Pardon?”

“The basilisk bite,” he motioned to where my ankle was now tucked beneath my dress, “you do not wish for me to treat it?”

I scoffed and gently removed the bit of fabric which now covered it, wincing as I did. The wound had already become inflamed. I could hardly feel my leg and my ankle was slowly turning an odd shade of yellow. “What good would it do? I am as good as dead. It is not I who requires your skills in this moment.”

Yoongi eyed me curiously, as if he thought perhaps I was jesting. Perhaps he thought the poison had gone to my head, for when he spoke, his words were slow and enunciated. “That bite is still new. There is a chance you may live to see tomorrow if you would allow me to help. After I have seen to your wounds, I shall help you with your friend.”

“You’re willing to help Jungkook?”

He cocked a brow. “That is what you drew from what I just told you?” Shaking his head, he sat back on his heels. “Would you like my assistance or not?”

Deciding that I truly had nothing left to lose, I agreed with a small nod.

A large, endearing smile spread across his features. “Seokjin may not be pleased about visitors arriving unannounced, but I believe he can make an exception just this once.”

Though I had tried desperately to do it myself, my ankle simply would not allow me to stand, much less walk with him. Yoongi did not seem at all surprised when I crumbled to the ground after my third attempt to stand.

A small, shy smile graced his lips as he asked if I would allow him to carry me. As I did not have much of a choice, I granted him my consent. I worried he may struggle under my weight, as he was not much taller than I was, and he did not appear to be quite as strong as any of the knights, yet he lifted me with relative ease.

Yoongi did not take to the path as I expected him too, instead veering off into the thick of the trees. My heart began to pound furiously inside my chest. Other than his name, I knew nothing of this man, yet I had handed him my full trust willingly. In that moment, as we travelled further into the densely packed forest and all light seemed to be blocked out, I wondered if that had been the right decision. Yoongi was a powerful wizard, a man of great strength who lived in the most dangerous of all places. Ryia had warned me against him. In my desperate state, I had not heeded her words. Namjoon once told me my carelessness would get me killed someday and I was beginning to believe he had been right.

After walking in silence for several tense moments, I decided to voice my concern. “Where are we-”

The words died in my throat as Yoongi approached a large tree. My eyes immediately trailed up to the branches above us, as if I were expecting to find house among them. To my disappointment, they stood empty of any such thing.

Carefully setting me down, Yoongi hurried to remove a loose piece of bark, revealing a small nob in the trunk of the tree which he carefully pushed in and twisted. Immediately, an opening appeared, revealing what appeared to be a lovely little cottage.

He turned to me, his shy grin returning. “Welcome to my home.”

“You live . . .” my eyes darted between the wizard and the large opening, “in a tree?”

“Not quite. The tree is simply a disguise. In case you have not noticed, I do not live amongst friendly neighbors. The only way to survive, is to stay hidden.”

“I never would have found you on my own.” I breathed disbelievingly.

He chuckled as he crouched down next to me. “Most people do not even come looking for me. I am considered dangerous for what I do.” Offering me his hand, he smiled encouragingly. “I’ll help you, but the door’s not wide enough for me to carry you through, so you will need to walk. Can you manage?”

Somewhat reluctantly, I took his offered hand and carefully balanced myself on my good foot.

“Just take it slow. I promise the magic door will not close unless I tell it to.”

“Who’s to say you will not close it once I start passing through?”

He cocked a brow. “I suppose you’re just going to have to trust me.”

“Can I?”

“How badly do you need my help?”

I glared, “Fine.”

Letting out a slow breath, I hobbled toward the opening. The edges shimmered in a dull purple and a warm heat radiated from it. I hesitated a moment, swaying precariously on my good foot.

“It won’t bite.”

Stealing my nerves, I closed my eyes and hopped through. A warm sensation ran through my body, but it did not last for more than a second. When I opened my eyes again, Yoongi had returned to my side, his arm looping through mine to offer his support. We were standing in a small room with nothing more than a small bench present. Through another doorway, I could see the flickering of a candle’s light. The heavenly scent wafting through the small home nearly knocked me off my feet.

“Yoongi!” A loud voice called out from the other room.

Yoongi flinched beside me and muttered a curse under his breath.

“You better not have come empty handed again. I swear if I do not have those herbs on my table in the next few minutes you are going to-” A large man stepped around the corner and froze, his eyes widening in surprise when they landed on me. He was stunning; his appearance rivaling that of any man I had ever seen, and I could not help but stare.

A nervous chuckle escaped Yoongi’s lips. “Seokjin, I have returned.”

The tall man, Seokjin, pinched the bridge of his nose with a disappointed sigh. “When I told you not to come home empty-handed, this is not what I meant.”

Yoongi grinned sheepishly. “She needed my help.”

“Yoongi, we’ve been through this. You cannot help every person you come across.”

 “But she got into a fight with Flower and she would have died if I had left her on her own.”

Seokjin raised an eyebrow as his eyes darted back to me. “What on Earth possessed you to anger a basilisk?”

“You named the basilisk Flower?” I asked, perplexed.

“Yes,” Yoongi nodded fervently, “because when she puts her full crown up, she resembles that of the sunflowers which used to grow back home. The ground here is too coarse to grow them, so Flower is the closest we will ever get to seeing one. I wanted to call her Sunflower, but Seokjin would not let me.”

I began to wonder just what sort of men I had found myself amongst. A basilisk had no right to a name, yet they spoke of it as if it were a pet.

“How did you become tangled up in a fight with Flower?” Seokjin asked. “She has a nasty temper.”

“I did not mean to. My horse threw me, and I landed next to the bush which she was occupying. It was not my intention to anger a basilisk.”

Seokjin frowned slightly as he took in my appearance. “You are from the royal family.”

I was confused by the sudden accusation but still I nodded, “That is correct.”

“What is someone of your stature doing all the way up here on Blood Mountain?”

Yoongi bit his lip nervously, glancing between Seokjin and myself. “Jin, not now.”

Seokjin ignored him. “Do you not have knights to do your bidding?”

“Pardon?”

“What need does someone from the royal family have to be this far into Blood Mountain? Wouldn’t it have been safer to send one of the knights?”

“Seokjin,” Yoongi scolded, “stop it. Now is not the time.”

I pushed myself away from Yoongi to stand on my own, making certain my head was held high. “I do not understand, nor do I care to know why you seem to hate me so much. It is of no concern to me whether or not you do, for it is not your help I seek.”

“Well then, what is it you need my brother to do?”

“A friend of mine is in dire need of your brother’s magical abilities.” I answered simply.

“Seokjin,” Yoongi interrupted before the other could speak, “gather some henbane. I must treat her wound before it festers any further.”

Grumbling to himself, Seokjin shot me one last glare before turning back into the room he’d appeared from earlier.

“Sorry about him,” Yoongi said, his voice small. “He’s not usually quite so demurring.”

“Why does he seem to hate my family?”

Yoongi hesitated while carefully helping me onto the bench. Motioning toward my ankle, he silently asked permission before rolling the bottom of my dress back. “Do not take it personally. My brother blames the royal family for what happened to our parents. He has never truly been able to move on. The memories have haunted him since the night our mother was executed.”

“Oh,” my heart broke for the man. I knew first-hand what it was like to lose a parent, for I had lost both of my own as well. It was a wound one could never truly heal from. It was of no surprise that he disliked me, even if I was not from a direct royal line.

“What happened?” I asked, my voice quiet.

“I fear it is not my place to tell you. If you truly wish to know, you are welcome to ask my brother, though I would advise against it. It is clear he already dislikes you.”

I nodded solemnly, resting my cheek on the palm of my hand. “Why is it that you do not despise my family?”

His shoulder lifted into a slight shrug as he observed the snake’s bite. “I do not blame anyone for what happened. It was tragic, but it would be far more tragic if I were to place the blame on someone innocent. It all happened with the ban on magic. King Namjoon was not even on the throne at the time. Why would I blame him for something he did not do?”

“You’re a good man.”

“No,” his smile was empty as he glanced up, “I am far from being a good man.”

“So you say, and yet you are helping me when you do not even know my name.”

“Emelyn.”

My eyes widened in shock. “How did you-”

“Just because I live at the top of a magical mountain does not mean I do not know the family who rules over us. Blood Mountain rests on your kingdom. Namjoon is as much my king as he is yours.”

Just then, Seokjin marched into the room. Without a word to me, he left the herbs on the end of the bench before striding back out.

Yoongi sighed. “Give him some time. He will not hold this grudge against you for long. Once he takes a moment to realize that you are not even of direct line to the King’s family, he will return to be the friendly man he usually is.”

“I do not hold it against him. I know what it is like . . . losing your family. Never once have I ever gone through anything quite as horrible.”

“Your own parents?”

I shook my head lightly.

Yoongi nodded his understanding and returned his full attention to the wound on my ankle. The longer he looked at it, the bleaker his expression became.

I swallowed hard and tore my eyes away from him. I knew it was of no use to try and treat it. The basilisk had not only bitten me, but she had held on for a while as well. The poison that now ran through my veins was great. I would not have put much faith into healing it, yet Yoongi had been insistent. Even now, he set his shoulders back determinedly and gently spread the herbal paste across the wound. I hissed in pain and bit my lip to keep from crying out.

Yoongi flinched. “Sorry. Did I not mention it was going to burn?”

“No,” I spoke through clenched teeth, “you failed to mention that.”

“I hoped you would have assumed it would burn. A wound like this won’t be treated without pain.”

I groaned and stuffed my face into the crook of my arm. Before long, Yoongi came to kneel next to my head, having done all he could for the ankle.

“You may look now. The worst is over, for now.”

“For now?” I said, gingerly sitting back up.

He nodded with a small hum. “It was only last month that Seokjin got himself bitten by Flower as well. I used the last of the poison’s remedy on him. The new batch is still being made, though it should be done in a few days. For now, the herbal remedy I gave you will help with the pain and work to contain the poison to one area of your body.”

Crossing his legs, he sat himself down and simply stared at me for a while. The curiosity in his eyes was evident. It was clear he wasn’t used to interacting with anyone other than his brother. Yoongi was nice enough, but his way with other people left something to be desired.

Fidgeting somewhat beneath his gaze, I broke the awkward silence. “Did you mean what you said? About helping my friend?”

“You talk a lot about your friend. This person must be truly special.”

I hummed in agreement. Jungkook was more than special. He was the only hope I had of saving my kingdom, but he was also so much more than that. Jungkook had one of the biggest hearts I had ever seen. He was someone to be admired. Never had I had the pleasure of meeting anyone quite like him.

“You are smiling.” Yoongi pointed out with a grin of his own.

“What?” I snapped my head around to look at him before quickly turning away again in an attempt to hide the blush that was coloring my cheeks.

  “This friend of yours, he is more than a friend?”

My eyes grew large as I quickly shook my head. “No! No, nothing like that.”

“Why the strong denial? Simply by observing the way in which you think about him, it is clear that he is special to you.”

“I have only just met him. It would be far from appropriate to assume such things.”

Yoongi lifted a shoulder with a knowing smile. “The heart does not understand what is considered correct or inappropriate. This friend of yours has charmed your heart, whether you have yet to see it or not.” His tone, though light, held no room for argument. “Why is it your friend is not with you? If it is he who needs my magic, why would you come alone?”

“I-” I hesitated. How was I meant to tell Yoongi I had managed to lose Jungkook somewhere along the way and haven’t been able to locate him on my own? “I do not know where he is at the moment.”

“I’m afraid I cannot help him if he is not here.”

“I was hoping you would be able to help me find him. See, Jungkook is a dragon.”

Yoongi’s eyes shot open wide as he leaned in closer. I had piqued his interest. “Did you just say a dragon?”

“Well, part dragon I suppose. He was cursed when he was very young. Since then he has been forced to shift into the dragon with the rise of every moon.”

“Yes well, very few dragons were not part man. The dragons died out several centuries ago. Most of the creatures you hear about nowadays are much like your friend.” Yoongi explained excitedly. The passion he felt for this topic was evident. This was his entire life and he was more than happy to share any information he could. “What is it he needs my help with?”

“Recently he has been losing control of himself even as the sun shines brightly overhead. That is why he is not here with me now. We were attacked and it caused him to shift. He flew away and I have not been able to find him since. I was hoping you would be able to help me.”

“You lost a dragon?” Seokjin stepped back into the room, wiping his hands on the end of his tunic.

I looked up to find him watching me incredulously. “I can assure you it was not my intention to do so. Jungkook is my last hope. If I am not able to return with him to my kingdom soon, we will all surely perish.”

Yoongi frowned in confusion. “Why would we perish? Namjoon is a wonderful king.”

“While that is true, there are many who wish to take his throne. If it had not been for Jungkook’s protection, we would have faced war years ago. As it is, with Jungkook unable to control the dragon, he has been unable to offer his protection. King Merek has taken advantage of his absence and has declared war on our kingdom.”

Seokjin raised a brow. “This dragon friend of yours has been protecting the kingdom?”

“Virtus Invicta,” Yoongi breathed.

“Pardon?”

Looking between Seokjin and I, Yoongi let out a slow breath of realization. “Virtus Invicta. Jungkook is the Phantom Knight.”

Seokjin groaned. Turning on his heels, he marched from the room once more, muttering to himself. “This is not happening to us. We are not getting mixed up in that mess.”

“You know?” I asked Yoongi once Seokjin was fully out of sight.

“It is the only thing which makes any sense.” Jumping to his feet, Yoongi began pacing, his excitement bubbling. “I should have seen it before. It’s been right there, staring me in the face the entire time.”

“What has?”

“Virtus Invicta,” Yoongi repeated the words as if I should know what they mean, “it is a powerful incantation. One that even I would not be able to recreate.”

I stared at him blankly, still not seeing how any of this was at all connected.

“The incantation is ancient. In the times when the dragons were becoming extinct, the ones who practiced magic created the spell in order to preserve the race. Before they were hunted, the dragons used to do what your Phantom Knight does now. They were our protectors. All it took was one dragon to go rogue and the humans turned on them. After the rogue dragon nearly burned down the east village, the king declared the banishment on dragons. From there, dragon hunting became a game of sorts. Their hides could be sold for large sums of gold, and the oils on their skin were excellent for healing potions. Powerful sorcerers used the people’s greed to their advantage. The people would pay large sums to have the dragons hunted down. It was not long before nearly all the dragons were gone.”

“That is truly horrible.”

Yoongi hummed in agreement. “Those who wished to preserve the dragons created the incantation. It allowed the dragons to live on, while offering them a disguise in a human body. It worked for a while, until the people began realizing what was happening. The incantation was outlawed and soon it was looked on as a curse rather than a blessing.”

“It was never a blessing.” Seokjin called out from the other room.

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “My brother is a bit more skeptical.”

“I’m not skeptical,” Seokjin stepped back into the room, “I simply do not refuse to see all the facts.”

“What facts?” I asked, my curiosity spiked.

“Oh, the incantation certainly helped to preserve the dragons for a while, but there is a reason it was outlawed shortly after. Once a person’s life has been morphed with that of a dragon, they lose a part of themselves. When in their dragon form, they no longer act as human. The instinct to protect, which once lived inside every dragon, did not live inside these newly formed beasts. The dragons created from this curse were monsters. Killers.”

Yoongi scrunched his nose at Seokjin’s choice of words. “I would not call them killers.”

“Whatever you call them, it was clear they were not the same creatures we had grown to admire.”

“Is there a cure?” I asked, dreading what the answer may be.

Seokjin shook his head sadly. “There was never one that could be found. Whether the original creators of the curse also created a cure was never known.”

“I’m sure there is one out there somewhere.” Yoongi said.

“Even if there isn’t,” Seokjin gave him a soft smile, “if anyone could create one, it would be you.”

I smiled as I watched the exchange. It was clear that Seokjin held great pride in his brother. I had to wonder just what they were doing so far up on the mountain. I knew Yoongi needed to be away to practice his magic, but why had they remained so secluded? Something told me there was more to their story than Yoongi had let on earlier.

Just then, there was a loud bang at the door which drew everyone’s attention, quickly followed by another. Yoongi scrambled to his feet and both brothers came to loop their arms through mine, guiding me to my feet.

“What’s going-”

I was cut off by Seokjin slapping a hand over my mouth. He gave me a sharp look and shook his head once. The message to remain quiet, rang clear.

The pounding only grew to a higher intensity as Yoongi motioned toward the back room and the three of us quickly made our way there. Without a word, Yoongi marched directly over to the far wall and tapped it once. Immediately, it opened up to reveal a dark passage. I could not be sure, but it appeared as though it was underground, which did not make much sense, as we were technically still inside a tree.

Seokjin prodded me to move forward. The banging on the door continued and though the passage did not look overly inviting, it was a better option than facing whatever was outside. I followed Yoongi inside.

Once we had all made it through, the opening closed, trapping us in a blinding darkness. I swallowed hard, my hand reaching out to grip onto the back of Yoongi’s tunic. I could not see my own hand when I held it up in front of my face. How were we meant to navigate this tunnel?

“Do not worry.” Seokjin’s voice sounded beside my ear, causing me to jump. “Trust in my brother. Do not let go of him and he will lead you out.”

“How?” I asked, my voice shaking slightly. “He cannot see.”

“I would not be so sure.”

When Yoongi began slowly moving forward, my grip on his tunic tightened. I shuffled along behind him, giving everything I had to keep my feet under me. The medicine Yoongi had spread on my ankle allowed me just enough freedom to use the foot without collapsing with every step. Though the fire which erupted up my leg with each step was unpleasant, I was simply grateful I was able to remain standing.

“Almost there.” Yoongi said, his voice low.

My foot caught on what I assumed to be a root in the ground, causing me to fall forward onto Yoongi’s back. A string of apologies left my lips as I scrambled to pick myself back up.

I could hear the laughter in his voice as he turned to help me. “You are clumsier than even I am. What on earth did you trip on? The path has been clear.”

I shook my head with a frown, though I knew no one would be able to see it. “My foot caught on a root.”

“There is no root here.” Seokjin spoke from behind me. I could hear him lightly tapping the surrounding path with his foot. “The ground is smooth.”

“Then what did my foot catch on?”

A small orb of light suddenly flickered into view, the light purple glow emanating from Yoongi’s hand. He held it up to illuminate the area around us and I heard his breath catch. Somewhat reluctantly, I turned my head to follow his line of sight. What I saw confused me. The tunnel we had just come through had been completely taken over by dense foliage. Vines and roots extended from every inch of the dirt walls, completely blocking the way in which we came, and I realized with a growing terror that it was slowly reaching out towards us.

Yoongi cursed under his breath. “They’ve found the tunnel.”

“Who?” I asked, dreading the answer.

Both men ignored my question.

“We need to get out of here.” Seokjin said, as if that weren’t the most obvious solution. “How much further?”

“A few yards maybe?”

I spun back around and began pushing him along. “Then let’s go.”

Yoongi nodded in agreement and extinguished the light. With one quick demand for Seokjin to grab my hand, Yoongi took my other and together we raced forward. I did my best to keep up, hobbling along as fast as I could. Seokjin helped, eventually bending down a bit to offer more support, allowing me to wrap my arm around his shoulder.

“Yoongi!” Seokjin shouted, his voice laced with panic. “The exit!”

“I’m working on it!” Yoongi shot back.

It was then I felt it too. The vines and roots behind us were growing faster, the ends reaching out to begin wrapping around my feet and legs.

A strangled noise sounded from the back of my throat as I leapt out of the vine’s reach. “Why are there vines chasing us?”

Seokjin groaned. “Ogres.”

“Ogres?”

“Annoying little creatures.” Yoongi sighed.

“That’s putting it lightly.” Seokjin said.

“I did not believe they even existed.” I admitted, feeling rather foolish.

“Perhaps it is time you start believing in things you cannot always see.”

“But ogres are simple creatures. They are not capable of magic.”

“What the stories tell and what is actually true are not always the same.” Yoongi corrected. “Ogres are indeed capable of magic. In fact, they wield a highly powerful earth magic. One which rivals even that of a dragon master.”

“So, what you are saying, is-”

“-if we do not hurry and find the exit to the tunnel, we will all become dinner for the ogres.” Seokjin interrupted.

 “Why exactly are there ogres chasing us?” I panted, only barely having managed to catch myself after tripping over another vine.

“I suppose you would not know,” Yoongi replied, “ogres enjoy hunting humans. Preferably smaller ones such as children or infants, though they will eat any they find. Since there are not many people to be found on Blood Mountain, once they catch our scent, it is difficult to shake them off our trail.”

“They’re trying to eat us?”

“I would assume so, yes,” Seokjin grumbled, “and unless you plan on sticking around to find out for sure, I would suggest we continue moving ahead as quickly as possible.”

“The exit!” Yoongi cried, suddenly surging forward.

I yelped as he dragged me forward, my hand having still been securely wrapped in his tunic. Seokjin kicked a particularly close vine out of the way and quickly followed after us. We raced forward blindly, Seokjin and I placing all our trust in Yoongi to lead us safely out.

“Here.”

I froze at the sound of Yoongi’s voice. I heard him shuffle around for a moment, before I was suddenly blinded by the light that came flooding into the tunnel. I blinked several times, allowing my eyes to adjust. Yoongi wore a proud smile as he ushered us through, and I sighed in relief.

The sun’s rays blinded me as I stepped out into the open and my heart skipped a beat when I looked behind me, for the exit to the tunnel had vanished. There was nothing apart from an open field. Yet that could not be right. I had just left the tunnel. It had been right behind me.

“Mind your step!”

I reeled back at the sudden cry from Yoongi, my eyes dropping down to where I heard his voice. The tunnel’s entrance stared up at me, ready to swallow me back in if I were to take one more step. Seokjin marched straight up the side of the tunnel, his feet sticking to the walls as if they had been molded together. He came to stand directly beside me after fully righting himself.

“You should try closing your mouth. The birds may try to build a nest there if you do not.” He said with a smirk.

I immediately snapped my mouth shut, though my eyes remained wide as I stared between Yoongi, who was still inside the tunnel, and his brother. “How did-”

“Do not think too deeply about my brother’s magic. It will only serve to make your headache.”

Frowning, I backed away from the hole as Yoongi made his way up. I was not fond of the way in which Seokjin continually interrupted my words. It was rather rude.

It struck me as strange as I took in my surroundings, that not a single blade of grass was wet. Hadn’t it been raining when we’d left the brothers’ house? Surely it could not have dried so quickly. I blinked up at the sun, searching for any signs of the massive clouds which had ruled the sky just moments ago.

“The weather changes dramatically from one end of the mountain to the other.” Seokjin said, coming to stand beside me.

I peered up at him, confused. “How did you-”

“You were staring up at the sky as if you were questioning your own sanity.”

“Seokjin!” Yoongi’s shout drew both our attention.

Seokjin’s eyes grew wide and he immediately rushed to help his brother. I was confused at first. Nothing seemed to be out of place initially. The vines and roots had not grown past the tunnel’s exit. We were all safely back on the ground, standing upright. It was not until I caught the first glimpse of the hideous creature that I understood their panic.

No one knew much about the ogre. Most assumed they were not real, claiming them to be a creature formed by the imaginations of those who had survived Blood Mountain. Until that moment, I had not believed in them either. Perhaps Seokjin was right. It was time to start believing that there was some truth behind every tale.

The first ogre protruded its ugly head from the opening, just as Yoongi began to close it. Seokjin jabbed his foot into its face, sending the creature careening back down into the hole. Yoongi squeezed his eyes shut, doing everything he could to keep his concentration as he worked on closing the exit. I did not understand why he would not simply seal it like he had the other side, but then I suppose the ogre’s magic could have been preventing him from doing so.

My ankle throbbed as I began searching for anything that may help. There was nothing around us for miles. I could just make out a tree line in the distance, but it was nowhere near close enough to offer any help. At my feet, I noticed a particularly large stone and quickly snatched it up. Struggling under its weight, I hobbled over and shoved Seokjin aside. Ignoring his cry of protest, I let the stone fall. It connected with three different ogres, pinning them all down to the ground below. They were scrawny creatures. Nothing at all like how I had imagined them to be. Each one shorter than I was, and each had an ugly scraggly mass of hair on top their heads. Their greyish skin stretched thin across their heads and hands yet was saggy and wrinkly over the rest of their bodies. With heads larger than their chests, the creatures were surely the sight of nightmares. A greenish mucus was built up around their eyes and they squinted as if unable to see clearly because of it.

“So, what is the plan?” I asked as I began picking up and hurling every stone I could get my hands on into the hole.

“Yoongi has to close the exit, but the ogres are using their magic against him.” Seokjin said, glancing up worriedly at Yoongi. “There must be dozens of the horrid creatures down there. Alone, their magic is enough to battle Yoongi’s, but together it appears they are a bit overwhelming.”

“Is there anything we can do?”

“All we can do is try to keep them away from Yoongi until he’s managed to close it.”

“You do not possess any magic?” I asked, tossing another particularly large stone at an approaching ogre.

Seokjin’s eyes grew dark and he angrily shoved his hand inside the bag at Yoongi’s waist. “Only Yoongi was blessed with the gift of magic. He alone is our hope of survival.”

I swallowed hard and stole a glance at the wizard. Sweat beaded his forehead and his eyes were kept tightly closed. His hands balled into fists at his side as he chanted words I could not understand.

Seokjin shoved a few small, glowing orbs into my hands.

I recoiled at the slimy texture and wrinkled my nose at the odd scent wafting off them. “What is this?”

“Toss them at the ogres,” Seokjin said, “they shall work far better than the stones.”

I was about to ask how a bundle of glass orbs was going to help us, when Seokjin threw the first one at the nearest ogre. A loud popping sound reverberated through the air and the ogre was thrown back. The creature didn’t move after having been hit squarely in the head with what appeared to be a small explosion.

“You are suggesting we blow them up?”

Seokjin shrugged and threw another orb at an approaching ogre, sending it flying back into the tunnel. “It is worth a try, is it not?”

Deciding it was a better alternative to being devoured by one of the ugly creatures, I joined the man in his endeavor to protect his brother. Though the strategy worked for a time, it was not long before we began running out of orbs, yet still more ogres made their way out of the tunnel.

“Yoongi, it is of no use.” Seokjin said, racing over to shake his brother out of his concentration. “We must run.”

“We would never outrun them.” Yoongi shouted back, anger and frustration brewing in his words.

“Yet we cannot remain here! They will not stop their assault until they have acquired at least one of us. It is clear that their magic combined cannot be overcome with your own. It is time we made our escape. We make for the trees. If we can reach that, we will be able to get away.”

Before Yoongi could respond any further, a scream fell from my lips as I fell forward, my leg having been yanked out from under me. I clawed desperately at the ground, as the creature latched onto my ankle and began pulling me down.

“Emelyn!” The brothers shouted in unison.

Yoongi dove for my hand and Seokjin ran to try and peel the ogre’s hand off my leg. I clung to Yoongi’s arm yet all that managed to accomplish was having us both dragged back toward the opening. Seokjin managed to beat the ogre back until it finally released its hold on me and the three of us scrambled out of reach.

“Run!” Seokjin shouted, helping to lift me to my feet before taking off in the direction of the tree line.

I followed closely behind with Yoongi on my heels. Behind us, I heard the angry screeching of the ogres as they began emerging from the tunnel.

“We’re never going to make it.” Yoongi panted, clutching at his side as he ran. It was clear using his magic was draining. I noticed how his legs shook beneath him as he forced them to keep moving.

“Try to look on the bright side,” Seokjin quipped, “we survived the tunnel. We can survive this.”

Stealing a glance over my shoulder, I saw a hoard of ogres surging toward us. Some carried clubs, others wielding small swords while some came at us with nothing but their magic. Each pursued us with a hungry cry and an evil glint in their eyes.

Yoongi was right. It appeared as though our chances of surviving this encounter were minimal. I rested my gaze on the man in front of me. It was my own doing which had brought on the ogre attack. Whether it was due to the fresh scent of human flesh on the mountain which drew them in, or the ruckus I caused with the basilisk, I knew the brothers would not be running for their lives if I had simply not shown up at their doorstep.

Looking to the sky, I wished again that Jungkook was with us. Perhaps he would have had a few ideas on how to stop the gruesome creatures.

The first vine shot up two feet from Yoongi’s face. He yelped, skidding to a halt before skirting around it. I glanced behind us once more to find the ogres advancing. They may have been small and disproportioned, but they were fast.

Another root shot up and tangled itself around Seokjin’s foot, sending him crashing to the ground. I dove to help but Yoongi was quicker. He shot a beam of purple light at the root and it shriveled away back into the ground. Seokjin scrambled to his feet once more and we continued our retreat.

“We’re not going to make it!” Seokjin shouted, leaping to the side to avoid another shooting vine.

“We have to!” I shouted in return, determined I was not about to become an ogre’s meal.

A strangled scream escaped my lips when the vine shot up beside me and wrapped securely around my waist, sending me crashing to the ground. My hands clawed at the plant as it began dragging me back. Distantly, I heard the others shout after me, but my focus was held entirely on escaping. Tears clouded my vision as I struggled against its hold. Blinking rapidly, I craned my neck to look across my shoulder, only to wish that I hadn’t. The ogre whose magic was holding me, stood only a few feet away. A gruesome smile stretched across its face.

My head snapped back around when I felt two pairs of hands wrap around both my legs. Seokjin and Yoongi both began pulling me away from the approaching ogre. I screamed as the vine’s hold on my waist grew tighter and I began struggling to breathe. Still, the struggle continued. My fingers clawed viciously at the plant, yet the effort was pointless.

Yet another root shot from the ground then, wrapping itself around Seokjin’s neck. Yoongi screamed and immediately tackled his brother, fighting against the root as Seokjin’s face grew redder with every passing second.

I froze, watching with bated breath. Yoongi’s magic wasn’t working against it and brute strength was not going to work either. Something had to be done, but what? My arm scraped against a rough surface and I hissed in pain, frowning as I peered down to see what it was. My eyes grew wide when I saw it. One of the ogre’s clubs lay abandoned and forgotten in the tall grass. Scrambling to snatch it up, I twisted around and threw every ounce of strength I had into bashing the approaching ogre over the head. It swayed for a moment before crumpling to the ground, the vine immediately releasing its grip on me once the ogre was out.

Leaping to my feet, I rushed to Yoongi’s aid. Seokjin had long since lost consciousness, his face unnaturally red. He was not breathing. My chest ached as I thought of the worst. I did not want to believe it, but my gut told me one of us would not be surviving the night.

Large tears trailed down Yoongi’s cheeks as he fought with the root. Dropping down beside him, I snatched the bag at his waist and dug inside.

“Yoongi! Do you have any more of those odd smelling orbs?”

“What?” He snapped, not bothering to cease his efforts to free his brother.

“Never mind,” my hand wrapped around a familiar slimy orb and I pulled it out triumphantly.

Yoongi’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “What are you doing? That will kill him.”

“It is not for your brother,” I nodded toward the ogre drawing closer, “it’s for him.”

With as much force as I could muster, I threw the orb at the creature. It connected with the ogre’s chest, sending him flying back. Seconds later, the root around Seokjin’s neck went slack.

Yoongi ripped it off and began shaking his brother, trying to wake him.

I laid a hand on his shoulder; my attention being drawn to the mass of ugly creatures coming toward us. “Yoongi, we need to leave.”

“Wake up, Seokjin. I cannot lift you on my own. Wake up!” Yoongi’s voice shook as he pleaded with an unconscious Seokjin.

“I will help.” I said, reaching down to loop one of Seokjin’s arms around my neck. “But we must hurry.”

Yoongi nodded, jumping to his feet.

We carried Seokjin between us, his feet dragging across the ground as we raced for the tree line.

The ogres were growing tired of the chase. They wanted their meal and it was escaping. The ground beneath us began to tremble and Yoongi suddenly froze in his tracks. His voice shook when he screamed for me to get down. Before I could so much as blink, we were surrounded by a haze of soft purple light. An explosion of light shook the earth and the ringing in my ears forced my hands up to cover them. Ducking my head, I fell to the ground beside Seokjin, praying for it to be over quickly.

As the ground finally stopped shaking and the ringing in my ears faded, I slowly raised my head. The world was hazy and spun around me. Sounds were muffled causing me to become disoriented as I searched for Yoongi, my eyes eventually coming to rest on a hazy figure which I assumed to be the wizard. What I did not understand was why he seemed to be moving away from where Seokjin and I were. Glancing down, I realized with a shock that Seokjin wasn’t there. Snapping my head back up, I blinked rapidly in an attempt to clear my vision. Yoongi was chasing after a group of ogres as they carried a large floppy lump between them.

“No,” I breathed as my vision finally returned to full focus. It was Seokjin.

Scrambling to my feet, I nearly fell back to the ground as the world continued to spin madly. My feet stumbled forward, chasing after them. I was not sure what had transpired just moments ago, yet most of the ogres had gone. The few who remained were the ones carting Yoongi’s brother away.

Yoongi tripped, crashing to the ground in a heap, yet he did not remain there for long. Pushing himself back to his feet, he chased after them again. Anguished cries left his lips as he desperately tried to awaken his brother. Cries which fell on deaf ears.

The ogres disappeared back into the hole which they’d crawled out of, sealing off the entrance as they did. Yoongi shouted after them, dropping to the ground where the exit had been. His hands tore at the ground with uncontrolled desperation, sending grass and dirt flying in every direction. Sobs wracked his body as I slowly approached. I was not sure what to say or do. My heart ached for Yoongi as I silently watched him tear apart the earth. I had acted much the same way when my mother was taken. After having been suspected of using magic, my father and I had been forced to watch as she was carried away. I had spent the next several days at the doors of the prison. My hands had become bloodied and bruised from the constant attempts to open the door. It had only been a few days later when she was publicly executed, as an example of what would come to anyone who practiced magic.

Dropping to my knees beside him, I gently wrapped my arms around Yoongi’s shaking shoulders. He tried to throw me off only twice before falling into my embrace. His shook his head as he cried into my shoulder, his hands wrapped securely in the fabric of my dress.

We remained that way for a little while. Yoongi’s sobs eventually calming and his breathing became a bit steadier. I held him tightly. I knew there was nothing I could say which would ease his pain. There was nothing I could do to bring his brother back to him. The most I could do was remind him that he was not alone.

 After a while, Yoongi sat back and wiped at his eyes, which had glazed over as he stared at the place his brother had disappeared.

Reaching over, I took his hand in mine, gently rubbing my thumb across his skin. Glancing over, his eyes dropped to our hands before rising back up to meet my eyes. “He was my best friend.”

Those five words shattered my heart. No one would ever be able to replace what he’d lost. Squeezing his hand, I let him know he wasn’t alone. I may not have been able to change things, but I was not going to leave him on his own.

Looking at Yoongi then, I wondered if I was truly doing the right thing. I had left my family behind to fight for our kingdom. Jungkook was lost because I had sent us out on an impossible journey, and now Seokjin was gone as well. It seemed everywhere I went, I brought destruction with me. Perhaps if I had simply stayed locked in my room, none of this would have happened. If I had only accepted Taehyung’s offer in marriage, Seokjin would still be alive. I had vowed to make things right when I left the castle, yet all I had managed to do was make those around me suffer in unimaginable ways. Would I truly be able to restore peace to my kingdom? I was no longer sure I could. 

[acrimcnies]

BASICS

Name: Naomi Choi

Gender: Cis Female

Pronouns: She / Her

Species: Werewolf

Age: 26 ( 28 October 1993 )

Occupation: Server at Buckshot Bar & Grill

PERSONALITY

Traits: ( + ) Independent, Perceptive, Risk-Taking, Decisive ; ( – ) Insouciant, Disruptive, Hedonistic, Self-Destructive

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

MBTI: ESTP-A ( The Entrepreneur )

Enneagram: Type 8 ( The Challenger )

HISTORY

TW: Attempted murder, child abuse

Imagine this: it’s the middle of January and there is a little girl by the lake.

Now imagine her screaming; she’s crying mommy, mommy, please, and mommy, why and mommy, I’ll be good—and then there’s water in her lungs and ice in her veins but she’s still screaming, screaming, screaming, only now there’s no sound.

Death is an abstract concept until it isn’t. Naomi splits her knuckles open on the ice with all the strength of a cornered animal taking its last stand. I don’t want to die, she thinks, and like a prayer answered, there are hands on her, dragging her back to the surface. Her mother’s face is the first thing she sees, eyes wild and lips trembling, murmuring Lord, forgive me over and over and over again as she holds her baby close.

Just because a decision is unmade doesn’t mean that the consequences are undone as well; the cold water had swallowed her whole and spat her back out incomplete. She spends half her childhood sitting by the frozen lake in the middle of winter, trying to see if she can reclaim what she’d lost. Eventually, she’ll learn that the water gives as much as it takes. It may have stolen the warmth from her when she was a child, but the cold stays with her, like an old friend she can’t seem to shake off.

She’s eight years old and she’s on her knees, hands clasped in prayer as she asks for the Lord’s forgiveness. I wished a boy I know would die, she confesses, but she doesn’t mention that she’d almost drowned him, that she’d wrapped her fingers around his ankle after he’d tried to undo the strap of her bathing suit and dragged him down to the depths of the community pool with her.

Maybe she is her mother’s daughter, after all. Maybe she should have been horrified at the realisation. Maybe everyone would be better off if she had died that day.

But Naomi has always been a wild thing, and she’s more than familiar with the first rule of the jungle: the weak get devoured. The world doesn’t care about girls like her; if she doesn’t stand up for herself then no one will. And if she cannot afford to be the damsel in distress, then she will just have to become the beast instead.

She doesn’t even really remember how it happened, just that one moment she had been stumbling through the woods half-drunk and in awe of the supermoon peeking out from between the barren branches, and the next she’d woken up in a strange house surrounded by strange people. Werewolf. She’s heard whispered tales of the old legends of the wolves in Blackrock, but she doesn’t believe any of what these people—this pack, they’d called themselves—tell her. Not until she turns into a fucking wolf, anyway.

Her bones break, flesh and muscle rearrange themselves into the shape of a large black wolf. This is Naomi as she has always been meant to be, all razor-sharp claws and snarling teeth. Finally, here is a body that can handle the enormity of her anger. There is something comforting about being reduced to the barest of instincts, freed from the too-human notions of shame and guilt, and being a werewolf is exactly what she needs. Until it isn’t.

Becoming a wolf is supposed to be an outlet for her anger, for the wild animal she’s kept buried inside of her for so many years, so that she doesn’t tear herself apart. But instead of relief, a new type of restlessness sinks into her bones, making her itch with the desire to to crawl out of her own skin. There is a darkness inside of her that she cannot run from, a hollow point in the center of her ribs that causes every emotion to bleed into anger.

It’s easier to give into her anger when she feels invincible. In some ways, it’s an exercise in control—letting people lay their hands on her and resisting the urge to tear their throats out. It starts with strangers, but when that isn’t enough, she stops leaving her anger at the door when she goes home. Her poison is insidious; she picks fights with the members of the pack, leaving a trail of chaos and destruction in her wake.

And then one day, she leaves.

She could say that she left for the sake of the pack, removing herself from the equation before she tore them apart from the inside out, but she’s never been that selfless. The truth is this: her pain has always felt bigger than everyone else’s, but everyone in the pack has their own cross to bear, and suddenly hers doesn’t matter so much anymore. It’s all she has, though. Who would she be without the pain and the anger? Being with the pack makes her feel suffocated and invisible all at once, and she only leaves because she’s tired of feeling like she’s losing herself.

It’s too bad she doesn’t find herself while she’s gone though. All she finds are some dead wolves and a few hunters, and by the time she makes it back to Blackrock, one of their own is dead.

She’s never really gotten along with the pack to begin with, but her vanishing act would have severed any threads of trust that had been forming anyway. It’s probably best if she leaves again, but something makes her stay—a long-repressed yearning for a home to belong to, perhaps.

Besides, she’s missed the lake.

CONNECTIONS

Established Connections

OAK: Shame is not an emotion Naomi is familiar with, but now she can’t quite look Diego in the eyes without feeling like she’s going to choke on the guilt. So she turns that shame into anger, walks into town with it wrapped around her tongue and her fists, in search of a fight. Maybe if she gets knocked around hard enough, she’ll be able to sleep under their roof without feeling haunted by the disappointment in his eyes. The truth is, no one’s really cared enough about her to be disappointed in her before. Naomi acts out in part because she believes that he will eventually give up on her too, like everyone else has—isn’t she doing them a favour by showing them that she’s not worth it?

PINE: When Naomi was younger, before she’d convinced herself that she didn’t care what the rest of the world thought about her, she used to pretend to be anyone but herself. She’d learned that it’s easy to hide behind a pretty face, that no one wants to believe that someone so endearing could be capable of anything bad. To most of the pack, Grey probably seems harmless, but she doesn’t trust that guileless facade for a second. She knows they’re capable of more than what they show, and she’s determined to sink her claws into them and drag their true self into the light. Her relentlessness probably stems from her desire to make up for abandoning the pack and not being there when they might have needed her. But in her quest to dig up the truth, they might just end up seeing through her instead.

HORNBEAM: Naomi believes that kindness always comes with strings attached. While she knows that she should be grateful for Mar stepping in to stop her from crashing and burning, she’s mostly too proud to admit that she needed her help, and she hates feeling like she owes the older woman a debt. There aren’t many places in Blackrock to hide. Mar can’t run from her forever. It starts with a small unprompted favour, but it’s nothing compared to what they did for her. So it goes on like that, favour after favour after favour until her debt is repaid. Except—shouldn’t they be even by now? Why doesn’t she feel relieved? Why does she keep looking for excuses to help Mar?

HEMLOCK: Once, she’d thought they were two sides of the same coin, that Connor was a kindred spirit, someone who understands what it’s like to be consumed by anger at a world that has never been kind to either of them. But while he’s tried to claw their way into the light, Naomi feels like she’s been running backwards. She’s desperate to feel like she’s not alone, to be seen and heard and understood, and her desire to prove that they are the same is a result of that. Except she goes about it by trying to drag Connor down to her level, and the more he resists, the angrier she gets, although that anger is largely directed inwards.

Wanted Connections

( OPEN / WEREWOLF ) — Naomi doesn’t have friends, but you were almost the exception. Almost, because just as it felt like the two of you were finally getting somewhere, she upped and left town without a word. Why didn’t she tell you she was leaving? Why hadn’t she taken you with her? Her departure may have left an open wound, but it’s her return that truly stings. Where do you go from here?

( OPEN / WEREWOLF ) — She’s quick with her fists, and quicker with her mouth. You’ve always known that mouth of hers will get the pack into trouble one day, and you’re determined to make sure that doesn’t happen. But Naomi is not so easily tamed, and you will have to take her apart entirely before you can mould her into becoming a good little werewolf. How far are you willing to go to break her?

( OPEN / HUMAN ) — Here are the facts. One: you once helped Naomi out. Two: she’d insisted on returning the favour, but you’d declined. Three: the asshole who’d been a thorn in your side ends up in the hospital after a vicious wolf attack. There’s no reason to think that the last fact has anything to do with the first two, but still, you wonder. Maybe you even start to look into it, but what will you do when you’re proven right? ( OPEN / HUMAN ) — You made the mistake of patching Naomi up once after a fight, and now she’s developed a habit of showing up at your door bloody and bruised. You’ve told her time and time that you’re not a doctor, but she never listens. Maybe it’s because you never turn her away, despite your complaints. But what else are you supposed to do? ( OPEN / ANY ) — You were a bitch to the manager at Buckshot once and now Naomi always gives you an extra side of fries for free with your meal. You hardly even know each other, but the enemy of her enemy is her friend, and if you catch her on a good day, she might even admit that you’re kinda, sorta, maybe not that bad. Her shifts are less boring when you’re around anyway, and if she’s noticed that you only ever seem to visit when she’s working—she pretends not to.

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Heartbreaker ~ Bellamy Blake (part 3)

A/n: So I don't know if you've noticed but each of these parts is one episode from the show. Cool, right?

Warnings: Um, death. murder. Emotions.

Word Count: 4390

MASTERLIST

The moaning. It was bad on its own. Jasper's groans had a way of burrowing into your bone marrow and making you feel his pain. On top of that, said moans were keeping everyone awake and between the irritability that was causing and the shouts of irritation through the night - threats, dark wishes, grumbled complaints, and some creative insults that made me shiver in my spot on the ground - I was just about losing it. Everyone was.

I didn't blame it on Jasper... but everyone else did.

And the nightmares. God, the nightmares. You could hear people whimpering and whining in their sleep- a whole different bad than Jasper.

There was no getting better from here. I was scared it was only going to get worse. To confirm it, Octavia came suddenly blazing in my tent, ready to murder. At first, I thought her razor eyes were for me but then she explained what had happened with Atom and that she suspected Bellamy. I knew what she needed. "I'll come with you."

That seemed to relax her a bit. She led me to the tent Bellamy was in, stomping in with purpose as I stayed back by the entrance. "What did you do to Atom?" she demanded.

Sighing silently, he stood, moving around the table to face her without a barrier. "I didn't do anything."

She scoffed. "Then why did he just blow me off?"

"Maybe he's not interested," Bellamy shot back.

I rolled my eyes, remembering the way he had looked at her before. Talked to her. Touched her. The way she described the Butterfly Field and their shared kiss. Bellamy was spewing straight bullshit. "You can't keep everyone away from me," Octavia pointed out. "Y/n would be gone too if you had your way!"

She motioned to me and I stood tall. Bellamy didn't even look at me. "Atom has to learn," he said instead. "You disobey me, you pat the price. He paid the price, we're good." I recoiled. Who WAS this? This wasn't the same Bellamy who asked his father every day if Octavia could come out when we were kids. The same guy who learned how to braid my hair when we were teenagers. The same guy who pulled me close at night and whispered jokes in my ear when I was upset. The same guy who hated the Ark because they repressed and hurt us- forcing us to give up living in exchange for surviving. I didn't know this Bellamy.

Octavia spat, "Now I'm paying the price." She paused, her head dipping slightly as she looked at him challengingly. "So next time you decide to take a power trip, leave me out of it."

Bellamy looked at his sister. "So I have to keep you out of my battles, but you can drag Y/n into yours?" All eyes turned to me and I froze in the doorway. There was something in his eyes. Something foreign and new- in a bad way. So much had changed over the last year and a half...

A tortured scream cut brought the camp and I gasped, knocked back into the present. My eyes met Octavia's a second before we were both running. Jasper. We raced into the room to see a bloody, messy scene and I croaked, trying to speak but not even knowing where to begin or what to say. When had I become so silent? "Stop it!" Octavia yelled for me. "You're killing him!"

"She's trying to save his life," Finn counteracted.

"She can't." I turned to see Bellamy, who apparently followed after us.

Wells stood. "Back off," he sighed.

"We didn't drag him through miles of woods just to let him die," Clarke snapped.

Bellamy wasn't giving it. "Kid's a goner." It was a simple statement and I stared at the back of his head, trying to see any trace of the Bellamy I knew what seemed a hundred lifetimes ago now. "If you can’t see that, you're deluded. He's making people crazy!"

Clarke looked up and her anger filled the room, fueling everyone who was behind her. Everyone else in the room except Bellamy. "Sorry if Jasper's an inconvenience to you, but this isn't the Ark. Every life matters." She looked at me and I smiled. That seemed to encourage her a bit.

"Take a look at him." Bellamy paused and my chest constricted. What the hell was his DEAL? "He's a lost cause." Silence. A long silence. I stepped forward.

Unable to take it anymore, I spat, "And you'd know, right?" Eyes turned to me again. Bellamy went to speak but I stood straight and the words seemed to die in his mouth. "You, with your, what? Your experience with sick people? Your classes you took? The people you've healed. Clarke actually has seen stuff like-" I motioned to Jasper. "Like that. Maybe not like that specifically, but she has more experience than you do. Stop running your mouth and making decisions about someone's life just because you fancy yourself the leader." Bellamy's jack tightened. "You're talking about killing him like you're building the wall. Like it's a mark you have to hit on your checklist. Holy fuck Bellamy listen to yourself!" I scoffed, shaking my head. "What if it was Octavia?"

Another long silence. Bell and I just looked at each other. I was open and vulnerable and genuinely hurt by the person he had become in this world that had made him something ugly. He was cold and impossible to read- different than the open book he used to be. He was never easy going or calm but he used to be hopeful. Where did his spark go? His gentleness? His mercy? His... love?

Clarke finally spoke and I looked over, my face twisted with angry pain. "Octavia, I've seen my mom fix people up before- I saw her do it for years." The two girls looked at each other and I saw how genuine Octavia's concern was. It softened me. "If I say there's hope, there's hope."

"This isn't about hope, it's about guts," Bellamy interjected. Suddenly I was cold again. Robotic. Turned off. Inhuman. Unfeeling. Except the world was crystal clear and bright and alive and I was painfully aware of it. It was me that was empty. Me that was saturated. A gray smudge on a neon red and yellow canvas. "You don't have the guts to make the hard choices- I do." Every few words was another inch the invisible blade sunk into my gut. "He's been like this for three days. If he's not better by tomorrow... I'll kill himself myself." He looked at me and then at Wells and then turned and left, heading to the ladder. "Octavia, let's go."

"I'm staying here." Bellamy took only a split second to consider her response, an almost-emotion nearly showing in his face. His eyes landed on me and he seemed to ask silently without wanting to or meaning to. I looked away. He left.

Monty glared after him. "Power hungry, self-serving jackass. He doesn't care about anyone but himself." Monty looked at Octavia who looked away. "No offense." She shook her head to dismiss it.

"Yeah. Bellamy is all that... But he also happens to be right." We all looked at Finn as a tension settled in the air that set us on edge and hurt every nerve ending in our bodies. Jasper was going to die. My comfort for Octavia, letting her know that of all the things Bellamy was struggling with and being a dick about, he still very much loved her... it died in my throat.

I was sick. I believed Clarke with every fiber in my being, but hearing Finn say it instead of Bellamy... it felt so real.

-

Earth sucks, can I just say that? Jasper's sitting her dying and then a yellow fog that was deadly and toxic- literally burning and poisonous. As if we didn't already have enough to deal with?

When Charlotte approached me, I was surprised. "Where's Clarke?"

I faced her, my expression softening. "She's gone. What do you need? I'm her friend."

The girl looked at me a second. "The- the boy. I can't- the screaming-"

Placing my hand on her shoulder to comfort her, I offered a weak smile. "Do you want to take a walk?" She nodded. I knew she was going to ask or suggest it and I had no right to stop her. Only memorize our path so we wouldn't get lost and bring a weapon or two so we wouldn't get killed. I stopped by the weapons tent to grab an ax for me and a dagger for her and we were off. At first, we were just walking and I thought it was meaningless. But then we ran into Bellamy and the other hunting party and Charlotte stepped on a stick and almost got an ax through her head. "Who are-" Bellamy began, jogging up. But then his eyes landed on me. "Y/n?"

"Jasper was b-bothering her," I explained, choking on the word I used to express her emotion. "We both needed a walk. Figured she'd do better with a guide. And a weapon."

Atom stepped up. I glared at him but he didn't see, too busy purposefully avoiding my eyes. "There are Grounders out here, it's too dangerous for a little girl."

"I'm not little," Charlotte insisted, glaring softly. I smiled down at her, proud. There was a pause and I looked up. To my surprise, Bellamy's eyes were trained on me. He blinked, panic crossing his face for a half a beat before he looked away- as if caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Okay then," he told Charlotte, smiling. He looked so familiar with that smile. It made me feel normal. Calm. Real. Just for a second, everything was okay. Then he was serious again. "Have you ever killed something before?" Charlotte shook her head and I tried not to feel sick about it. She was a kid, sure. But... we were all kids. And we all had to do our share. Who was I to decide what her share was? "Who knows, you might be good at it." I thought of Jasper right then and when I looked back at her, my heart grew sad. We were all kids. Just a bunch of kids. What did we do to deserve THIS?

The fog came soon after. After someone far closer to it collapsed, screaming and steaming as it searing into his skin, we knew it was time to run. I kept Charlotte head of me and Bellamy stayed ahead of her, trying to scout somewhere to hide before the fog caught up to us all. Atom was right behind me... until he wasn't. "There's a cave!" Bell told us.

Just as Atom hollered, "BELLAMY! BELLAMY! Y/N!"

I turned as the fog hit me straight on. Atom called my name again. And again. "Atom!" I called back.

"Y/n no!" A hand was on my shoulder and I was pulled back against my will. I was choking on clean air, skin already red and eyes watering. I hissed and gasped and then I was crying because GOD it hurt. Arms wrapped around me and I was pressed into a chest. Familiar and firm. Warm. "Hey, calm down. Breathe and calm down."

"He's dead," I squeaked.

"I know," Bellamy whispered back. He hugged me tighter but I wondered if he did it to comfort me or hold me back from running after Atom to my death. "There's nothing we can do about it. Cole further into the cave. Come on." And I did. I followed him. He guided me to where Charlotte was and I sat down. She scooted next to me. She didn't hug me or cuddle me like Octavia would have- like she had, many times, especially when we were younger- but she did touch my leg with hers, letting me know she was there. The second she did so Bellamy was stepping away from me, distancing himself as much as he could. He wouldn't look at me, his hands curled into such tight fists that his knuckles were white.

We didn't talk again for a long time.

In fact, it wasn't until Charlotte fell asleep and then began screaming that we talked again at all. I pulled her up, whispering her name, and Bellamy moved close, his concern for the young girl overriding his distaste for being close to me. "Charlotte, wake up," Bellamy coaxed.

The girl sat up and I ran my hand along the side of her face, pushing her hair away. Bellamy has fallen asleep but I hadn't even nodded off yet. Now we were all wide awake. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Bellamy looked at her as she leaned into my hand. "Does that happen often?" Charlotte sighed. "What are you scared of?" he asked, firm. It was the firmness he used to comfort me and ease Octavia though. Charlotte brought that soft side out of him that I knew so well. The softness that belonged to MY Bellamy. "You know what?" He spoke up again after she stayed silent, dragging an awkward quiet out for a few seconds. "It doesn't matter." She looked at him. So did I. "The only thing that matters is what you do about it."

"But..." she mumbled. "I'm asleep."

He shrugged. "Fears are fears. Slay your demons when you're awake, they won't be able to get you when you're asleep." It was a phrase he had told me often and I was shocked to hear it come from him again. This new Bellamy saying things that I had carried with me from a past I longed for.

"Yeah," Charlotte piped up, drawing my eyes back to her bad my mind out of its hole. "But, how?"

"You can't afford to be weak." I looked at him sharply. "Down here, weakness is death- Fear is death." A pause. "Let me see that night I gave you." She silently handed it over. I watched, unsure what to think of him and his tactics. "Now when you feel afraid, you hold tight to that knife, and you say, 'Screw you, I'm not afraid.'"

He gave it back to her and she looked at it, her tiny fingers holding tight to it. "Screw you," she echoed firmly. "I'm not afraid. I actually smiled. Charlotte repeated the phrase.

Bellamy pats her leg. "Slay your demons kid. Then you'll be able to sleep."

I placed my hand on her shoulder. "That's not the only way to go you know." She looked at me. "He's right about a lot of it. Forget your fear, don't let it control you. Face your demons, take them down. But... fear isn't weakness. No emotion is a weakness, if you know how to USE it. Take that fear and let it drive you. Let it become the weapon you use to stay alive. Don't shrink from it, don't hate it. 'The best way to get rid of an enemy is to make it your friend.' Read that in a book somewhere once." She smiled along with me. "Get some sleep okay?" She nodded. "If you need, you can lay with me."

For a second I thought she was going to turn me down. But then she didn't. "Yeah, I would like that."

She fell asleep pretty quickly and I admired her ability. I thought I was the only one awake before I heard Bellamy whisper, "I don't understand you." I stayed silent. "You betray us and get my sister locked up and then she acts like you saved her life? Keeps claiming I don't know the whole story. And you're just like I remember you, just... quieter. Tormented. I don't know. What the hell aren't you telling me Y/n?"

I looked over at him to see his eyes wide and his expression open and honest. My heart fell into my stomach. "What's the point?" I whispered. "You hate me. No amount of telling you anything is going to change that. In fact, it might send you for a loop and make things really complicated and honestly, you're dealing with enough right now. And I- I don't want to talk about that night. The night I left."

"You don't have to protect me from whatever you're trying to protect me from! I'm a big boy, I'm sure I can handle it," he scoffed at me.

My eyes bore into his. "But I can't." He paused. "Okay? I can't see- this is all so- there's too much! Clarke is my friend and it's easier if you hate me. Then I can hate you for wanting to kill Jasper and pretend you're wrong and it's just easier."

He looked away.

I don't know if either of us fell completely asleep but when morning came, I felt as if the half-awake daze I'd been in did more damage than pulling an all-nighter. He checked outside to see if it was safe and then when it deemed it to be, called me and Charlotte after him. We found his other friends. "Where did you go?" Bellamy asked the guy he was talking to. Jones, he said.

"We made it to a cave down there," Jones replied.

Bellamy nodded. "Where's Atom?" Jones shrugged. Charlotte's scream cut the exchange off. We'd all started to look around, began drifting in different directions. The second she screamed, Bellamy and I were taking off after her. We both froze at her side when we came up on Atom, messed up and gasping painfully as he barely held onto life. His skin was deep red, some spots almost brown- blistered raised little bumps all over his body. And his eyes... "Son of a bitch," Bellamy hissed under his breath. He pressed forward and I turned Charlotte away, burying her face in my side. "Atom?" Bellamy leaned close as Atom whispered something I was nowhere near close enough to hear.

Charlotte pulled away after calming down, moving to Bellamy's side. Her hand found mine, dragging me along with her. Seeing him up close was even worse. She reached into her pocket, tugging out the dagger I'd given her the day before. The one Bellamy had told her to clutch if she was scared. She placed it in his open, loose palm. He looked over. "Don't be afraid," she encouraged him. I frowned.

"Go back to camp," Bellamy called to the others. They left immediately. Charlotte didn't move. "Charlotte, Y/n, you too." She turned, following after the others. I didn't move. He looked at me.

I shook my head decisively. "I'm not leaving you here alone."

"I don't need you here," he grumbled.

"I don't care," I snapped back in response. Atom groaned on the ground and we both looked back. "Come on Bellamy, stop wasting time." He turned back to Atom, kneeling down slowly. Atom offered his neck, begging Bellamy to do him mercy. My face scrunched up in pain. Octavia... Atom begged and begged but Bellamy couldn't move. I thought back to all the smack talk he'd delivered about killing Jasper and Clarke not being able to make the hard choice.

Movement caught my eye and I looked over. Speak of the Devil... Clarke walked up, pain in her face. She kneeled on the other side of Atom, across from Bellamy. "I heard screams," she managed after a second."

"Charlotte found him," Bellamy told her, his voice almost hoarse. "I sent her back to camp."

Clarke looked him up and down and then looked back to Bellamy. She gave a decisive shake of her head- lost cause. My hands curled into fists at my side. Bellamy looked away. Clarke looked back to Atom. "Okay," she whispered, forcing a smile, her voice weak and breathless. "I'm gonna help you, alright?" She leaned over him, one hand going to stroke the side of his face. She started humming soothingly. Her other hand reached for the blade in Bellamy's hand. Still humming, she pushed the blade into his throat and then pulled it out. Bellamy watched her, transfixed. Awed. The only thing I could think was that Clarke was the perfect leader. Merciful, resourceful, driven, and smart. She could do hard things. She could be serious. Bellamy could be a perfect second in command though. Form her stuff ideas and strict need for the rules to make a balance between need and want. If they would just work together...

The walk back to camp was silent, but it was seeing Octavia are Atom, dead and messed up, that was the worst part. She stormed off, even blowing me off. When I went to go after her, Bellamy stopped me. "Give her some space." I nodded, stepping away. He was right. She needed space to grieve. He turned to Murphy, barely keeping it together. "Did we lose anyone here?"

"No," he huffed. "Jasper's still breathing. Unfortunately." I tensed, my eyes boring into him. "I tried to end him but your psycho little sister-"

I would have been on top of him but Bellamy got to him first. One of his hands gripped Murphy by the collar, keeping him close as he screamed. "MY WHAT? MY WHAT?" I felt his anger, shaking in my rage as I forced myself to sit still. I'd never seen Murphy look at shaken as he did.

"Your little sister," Murphy corrected, shoving Bellamy away. I stepped forward, right at Bellamy's shoulder.

Bellamy calmed. Just a little. "Yeah that's right," he eased. “My little sister. Got anything else you wanna say about her?"

Murphy looked between us a few times before replying, "Nothing. Sorry." His voice cracked but I didn't get anything from it.

It didn't make me feels complicated or angry or even regretful. I just felt angry. I hated John Murphy. Hated him with every fiber in my being. Bellamy stepped away from him, pausing. "Get him out of here." He motioned to Atom as he turned away, stalking into the woods.

I turned to go as well, but I didn't go after Octavia or Bellamy. I went after Wells. We were digging Atom's grave went Clarke came. "I'll leave you two alone," I whispered, already feeling the tension. Clarke and Wells both gave me a grateful smile and I nodded before walking. I didn't want to go back to camp because I needed some space, so I just walked.

That seemed to be a really great way to find the one person I was trying to avoid because as I walked, I stumbled upon a pacing Bellamy. I tripped in surprise and he looked over. I immediately turned to book it but he raced to me. "Wait." He closed the distance easily, his fingers wrapping around my wrist. We stood there a second. "You were right. Clarke too. I was trying to do what I thought was right, but... I ended up messing it all up." He paused, taking a painful breath in. "I'm sorry. I should have treated Jasper that way." I didn't move. "Y/n..." My face twisted as I tried to resist him and the power he still had over me. "Y/n..." I looked at him. God, he was beautiful. Besides that, though, he was also home. "What happened? That day? What REALLY happened? When you disappeared." I shook my head and he stepped closer. "How did you get stuck in this stupid situation?"

Finally, I broke. "You and your dad were- were gone. Your mom was asleep, downstairs. Then- they came for her." I couldn't look at him. "Some of the neighbored said they saw a second girl in the house. A girl who looked to be apart of the family. Said they heard your dad say 'watch your sister' one day. They came for her and I..." I closed my eyes. "They dragged your mom away. And- and she was so scared." I pulled away from him.

He only stepped closer. "Y/n, please."

"I told her to stay silent and I went out. Said I was your sister. Before I left- I told her to lie to you. Tell you- anything. So you wouldn't come looking for me. So you wouldn't find out. I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't want you to be guilty and hate yourself. But I couldn't let her get caught Bell, I couldn't-"

Instantly he pulled me closer. "Y/n, I..." He held me as I cried.

"Bell, I love Octavia with all my heart. I gave my life for her and she got lined up to die anyway. But I still meant well. If I knew... I don't know, I wouldn't have had her lie to you. Maybe. I don't know! I'm sorry- I'm s- I-"

He leaned back. "Breathe, Y/n, breathe." But I couldn't. I closed my eyes as tears fell down my face as I shook as my body refused to let me take in air. "Panic attack," he realized. I'd had them before. When I got too stressed- like now, when everything was happening too fast - my body became dysfunctional as I went into overdrive.

In a moment of such purpose I couldn't even question it when I looked back later, he leaned close and did the only thing he knew how to do when I was shutting down like this.

He kissed me.

Just as always, his touch and the way his hair tickled my forehead and the feel of his lips on mine as his hands brushed my waist or my neck or my cheek soothed me. He calmed the raging ocean and I was still. Broken and hurt and messy, but calm.

Somewhere else in the woods, Wells and Charlotte sat next to each other. Talking, for now. But as I kissed the man I loved for the first time in a year a half, the full truth out and in the air, Charlotte sunk a dagger into his neck. She took our advice, slaying her demons... in far too literal a sense. As my world finally seemed to be coming together, Well's world ended. And that marked the beginning of the end for the rest of us, too.

[brooklynislandgirl]

[Lorcan and Beth] ❤♡❥ღ💕💘💝💓💌💟💙💚💜💛

Heart Eyes || -Selectively- Accepting

❤: who is more affectionate in public? in private?The biting. The scratching. The ambushes in alleys, the limping home afterwards to patch up the wounds. Every inch was a bloody war waged with little care for Collateral Damage, a phrase Beth has always hated. Whatever cruel savagery Lorcan came up with, she did her best to outdo him, feeling the magick in her veins boiling over.And behind closed doors? If anything, it’s worse. It’s brutal. There’s no affection in any sense of the word, she isn’t built that way any more and he never had been. Things are thrown. Words are snarled. If anything, there’s even less respect between them. 

There was a term for it back during the age of sail… No Quarter Asked or Given.And for the life of her, she can’t make herself regret it.

“I…don’ unnerstan’ da question.”

♡: who is the bigger romantic openly? secretly?

A feral smile graces her lips.Romantic. As in Legions locusting their way across unconquered territories, decimating entire swathes of people, taking spoils in the form of exotic beasts and gold and slaves and wives, burning and salting the land as they go to ensure nothing rises up again in its place, supplanting the native culture with that of the Empire...oh yes, Lorcan is far more romantic than Beth.

But she’s always been a fast learner and he’s not getting away completely unscathed any more, is he? That leering smile of his is becoming a little harder to come by.

“I mean…depends onna day, really.”

❥: who is more likely to plan something big for valentine’s day?

For Valentine’s day, he’d gotten her an box of candy hearts. More correctly it was a box of human hearts cut into bite sized bits and dipped in some kind of spicy, dark chocolate coating.Andy was tasked with the manhunt for the killer who left no less than twenty heartless bodies scattered across New York City. After weeks of no leads, a special unit of the FBI had come in to take over the investigation. She only belatedly realised it had been a Technocratic cabal, and that their mission had been to sanitise the situation. At least that was the rumour. She almost had to laugh because they’d never find him. And her brother looked incompetent.

Maybe that was the best gift of all.

And what did she give him in return? She kept his secret.

“Absolutely Lorcan.”

ღ: who is more likely to initiate hand-holding in public?

She snatches at his wrist. Coils fingers around it like vines and holds it in an iron grip. A flick of her thumb and there’s a razor thin slash across the softer skin and his blood flows free. There’s a moment of surprise in his eyes before they narrow on her and he bares his teeth. A promise threat to be consummated at a place and a time of his choosing. She doesn’t bother to apologise.

She soaks her fingertips in his viscera and makes a design on the brick wall. Something eldritch and arcane in a language that…wasn’t. He’s intrigued and she knows it. And when she pushes on the last brick and the wall dissolves into green mossy woods that haven’t existed in more centuries than even he can fathom, she knows she’s got him completely. So what does she do?

She digs her claws in deeper. Until they’re deflected by the actual bones in his arm before she rips them away.And then? Then she slips through the portal…and she runs.“Dis one gonna hafta say is really all me.”

💕: who is more likely to make huge declarations of love in front of other people?

She almost chokes on the word. She’s sure if he were in her place…but no, he wouldn’t have allowed such an interrogation. What they have…what they do isn’t love. It’s not even close. It’s…necessary. It’s nature at it’s darkest aspect, the survival of the fittest, and they haven’t yet figured out which one was going to walk away, and which one wasn’t.“Nex’ question.”💘: who developed a crush on the other first?

She can’t quite remember. It’s like waking up from a vivid dream but the second your eyes open it all starts to fall away until all that’s left are the emotional impressions and none of the imagery. But she’s sure that the accusation was that Lorcan had been born out of the loss…of a woman she might have been lifetimes ago. That he’d been a consolidation of agony and grief and a rage so bright, so pure, that it threatened to destroy everything around it. But Beth? She knows that’s a lie. A beautifully and tragically created one. “I guess ya could say…him.”

💝: who spends more time (possibly overthinking) what presents to get the other?

Again, she laughs. What do you give a god when you worship…nothing. When your belief in all things has thinned so much that you’ve become an impenetrable island of your own making? He leaves her ever increasingly disturbing gifts, usually of the organic and very much bloody kind. She leaves him new scars without a thought. And what she really wants from him? He withholds. Toys with the promise of it. Enraptures her with the idea of just how easy, just how quick he can make it all…then dances away before she blinks.

He makes her scream.Someday, she’s going to make him cry.“We both do, in our own ways.”

💓: who initiates most physical contact?

It happens. Every. Single. Time. The second he gets a chance, he slips in behind her. Cuts into the hinge of her jaw with claw or fang before running his tongue along the brittle edges of her and up to her ear. His breath hot and damp like a tropical storm waiting to happen. Pushing. Always pushing. Trying to get a rise out of her and she never fails to disappoint him.

And for her part? She’s learned how to cut and run, both figuratively and metaphorically. Guerrilla tactics because she can’t stand toe to toe with him despite all of her magick. As he likes to point out…she isn’t an Oracle yet, and he doesn’t have to obey a damn thing. So she gets as close as he lets her and uses tricks. Poison here. Cold iron there. Her own natural fangs and claws honed to razor sharpness.

And sometimes… well, anomalies happen. The time she soothed a palm across his back because his grief was more painful than anything she could do. The time he watched over as she slept off the worst effects of someone else’s assault, and feathered his fingers through her hair.

“Take turns, really. Maybe da mos’ normal kine about us, really.”

💌: who is more likely to send cutesy texts to the other?

Luka shows up on her doorstep, half drunk and half maudlin. There’s new bruises. There’s cuts and healing bones. He’s exhausted and doesn’t put up a fight when she lets him in ~some day, he’ll use the door~ and she can’t help but wonder if he uses the fire-escape because the rickety old thing is technically cold iron. She peels his shirt off slowly and trails her fingers along the wounds which some are already half healed. She patches up what isn’t and narrows her eyes behind his back, as she’s staunching a particularly deep cut. To anyone else, these would look like self-inflicted wounds. She knows better.And the longer she ignores him, the worse it’s going to get.“Uhm. I guess…you could say it’s Lorcan.”

💟: who spends time reading their zodiac compatibilities?

“Seriously? For reals?! Yeah, go ahead. Make one single moon joke. I dare you.”💙: who is more protective?

‘Lorcan, please.’He was going to do it. He was actually…going…to do it.Her heart squeezed itself in her chest and she couldn’t draw a breath.

He hunkered down over the edge of the roof, one arm extended outward. From his tenuous grasp, his claws sank into her brother’s throat, and Andy dangled at his whim, hands clutching desperately at Lorcan’s forearm. Andy’s face was turning shades that she couldn’t even begin to describe, the veins in his brow pulsing with adrenaline and for the first time she can remember… there was genuine fear in his bloodshot eyes.

‘Jus’…pu’ him back onna roof, please…ya no can…’For a moment he turns his head back over his shoulder. Glares at her with a madness in his eyes that surpasses anything she has seen before. They gleam lambent in the moonlight as he snarls at her, strands of saliva spanning the space between his fangs.

‘Please? Jus’ dis once. F’ me?’

She’s absolutely certain he’s going to let go and this time nothing she can do will keep her brother from splattering over the pavement seven storeys below.That multitude of voices he speaks with sends ice down her spine. She barely catches the words over the choking sounds Andy’s making again.

‘Ye e'er be touchin’ ..e'er be lookin’ at ‘er any way bu’ proper princlin’…oi’ be givin’ ye o’ repeat o’ who burned ye kingdom an’ e'erd'in’ ye loved ta d'ground around ye corpse.’Beth shivers.“Definitely Lorcan.”

💚: who tends to get sick more often? who is better at taking care of the other?

The moon’s turned again, hiding its light from the world. The tides are at their lowest, sea and blood alike, and he’s fallen victim of his own melancholy. He never talks about himself in these moments, but what is otherwise so terrible and fierce, grows thoughtful and full of sorrow for these three nights. She doesn’t have to look at the sky beyond his hollow to know this. And what can she do but sit there quietly. Let him rest his head in her lap and stroke those fiery strands away from his face. This is the closest that Lorcan gets to sleeping, to dreaming, all of him curled up protective of his own ribs and internal organs, eyes barely slitted open and surely unseeing.

It’s not a sickness either, but maybe it is. A malady of the mind. Whatever it is, she’ll watch over him those nights. And she won’t speak of it afterwards.“Me.”

💜: who said “i love you” first? or, if neither has said it yet, who is more likely to say it first?

“He calls me Beth.”

💛: who believes in soulmates?

The door slams open. It makes the Man in White’s face pale because there was no alarms. No screaming. No sound of chain-guns firing through the corridors. He starts to stand up and in a blur of motion, faster than her eyes can track, there’s a flash of shadow. A slick, wet sound that ends in a gurgle.The Man in White is now soaked crimson, and some of the arterial spray splashes across her face. She watches almost dispassionately as the body falls in two separate pieces.

For just a split second, she thinks he’s actually going to leave her there. The leer on his maw suggests it, dripping red and wide in a close approximation of a smile.

“Raicleach.”She narrows her eyes.“Maugrim.”

Primium shackles were designed to bind the changing breeds. To ward off ghosts and hamper fae. To counter a mage’s Sphere Magick and prevent them from working their will. They weren’t meant to be proof against the divine.She rubs at the raw flesh of her abraded wrists.

“What took you so long?”“Were ye poi'nin’ o'way d'loss o'me?””No.”“Good. Now, move yer arse, woman.”

[lululawlawlu-writes]

The Hardest Part of Living

notes:This fic is for the LawLu Bang 2018-2019 sponsored by @lawlu-events @mushroom-san created this super cute & sweet art work for part 1.

tags: post-apocalyptic au, mentions of suicidal thoughts, terminal illness, attempts at levity

summary: Law is a descendant of humans who were able to survive nuclear annihilation, but radiation, in addition to other man-made pollutants had been seeping into their underground bunker, slowly poisoning them.  Now Law’s the only one left alive. Although he'd made a promise to his departed sister that he would find a cure and live a full life for the both of them, his future seems bleak.

The day he meets Luffy could turn his life around. Luffy has a secret that could be the key to saving him, but neither he nor Luffy knows it yet.

___________________

Part 1: It’s hard to depart from this life when there’s no exit.

Law wrenches open one side the rusty metal medicine cabinet, grainy orange rust particles powdering his fingers. His eyes skim over the contents—old medicine bottles, a safety razor, and a lighter.

His eyes study his face in the rust-mottled mirror on the closed side of the cabinet. He runs a hand over his stubbly, two-toned face, contemplating a shave. Well, he doesn’t have anyone to impress. There isn’t too much chance that he’ll run into anyone worthwhile in the near future either, but what’s the point in being a survivor in a post apocalyptic wasteland if he can’t go about taking as he pleases and looking damn good while doing it. At the very least, making an effort to look decent helps him feel a little less like he’s falling apart from the inside out. 

His aching fingers absentmindedly wander to his cheek to scratch at the itching patch of white that’s blossomed there, flaking off the irritating blanched skin, leaving a burning sensation beneath his fingertips. Attempting a shave is likely a bad idea—he’d probably just end up peeling off half of his face in the process. This dying slowly shit is so goddamn annoying.

He pockets the lighter anyway. It could be useful. He takes up one of the long cylindrical medicine bottles—prescription pain medication, opioids long past their expiration date. He should probably keep those too because why the hell not. If they’re still potent, they might help his chronic aches and addictive though they may be, he isn’t planning on living long enough for that to take effect. At twenty-six he’s already well outlived nearly everyone he’s ever known.  

Struggling with terminal illness isn't exactly Law's ideal way to live. It’s excruciatingly painful, sure but more than anything, it’s annoying as fuck. What good is being stuck in some cruel joke of a life which keeps him half-alive, while he can practically feel himself rotting away like a goddamn zombie.

Law knows he’s been cursed from the start—born with half a lifespan and not much reason to value it. Thanks to the valiant efforts of his ancestors, humans have survived nuclear holocaust—humans, not necessarily humanity.  He tries twice to get the lid off of the pills before he realizes he’s meant to push down as he turns the lid. He’s already scraped his fingers along the ridges of the cap, lost his skin in the process. The pad of his thumb aches; the soft skin on the side of his forefinger gone hot like it’s on fire, protesting the strain of everyday activity. He places the bottle on the cracked marble countertop next to the sink, leaning into it. A grunt of frustration, a little extra leverage, and losing another layer of skin seems to be just what it takes to finally pop the top—nothing like a little extra pain to help him remember just how much he could use some relief before he meets his inevitable death.   He wouldn’t put it past his dick-bag ancestors to have set him up to die like this. They'd probably consider his poor life tragic and beautiful. They were the same people who made death so romanticized in their movies. If those ancient movies are any indication of how people actually thought back then, with their tragedy and self-sacrifice worship, it's no wonder the world has turned out to be a hollow, burned-out shell of what it once was. Hell, he's sure revering such shallow ideals is what got his community in the bunker wiped off the face of the Earth.

Law shakes the bottle lightly, assessing its contents—a handful of chalky little pills. He tips two of them out into his hand where they camouflage themselves against the splotch of white on his palm, similar even in texture. Both look so pale and lifeless. He contemplates dumping the rest into his mouth. There’s a temptation just to hurry things along and end it all before he ends up bedridden, crippled with pain, wasting away because he hasn’t got the strength even to feed himself. But he’s promised he wouldn’t.

Law is sure he isn't going to have a beautiful or meaningful Hollywood-esque death that would serve to inspire anyone. He sure as hell isn't going to come up with some ‘touching’ last words. He imagines his last words will be something like "Aw, fuck," although even a line like that might be too contrived. At least he has plenty of time to think of something better. On second thought, maybe he would actually try giving that flowery last-words bullshit a shot after all, just for the sake of irony. Dying a slow, painful death might not be without it's merits after all.

It’s not that Law actually wants to languish in pain, waiting for death to come around. He would much rather get it over and done with. He would've even tried to put a bullet in his own brain by now, but lack of ammunition and a naïve promise that he’ll find a cure are the only things holding him back. Poisoning so bad it’s seeped into the core of his DNA structure doesn’t really seem like something he can cure, but in retrospect, how could he have refused his little sister’s dying wish for him to keep going. At least she’ll never know he can’t make it a reality.

“Hey, you in the bathroom, You want something to eat?” calls a voice from the other side of the wall, muffled by layers of cracked plaster and rotting drywall.

Law nearly jumps out of his skin—practically tosses the painkillers across the room. He thought he was alone in this abandoned house, if that’s what you’d call it because a half-torched, roofless structure with two of its external walls missing doesn’t really seem like one anymore. He’d checked for any signs of a possible resident when he came in. He’s usually extremely cautious about such things. It wouldn’t take much more than a five-year-old with a stick to take down his weak ass, and he knows that out here in this wasteland there’s likely to be much worse. Still, he’d checked every room top-to-bottom when he’d arrived and hadn’t heard anyone else come in, so who the hell- “I’m Luffy, by the way.” Ok, so Luffy, apparently. “Who are you?” Luffy speaks again, closer this time, as if a breath’s width away from the door.

Law has no time at all to think before the door is shoved aside and he finds a small, opened tin of ham thrust into his hand. The scrawny guy who’s given it to him casually kicks down the toilet lid, taking a seat backward over the toilet. He releases an armful of provisions, presumably for himself, onto the tank of the toilet like it’s perfectly normal to use a toilet as a makeshift table and chair.

“Cheers!” he cries, clinking a tin of ham against Law’s own. He shoots Law a wide, toothy grin and tosses his head back, shaking the tin over his mouth until the ham slides out with a sick, sucking sound. Pale pink jelly-like substance drips from the can onto his face. It runs down his cheek mimicking the line of a thin scar etched under his left eye.

Law eyes the tin of meat in his own hand. This could be some sort of trap. This person could be an organ trafficker or something. Well, it’s not like Law has a lot to live for anyway, although being murdered by a stranger isn’t really how he wants to go. For a guy who wants to get it over with, he sure is being picky about death.

The mass of ham he’s been given does look a thousand times more interesting than the dried-out, flavourless rations he’s recently had the pleasure of surviving on. Its pinkish hue and marbling is indicative of actual meat, if ancient movies are to be believed. He wouldn’t know from personal experience, but the smell of it—that can’t be normal. It smells awful, pungent, somewhat sulfuric—like farts. And if humans of the past voluntarily ate things that stank like intestinal expulsions, they were a lot more messed up than Law gave them credit for. “Good shit, yeah?” Luffy says, eyebrows raised, beaming up at him from his spot on the toilet lid. Maybe this guy is more messed up than Law gives him credit for. He doesn’t even seem to care about the look of the tinned meat or its flatulent odors. Law watches him toss back a third can. The scent alone is starting to make Law’s stomach turn. He cautiously leans in to place his can of ham on the back of the toilet.

“You never told me your name,” Luffy notes, reaching for the new addition to his personal buffet. He passes Law a long, vacuum-sealed packet of crackers instead. Now this is food he can eat. “I’m Law Trafalgar,” he says. The plastic along the perforated line twists around Law’s fingers but doesn’t tear open.

“You from the underground? Your name sounds weird like underground people.” Luffy muses. “I’m from a PPU if that’s what you mean.” Law turns the packet over, attempting to rip it open from the other side.   “What’s a PPU?” Luffy asks around a mouthful of ham. He takes the packet from Law, breaking off the corner of the crackers as he rips it open. “Population Preservation Unit.” Law specifies, taking back the opened packet offered to him. “That’s underground, isn’t it?” Luffy hums in thought, licks the canned ham lid. “It’s getting dark,” he tells him.  “So let me stay at your cool underground base tonight.”

Law hadn’t been offering and he doesn’t want to think of the dangers that letting outsiders in can cause. This time he can’t make an attempt to assuage his fears with the notion that he’s near-death and has nothing to lose. The PPU is almost more of an embodiment of himself than he is at this point. It holds all that he ever was—his culture, his memories, his last connections to his people and their legacy of death and decay. In a way it’s as precious to him as it is painful. He’d rather keep those hallowed metal halls to himself, though he isn’t sure how to refuse Luffy. The guy has just shared a vital resource with him. “Alright, let’s go,” Luffy tells him, jumping up from his spot. It’s not a question. “Show me your home!” Though Luffy’s tone doesn’t sound threatening, Law knows that the matter is not up for debate.

By the time the bunker comes into view, the sun is dipping low on the horizon, spilling crimson hues into the sky as if it’s impaling itself onto the hills in a last-ditch effort to get free of the world. Law feels like he can relate on some level. He wouldn’t mind being free of it all but being impaled is a pretty slow way to go. Slower than a sunset for sure—look who’s being picky about his death again.

The sun may be fading into the distance but a suffocatingly hot humidity still hangs in the air, heavy, blanketing everything. It never really goes away. Law had given up feeling uncomfortable in the heat a long time ago but it still weighs on him. When he’s walking out here alone in the wasteland his brain sometimes likes to fantasize about the inevitability that he could either drown in his sweat or lose all moisture and shrivel up to nothing, become mummified.

He doesn’t get to indulge in such thoughts today. Today he’s with Luffy, and the inane chit-chat he’s offering is enough pull Law’s attention away from his morbid daydreams.

“You got anything to eat at home?” Luffy asks.

“You just ate,” Law points out.

“It’s weird, but I’m so hungry all the time since the thing happened. You think it’s possible to miss someone so bad it makes you hungry all the time?”

Law wants to ask him what the hell he’s talking about, but  his head is reeling and his mind feels blurry, out of focus. It’s physically hard for him to walk distances. There’s a dull aching behind Law’s knees that makes them feel like they’re ready to give out at any second. He can’t help stumbling.

“Traffy, hey, you okay?” Luffy’s saying, “Let’s get you back to your secret underground base quick.”

Law feels his wrists being grabbed and pulled over Luffy’s shoulders but doesn’t have the strength to protest being picked up. Luffy lifts him up around the hips to carry him piggyback. Although it’s cheesy and embarrassing, and he’d rather die than admit it, it’s kind of nice to ride piggyback like people did in those ancient movies he watched as a kid. Here he is, just like Vanessa being carried by Wade in the classic 2023 film, Deadpool 4.

It’s really, really nice, actually. Law feels more at ease than he’s felt in years. It’s not just a matter of giving up, saying that he’s close to death anyway. It’s almost startling for him to realize he actually feels safe. There’s something about Luffy—something genuine in his actions, something disarming in his smile, that makes Law want to trust him. Law sighs, closing his eyes, resting his head on Luffy’s shoulder. Right about now is when the leading role, Wade, would tell his love, Vanessa, something sweet.

“You smell nice,” Luffy tells him softly, and Law feels his heartbeat pick up, tightness building in his chest that he wishes he could blame on his illness, but then  “-like food.” And the feeling is gone. Law still thinks he appreciates the sentiment though Luffy’s words are nowhere near as romantic as the line in the movie. It’d almost be weird if it was romantic. After all, he’s only just met this guy.

Law swears he only closes his eyes for a second, but when he blinks them open, he’s already in the entryway to the bunker and Luffy’s dropping him from his shoulders.

“How’d you know the code for the door lock?” Law asks. He presses the palms of his hands over his aching eyes. “You didn’t break it did you?”

“What do you mean?” Luffy blinks at him. “It was already open.”

Already open?! That shouldn’t be. Law’s blood turns cold in his veins. His every nerve prickles with the chilling realization that he and Luffy are not alone here.

Sure the bunker is visible from the outside, if you’re really looking for it. But it isn’t easy to get past the security codes or penetrate the layers of protective steel by other means. Besides, as far as Law is aware, most salvagers don’t find it worth the trouble to use their resources for breaking into bunkers. He’s been told the kind of outdated, dysfunctional tech they’d find in a bunker just isn’t that valuable.

Law is almost certain it has to be someone who knows him personally, which just puts him at further unease. He doesn’t have friends.

[ghostmartyr]

Pokémon Black 2 Randomized Nuzlocke Run [Part 3]

With some interesting carnage leading us through it, the second badge has been earned. Better yet, we got a TM for a Special Poison move, so Caspet can now be a little more secure in her help.

Team as of the moment:

Stella (Poliwhirl)

Caspet (Gastly)

Okay then.

New routes please.

Hey me.

I have been invited to Pokestar Studios. It’s like Hollywood. Roxie’s dad ran off there to be a movie star. Roxie’s now running off there to talk him out of it. We’re going to run off there and have a terrible time with movies.

I don’t know why I remember the movie place. I think there was either some achievement or plot barrier there, and I hated the process but perfectionism insisted on trying again and... idk. Hopefully that distaste won’t be part of this run.

Can I please just be allowed to catch a third party member.

Is there any grass here. Please.

Stop dragging me to movies.

Stop dragging me to terrible movies.

Like there’s clearly some Emotions going on with Roxie’s father, but oh my gosh I do not play these games for becoming a movie star. ;-; Free me. ;-;

I have control of myself again, so I don’t know if I actually have to shoot a movie, but I feel like Roxie and her dad might require me to, and in any case, one won’t hurt too badly. I guess.

Wait, was it a medal thing? Is that why I made myself nuts over this?

Movie shot, script followed, yay, leaving.

Ahoy, plot!

Sequel Team Plasma is so very open about wanting to take over the world. How refreshing. They’ve gone from knights to pirates. Most excellent.

Pop Roxie is back to captaining, so it’s time to run off to Castelia and find another darn teammate.

And our first act of being in Castelia is a clown giving us a bicycle. Rocking.

A boat takes us to Liberty Garden. I think this is where Victini is if Victini is activated, but I’m not sure if that will be the case with this version. The important question is... does it also have other grass.

Fuckdamn it doesn’t.

Yay, entering random buildings in Castelia gave me an Exp. Share.

In keeping with me doing stupid things, I go to the Game Freak building and chat up some of the trainers who are not nearly as strong as they are post-game, thank goodness.

I really.

Really.

Would like.

More than two pokemon in my party.

I also finally gave in and talked to the medal guy in the Pokemon Center.

My achievement hunting tendencies are going to be the largest obstacle between me and any progress ever.

-whispers-

I want all of them.

Other conversations gave me an Eviolite, so that goes to Stella. ...Wait, no, Caspet. Uggggggh.

Burgh is missing from his Gym, which is fine, since I don’t think I’m ready for another round. I’m just walking around trying to check off whatever plot stuff I can that will let me catch something else.

Oh hey, I think talking to Iris opens up the sewers! I think that means I can catch something down there! !!!!

Pleeeeeease give me something.

Please, ominous guise of darkness.

Oh no.

Russell’s partnering with us, so. Uh. What’s the rule for this? I have to catch the first thing I see, but as long as I’m in a duo, I won’t be able to throw a ball very easily...

Fuuuuuuck.

Okay. We took out Panpour.

I have the ability to throw a ball, which means.

This is my catch option for the route.

Haaaa. And Russell’s Dewott is using Fury Cutter. Its damage will keep going up. I think I have two tries to catch it.

Yeehaw.

Try one is a bust.

Oh hey that’s neat! The Dewott used Razor Shell on Stella, because Stella has Water Absorb and had taken damage! That’s smarter than I expected from the partner AI.

And that means I can spare a turn or two trying to put Serperior to sleep. Since Stella still has Hypnosis.

Yo, it hit! And Dewott heals me again!

But. I need Serperior to be more damaged. I shouldn’t risk attacking. ...I’ll just keep throwing balls and wait for Dewott to hurt it a little more.

HECK YEAH WHO’S DA MAN.

Hot damn that was stressful.

Now I gotta give this girl a name.

Sylarana, wanna rock?

Also, now having Russell with me is a good thing, because this squad could use some levels.

What are you like, Syl?

She’s Careful and proud of her power.

Yeah, pride looks good on that sprite.

I don’t know what Serperior’s stats are with a neutral nature. That takes some stress off, since I’ll just go with the flow, but I prefer to know what I’m getting into, usually. Either way, Defense is stronger than Attack, and that’s just fine.

Female Nidoran are down here, too.

This is working out well enough. Yay for buddy healing. I almost don’t want it to ever end. It’s so convenient.

I shouldn’t do this forever, though. That would get boring fast.

My starter breathing. Also cool pirate outfits in Pokemon Go.

Mooks dispatched.

Gym Leader located!

Look at Burgh being all artsy with his tour of the sewers.

Huh, and Russell just hands us Strength. Because all our pals are true bros in this gen.

Then a dude with anime hair walks out of the hole in the wall.

YO NEW ROUTE.

‘ello there.

...I am possibly not going to be able to catch you due to lack of poke balls and you being remarkably stubborn.

Hey, there we go!

What to name you... what to name you... A magnificent sea serpent with a rainbow tail...

Nessy!

Without Russell healing us every fight, we can’t stick around. Back out of the sewers we go, to receive happy words from Iris. Well. Sort of happy words. She worries about Russell and tells us to challenge the Gym.

I, being a compliant sort, walk back into the sewers after healing.

Okay I guess it’s a cave. Sylarana out front, Nessy with Exp. Share while I contemplate what the heck this team does against a Bug Gym.

Ooooh, Forretress.

...

Is. is there anywhere I can go that can pave the way to me getting a Fire pokemon?

You know what, I don’t like things that blow themselves up at me. Guh, this is taking forever. I might need to buy a few Repels just so I can explore the cave properly... I believe there’s grass somewhere past the sewers, and if I could have a slightly more diverse team going into the next whatever, I’d like it.

Oh, and before I forget, Nessy!

She is Quirky and mischievous. She and Stella have half their personalities in common. Delightful. Marvel Scale is also a neat ability to have. Not one I can utilize properly because I’m a competitive failure, but still cool.

Neat, there’s Pidgeot down here.

Looks like there’s not much of the cave to explore at this point in the game. Ah well. Back to the sewers.

Hm. Would the desert north of Castelia be open to me yet? That could prove useful. Heck, is anywhere outside of this city open? I just need a little patch of grass somewhere new.

Bridge still being inspected.

A wild Bianca appears!

Dowsing Machine get!

Hello, this is new.

But there’s still spots of desert.

OH MY GOSH LOOK AT IT.

Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh.

Caught!

Your new name is Itsy, and you are much beloved!

Itsy is Modest and somewhat vain, and ouch that is not a nature I think I like for this little one, but adorableness beats everything, so we’re good.

Butterfree is also in the desert. Oooo Pawniard. Back to the sewers, though. Easier training fodder.

Grass located!

...And if I were a better trainer, I would go back and buy poke balls before exploring, but I have the impulse control of a toddler. Oh, and it’s dark grass vs. light grass...

Decision will be made by rapidly running between the two and seeing what triggers an encounter first.

Dark grass it is!

Aaaaaaaa fuck off.

I love Lapras so much. So so so so so so so so much. But I have two Water pokemon already, as well as an Ice one. I. can’t focus on catching the Lapras. It would be a bad idea.

You have never seen anyone so sad to encounter a Dratini during a Nuzlocke.

The wild Lapras fainted.

Oh fucking hell the Dratini knows Dragon Rage and both my pokemon are under 40 HP. Caspet’s turn on healing Caspet, Sylarana’s turn on getting her out of there.

Okay. Confused and slept.

Now I just. catch it. With four poke balls and two great balls left.

...Three poke balls, and guess who woke up.

Great ball. C’mon great ball.

..One great ball left.

Also if Dratini hurts itself in confusion one more time it is dead.

FORTUNE SMILES ON THE CRIMINALLY STUPID.

Now let’s run everyone back through the sewers and--

Did. did I really hit the no nickname option.

Ffs.

Okay, run back through the sewers, hit the Pokemon Center, and then name the critter. The Name Rater’s somewhere in the city, I think.

Heh. The guy in the alleyway still gives us Flash.

Congratulations, Puff! You are now eligible for activity!

Puff is Quiet and alert to sounds. An adorable addition to our squad. He’s going to be temporarily up front thanks to Dragon Rage. The Game Freak fights are once a day, and it’s been a day, so!

I believe in you, Puff!

Dragon Rage is so op this early. Dreamor agrees. But Puff’s ours, so that makes it okay.

Hm. I have six now. They could keep each other out of trouble.

There are so many areas in these sewers I can’t get to. Or maybe I can, it just involves more maze work than I’m expecting. ...Yeah, it’s looking like that side. Hey, a nurse guy! Yay for less walking up to the Pokemon Center.

Oh, and Poison... might be super effective against Bug? I think the whatsit thing he has is Bug/Grass, so that isn’t actually much of a confirmation. Eh, I’ll find out soon enough.

I’ve found a room full of Zweilous. That’s a safe grinding area, right? Itsy’s got Ice and everything. Vullaby and Dwebble are also here.

Heeeeeey, Caspet’s evolving!

And wants to learn another physical Ghost move.

Bye Lick.

Okay, Gym it is.

...Wow Burgh. Really went full Art on the place, huh? Did trainers complain that you were forcing them to walk through honey before letting them fight you?

Puff’s up first. I don’t have much type advantage here, so it’s just going to be hitting things until they break.

Burgh.

Hey Burgh.

This Gym is creepy.

The cocoons just suck you in and zoom you up. Only think Willy Wonka style.

Mooks have level 20s, so this should be a little uncomfortable for a few of the younger members, but Caspet, Stella, and Sylarana should be fine. For now, Puff’s still in front and Dragon Raging all the things.

And we’re going to the Pokemon Center after every fight, but hey. Baby steps in all things. Puff is on one of the slower exp tracks, so every little bit helps.

...Burgh. Buddy.

You want to talk?

This Gym feels like a cry for help.

In true shounen protagonist style, I will settle your troubled emotions through battle! Even if none of the dialogue will admit to how concerning the aesthetics of your chosen arena are!

Everything is hitting critical hits.

...Oh wait, I’m supposed to narrate these fights, aren’t I?

Uh. Swadloon down, Dwebble down, Leavanny left, Leavanny’s level 24. Caspet’s out to deal with it after Puff handled Swadloon and Nessy handled Dwebble.

Caspet one-shots it like a champ, and on we go.

Burgh, this trinket in no way makes me less concerned for you.

Still, though! Everyone’s alive, and we have a team full of six! Nice work, ladies and Puff. Five more badges to go! Let’s hope they go well!

[impressivepress]

We Should Be Grateful Charlie Chaplin Made 'The Great Dictator' When He Did

Charlie Chaplin is understood to have confided to his friends that, had he known about the full horrors of the Nazi regime, he would probably not have got around to making The Great Dictator.

“There are things in our century that wipe away even the most poisonous smile from the face of the most passionate satirist,” wrote one of the 20th century’s foremost historians. He was referring to Karl Kraus, the great Austrian journalist-polemicist-satirist, whose book The Last Days of Mankind, written in the inter-war years, is a 20th-century classic.  When it came to lampooning National Socialism and Adolf Hitler, Kraus says, “nothing occurs to me”. A little later, he adds: “The word fell asleep when that world awoke.”

When the Holocaust became common knowledge, Chaplin must have also felt that his craft was inadequate to render Hitler’s world in any known cinematic genre – political satire or vaudeville, burlesque or tragedy. The Great Dictator was conceptualised and filmed when it was still possible to make fun of the Fuehrer.

Chaplin started shooting for the film in September 1939, just days after Germany invaded Poland. But he had been planning a movie on Hitler for years before that, and worked on his script through 1938-39. From Nazi newsreels, he had carefully studied Hitler’s mannerisms and the way he harangued large crowds. Chaplin also watched Leni Riefenstahl’s propaganda documentary Triumph of the Will (1935) several times over to make sure that he knew Nazi rituals well enough; his incredible talent for mimicry did the rest.

The film shoot took a little over six months. By the time Chaplin sat down to edit and add the music tracks, Hitler was overrunning Belgium and Holland while France was gently nudging itself into surrender. When The Great Dictator released in the US in October 1940, London was being carpet-bombed by the Luftwaffe, Neville Chamberlain had already made way for Churchill as the British prime minister and Warsaw’s Jews were being herded into the first ghettos run by the Nazis. However, the tone of the film had already been set before the active hostilities began. A tragedy loomed clearly enough then, but few thought yet that it was the Armageddon.

This perspective is important for understanding the satirical and political scope of Chaplin’s film. The ‘final solution of the Jewish problem’ was not only in the future, it had perhaps not begun to take shape as yet in even the most malevolent Nazi sensibility. Chaplin had set out to spoof the pompous bully who was absurd and arrogant, but not yet quite the hideous hangman history was to know him as. Hitler still regarded Mussolini with something of the awe that the disciple reserves for his mentor – this gave Chaplin the opportunity to flesh out a memorable love-hate-love relationship – and  Mussolini’s precipitous invasion of Greece, which annoyed Hitler no end, was not to happen before end-October 1940.

The Great Dictator can very well look a tad too light-hearted today; the fact that an uproariously funny story is being told around what can only be described as unmitigated evil can surprise its modern-day viewers. But it is undoubtedly a film true to its time.

And The Great Dictator is much more than a parody. It is a stirring denunciation of fascism’s core principles – xenophobia, intolerance, bigoted nationalism and anti-Semitism. It is funny, but its world is intrinsically violent. Hynkel is often nervous, even shy, but in the presence of his pretty secretary, his predatory instincts are aroused in a trice.  Holding her in a tight embrace, he digs his teeth into her neck with sudden vehemence, the whole act looking more like the tearing of flesh than love-making. The utter casualness with which he gives up his prey when the telephone buzzes suddenly makes the scene even more chilling.

Writing in Criterion, Michael Wood notes the effortlessness with which Chaplin shows us “how lethal the ludicrous can be”:

Nothing in the film is quite as frightening as the sight and sound of the ludicrous Hynkel casually ordering the execution of three thousand striking workers.

Chaplin plays around marvellously with this crossover between rollicking humour and unmixed horror. Wood has pointed out how the harmless barber waving a razor over the bare throat of a customer looks more murderous than Hynkel ever does in the film. But the masterly mixing of the strains of Johannes Brahms’ ‘Hungarian Dance no 5’ into this edge-of-the-seat scene adds that piquancy which is signature Chaplin.

Again, as the barber sets out on his first date with Hannah, the storm-troopers arrive to get him. A long shot shows the SS men approaching the couple from one end of the street. The barber stops dead, turns around and heads in the other direction nonchalantly, as though nothing was the matter. Another long shot captures another SS column closing in on him from the other direction. Now in panic, the barber scrambles for safety, running first this way and then that, and the camera pans back a long distance before an aerial shot shows him being swept up by an avalanche of burly SS men.

As masterful as the casual mixing of horror and humour is the blending of the ridiculous and the sublime in The Great Dictator. Gracefully, even tenderly, Hynkel performs the unforgettable balloon-ballet with Wagner’s ‘Lohengrin’ playing softly on the soundtrack. But then he slips on to a tabletop, and goes on bouncing the globe-balloon off his behind, with loving care, a dreamy, enchanted look frozen on his face. When finally he tries to get both his arms around the balloon, it bursts with a scream in his face.

Again, as the fugitive Schultz plots Hynkel’s assassination while sheltering in the ghetto, a serio-comic drama plays out around a noble enterprise. Each of the ‘volunteers’ (Schultz smartly rules himself out right at the beginning) pledges himself to the great project, but is aghast when he finds the fateful coin in his pie. The scene  soon turns into a boisterous farce.

The Nazis hated Chaplin, because they found his humour irreverent, subversive – hardly the kind that promoted the ‘wholesome family values’ so beloved of Hitler. In his 1931 trip to Berlin, Chaplin proved hugely popular in Germany and, though the Nazis did not like his spectacular success in all his public engagements, there was not much they could do at that point.

After Hitler rose to power, however, things changed dramatically for Chaplin, as they did for many other popular artists, German and non-German. In 1935, Goebbels banned The Gold Rush in Germany, presumably because the film ran counter to wholesome family entertainment. Even before that, in 1934, Goebbels had authorised the publication of a slanderous little book titled The Jews are Looking at You which, among other choice epithets, described Chaplin as “a disgusting Jewish acrobat” (Chaplin was not Jewish, though). Chaplin had seen the book, and it is safe to assume that his resolve to make a film around Nazism hardened because of it.

Given this background, he could hardly have chosen to play a part in the film that was non-Jewish. And Chaplin being Chaplin, he decided to deliver the coup de grace by playing Hitler as well. It must have been with grim satisfaction that he wrote into one of the opening credits of The Great Dictator words that dripped with irony: “Any resemblance between Hynkel the dictator and the Jewish barber is purely coincidental”. Of course, Chaplin wanted his audience to not look at the dictator and the barber through the same eyes. He expected the audience to laugh right through the film, but he hoped that while the viewers would laugh with the barber for the most part, they would laugh at Hynkel with derision, loathing and worse.

The Great Dictator represented another momentous event: it was Chaplin’s first ‘talkie’. (Modern Times in 1936 had a character screaming at people from a giant TV screen for a few moments, besides the inspired nonsense of the tramp’s song at the cabaret. But it remained a silent movie otherwise.) Chaplin seems to be exploring the enormous potential of his new ‘device’ with great relish here. Hynkel’s public speeches are pure genius. He speaks a mock German that bristles with coughs, sibilants, gutturals and splutters, with occasional identifiable words like sauerkraut (pickled cabbage) and schnitzel (fried meat slice) thrown in with  gusto. It is pure gibberish delivered at an extremely, feverishly high pitch – so much so that the microphone itself cringes on its stem.

In another scene, Hynkel dictates an official note to a typist in a matter-of-fact manner. He is speaking aloud while she is taking it down on her typewriter. When Hynkel spouts a long, solemn sentence, she knocks out just a couple of letters. But when he offers only a monosyllable, she types furiously for several lines, clanging the machine as she works it intently. Hynkel looks on, amazed, but she remains completely unruffled, business-like. This playing-off of sound against meaning is an idea that could only have occurred to someone who was transitioning  from silent to talking films, but it is hard to imagine anyone else picturising it as brilliantly as Chaplin.

The film’s last sequence, of the barber speaking as Hynkel to his victorious troops, is an audacious piece of cinematic thinking. The speech’s content is perched on the edge of mawkishness, and as it begins to crescendo, it sounds very nearly shrill. And yet, in the end, Chaplin pulls it off magnificently. The barber hesitates, approaches the microphone apprehensively, and begins speaking haltingly. As he does that, the frame slowly sheds its sharp focus, becomes somewhat bleary, over-exposed, fuzzy. As his speech gains in passion and force, the speaker himself is no longer very real himself, and as Hannah looks up to the sky, the screen is bathed in a soft, other-worldly light. This is neither Hynkel nor even the barber speaking here, but Chaplin himself stepping in to deliver his own message as the creator of the movie. Come to think of it, this could have been the only way The Great Dictator could have concluded.

For years before the film was made, cartoonists had exploited the quite remarkable resemblance of Chaplin’s moustache with Hitler’s. Chaplin was, of course, all too aware of it himself (which is why he thought of casting himself as the dictator). He knew that, with the minimum of effort, his face could be touched up to look like Hitler’s. And he also knew that the similarities stretched beyond their physiognomy: they were born within four days of each other – Chaplin on April 16, Hitler on 20, both in 1889; and both rose from poverty and neglect to power and prominence.

Did these similarities trouble Chaplin? Many believe they did, Chaplin’s own son telling us they actually haunted his father:

Dad could never think of Hitler except with a shudder, half of horror, half of fascination. “Just think,”’ he would say uneasily, “he’s the madman, I’m the comic. But it could have been the other way around.”

Of course Hitler was not only a madman. Nor was Chaplin merely a comic. But in The Great Dictator, the intersection of insanity and laughter produced a memorable movie. Chaplin says he couldn’t have made the film except in 1938-39. We are grateful that he made it when he did.

~

Anjan Basu · 16. Apr 2019.

[mytwitterisdogtoast1]

Blastoise is the best starter *

For decades people have been arguing who is the best starter when it comes to the kanto region. This is usually through many means of math, personal choice, and in general, a heavy nostalgia factor. People play differently from others all the time and one of those ways is through the use of the rules called Nuzlocke rules. As of writing this I personally have done a Nuzlocke with all 3 Kanto starters in the 3rd generation game remakes. These games are called Fire Red and Leaf Green. This argument even lasts within these games and I want to try and settle it with a fair argument in several ways. Who is the best starter in Fire Red and Leaf Green?

We need in general to establish a few arguments that are important and a few that I personally have come across. We also in general need to establish the parameters of what this argument is based on. So let us try and do both of those:

:We will only be using Fire Red Leaf Green to quantify this argument BUT I will touch up on those games as well for a reasoning. :We will be using 3 different arguments from - Replacing your starter Who is the best of its type What battles you will be facing and what each Poke'mon can bring to the table specifically

I hope these are in general the best parameters for people to agree upon to make this a fair argument as some people will play using some ways such as replacing their starter, looking to find a better alternative, or straight up using it on their team.

Ok, first things first. Let's look at the games Red, Blue, Green, Yellow. We have a wonky system of how things work and a bare bones fighting system. This is fine as I would heavily assume that most people find the remakes of games from generations 1 and 2 to be the best games to nuzlocke as they are more within todays times but I know even if that is true that people would be angry if I didn't give some form of commentary on it. I would also be remiss to not give it a small thought as well since one of the arguments people have used against me was the use of generation 1 logic. From what I can conclude is that the best starters come down to 2 main factors. Firstly Charizard is one of the faster choices allowing him to have a huge critical hit factor with almost every move and it also gains slash which has a high critical hit factor which pretty much allows his pretty decent attack stat to allow it to shine through as well as his special attack. He can learn some pretty decent moves as well as will most likely go before everything you fight. Sure, he is frail but in general I think his critical hit chances are pretty decent if that is what you look for when it comes to an aggressive approach to combat. On that note Venusaur is by far probably the better choice as you have the chance to either deal massive damage with a critical hit move such as razor leaf and can set up toxic leech seed  combo. But this is only really my opinion since I personally do not nuzlocke the original games.

So before I really get into the meat of the argument I should explain a couple things. There has to be some sort of assumption written in that debates and any form of argument need to have a civil discourse where both people can make commentary on such things. Since this is right now not really possible I have to make some exceptions such as making assumptions on normal things to assume such as move sets. Next It is important to note the one thing that all nuzlockes have in common. The rules of the nuzlocke itself. If we change these rules than the parameters of the argument are changed as well. We are trying to determine the base question of who is the best starter in a Fire Red Leaf Green nuzlocke. Setting up based around your specific rules and regulations only changes the argument to better fit your wants and needs. We cannot do that as if I were to change the rules to what I follow than the real problem starts to arise. So until the argument is changed to something else we will start with the base argument before we change a parameter. The main parameters were already stated above with replacement and who is best of its type as well the battles you will be facing with only that specific Poke'mon. So without further ado let us begin the main argument and who would be the best and why.

Without giving an argument first I would like to first state who is best and then give the why as I feel that would be easier than to argue first than make the choice. That choice to me is indeed Squirtle. Some of you will see this and immediately go to the comments and start to argue, please, do not do this and read first. I will explain everything fairly.

First before anyone argues move diversity and diversity in general. Know that it is not as important as one might make it out to be. Many pokemon who are of the same type can learn enough moves to actually be diverse move-set wise as well as types only matter who you are fighting against more than anything else and when past the types who would have the advantage against you it would not be as important as you would make it out to be. Secondly we should also note that one bias that I personally have is that with the normal rules of the nuzlocke you would always choose bulkier pokemon as survivability is important since not dying helps you win. This is because with enough levels any Poke'mon can deal enough damage but not always necessarily outlive a stronger enemy.

Why is Squirtle the best choice. Firstly lets take into account the main argument. You can only have one guaranteed choice in your choices. Everything is random and with ever changing rules people use one main thing is consitent unless changed and that it choice of starter. We cannot use the base stats of a starter as they are all relatively even except for where the placement of those stats is. With the idea that survivability is the most important thing we know that Charizard is most likely to die to anything while Venusaur and Blastoise will have a higher chance of living. Since again the stats are very similar in stat total this will not be factored. Out of all the defensive stats Blastoise has the highest of defenses as well as the second highest of the HP stats but only 1 point lower than the highest. Let us take into account the reason why bulk is important is that we have to always assume the worst case scenario when playing. All enemies that can explode will always explode. Charizard is most likely incapable of surviving against those explosions. The best ones to use for this scenario are a Blastoise and Venusaur. With that in mind we have to also look at the important battles will be to see if they can survive those as well. We will be using who has the best advantage in each battle. The most important battles are as follows. Each gym leader, Rival, Elite 4 member, Enemy Team Leader. These battles are Brock, Misty, Surge, Erika, Koga, Sabrina, Blaine, Giovanni, Blue (for this instance his real name). When it comes to the enemy team we also should note that each member on their team in general will have the main types in Poison, Normal, Ground. So let's look specifically at the things we will be fighting.

We will start with the enemy main team first. The enemy main team will almost always consist of Zubats, Rattata, Ekans, Sandshrew, Machop Drowzee, Grimer, Koffing, Magnemite, Voltorb, Cubone. If we look at most of them it is something that Venusaur in general will have a more difficult time to fight, A total of 7 pokemon are either going to have a clear cut advantage or go even with him in terms of typing. When it comes to Blastoise it is a total of 2 that has a distinct advantage over him. We could put in favor of Blastoise in this situation as it favors him more methematically. Charizard to be fair is only effected by those same 2 in that they are electric types. Move sets are a little more difficult to break down against the fact that there are too many factors to take in with this so keeping it to the types with the worst assumption that each one has a super effective move at the best option would make it a better argument than assuming they are all with their weakest moves. This would mean we would assume all Zubats would have wing attack when fighting against a Venusaur while say all Voltorbs would have at worst Thunderbolt. This makes the arguments on these pokemon fair for all pokemon. On the adverse side of things we must assume that each of our chosen starters have no specifically advantageous moves learned from anything other than their move set for these as well. We could use moves taken from the TMS and HMS but let us instead put them at their individual weakest. Charizard can in fact defeat Machop no problem as it learns a flying move. Venusaur can defeat Sandshrew and Cubone as it learns a grass move. Blastoise learns a total of 2 different advantageous moves for things such as Drowzee with a dark move and both Cubone and Sandshrew with water moves. This would put Blastoise in the lead with most beneficial fights while venusaur will be at the least with charizard in the middle. This doesn't make any of them best or worst as this is only the weakest of arguments for any of them and we will now continue onto the leaders.

We need to take into account of how each type will give either a clear cut win, or a clear cut loss, or in fact it is even. In case of each of these we will also take move sets into account of what you would normally have at the level in case we want to use the argument of no over leveling as anyone with enough focus, commitment and sheer fucking will can in fact level up to level 100 before brock so using this as a parameter is the most fair way to make an assessment. Brock is the first person we will be fighting and he has 2 pokemon total in Geodude and Onix. Firstly we have Bulbasaur who has not evolved yet as your pokemon is in general the same as his highest level pokemon. Level 14 at most. This makes your move set Tackle, Growl, Leech Seed, Vine Whip. Brock will have no moves that are super effective against you thus you will be able to defeat him no problem. Charmander will have Growl, Scratch, Ember, Iron Claw. Brock will have on one of his pokemon Rock tomb allowing you to go "even" in this match. Squirtle will have tackle, Tail Whip, Bubble, Withdraw. Brock will have no super effective moves giving you the advantage. This puts Venusaur and Blastoise at a clear automatic advantage. Charizard is right now trailing behind by 0 to the others having 1. Misty would be second. from here we are going to assume very heavily that you will evolve your pokemon when given the level chance. Mostly because in general that is what the majority of people do unless your pokemon would learn a move before their next stage. Thankfully (to my knowledge) none of the starters do this. Ivysaur would to all assumptions for this have the move set of Vine whip, Leech Seed, Poison Powder, Sleep Powder. Misty would have Tackle, Recover, Harden, Water Pulse and her Starmie would have Recover, Water Pulse, Rapid Spin, Swift. You would have the advantage in that nothing hurts you that much and you could mitigate her healing with a Poison Powder. When it comes to Charmeleon you would have Smokescreen, Metal Claw, Ember, And most likely Scratch as it would not be resisted by her pokemon. Misty would again have her water move and would destroy your starter. You lose this match in general. When it comes to Wartortle you have Bite, Water gun, Withdraw, Tackle. Both her pokemon are in general psychic type and would lose to your super effective move giving you the advantage to her water and normal moves. Now Ivysaur would in general have an advantage since I assume you would use Powders and Leech seed to mitigate damage. This puts both Venusaur and Blastoise in the lead of 2 to 1 gyms where you can beat the gym leader or at least go even with. From now in instead of listing the move sets that will be used we will instead list the moves that will give each person of you and the gym leader a clear advantage on each of their pokemon because making the assumption for later move sets would cause too much of a problem and we will even at that point just show that brock would lose to grass move, lose to water move, go even with steel move to rock move, misty would lose to grass move, lose to dark move, and win against your non effective moves. When it comes to fighting Surge people would assume heavily that the victories are pretty cut and dry with things. Ivysaur would resist all of Surges moves that he mainly uses, Charmeleon would have a super effective move in Dig while taking normal damage going even as well with Ivysaur, and Lastly Wartortle would go even as well taking double damage but also learning how to use Dig would put you on more even terms. So far when it comes to who is at the most advantage it is still pretty even ground of 2 to 1  for Blastoise and Venusaur to Charizard. Erika comes next and this is where things get a little bit trickier. TMS are now a more important detail in that you can now if able buy or get some TMS that are most important to your playthrough. For this we have to keep in mind that the rules do no go against teaching your pokemon new moves via TM. Firstly you will go less than even against Erika when it comes to Ivysaur in that in general you do not learn any moves that allow you to have an advantage against any of her pokemon. Even Tangela goes even as it learns Ingrain to combat your Poison Powder. Charmeleon here is the clear winner of who has the advantage against this gym leader. Seeing as it learns Ember. It might not be the strongest move but it gives the clear advantage and seeing as in general they don't really have super effective moves you win this fight. Wartortle can go even with Ice Beam. This makes Charizard at an even 2 for everyone to have who would have the most advantage against gyms. Koga is next and has the clear advantage over Venusaur. Venusaur does not learn moves that allows it to combat fairly any of his pokemon. Charizard is the same way except with dig against his Muk. Lastly the same is true for Blastoise who does not also learn anything except Dig to fight Muk. To be fair though most of Kogas team use the Defense stat as their main defensive stat and those are the ones who are able to stop you from using Dig on them with Levitate. This would put Charizard and Blastoise as a clear cut winner compared to Venusaur who does not learn any super effective moves. The points now follow as such with everyone having 2 points for clear advantage against gyms as having a better stat distribution does not make you a clear winner. Sabrina Has the clear victory in that each of her pokemon learn a psychic move which defeats your venusaur. Charizard only defeats one of them with his fire moves and Blastoise has the clear victory with Bite and Dig to combat her Venomoth. This would give you the distinct advantage against her gym with Blastoise who now has 3-2 advantage. Blaine comes next and Blastoise as well as Charizard both resist his fire moves while also having moves to deal massive damage. 4-2 advantage of Charizard and Blastoise over Venusaur. Lastly is Giovanni with his rock and ground moves give him an advantage over charizard while Venusaur goes even against the types who are poison as well as ground who can go even with his poison type. Blastoise is the only one who has a clear cut advantage over them making in the end by this count 5-4-2 Blastoise, Charizard, Venusaur. Many people would argue the ability to heal or items but we have to make it that those things are not your pokemon so much as your bank account fighting. Secondly an easier way to look at fights is this. Venusaur learns a total of 4 damaging move types because Sludge Bomb is post game. Ground, fighting, normal, and grass. Out of all of these you will most likely not be putting Rock Smash on your pokemon as it makes 0 sense and other pokemon would learn it and Rock Smash is relatively a garbage move for fighting. So grass and normal moves are the things you would use in Strength and Razor Leaf or Giga Drain. Charizard learns a total of Fire, Fighting, Steel, Ground, Dragon. You would not get Dragon Claw until the E4 . Leaving Flamethrower, Iron Claw, and Wing Attack or Aerial Ace or Fly, and Brick Break. Blastoise would have Water, Dark, Fighting, Ground, Ice. You could fairly state that in general You would have Surf, Brick break, Ice Beam. Lastly you would most likely throw Earthquake on them if it was your only pokemon on your team as Earthquake would be helpful depending on the starter you chose. Venusaur and Blastoise would not need it as Charizard resists ground 100% while Arcanine would take damage from it and it would be best to throw it on charizard as well for other reasons.

When it comes to the Elite 4 we have to remember that their teams are not just one type like they say they are. Each one has a pokemon on their team that has nothing to do with their type. The idea here is to do the same thing as last time and see who would have the clear advantage over one trainer. Venusaur loses against lorelei as much as it has some advantage not every pokemon it fights is weak to grass moves while it is weak to ice moves. Charizard loses as much as venusaur in that even though it deals normal damage to some it also loses to all of them except Jynx who is the only real ice type while everything else has water moves. Blastoise is the only one who can go either even of with an advantage in that it has moves that cant be resisted as well as a dark move to deal with the two psychic types on their team. Bruno Goes even with everyone as he has some rock moves, and no one has real advantage move wise against everything so in the end it is relatively a fair fight. Agatha has a clear advantage with Venusaur as her pokemon resist him and in general he doesn't have anything special to deal with them. Charizard goes even while Blastoise has a ground, ice and dark move to go against them while not being defeated by their moves. This makes Blastoise a clear winner. Blastoise 1-0. Lance Is at an advantage against Venusaur as he learns multiple moves that hurt grass types and pokemon who resist his moves. Charizard doesn't fair much better with pokemon that resist his moves and lastly in general Blastoise is the only one who has a super effective move on all but one single pokemon while not having any weakness they exploit. This makes Blastoise an almost perfect fight against them. But sadly, that Gyarados fights against it.

The champion has the most diverse team in the game to fight against. He will always have a water, grass and fire type that changes depending on your starter choice and the main thing to remember is if you can again go even with moves against a pokemon on his team. Venusaur fights and goes even with Rhydon, as well as Gyarados, and Exeggutor. Losing only to his other 3 pokemon in Charizard, Alakazam, and Pidgeot. Charizard defeats Rhydon, Arcanine and Exeggutor with moves like Earthquake as well as Flamethrower and goes even with Alakazam and Pidgeot while losing to Blastoise. Blastoise has the best fight in that he has 4 moves that give him pretty even coverage to everything. You have Bite to fight Alakazam, You have Ice Beam for Venusaur and Pidgeot and even Gyarados and lastly you can outright beat Arcanine and Rhydon with Surf. This makes Blastoise out of the starters the best against the E4 and Champ.

Lets Take it even one step further and just assume Super effective moves let you outright win a fight against an enemy with some over leveling but not to level 100. A good amount is up to about 10 levels more than an enemy. This is a decent amount to give as some people (myself included since I wanna win) will do. In this we can look at all the moves given to each and say that in the end Blastoise is the only one with a real advantage in that he in general will be a pokemon who can outright defeat almost any enemy with a super effective move he can learn. What with Water moves to Brock, Dark to Misty, Ground to Surge, Ice to Erika, Ground to Koga, Dark/Ground to sabrina, Water to Blaine, Water to Giovanni, Dark to Lorelei, Water to Bruno, Dark/Ice/Ground to Agatha, Ice to Lance, and lastly, Ice, Dark, Water to Blue. Blastoise has way too many advnatageous matches in super effective moves that allow him to pull ahead of each main battle.

No other starter does as much as Blastoise does when it comes to being super effective. If we take roles into account blastoise has enough damage output with move choices as well as being able to get defensive moves to do the same as Venusaur. It learns Toxic as well as things like Rest and Double Team to make it hard for them to actually defeat him if he throws out Surf and Ice Beam. Charizard is just easier to beat if he goes the defensive route because he is not bulky enough to really take advantage of it. Venusaur is more of a defensive pokemon in general but can be offensive if need be. In the end Blastoise is the only one who can comfortably switch roles with no real issue. This would be my argument in general for using just a Blastoise only but the main thing to remember is you can alwasy fill your team with multiple members even if they are all water. Remember. It isn't specifically the type your pokemon is compared to the entirety of what it can do and what it fully has to offer. Stats, moves, abilities, stat distribution, typing, move set learning. Many things make up the importance or usability of your pokemon. Some people would assume replacing your starter would be the best idea. Let's look in general at the pokemon who could replace your starters.

One of the arguments I've faced when it comes to "replacing" a pokemon was that nothing compares to Venusaur but many things compare to Blastoise to which I would argue is an ignorant point to make. Let's talk about some hard facts when it comes to a nuzlocke. Before Brock in general you have some pokemon who can help out. Now sure, some of them might just end up dying before they can get in but thats chances we have to take. Sometimes a sacrifice is necessary and a completely horrible thing to do but 1 vs all is a fair thought to have. If this pokemon dies here i can save the rest and even this run. That's a thought everyone who has made a run has had ever. Let's be honest though. Saying there are no pokemon before Brock that can't fight as good as a starter is kind of wrong to say. Firstly you have Butterfree, Beedrill, Mankey. Now in general Beedrill is the worst of those three, but with enough growls and poison you should have no real issue fighting his rock move. Now, that is if for example Brock has no full heals. I believe in general he uses a potion or two but no full heals. Secondly even so, Butterfree and Mankey are pretty good solutions to Brock. See many people forget that even though he can throw a huge boulder, his pokemon kind of can't tank special attack hits making Butterfree a beast to fight with since it has a respectable special attack and learns Confusion. This is important to remember as special attacks are pretty much what really wins even more than than X4 damage from water and grass moves. Physical grass moves and water moves would probably hit that boy but not as hard as a special move does in general. That's why even with the resistance to fire you can still do some damage with even Ember. Mankey also in general just learns fighting moves that allows you to deal a decent chunk of damage while also resisting rock moves. Before misty you can catch magikarp, paras, zubat, clefairy, ekans, oddish/bellsprout. Magikarp who can evolve into gyarados who learns bite and is specially defensive, paras who is part grass and can tank some hits with his typing, zubat who learns bite who can damage them easier, clefairy who is specially defensive, ekans who has alright special defense and can learn bite, and oddish and bellsprout who are grass types with grass moves. Next you have surges gym which pokemon you can get before it are as follows of sandshrew, drowzee, diglett/dugtrio, nidoking/queen, and also the dig tm. Sandshrew, diglett, king/queen are all ground type and pretty much can defeat any of surges pokes and drowzee has a high special defense that he can straight up tank surges hits. The dig tm can be placed on things like raticate, arbok and so on. Lastly for erikas gym we have, well, we have a very large amount, theres like so many past and current route pokemon like flying types, psychic types, fire types, and so on. The list is diverse enough that by erikas gym you have a pokemon who in general can fight erikas pokemon and don't need your starter to do anything. From there you can collect and make sure you know what is basically going to be the main parts of your team for the rest of the game. Eevee is available, you can get a lapras and so many other things might pop up as well as even one of the Hitmons. Either way saying starters couldnt possibly be replaced compared to other pokemon is kind of a strange way to look at things from my view point. One of the arguments I heard was specifically that Bulbasaur is just too good compared to others of its type that you couldn't possibly do a fair trade while you can fair trade off Blastoise in general. Firstly, before getting into that I would like to again, say that you can in general not have a type on your team and team diversity is a small detail people get caught on. Personally I've had Blastoise, Lapras, and even Gyarados on my team and everything worked out fine. That's because middle to late game is where final team building is at its utmost importance. By the team you get to the end needing to have a grass type on your team or even a fire or water type isn't as important as figuring out what's best out of all your choices. You don't need a water pokemon who can surf if any pokemon that can use surf can fight evenly against Blaine. With that being said let's look at the pokemon who would be "replacing" anything because that is the next form of argument.

Venusaur - If we look at venusaur and what it has we need to look at what it mostly does as a whole. Venusaur is a defensive tank more than anything else. It has a somewhat shallow movepool diversity wise in that it learns 5 types, 1 of which suck and two of which are in general just tm's no one wants on their starters. Those moves being cut, strength, and rock smash. Strength in general is one of the only tms in the game that is worth using besides surf which is just strong in general and goes directly on anything that can learn it unless they have such low special it wouldnt matter. Like rhydon can learn surf, but why would you teach it surf? Point being that the main moves you can learn as Venusaur that are offensive that are really worth a damn in a nuzlocke are razor leaf, strength, giga drain, earthquake, sludge bomb. 2 I believe are late game in that earthquake is from giovanni, and sludge bomb is post game and a nuzlocke really ends when you beat the champ so you're not gonna need or get that move at all. So your 3-4 main moves are mostly razor leaf/giga drain, strength, earthquake. But I wouldn't throw earthquake on venusaur unless he was the only one on my list of possible team members who would learn it because venusaurs main strength lies in his tech moves and defensive stuff. This means your best moves lie in having sleep and poison powder/toxic, leech seed, synthesis/rest, double team, and maybe protect. Point is in offensive stats venusaur isnt really worth it as much as his stats show he can do damage because his best stuff is in things like poison powder, leech seed giga drain for more health and then outlast the enemy. Venusaur is a "thinking mans" pokemon which is great for fighting stuff no doubt but defense doesnt always win you a fight. If something comes along that can knock you out before you can outlast and whittle an opponent down the fight is mostly lose and we all know grass is one of the worst typings in the game being weak to most of the things you're gonna fight. Let's look at the other pokemon to show if they can "replace" venusaur.

Vileplume - If we look at vileplumes stat distribution and compare it to venusaurs roughly the same stat levels in everything but speed but since we're not looking to compare an offensive pokemon to an offensive pokemon and more leaning towards a defensive build like venusaur would we could take into account that the speed doesn't really matter too much in the end. With the leaf stone being what you need to evolve into this bad boy you could have him sooner than venusaur in your Locke if you for some reason had a stone, but since you get it around erikas gym lets assume they would evolve around the same level. Move pool isnt that much different except you don't learn strength or rock smash which isn't really a big loss. Moves are however a little more in favor of Vileplume in that it can learn petal dance while venusaur cannot. So if you wanted more offense you can do that instead of having to wait for or set up solar beams. (I personally don't use them but to each their own man.) You have acid, giga drain but again we're not looking for a super offensive pokemon in this 1 to 1 trade. Vileplume learns everything that venusaur learns except leech seed. But Vileplume learns stun spore which allows for an equal amount of trade off. Say you need to switch out but want to cripple them with lower speed for a pokemon to fight theirs. You can tank a hit, paralyze them, and then switch out. They now have that paralyzation for the match. Better than leech seed in some instances. Vileplume is almost literally a fair enough trade off to venusaur. They have the same typing, almost the same stat ratio, and to be 100% fair, its base stats are only so much lower, because of the speed loss. Theyre both pretty much even except by 5 points. Is 5 points too big a difference? No. 5 isn't that big and shouldnt sway anyone to choose venusaur because of it.

Parasect - This is one of the worst pokemon to have in any nuzlocke. Parasect sucks man. It really does. It is supposed to be offensively strong but there are some pokemon just stronger than it. Here is a quick list of pokemon who are generally better than parasect. Everyone. There, that is the list. Parasect has one move. Spore. That is its strong point and if sleep is good AFTER you tank a strong hit than fucking run 6 parasect. Tangent aside Parasect offers nothing besides spore and slash. Sure it can get dig and aerial ace but why would you teach it those moves when any other pokemon are better at attacking things like spearow, sandslash, arbok, dugtrio, and so many other pokemon who also outspeed this bad boys 30 base speed.

Victreebel - Even though we can't compare them both on a defensive stance Victreebel is literally the opposite in that offensively it is much better than venusaur. It might not learn strength like venusaur can but it does learn slam which is a comparable move power wise, while it deals equally as much damage. Now if we did compare them defensively Victreebel would indeed lose which I concede that point but in general they can both do the same offensively in growth, and special attacks such as razor leaf. Now in general Victreebel is kind of not that good compared to others, but in general it is good enough when it comes to being offensive compared to almost all the other grass. It comes in 4th and if you would rather have oddish in your party over bellsprout than the answer is simple. Play the game that has oddish in it.

Exeggutor - This is what I would say is equal to the other two best grass pokemon but I would compare them as apples and oranges. Both great but not for the same reasons. It learns strength, psychic, giga drain, stomp, and egg bomb. If you want it defensive it can learn all of what venusaur learns and stun spore as well as reflect, it can tank as well as be a power house. Is it slower? Yeah but if you're worried about speed just teach something sunny day and this bad boy will most likely outspeed things and take them on. As a 1 to 1 comparison it can't be dont but to say this isnt equal in value is what I would say in a word, wrong. Because venusaur is defensive compared to the offensive power of exeggutor.

Tangela - Do you want a tanky pokemon who can take hits and dish out some sweet sweet damage? Well look more further cause tangela isnt it! Jokes aside tangela isn't THAT bad but boy is it not that good either. Yeah it can tank physical hits but dies to anything special so even though it wont take double damage to psychic moves its gonna eat shit to all special moves in general. So it would tank against almost all the things that kill it (fire being the only special thing) but why would you purposely tank those moves anyway? Sure, in some scenarios its sometimes best to trade out something and let it die to let something better live but having a tangela on your team for that purpose feels, you know, kinda dumb. Positives? It can learn everything every other defensive pokemon learns except it also learns to dig into the ground and refuse to leave until it dies. You know, ingrain. Point im making is yeah this is fine, but it doesn't compare to anything and shouldn't be tried to be defended to take anythings place. Not a horrible pokemon, but certainly not good enough to take a first place spot. This is filler if there was anything it could be.

So the pokemon who are comparable to venusaur are exeggutor and vileplume. One of which is right before the second gym and also has multiple chances to be gotten in general. There are 3 grass types total who in general have the same level of use and that's a fair trade off compared to the lack of actual grass types compared to water types. Fire has it a little different in that it has even less options. Let's face it, Most of these pokemon as "fine" as they are only maybe 2-3 tops TOPS are even worth considering as one of the fire types to use in general but in the end I'd almost always give it up to the boy zard.

Charizard - Speed and damage are pretty much what you would get from big ol tubs the dragon. Charizard has a fair move set in that he can learn  a powerful fire move that is pretty much its strongest asset. Sure it can learn dragon claw but having a move set trying to be diverse isn't really the pull of someone like Charizard as you want to go in hard and go in fast. So having a tool box of moves isn't as important as hitting with the thing that will deal the most damage and if that is stopped use your second choice. This means throw out Lizard. Flamethrower. Repeat. If First move cannot be used than the best bet is to in general smack it with dragon move to deal damage. If that doesn't work than why use Zard?

Ninetails - The problem with Ninetails is that outside of meta it is not that good. It is equally as frail physically as other pokemon but it has a high special defense. The thing is it's a speed attacker who works like Charizard in that it wants to hit fast and hard but because its second main stat is special defense it doesn't hit like you want it to, and the only real move it learns is Flamethrower. Skipping Vulpix on your team also allows you to fill something else on the team to just have a Flamethrower slapped onto it that can perform special attacks and deal a ton of damage.

Arcanine - Even though it has a shallow move pool it is probably as good as or better than Charizard. In general you can still skip it but you have such high attack stats that even if you didn't just flamethrower things you could always just extreme speed them for a but ton of damage as well as priority. Iron tail allows you to fight rock types as well as ice that aren't resistant to it with water typing, you know, if you forget that in general that you can melt ice.

Rapidash - The only thing this pokemon has is that it can learn Solarbeam. That's about it. And if I didn't think Ninetails was a good replacement for Zard than I wouldn't think this is either.

Magmar - See, as strong as it generally is and how it can learn Thunderpunch which in this gen is amazing to have since it is a special attack and not a physical it sucks that you can't have it since that is an egg move. Here is the thing. Magmar just isn't that good compared to something like say Arcanine or even Charizard. Just no need to replace him unless you NEED Flamethrower using pokemon and Zard dies.

Flareon - Most people would assume I would say Flareon sucks but quite the opposite in fact. It has a large special attack even if it is lower than Zards and others but it has a huge physical attack in general. Which works for its more diverse move pool than the other two. You can learn a ghost move which is physical as well as ground, steel, and even dark type moves. Heck if you really want there is even a poison move. That's not the end of it. You also have a pretty decent special defense so you can tank some hits as well. The real issue is it is the worst of the 3 Eeveelutions in the game and most people would in general rather have one of the other two instead of Flareon.

When it comes to fire pokemon in general the 3 best ones in the game are Charizard and Arcanine and lastly Flareon. Now let's look at blastoise and see what compares to it and if you think this was alot to read and digest you have more since there are 16 of these water boys in the game and even though so many are later in the game we gotta compare them all since that's what we're doing here. Comparing every thing that could replace blastoise that is water type.

Blastoise - This bad boy is a tank who can dish out and take all kinds of damage and I mean all kinds of damage. Let's look at blastoise and see what hes got under the hood. Besides surf which comes on all water pokemon as if they were airbags on a car, we have bite, skull bash, rock smash, dive, focus punch, water pulse, toxic, ice beam, blizzard, iron tail, earthquake, dig, brick break, double team, rest, strength. All of which are pretty much viable moves on this bastard cause he has relatively equal offensive stats. He's almost as fast as a venusaur by 2 points and in general more tanky in pure stats but not in healing moves. Because blastoise, doesn't have anything other than rest which is fine because guess who has a pokeflute? You do. See as much as blastoise has so many other things it has to contest with, before even looking I can say it's going to outright be better than most of them with only 3-4 maybe tops by sheer volume being equal to it. Instead of going through and looking at them in order by number, we can look at the stuff that no one cares about first (nothing against faves, I mostly mean in stats, these pokemon are good and I like them but if seaking was good it wouldn't be in this dudes mod for the worst pokemon in the game as would most of these other pokemon.)

Kabutops - Let's be honest. It's alright. Its not the worst, but it's not really that good. Sure it has slash, and some speed, and it has rock moves and water moves grass ground flying and so on that it has diverse move pools but 1: It takes forever to grind out, and 2: It is slightly frail and the moves it does learn don't work on it well. Now sure The 2 gyms it will be good against as well as the elite 4 with some of the things you will fight you might have an upper hand but nothing that blastoise or something else in the better stuff can handle.

Omastar - Actually worse than kabutops in some ways except of how much of a wall it is in comparison. That being said it falls into the same categories because in general it has a worse move pool and just doesn't have anything special.

Seaking - Fuck yeah, seaking. AS much as I love this pokemon. It is hot garbage, Sure it can learn a grass and flying move. Sure it can learn water and ice moves. and yeah it's got ok stats but thats it. It's ok. It's not good and doesn't compare.

Seadra - This feels like a tangela in that it can tank a hit and deal a hit but only if that hit is not special. The thing is as much as it is fast and learns dragon dance it just also has nothing to offer compared to blastoise.

Golduck - Golduck is cool and all and can do a ton of things in that it has stats like blastoise does but it's just weaker and not a 1 to 1 comparison.

Kingler - Sure it has an amazingly high attack stat and yeah that is great but it lacks in move set areas where it is needed. If it could learn earthquake or maybe arial ace than sure, I'd rate this guy higher but in general he just isn't that good for a nuzlocke. Other play throughs sure. He is a good choice but his lack of moce set make it an issue to try and use him.

So here is where I'll start the good stuff to have and see if they can compare to blastoise.

Poliwrath - I'm gonna say it now. This dude is probably under rated. I wouldn't know as I have never used one in a nuzlocke but knowing its move set, and what it can do and its stats this bad boy is great to have in that he is just so good. Except the reason I haven't gotten one is I never get one. He is a little hard to get in general so as good as he is, he can't really be compared. It is better offensively in damage but not as good defensively.

Tentacruel - Easy to get but when it comes to a 1 to 1 in what they can do blastoise is well rounded while tentacruel is much more defensive. Sure it is easy to get as the Zubat of the sea which means that it doesn't die to sabrina but in general I think blastoise is gonna have to take this one. If built more defensive blastoise can easily fill the same role as tentacruel in that they can both poison a pokemon and set up healing and such. In the end as good as tentacruel is blastoise is still just better.

Dewgong - This is just like tentacruel in that as good as it is as a defensive pokemon, blastoise can do the exact same thing.

Cloyster - This is one of those amazing walls that if you can get it, use this bad boy. However, It loses to special attackers in that it just can't take this hits. It has one thing over blastoise while blastoise has several things over it. The defense stat is off the chart and sure with enough switching around you can make sure to mitigate most damage but in the end it isn't a 1 to 1 comparison like with venusaur and vileplume.

Vaporeon - A great pokemon with bulk and damage and even speed. Sure it might not have the greatest attack stat in the game or even compared to other water types but it has decent defense and hits the major move needed later in the game with ice. There are better choices than this in general and it only slightly falls short compared to blastoise in some areas but its bulk puts it up there.

These are the final ones who I think are even with blastoise.

Slowbro - You can only get this in leaf green but man if you can get it, put this bad boy onto your team cause the only thing it can't do is outspeed your enemy. you got psychic, surf, strength, water pulse, ice beam, toxic, iron tail, earthquake, psychic, shadow ball, brick break, flame thrower, fire blast, double team, rest, amnesia, curse, and yawn. Jesus man this is one of the best pokemon in the game when it comes to a nuzlocke it's like you're playing pokemon or something cause man your game is now easy. This isn't even a comparison in that this pokemon is so good that you can tank the hit, and proceed to flip them off and the game will see it and feel bad. It's also, psychic type. So it's the best type in the game.

Starmie - Man this bad boy is so good. I don't know how many times I'm gonna have to tell you these pokemon are good because in general the rest here are just that good. So let's drop that part and just say what they can all do from now on. Starmie can heal, it can do thunderbolts, ice beams, psychic, surf. It attacks hard and fast. You want an offensive pokemon? This is it.

Lapras - It tanks and hits hard with pretty much more diverse moves as well as being pretty much equal to blastoise. The only reason this is "better" is because of its typing and the fact it learns thunderbolt. But in the end they're pretty even.

Gyarados - Last but not least is gyarados. It's not as tanky as blastoise in some areas but what it lacks it makes up for in offense. It learns pretty much all the same stuff but only lacks in that it is "harder to raise". Which isn't a bad thing? The point is this is a great pokemon and is pretty much just as good as blastoise.

Looking at this large list of just water pokemon and trying to find a list of things to replace in general is one of those things that is easy to do but I have to stress that replacing your starter seems like a faulty idea to have in that in general they have great stats and decent move pools when compared to most other things. The other thing to remember is that grass types are some of the worst pokemon in the entire games types and even here you don't have much advantage trying to replace pokemon 1 for 1 in type specifically when you can per se' just throw moves onto a pokemon who can lose them. For example fire isn't needed in general but if you wanted one why not teach your Gyarados Flamethrower? Do you NEED to have a Fire type? That's a faulty way of thinking when it comes to team creation. It locks you into a team and how you construct them. Sure it would be good to have a good replacement for when a team member in general falls but to say you need to replace the one with another is just a foolish idea in and of itself.

Look, i get it. As someone who has had this argument a couple of times now with friends and random people on the internet and have now for some crazy reason made a large written reasoning why Blastoise is the best starter specifically in the generation 1 remakes that I get it. I love pokemon and I love nuzlockes in general because of how fun they are and can be. I also have nostalgia for certain pokemon in general. Heck, my favorite pokemon isn't even that good and most of my favorites are just bad in general but when we look at how good something is we can't just look at one angle and express that it's this specific reason and thus for all reasons this pokemon is the best. Blastoise out performs all other starters in Kanto. It also out performs most other pokemon in general in a nuzlocke scenario. It has some of the best moves any one can use and it also has great stats. Typing is not important compared to if your pokemon is able to not die. Again this also comes down to rules set up by the person playing the nuzlocke. Remember, the main 3 rules are as follows. Name it, First encounter only, and If it faints it is gone forever. With those in mind, not knowing what we can get and only being able to choose our starters, Squirtle is the best choice to make.

[mbtizone]

Sweeney Todd (Sweeney Todd): INFP

Dominant Introverted Feeling [Fi]: Sweeney Todd has his own ideas about justice, which he takes into his own hands. He believes that London is filled with greedy, amoral souls. For Sweeney, there are two kinds of people – those who struggle just to survive in this world, and those who make this task difficult for the less fortunate ones. He feels that everyone deserves to die. Terrible people should be eliminated from the world, and the rest should be relieved from their suffering. His views of the world cause him to play God, wiping many people from existence. Sweeney doesn’t give a damn about anybody else’s feelings; he’s much too caught up with his own to pay attention to anybody else’s. He ignores Mrs. Lovett’s displays of affection and doesn’t acknowledge Anthony when he tries to shake his hand goodbye because of how preoccupied he is with his own emotions. and He sees things as black and white and is steadfast in his convictions. His views and ideas about the world are completely fixed. Before he was imprisoned, he valued his wife for her beauty and her virtue, while he describes himself as naive and foolish. He laments that the the privileged ruin that which is beautiful and good. He doesn’t openly discuss his feelings, but becomes hellbent on doing something about his pain, which leads him to a vengeful path. Sweeney identifies with his razors because they, like him, have been locked away and hidden from the world for a very long time. He connects with his razors on a deeper level than anyone – including Mrs. Lovett.

Auxiliary Extroverted Intuition [Ne]: Although he has spent many years in incarceration, Sweeney allows himself to dream of a future where he is reunited with his wife and child. Such a long time has gone by and he has virtually no idea what awaits him once he rejoins society, but he holds onto this fantasy despite the odds. His experiences over the years have made him cynical and bitter, but he appears retain a certain amount of hope for a happy conclusion to his story. When he is lead to believe that there is no happily-ever-after for him, he chooses to disregard the law and acts out against the corrupt, nefarious system by finding a different path for himself. He’s good at coming up with ideas, whether that’s inventing a chair that will easily dispose of his victims, or gaining business for himself by undermining his competition. He’s always focused on the next kill and never really allows himself to just live in the moment.

Tertiary Introverted Sensing [Si]: Because of his tragic past, Sweeney adopts a bleak outlook on the entire world. He is so caught up in quest for revenge that he fails to be present in his life. He is unable to let go of the past and it is what motivates him. He compares things to the way they used to be, and wishes for Johanna to resemble her mother. He becomes consumed with his memories, reliving them so intensely that the rest of the world seems to disappear around him. His horrific experiences have shaped his unfavorable outlook on society and the world as a whole, which leads him to develop a rigid, unhealthy belief system (Fi-Si).

Inferior Extroverted Thinking [Te]: Even though Sweeney’s actions are all driven from an emotional place, he carried them out in a manner that is devoid of emotion. He’s completely focused on his mission and does whatever he needs to do to get the job done. He is so eager to put his plans into motion that he is neglectful of those around him. He can be authoritarian when stressed. Sweeney refuses to allow Toby to stop off at the grocery when he instructs him to deliver his letter to Judge Turpin. After he impulsively kills Pirelli, he believes he needs to kill Toby as well to cover his tracks, and is all set to do it until Mrs. Lovett comes up with an alternative option for the boy.

Enneagram: 4w5 5w4 8w9 Sp/Sx

Note: I don’t think it really needs to be said, but Sweeney Todd is probably one of the least healthy INFPs I’ll ever type. It’s also worth noting that he spends most of his time in a Fi-Si loop.

Quotes:

Sweeney Todd: Fifteen years. I’ve sweated in a living hell on a false charge. Fifteen years dreaming I might come home to a wife and child.

Sweeney Todd: You are young… Life has been kind to you… You will learn. There’s a hole in the world like a great black pit and the vermin of the world inhabit it and its morals aren’t worth what a pig can spit and it goes by the name of London… At the top of the hole sit a privileged few Making mock of the vermin in the lower zoo turning beauty to filth and greed… I too have sailed the world and seen its wonders, for the cruelty of men is as wondrous as Peru but there’s no place like London!

Sweeney Todd: I beg your indulgence, Antony, But my mind is far from easy. In these once familiar streets I feel shadows, everywhere

Sweeney Todd: There was a barber and his wife and she was beautiful… a foolish barber and his wife. She was his reason and his life… and she was beautiful, and she was virtuous. And he was naive. There was another man who saw that she was beautiful… A pious vulture of the law who, with a gesture of his claw, removed the barber from his plate! Then there was nothing but to wait! And she would fall! So soft! So young! So lost and oh, so beautiful!

Sweeney Todd: My friend. My faithful friend… Speak to me friend. Whisper… I’ll listen. I know, I know you’ve been locked out of sight all these years, like me

Pirelli: My elixir is “piss!?” Who says this? Sweeney Todd: I do. I’m Mr. Sweeney Todd, of Fleet Street. I have opened a bottle of Pirelli’s Elixir, and I say to you, that is nothing but an arrant fraud — concocted from piss and ink. Furthermore, signor – I have serviced no kings, yet I’ll wager that I can shave a cheek with ten times more dexterity, than any street mountebank.

Sweeney Todd: There’s a hole in the world like a great black pit and it’s filled with people who are filled with shit, And the vermin of the world inhabit it.. But not for long They all deserve to die Tell you why, Mrs. Lovett Tell you why Because in all Of the whole human race, Mrs. Lovett There’s the one staying put in his proper place And the one with his foot in the other one’s face Look at me, Mrs Lovett, look at you.

No we all deserve to die even you, Mrs Lovett, even I Because the lives of the wicked should be made brief For the rest of us death will be a relief We all deserve to die.

Sweeney Todd: And are you beautiful and pale With yellow hair Like her? I’d want you beautiful and pale The way I’ve dreamed you were Johanna Johanna And if you’re beautiful, what then With yellow hair Like wheat? I think we shall not meet again My little dove My sweet Johanna

Sweeney Todd: So where is Lucy? Where is my wife? Mrs. Lovett: She poisoned herself. Arsenic, from the apothecary around the corner. Tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t listen to me. And he’s got your daughter. Sweeney Todd: He? Judge Turpin? Mrs. Lovett: Adopted her. Like his own. Sweeney Todd: Fifteen years. I’ve sweated in a living hell on a false charge. Fifteen years dreaming I might come home to a wife and child. Mrs. Lovett: Well, I can’t say the years have been particularly kind to you, Mr. Barker. Sweeney Todd: No, not Barker. That man is dead It’s Todd now. Sweeney Todd. And he will have his revenge.

Mrs. Lovett: So, what are we gonna do about the boy, then? Sweeney Todd: Send him up. Mrs. Lovett: We don’t need to worry about him. He’s a simple thing. Sweeney Todd: Send him up! Mrs. Lovett: Now, Mr. T, surely one’s enough for today. ‘Sides, I was thinking of hiring a lad to help me run the shop. Me poor knees aren’t what they used to be. Sweeney Todd: All right.

Sweeney Todd: You’re not to stop, you’re not to speak. Deliver the letter. Do you understand?

Sweeney Todd (Sweeney Todd): INFP was originally published on MBTI Zone

[douchebagbrainwaves]

I'VE BEEN PONDERING IDEA

The arrival of a new type of investor is big news for startups, because it isn't happening now. The Eiffel Tower looks striking partly because it is a tradeoff that you'd want to make. But actually the two are not that highly correlated. Over-engineering is poison. Unknowing imitation is almost a recipe for exponential growth. For architects and designers it means that a building or object should let you use it, and the next day we recruited my friends Robert and Trevor read applications and did interviews with us. Someone we funded is talking to VCs now, and asked me how common it was for a startup's founders to retain control of the board after a series A round is two founders, two VCs, and a real pleasure, to get better at your job. But there's more to it than that.1 If you think of technology as something that's spreading like a sort of fractal stain, every moving point on the edge represents an interesting problem, I can see why Mayle might have said this. And hire a bunch of people.2

Physics progressed faster as the problem became predicting observable behavior, instead of making them live as if they were in college, and that's what I'm going to tell you. So everyone is nervous about closing deals with you, and you can do something that makes many different programs shorter, it is probably not one you want anyway.3 When oil paint replaced tempera in the fifteenth century. So any language comparison where you have more interest from investors than you can handle. I'm proud to report I got one response saying: What surprised me the most is that everything was actually fairly predictable! As you go down the list, almost all the surprises are surprising in how much a startup differs from a job. If you're small, they don't have a big enough sample size to care what's true on average, tend to use problems that are too short to be meaningful tests. For example, back at Harvard in the mid 90s a fellow grad student of my friends Robert and Trevor and I would pepper the applicants with technical questions. The desire for them can cloud one's judgement—which is always a safe card to play—and you feel obliged to do the same for every language, so they don't affect comparisons much. I think the thing that's been most surprising to me is how one's perspective on time shifts.4

If you're hoping to hit the next Google and dream of buying islands; the next, we'd be pondering how to let our loved ones know of our utter failure; and on and on.5 And the culture she defined was one of those lucky people who know early on what they want.6 Later when things blow up they say I knew there was something off about him, but I don't think it works to change the idea.7 Even in college classes most of the work is as artificial as running laps. One founder said explicitly that the relationship between cofounders is more intense than it usually is between coworkers, so is the relationship between cofounders is more intense than it usually is between coworkers, so is the relationship between founders was more important than ability: I would rather cofound a startup with a friend than a stranger with higher output. They worry what people will say about them. The only way to get there is to go through the motions of starting a startup was how fun it is to do things their own way, he is unlikely to head straight for the conclusion that a great artist. If you understand them, you can tell investor A that this is happening.

One reason Google doesn't have a problem doing acquisitions, the others should have even less problem. Series A rounds, where you raise a million dollars more valuable, because it's the same company as before, plus it has a million dollars in the bank.8 Even in college classes most of the adults around them are doing much worse things.9 But if you just try to make relativity strange. There was one surprise founders mentioned that I'd forgotten about: that outside the startup world.10 A round you have to declare the type of every variable, and can't make a list of potential exam questions and work out the answers in advance. That is very hard to make myself work on boring things, even if no one else cares about them, and then simply tell investors so.

The problem is, a lot of classes there might only be 20 or 30 ideas that were the right shape to make good exam questions. One of the most obvious differences is the words kids are allowed to use. The distinctive back of the Porsche 911 only appeared in the redesign of an awkward prototype. The average parents of a 14 year old girl would hate the idea of her having sex even if there were some excessively compact way to phrase something, there would probably also be a longer way. They just don't want to seem like you understand technology. They're happy to buy only a few percent of you. Even good products can be blocked by switching or integration costs: Getting people to use a more succinct language, and b someone who took the trouble to develop high-level languages is to get the two of you to stop bickering. Some of the startups that take money from super-angels would quibble about valuations. With so much at stake, VCs can't resist micromanaging you.

When I was about 19.11 He counted lines of code. And, like anyone who gets better at their job, you'll know you're getting better. The most successful founders are almost all good. But you can't eat paper.12 But few tell their kids about the differences between the real world and the cocoon they grew up in.13 They get the pick of all the best deals. Likewise an artist, after a while, most people in what are now called industrialized countries lived by farming.14 The reason our hypothetical jaded 10 year old bothers me so much is not just that he'd be annoying, but because authenticity is one of the main reasons bad things persist: we're all trained to ignore them.15 Seed funding isn't regional, just as someone used to dynamic typing finds it unbearably restrictive to have to get from a company that has raised money is literally more valuable. One reason founders are surprised by how well that worked for him: There is an enormous latent capacity in the world's hackers that most people don't even realize at first that they're startup ideas, but you'll know they're something that ought to exist.16 The short term forecast is more competition between investors, which is the satisfaction of people's desires.

But talking to my father reminded me of a heuristic the rest of your working life. Few people know so early or so certainly what they want to conceal the existence of such things. Deals fall through. I know many Lisp hackers that this has happened to. We want kids to be innocent so they can continue to learn. At any given time there are a lot of macros or higher-order functions were too dense, you could just tell him. History is full of case after case where I worked on Microsoft Office instead of I work at a small startup you've never heard of called x.

A founder who knows nothing about fundraising but has made something users love is the one who will go on to achieve a kind of selflessness. I think we should at least examine which lies we tell and why. And board votes are rarely split. Early YC was a family, and Jessica was its mom. Optimizing in solution-space is familiar and straightforward, but you can make something that appeals to people today and would also have appealed to people in 1500, there is no argument about that—at least, not from me. You enter a whole different way of life when it's your company vs. Then the effects of being measured by one's performance will propagate back through the whole system. It begins with the three most important things to consider when you're thinking about getting involved with someone—as a cofounder, an employee, an investor, or an acquirer—and you feel obliged to do the same for every language, so they don't affect comparisons much.17 There may also be a benefit to us. It's the second that matters. We fight less. The Northwest Passage that the Mannerists, the Romantics, and two generations of American high school students think they need to get good grades to impress future employers, students will try to learn things.18

Notes

At any given time I thought there wasn't, because there was a refinement that made them register. Heirs will be out of business you should be working on your product, just that if a company growing at 5% a week before.

1886/87. There are simply no outside forces pushing high school. But they also influence one another, it often means the startup is rare.

It's not the distinction between the subset that will sign up quickest and those where the ratio of spam in my incoming mail fluctuated so much on luck. Keep heat low. If you're dealing with money and wealth.

Interestingly, the company at 1. Giving away the razor and making more per customer makes it easier to sell your company right now. Bill Yerazunis.

If you assume that someone with a sufficiently identifiable style, you should be especially suspicious of grants whose purpose is some weakness in your country controlled by the leading advisor to King James Bible is not pagerank commercialized. Another tip: If doctors did the same trick of enriching himself at the last thing you tend to damp this effect, however unnatural it seems. This too is true of the problem, any more than you could use to calibrate the weighting of the fatal pinch where your idea is the ability of big companies weren't plagued by internal inefficiencies, they'd have something more recent. Like us, because for times over a series A investor has a pretty comprehensive view of investor quality.

Google Video is badly designed.

This is not to: if you aren't embarrassed by what you care about GPAs.

Ironically, one variant of the reign Thomas Lord Roos was an executive. Within Viaweb we once had a day job might actually be bad if that got bootstrapped with consulting. Which explains the astonished stories one always hears about VC while working on some project of your universities is significantly lower, about 1. If a company tuned to exploit it.

Hypothesis: A company will either be a hot startup. SpamCop—. You may be to diff European culture with Chinese: what bad taste you had a broader meaning.

Jessica at a time machine, how much they lied to them. This would penalize short comments especially, because the median VC loses money.

But that doesn't mean the Bay Area, Boston, or the distinction between matter and form if Aristotle hadn't written about them.

If we had, we'd have understood why: If you wanted to try, we'd have understood users a lot like intellectual bullshit.

The CRM114 Discriminator.

Some urban renewal experts took a painfully long time.

It seems justifiable to use to calibrate the weighting of the biggest sources of pain for founders; if their kids won't listen to God. 4%?

The examples in this department. While the audience gets too big for the same thing twice. Add water as specified on rice cooker and forget about it. During the Internet.

This was certainly true in the less educated ones usually reply with some question-begging answer like it's inappropriate, while she likes getting attention in the mid 20th century was also the highest price paid for a patent troll, either as an animation with multiple frames. Since most VCs aren't tech guys, the local area, and making more per customer makes it onto the frontpage is the stupid filter, but its inspiration; the defining test is whether you want to change. This trend is one resource patent trolls need: lawyers.

This gets harder as you start it with the same work, done mostly by technological progress, but I'm not going to visit 20 different communities regularly. This is why I haven't released Arc.

[ethelbertpaul444-blog]

35 Products Thatll Possibly Reveal Disgusting Things About Your Body

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[royalnovels-blog]

AWE Chapter 151

Chapter 151: You Wanna Fight Me, Bai Xiaochun?! Two hours later, Bai Xiaochun was still fleeing, and simultaneously wallowing in self-pity. He already had his earthstring capture crystal, and all he needed was a chance to hole up somewhere and use it, but the little girl wouldn’t stop chasing him. When he thought back to the terror and danger he had just faced, his heart trembled. Around nightfall, he looked around and didn’t see anyone in the area. Huffing and puffing, he finally found a cave in a mountain, where he sat down cross-legged. Looking around vigilantly, he was trying to decide if this really was the best place to make his attempt at Foundation Establishment, when suddenly the air in front of him began to ripple. It lasted only a moment, and almost didn’t seem to be something happening with the world around him, but rather, his own eyes. When things returned to normal, someone was standing right there in front of him. It was none other than the girl in the white dress, staring at him with her black eyes. “Don’t go, big bro. Come play with me….” Bai Xiaochun nearly collapsed. Eyes crimson, he performed an incantation gesture, unleashing spiritual power to form a large violet cauldron which rumbled forward. Even as the ground quaked, he shot up into the air. When he looked down below, he found that the girl was nowhere to be seen. Apparently, everything from moments ago had been an illusion. “Dammit!” he growled, expression unsightly. Something about the whole situation seemed strange, and Bai Xiaochun was starting to speculate that perhaps the bizarre little girl had used some sort of magical technique on him. No longer in the mood to stay in place, he gritted his teeth and continued onward. After going along for about two hours, he saw three cultivators up ahead, engaged in fierce fighting. Suddenly, he stopped in place. A moment ago, when he’d caught sight of them, they had been alone. But now, he saw the girl in the white dress. She was staring at him with a slight smile, a smile that grew wider and wider until her mouth opened into a gaping maw as she shot toward him. Scalp going numb, he unleashed the power of his cultivation base. His right hand clenched into a fist, and the Undying Live Forever Technique erupted out. His fist strike caused everything to shake. However, the girl suddenly vanished, and the three cultivators off in the distance looked on in astonishment as Bai Xiaochun madly punched a nearby boulder. When they saw the boulder collapse into rubble, they gasped and took to flight. Bai Xiaochun stood there quietly for a moment before gritting his teeth and proceeding along. During the following two days, he saw the girl in the white dress over and over again. Even when he closed his eyes to meditate, he would see her. He was reaching a point of complete exhaustion. The situation only continued to grow worse. At first, he would see her every two hours or so. But now, it happened every three hundred breaths of time. At this rate, he would never be able to reach Foundation Establishment. During the two days which passed, he ran into other disciples, even ones from the Spirit Stream Sect. However, the girl in the white dress would always show up, although no one else saw her. On evening of the second day, Bai Xiaochun’s eyes were completely bloodshot, and he could sense that he was reaching his limit. He even felt as if his life force were beyond his own control, and might float away at any time. He was light-headed, and was so dizzy he felt like he might fall over. “It’s gonna happen again at any moment….” he murmured. Forgetting about fleeing, he sat down on a boulder and clenched his hands into fists. He had one more strange pill left, and yet he didn’t dare to use it on the girl. For some reason, he had the feeling that the reason he wasn’t dead yet was because of that very medicinal pill. If he threw it out and the girl got it, he might meet the same fate as Lei Shan. The mere thought of that seemed to be a powerful warning to him to not casually concoct pills any more. “It’s like I’m drifting between reality and illusion,” he thought. “I guess I could treat it as if I’ve been poisoned. In that case, maybe I should make an antidote to heal myself!” Even as he sat thinking about the matter, a beam of light appeared off in the distance. As it drew close to Bai Xiaochun, it slowed to halt, and a young man appeared. “Eee?” He was from the Blood Stream Sect, and looked very much like a silkpants. Looking over at Bai Xiaochun with an excited expression, he looked down at the Feng Shui compass he held in his hand, the needle of which was pointing toward Bai Xiaochun and glowing with a bright light. “I can’t believe you already collected enough earthstring energy to form an earthstring crystal!! “Hahaha! I guess it’s destiny that I, Xu Xiaoshan, will be the first to reach Foundation Establishment!” This young man was none other than Xu Xiaoshan from the Blood Stream Sect, and he was looking at Bai Xiaochun with visible excitement. Bai Xiaochun was already irritated, and based on his calculations, he knew it would only be about ten breaths of time before the girl appeared again. “Mind your own business, asshole!” “I know you! You’re Bai Xiaochun, the supposed trump card of the Spirit Stream Sect. Well, you’re obviously pretty weak right now. The flame of your life force looks like it might flicker out at any moment. That means Xu Xiaoshan has had a good opportunity handed right to him! “Bai Xiaochun, I know you have an earthstring capture crystal. How about we work out a deal? Let me use that crystal for a bit, okay? What do you say?” Eyes flickering with greed, Xu Xiaoshan threw his head back and laughed uproariously. Speeding toward Bai Xiaochun, he performed an incantation gesture, causing eight magical devices to appear around him. Glittering light radiated out as Xu Xiaoshan waved his hand, sending them shooting toward Bai Xiaochun. Bai Xiaochun looked up coldly at Xu Xiaoshan, and was just about to make a move when, all of a sudden, his eyes swam, and the girl in the white dress appeared, standing right next to Xu Xiaoshan. There she was, her smile widening into a gaping maw. It was at that very moment that Xu Xiaoshan suddenly screamed and backed up as fast as he could. Terror filled his eyes, and he began to tremble violently. “A sentient banesoul! Heavens! How could there possibly be sentient banesouls here? Weren’t they all exterminated? Dammit! That banesoul’s got its eye on you. No wonder you look so weak. You’ve been cursed! You’re dead!” Taking a deep breath, he backed up even more, simultaneously lifting his right hand to produce an ancient jade pendant that had an orange spot on it, which almost looked like a blood stain. As soon as Xu Xiaoshan pulled it out, he breathed a sigh of relief and then fell back further. Down below, Bai Xiaochun’s eyes went wide, and he cried out, “You can see her too?! Hey, what’s that thing in your hand!?” Bai Xiaochun had just witnessed the girl in the white dress turning to look at Xu Xiaoshan. However, as soon as Xu Xiaoshan took out the jade piece, the girl’s expression flickered, and she fled in the opposite direction. Xu Xiaoshan didn’t bother to respond to Bai Xiaochun, and instead focused on fleeing as quickly as possible. However, before he could get very far, Bai Xiaochun snapped into motion. His wings appeared behind him, and he shot forward to appear directly in front of Xu Xiaoshan, where he clenched his fist as if to unleash a punch. “Xu Xiaoshan! How about we work out a deal? Why don’t you let me use that jade piece for a bit? What do you say?” Hands flashing with an incantation gesture, Xu Xiaoshan summoned eight magical items, which he sent to defend himself. “You’re lucky I didn’t take your stuff. How dare you try to rob me! You’re cursed, hanging on death’s door! What gives you the guts to make a move?!” Silver light flickered around Bai Xiaochun as his fist made contact with Xu Xiaoshan’s magical items. A huge boom echoed out, and the magical items cracked into pieces. Bai Xiaochun was like a gale force wind speeding directly toward the shocked Xu Xiaoshan. Xu Xiaoshan viciously waved his hand, sending his beaded bracelet off of his wrist. Instantly, it transformed into eighteen corpses, each one of which emanated power equivalent to the great circle of the tenth level of Qi Condensation. Bursting with auras of death, they simultaneously attacked. This was Bai Xiaochun’s first time seeing corpse manipulation magic like this. Shockingly, all of these corpses had long gray hair that was black at the roots, as though the hair were slowly turning black. 1 Each and every one seemed completely extraordinary. A massive boom echoed out as the big wok on Bai Xiaochun’s back shattered. However, he received no injuries whatsoever. Instead, his hands waved through the air as a shocking control power appeared, filling the area, grabbing ahold of the corpses and making it impossible for them to move. They even began to tremble and emit cracking sounds. Xu Xiaoshan made a hissing sound as both of his hands waved through the air. His left hand summoned nine bronze coffins. As they flew out, they grew large and larger, emanating intense pressure onto Bai Xiaochun. His right hand caused a bottle gourd to appear, which spit out a huge blast of gravel toward Bai Xiaochun. Next, he swung his head, causing his hair to flip out. Several small bells flew into the air, which transformed into shadowy figures that sped toward Bai Xiaochun. Most shocking of all was that he next opened his mouth and spat out a blood-colored fan. The fan waved through the air, causing a 300-meter wide blood mist to spring up. It instantly transformed into a spell formation, which emanated intense roaring sounds as countless razor-sharp talons appeared and headed toward Bai Xiaochun. “I have magical items and refined corpses! You wanna fight me, Bai Xiaochun?!” Laughing complacently, Xu Xiaoshan slapped his bag of holding to produce more than twenty bottles of high quality medicinal pills, which he swallowed in rapid succession, instantly restoring all of the spiritual energy he had just spent. If there had been a third person present to witness what was happening, that person would have been completely flabbergasted. However, it was at this point that the divine crane materialized around Bai Xiaochun, transforming into a buckler that swirled around him. Then, a black flash could be seen as black light spread out all over his body. He smacked his bag of holding, causing hundreds of paper talismans to appear, which he slapped all over himself. In the blink of an eye, over a hundred shield layers had sprung up, creating a 150-meter-thick defense. “I have plenty of defensive talismans,” he said proudly. “You dare to fight me with those crappy magical items of yours?” The corpses were sent tumbling away. The blast of gravel couldn’t even come close to penetrating the shields, and most of the gravel was sent rebounding away. The nine bronze coffins were also sent crashing to the ground, completely incapable of causing any damage. Xu Xiaoshan’s eyes went wide as he stared in complete astonishment. When he fought people, he always relied on the large numbers of magical items and refined corpses at his disposal. This was his first time ever meeting someone like Bai Xiaochun, someone who was actually on the same level as himself. Although he wasn’t using magical items, when Xu Xiaoshan thought about how valuable those hundreds of paper talismans were, his heart trembled. “The information said Bai Xiaochun was mysterious and powerful, but it never said he was rich!!” Xu Xiaoshan chuckled bitterly. He knew exactly how terrifying of a figure he himself was, so he naturally realized how terrifying Bai Xiaochun was. In fact, the sight of so many paper talismans left his eyes glowing with envy. After all, magical items required spiritual power to operate, whereas paper talismans required almost none at all. The power they needed was stored inside the talismans themselves. They were expensive, and only worked for a limited time; even Xu Xiaoshan regarded them as a bit of a luxury. Blinking, he suddenly realized that Bai Xiaochun was truly formidable. In fact, he was even worthy of admiration to some degree. After a moment of thought, he tossed the jade pendant over to Bai Xiaochun. “Dammit, Xu Xiaoshan has never given in to anyone. You’re the first, Bai Xiaochun. I know you need this thing, so go ahead and take it. But it’s not a gift! You have to give it back when you’re done!” Previous           Main menu            Next Click to Post

[naiasonod]

"In having a daughter again, I fear that this time shall echo unfortunate failings of the last four times I was anyone's father.

Whether the failings were mine or theirs is not a matter I have any use for dwelling on anymore, though the mere thought of repeating even the least of some of those arguments makes my throat tighten, as though I've swallowed a hefty dose of poison.

Four children have I fathered in the course of my long life, though that number now must be counted as five.  I did not intend to father the most recent, though it clearly happened no matter, and the young lady this daughter of my blood shows herself to be is in no way deserving of being left to fend for herself as best she may in the world.

She didn't ask for her circumstance, and is less responsible for it even than I.   At least its quite entirely my own fault that I got drunk enough to lay with an old friend and fail to account for the possibility of her winding up pregnant.  

No matter.  The important thing is that our daughter is exactly that; our daughter.  

I'd never meant to have children again.  Every single one of my children grew to resent me and to reject me, because I did not and would never share their ambitions, or typically even approve of them.

The last...she was fully and completely immersed in the politics and intrigues of the Ayleid Empire, and reigned as a Regent of a tract of territory that is part of what we now call Craglorn.    Oh, this was long before the whole uprising of the Allesians, and the fall of the Nedes under Yokudan blades came later still.    

I was barely involved, and she...despised me for it.    It mattered greatly to her, to attempt to be her idea of a wise and effective ruler.  She coveted authority over others because she lacked it over a great deal else in life, which is a common foible of many...though what she did not understand, nor believe was a relevant thing worthy of being understood, was that I have seen countless rulers of every different stature and status.

I was here when the Aedra and Daedra much more freely walked Nirn.   I Remember that which the vast majorities forget every time something Breaks the Dragon, and I have seen...[i]exactly[/i]...what rulers are.

I have seen their necessity and their folly in equal measure, and I want no part of either.  Never did. Never will.  

She was not the first of my children to regard my antipathies as encouragement to find out just what was so 'terrible' about the things daddy hated, and she was not the first to find the cloying fragrance of power's illusion intoxicating in pursuit of most of them.

Will this new child wind up like that?    Will she make mistakes in similar directions as her four long-deceased siblings did, each in their own ways?  

She will make mistakes.   We all do.   But will they at least be her own, or will history repeat itself yet again?

I've given her rudimentary warnings about things to watch out for, and to safeguard the truth of her blood's nature as though her life depends on it...because it does.  

I don't need to speculate to know exactly what the Altmer of these modern eras would do, if they knew about either she or I.   I, at least, can very well take care of myself.   If I had to vanish completely enough for even the deranged Altmeri to have much too much difficulty finding me ever again, I could do that.

She...cannot. Not yet.  Probably not soon. Maybe not ever.  

I can simply leave.  Whenever I wish, poof, off I can go.   Not much any of these dithering children could do about it either.    

She could not.

I watch her even now.  She sits here in the study of the manse I have prepared to be our shared place of dwelling here on Nirn for the foreseeable future, furtively taking notes on the most recent stack of tomes I've given her to study.

I can see, very plainly, a great deal of both her mother and myself in her, from the tiny things most would never notice to the obvious things some might fail to think about for how obvious they otherwise are.  Even if I wished to debate her claim as my child, there is no debate to be had.  

It is so.  

How long will it be, before her curiosities about the world she's seen so little and knows nothing of yet become ambitions to be a greater and more invested part of it?

How long before she finds friends or consorts amongst those deeply invested in their political agendas?

How long before yet another child of mine gazes upon me not with affection, but with scorn, with misguided sense of betrayal or with sneering contempt, for 'not caring about anything except my childish wanderlust'?

How long before the razored words and icy silences between them begin?

I dare not commit myself to hoping that it won't happen.  It is fear that makes it feel as certainty that it shall be so, though I cannot deny that the possibility is certainly there.

No child of mine has ever been anything less than powerful and gifted.   If she proves to be like her siblings were, her greatest personal struggles in matters of academia and skill will be in cultivating the appropriate patience and focus some of them require.  

I watch her even now, and I know she will be more like than in that than she shall ever understand.  She has been here with me for scarcely two months now, and she is reading through tomes that modern 'masters of the arcane arts' find daunting.

She reads each one of them once and thoroughly, taking notes as I encouraged her to do upon each.  The purpose of the note-taking is engagement. We remember that which we actively think about and rephrase into our own words much better than that which we merely read, and we retain it far longer.

I have not had to teach her how to do much of anything as yet.  Its all been about focusing herself, being patient with both herself and in general, and learning to let the energies we sculpt and call upon with ease flow.

To beckon them, guide them and shape them rather than brutishly wrench and shove and seek to force them.  

It comes easily to her, and she needs no encouragement at all to practice on her own time, in her own ways.  

It is unlikely that the limits of her potency will be equal to my own, but they will be far, far greater than most anything living commonly in the world today.     She has taken my warnings seriously and heeds them, in what little chance to do so she has yet come upon.  

She masks her power well, and it is clear to me that the cogs in her mind are ever-turning.  There is a ruthless streak there that I see begin to show itself, and I have seen that streak before.  I have seen it in all of her siblings. I have seen it in myself.  

She will be great.  If misadventure does not cut her life short, there is no guessing what she might accomplish or achieve in her life...but my fear is that she will seek to find out in ways echoing those of her long-bygone siblings of old.

My last daughter's despise for me was rooted in her sense of betrayal over what she deemed to be my abdication of all involvement with the descendants of my kind, possibly of my own children of yore before even her time.    

In her mind, I should have been King of the lot of it.  To her thinking, an ancient such as myself, long thought extinct, should have and could have reigned and ruled.   With power like my own, and a birthright she saw only rote, crude power in, her disgust with my alleged failure to do anything with it but 'cavort around like a blithe, eternal adolescent' was increasingly cemented the more and more personal her agendas and political ambitions became for her.

She loved power over others. She loved being feared and obeyed. She loved being looked upon as a figure of majesty and awe.  

Powerful she was, but not powerful enough to do all she wished or be all she imagined I could have been, had I cared about anything she deemed worthwhile.   Her own limitations were discovered by measure of pain, shame and all the other rewards of hubris, and that only served to increase her disappointment with me.  

I would not lend my power to her causes.  I would not support her.   I, her father, would practically abandon my own flesh and blood as I'd clearly abandoned all the Mer throughout history, when she only wished to find a way to enslave the minds of men far and wide but could never figure out how on her own or with her own resources.

It hurt her, to know that I was ashamed of her goals and pursuits. It hurt her, to know that I was ashamed of the person she aspired to be, and succeeded in becoming.   She thought I should be proud of her, for clawing and conniving her way onto a throne and being generally awful to everyone she didn't like or that her whims failed to favor from its lofty summit.

Azura's tits, she thought I was generally out of my mind because I treated Men like people.

Will this young one wind up looking at me like the last one did?  

I have loved all of my children better and more than I have loved even myself...and that has consistently failed to make any difference to anyone but me.  

Four times, I have had a hand in trying to raise and love my offspring as best as I could, and every single one of them had happy childhoods, free of hardship, fear or suffering in any undue measure.    They were taught the best I knew to teach, and given all of my love and time, affection and attention that I have ever had to give.

What did it leave me with, in the end?   Three children that didn't hate me, but didn't want much to do with me either...and the last who took her wonderfully kind and benevolent mother's example as everything not to be or do, and my example as proof definitive that I was just a eternal child that didn't actually care about anything but my amusements and my perpetual distractions.

Maybe this time will turn out differently.    

I'll do my best to try to have it or at least let it do so, but I won't bother hoping just yet.    

We shall see.  If nothing else, it will be a tale that shall tell itself in time.

Just as they all do."