#boss goon logs

[akaigoonfacilityslogs]

[ #001 - Akai ]

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Entity name;

- Akai

Classification;

- Neutral

- Boss Akaigoon

Appearance Description;

Large red fluffy bipedal dragon with four sets of arms and four eyes. Ears simillar to that of a goat's and ram-like horns.

Behavior;

Mostly keeps to himself in the crystal cave section of the facility, usually calm and just watches unless attacked by any means. Nice to hang out with. Though he seems cautious of people wearing our facility's protection gear. Especially other Akaigoons that wear them. Not the most social creature either.

Extra;

Akai is the first Akaigoon, as to why he is their species' namesake. The rest share genetic material with him. He appears to be able to comprehend and speak some English though perhaps not enough just yet.

We use the DNA of Akai to aid in the creation of other Akaigoons, however, perhaps there will be a day we don't need to extract said DNA.

Possibly only one of the Boss Akaigoons without Minions.

[weebsinstash]

I didn't think about this before until I saw some tasty poly 3v art on r34 but like: Valentino and/or Vox forcing a tech/TV/computer Reader to play porn on their screen face for them to not only watch the porn but also get off on humiliating/objectifying you

Like could you even imagine you're just this. Little fucking TV DWEEB and Valentino hires you as some kinda manual labor goon after literally scouting you off the street because you kinda remind him of Vox and, maybe he'd fuck you if you got fixed up a little more, and one day Val's phone is broken and he makes you use your face/body to help him do a thing, check his email or something, and Valentino just pauses, quirks his mouth, "can you get porn on this thing?"

and because not only is he Your Fucking Boss but also an Overlord and Scary As Fuck, you cave; he only has to get a little growly and impatient and you fold like a lawn chair, pulling up whatever he told you to look up. In a future event where you were to "misbehave" and draw his ire, I can see him forcing you to play something of Angel to psychologically fuck with both of you if the two of you were friends

First, it starts with just Valentino, but then he invites Vox to come and watch you, and the tech CEO is immediately interested in your physical body/appearance but most importantly curious about your hardware/software capabilities (and maybe feeling vaguely threatened/insecure Val is going to replace him with you)

Have I ever mentioned "computer/smartphone/laptop Reader who can be used as a computer by other people and you have an actual track pad your 'user' has to touch to click and move the mouse" before, because I keep thinking of a Reader who either has a track pad on the palm of one of your hands, or, it being a specific square/rectangular shape on your upper chest/clavicle sort of area (which you would be extremely embarrassed if someone was using your trackpad by force because you have to wear lower cut shirts or they're all but holding your hand and tickling your palm)

Velvette who doesn't want to fuck you or anything but if you're going to constantly be in her house you might as well look presentable and you quickly become her new favorite dress-up dolly/tablet. fml you're basically gonna be like her equivalent of a customized phone case except she's styling you and maybe even changing any coats of paint you have to different glosses or textures if need be. She's using you like a PDA, logging notes she needs to remember, putting appointments in a personal digital calendar, making you take photos of her and her models and send them to her

Yandere Vees who customize your tech body by force??? 😳 Vox who thinks you're a cool cute little computer but you're literally like an OG big ass dial up computer and he just, forces you under the knife or whatever and you wake up with completely modern parts? Vox who forces you to be the hardware he PLAYS VIDEO GAMES ON? Vox who forces you to watch his favorite shows with him by streaming them through your body, maybe even installing a projector on you (or you already have one) so you sit beside him while streaming? The Vees forcing you to be like an assistant that follows them around taking pictures of them and they decide your photos are too shitty and pixelated and they forcibly update your camera and video capabilities? The Vees who force you to change not only because they think you would look better but because they are literally actually LITERALLY USING YOU to perform different tasks? Literally using you like a toy and object?

You're internally hoping maybe one day you can rise up and escape (potentially to a certain audiophile demon who actually likes your original, almost vintage sound quality once he helps revert you back, perhaps?) and meanwhile Valentino is asking Vox if they can start installing some sort of Go Go Gadget Gorilla Grip Pussy equipment inside of you or "did you figure out if they can vibrate anything yet--"

[survivalist-anon]

Log 2: Living Under a Rock

It's been a week since my drop-off at the hospital....no surprise I've been having trouble sleeping, I got some work leave from my boss at the nature reserve.....god damn I'm fucking tired.

Local folks both new to the town and old friends have been pandering for questions.

Some of the local middle schoolers kept fallowing me to my work place asking me about the metal guy. I simply told them I shot him in the eye, than he exploded.....I wasn't expecting those annoying brats to tell other kids about it. Obviously the local pastor (Mark) has been sending his goons to come to my cabin to convince me to come to church for the sake of saving my soul and all that "lovely" jazz. I told them I literally may have met the devil, shot him in the eye, exploded , and now he's dead and thus to leave me alone.

Some folks are a little more respectful and just ask me about more personal things. Got recommended a therapist who just moved to town named Miss Jenny Oakley, nice lady, smiles all the time and has an impressive 3 PhDs in psychology and mental health medication. She's been helping me get through the whole thing and believes I'll be able to make a speedy recovery. She trusts my resolve and that's good in my book.

....now "Newly appointed Deputy" Jeff (my ex-boyfriend) apparently thinks he can just give me the presidential treatment. He keeps following my car EVERYWHERE. I feel like nuisance now this has happened, people keep staring at me when Jeff just follows me at this point. You'd think after our falling out he'd have the self respect to be a little less...creepy about it. He's stopped by my cabin to keep checking up on me....I wonder if he thinks it's going to be like in the movies where estranged lovers get back together if something happens....jokes on him... I do not need a guy who has tried to convince me to move to Ohio and insult my family's cultural background to boot. Asshole.

Anyways, I've been hanging out at this new coffee shop that's just opened up...it's cozy, sells actual homemade pastries and the coffee is pretty good. Finally, a nice third place. I've noticed more people around my age go there too .... however I've noticed one group constantly eyeing me from across the shop every time I go...they call themselves the "Marine Spotters"...I have no fucking idea what that intels, one of them came up to my table, had the audacity to sit down in front of me like he knew me.....

"So..........you saw one?", the unshaven neck beard asked.

".......you know you could have asked to sit down and I would have said yes but fine go off Gabe Newell.", I'm not usually this hostile but things have gotten tense for while....I wouldn't blame anyone for being upset at me for it either.

"heheh very funny, anyway, my name is Benedict Grabowski. I'm the local expert in these "big metal men "....I see based on your description you've seen a "Black Legion" marine. A level 3 on the danger scale and are quite rare in these parts.", he adjusts his glasses. "The fact you even survived a harrowing encounter with one is without a doubt a life achievement and a free ticket admission to our organization!", handing me a business card with some edgy cartoon spaceman, it had his phone number, email address and an actual address...it was the abandoned mineral mine not too far from the animal reserve I work at....

"I hope your membership will prove to be of great use to us.", concluding with a smug look on his jolly face.

I sat there ready to throw this guy from window I was seated next to....but I'm certain the shop owners wouldn't be too pleased.

".....why the .org?"

He acted confused, "I beg your pardon?".

"...the .org....on your email address....you don't work for the Tillamook station do you? I told them I don't know shit.", took a frustrated sip of my coffee.

He laid back, "well...I...what one would call....a "white hat hacker"....my services in online server hacking, government surveillance and hehe...not to brag...a national code cracking champion of the Tokyo Code Breaker competition. I actually am...not a huge fan of our corporate federal overlords and I only desire for their inevitable downfall through me tanking their stocks."...

I literally was sitting across to a felon....

"so ..with your epic survival skills, my tech mastery and my collaborators", he points to his original table of collected individuals; a heavyset goth girl, the kid of one of the local beef farmers and one creepy guy I remember being the weird kid in highschool.

"Hi Steven.", I wave to him.

"Hi Lorey!", he waves and gives his creepy grin that in through literally means nothing to me. He does it for a cheap bit that I'm certain Jeff already knows and is dieing to catch him for something.

By this point Benedict was actually shocked I knew Steven. "What?! I thought you just moved here!"

I chuckled a little, "I use to live here, I know the area rather well but it's changed a bit since I was last here back in 2003. Also....what the shit is this all about?". I point to the business card.

His shocked expression transforms back into that stupid 'big shot cool guy' look. "Well, we spot those big metal men. Turns out....these anomalous entities are actually appearing throughout the whole planet. All of them of variety and....motives....". He looks around, takes out a folder of the ever lovable 'blurry photographic evidence' one would expect looking for cryptids. "Behold. Humanoids who walk amongst us!".

Im staring at the photos, one struck me to my core ....the big black and bronze one I saw being blown to chunks...the one that killed Grandpa.

"ah...I see...so it was that one.", leaning towards me closer....I can smell the fucking butter from his croissant he ate at his table. "If you need us...call us....", he decided to leave a second card....ok....."anyway, surprised?"

I was a lot more than surprised....I must have been living under a rock...."yeah....I am."

After that I decided to go home. On the ride back, I couldn't help but wonder if Benedict was telling the truth... about them being everywhere...that's a scary thought in all honesty.

I get out my car and took one long glance at my Grandpa's cabin. His only inheritance to my mom. When I said the funeral was a mess, it was an absolute garbage fire because on the same day we had his will reading. His most valuable possession in his will was this cabin, and boy was my aunt pissed she didn't get the property. At least Mom had the last laugh, anyway....as I was remembering that day....I noticed something that sent shivers up and down my spine.

A blood trail....it looked like it came from the forest behind the property, up the steps and on to my doormat. I get out of the car, cautiously, for I all know whom ever left this bloody mess is close by.

It was a huge leather sack, sealed tight with...a red wax in the opening. It was leaking a lot, I was hesitant to open it, but the blood smelt familiar. "....it can't be....", I tore off the hard wax, the gamey stink of deer was permeating throughout the porch. Opening the sack, I saw what could be weeks worth of meat. I was stunned! All nicely cut and cleaned ...I tried lifting the sack without getting some blood on me...failed...and brought it to the cellar freezer. As I placed the meat in the freezer, I saw there was a note on the bag I hadn't noticed....it was a handwritten note for certain....but I had no idea what was written on it. Again, Nordic ruins were present...but it was mixed with another language...I took medieval history a short while back and had the privilege of almost learning how to read medieval texts....it was close to it...and yet... completely unreadable for me.

I set the note on a table and save it for later.

Everything has been so strange lately.

The hours pass, and I finally decided to do some digging....this has to be some...real life ARG or something....it's either a dedicated group of cosplayers....or... something is really out there...it's so uncanny....

End of log 2

@kit-williams

[lastlycoris]

So my boss in the prison medical wing is Dr. Nora Fries (pronounced freeze). She's an MD-Ph.D, both a military doctor and a biomedical engineer specializing in prosthetics. It's said that all warsuits that the rich people keep for "personal protection" are derivatives from her initial work. Her criminal moniker is Dr. Fries, which kinda just shows how infamous she is - you know - that they just outright use her name.

As for why she's here, that goes back two decades ago according to personnel here. Mostly to warn me to not mention the former company GothCorp she and her husband (important later) worked at. Because this lady has two obsessions: to restore her husband from a cryogenic freeze without killing him and getting revenge on the company that caused it.

I don't really know about their personal lives. Just two strange people meeting in college and fell in love. Eventually their paths had it so they ended up working in the same company.

Her husband was a specialist in cryogenics, Ph.Ds in physics, engineering and chemistry. And the hopes were to make a chemical gel that could easily preserve pharmaceuticals and food at the end of a cold chain.

And then an accident occurred when the company decided to scuttle the project for insurance purposes and blame Mr. Fries. Of course, this information came out much later.

In any case, they still call those series of small inhabitable inter-connected islands, where the Factory was housed, the Ice Rink. Because every so often, a vat of what's being called Friesium would rupture and instantly send everything in the area to below liquid nitrogen temperatures, which is not survivable.

Logs showed that one of the researchers noticed something was wrong with the chemical vats and sounded the alarm for evacuation to get everyone else out. The six that remained, including Dr. Fries's husband, were required to prevent the entire factory from freezing everyone instantly.

People do not survive getting frozen solid without help - if the initial freeze doesn't kill them, the defrosting will. However, logs apparently showed that Fries's husband had injected everyone with an experimental cryoprotectant fifteen minutes prior to the cryoexplosion - preventing the nastier effects like water expanding to ice to rupture cells - and a single outgoing phone call to his wife.

The rest is history. Dr. Fries makes the first prototype warsuit in three days, a suit impervious to cold and sudden pressure changes from extreme temp drops, and marches in to retrieve the lab members. Ferris Boyle, the president, tries to pull the plug stating it's futile and expensive to continue keeping the six on ice, and Dr. Fries offers the cryosuit design to make payment. He accepts and then goes back on their deal stating it never happened - and then claims it was an attempt at a bribe to prevent him from revealing that it was her husband and lab team that sabotaged the factory.

And I guess that was the moment where she descended into supervillainry.

It was quiet for a week as the Board argued about the PR nightmare pulling the plug would do, even if they claimed these were the ones that caused it.

Then someone armed to the teeth in a shiny warsuit decided to break into GothCorp with a bunch of goons to retrieve the pods - who were funded by the money she got for selling a simplified warsuit design to different criminal factions and companies . And then she declared war on GothCorp.

Now this is twenty years ago before this era of superheroes and supervillains. That warsuit was the pinnacle of high tech at its time, and it singlehandedly brought the military to the city after a month. Why they didn't come sooner was because she was very selective with the damage. Only to GothCorp assets and zero casualties beyond the broken bones people dumb enough to physically get in a walking tank's way.

She singlehandedly brought the company to near bankruptcy. And the military only helped because the company took up a military contact on a very big deficit. Otherwise, they would've just treated it as a civil matter for the police to deal with. After all, no dead people, damage only to private property, and it wouldn't look nice if the military got their asses handed over to them too.

It wasn't even the military that got her in the end. It was some fresh detective named Gordon, now Commisioner, who figured out where she's hiding because running cryogenic preservation for six people took a stable large supply of electricity.

A deal was made between the two. Nora voluntarily surrendered after five days. Gordon discovered the system logs from the factory, showing the company's sabotage of its own factory. Wayne Industries makes a generous offer to preserving and eventually finding a cure for the frozen researchers.

And she's been researching cryogenics in prison every day ever since. The only prisoner. allowed her own laptop and allowed outside to visit her husband every month as part of the unusual deal made with the police.

Except now that Wayne Industries took a severe blow after their Tower collapsed and President kidnapped and probably dead, the frozen six apparently moved to some no-name company, and the decaying law and order of our city, it seems she's taking matters into her own hands because it looks like no one can keep the people she wants to protect safe. At least that's what it seems like.

Makes me wonder, if their places were switched, whether her husband would show the same single-minded devotion to her.

I certainly hope so.

[itsbenedict]

Two-Faced Jewel: Thunderbrush 22

Two? You Are Like A Little Baby. Watch This:

A conwoman disguised as a noble and the delegation of university students studying her have arrived in the jungle city of Thunderbrush, ruled by ancient dryads and organized crime. Will they manage to stay uninvolved in shady conspiracies? (No.)

Story so far | Session log index | Previous session

Last time, the party finally ran into the Ashtray butts they came to investigate- and it seemed like they were there to scrape a bunch of death essence/thanergy/black mana out of some big room-sized magic spell array, and box it up for unknown purposes. After scaring the everloving piss out of some of their noncombatants, the party moved to go take on Zeego, the group's terrifying tiger-man muscle. So it's time for an epic boss fight, right?

Well. Maybe.

After Ember and Scrap-King flee topside, the party sees Miriko and Curly Fry standing at the entrance to the west hallway. Miriko's holding up a shimmering barrier to protect the two of them and Oyobi, who's firing arrows down a dark hallway at an ongoing melee between Orluthe (as the ALPHA DOOMHOUND) and Zeego.

The party prepares to deal with this. Orluthe fails a strength check to throw Zeego off, Oliver prints a pneuma-sword, Miriko takes down the barrier, Looseleaf readies to fire off Soul Rend, and--

--Saelhen rolls double twenties on an attempt to throw a knife and stun Zeego. Yes, on the heels of Oliver rolling double twenties to investigate the spirit array powering the death field. What Oliver got out of that was a new skill for scribing spirit magic arrays. What Saelhen gets out of this is...

Saelhen didn't know she knew how to do that. Something in her just knew, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Ha ha! That's weird! Weird that she knows how to do that somehow!

Everyone is pretty alarmed by Saelhen paralyzing this guy with a single nerve strike- particularly Miriko, who begins to suspect that Saelhen is secretly affiliated with the Thorns, Thunderbrush's premier shadowy cabal of assassins.

Looseleaf runs to treat Orluthe, who was down to 6HP before the rest of the party even got to the fight. Zeego was going to be a pretty fucking scary boss fight! But now he's completely immobilized.

The party moves to cleanup step, and starts healing and restraining the fatally injured foes- plus interrogating them a bit. Zeego had a couple halfling goons with him (the players never asked, but the goons did have names- Hearth, Mason, and Roland deWisp), who mostly died. The party's able to heal them just fine, though- thanks to the field here creating necromantic tethers on people, they don't need a cleric to perform a resurrection. Just grab the hanging soul and use it to heal normally!

Unfortunately, none of them know that much about the purpose of the mission. They turn to interrogating Zeego, instead.

What follows is some discussion of the politics of Thunderbrush. Tonnera Mighty, notably, is a giant tree that towers over the entire city, which means she casts a shadow. This is bad for growing crops inside city limits, and because the jungle is an untamed nightmare of dangerous wildlife that must be constantly fended off by a fortified wall, inside city limits is really the only game in town for agriculture. It's hard to feed a populous city that way! Tonnera can shift her boughs a bit to give specific areas more light, but you need to be well-connected (like Oliver's family) to have the sunlight privileges necessary for agriculture.

What this means is that there's some social stratification to the basic means of feeding yourself, here. You either need to own a fishing boat and a place to store it (and risk your life fending off aquatic monsters), own land on the productive floodplain to the north (and get sunlight favors from Tonnera), or attempt to farm in the Stump-held territory to the south, outside Tonnera's shadow (and contend with inter-mafia turf wars). Growing cycles for crops on the Jewel are considerably shorter and more productive than those on Earth, which means it's possible to sustain a city's population on less farmland than residential land, but Thunderbrush is still a place running up against its carrying capacity.

There are also other concerns with Tonnera- a high-profile incident forty years ago where she apparently massacred a student protest, dubiously in self-defense, and an "accident" where a young girl belonging to a politically vocal family was killed in a scheduled building demolition.

Zeego believes that "fire will set us free", and that destroying Tonnera will solve all of their problems. There's a few issues with that, though- chief among them that there's a whole second city in her branches. It's not clear he's thought this through all the way.

Zeego also mentions that Red, the infernal teenager, is technically "in charge" of this mission, and might know more about how the black mana relates to the overarching goal- but also threatens the party that they'll be in serious trouble with "the boss" if they hurt his kid.

Vayen and Lydia went after Red! Uh-oh!

The party heads down that third hallway, resurrect another goon, and and find...

Looseleaf cheerfully explains the situation vis-a-vis killing all their friends and resurrecting them with necromancy, and offers to sit down and talk things out. It goes swell!

They let the kid out from Vayen's fucked-up tentacle trap, and try to have a civil conversation, but they're not having it. They do let on that they know something important about the plan that the rest of the butts don't know, but getting it out of them... it's not going well. There's a long conversation attempting to reason with Red and Zeego, but the fact of the matter is that they're a couple of angry anarchist teens who see the party as a bunch of bootlickers who can't be reasoned with.

Saelhen, realizing this, decides to take another approach. She signals to the team that she should be left alone to interrogate Red, and the party obliges. Looseleaf has an inkling of what Saelhen's planning, and plays it up.

Saelhen, finally alone with Red, starts signing in Thieves' Cant- pretending to drop the mask.

Her cover story is that she's been coerced into service. Her name is Sumiko Doe, just recently resurrected by a mysterious bug necromancer and her posse of miscellaneous scary elven freaks (plus Oliver and a werewolf). She brags about how easy it was to trick them into thinking she was on their side- which she had to do, because of how scary this evil necromancer is.

Red eats this up, excited to have a kindred spirit and an ally who can help them get out of this jam. They ask if she's "with the bird". Saelhen rolls a mixed failure trying to read into this, and just gets...

Yeah, Red is spilling. And recruiting! Wants "Sumiko" to join the Ashtray, now that her gang is dead. Even volunteers some useful information- apparently they're planning to replace Tonnera, take control of her through someone else. That's what the death essence is for.

Unfortunately, that's all they know as far as details- but their dad, Will-O, should know more, if Sumiko wants to escape and come with them back to base.

They rejoin the party, considering how best to engineer this "escape" back to Will-O to get information...

...when Lydia comes up the stairs nearby. And says there's a bomb.

A bomb?!

Yeah, a bomb. A really big bomb, downstairs. And everyone needs to run for their lives right now or they'll all explode and die.

Saelhen is skeptical, and rolls Something's Fishy.

Oh boy! Well that's a problem for next session, huh?

[storyoftest]

Text Log - William Samuel Part 2

Regu — 03/20/2023 5:38 AM The results were that William and his electricity powers and Samuel, unnoticed by him, was extreme durability William was also able to turn into a sort of were-possom beast made up of lightning when an immense amount of electricity is coursing through him Samuel could survive even the most deadliest of blows and also has impressive regeneration to go along that Wanting to see these abilities in action Rex's had the two of them go through many trials and see them in action [5:41 AM] During the off time Rex isn't paying attention to them they make a truce and work together to escape during the trials They mainly fought multiple enemies for their trials along side some random games that where only established when Rex got bored of watching them fight everything

Regu — 03/20/2023 5:47 AM Eventually they manage to escape the testing halls and confront Rex face to face William gets emotional with was surprising to Samuel as he learns more about the two's past and how they were a romantic pair and everything Unfortunately Rex's ultimate goal is to wreak havok with the powers held within the fallen meteorites around the world Before they could learn anything more they get overwhelmed by Rex's robots and they make their full escape from the lab (edited) [5:51 AM] Things are a bit awkward as Samuel and William try to find their way home Its quite a long journey back and along the way William open up more to Samuel abt his past and everything up to now They clear up a lot of things between them and find themselves not able to see the other as an enemy anymore but still not quite on friendly friend terms March 24, 2023

Regu — 03/24/2023 2:21 AM On thier long journey home many events take place ranging from fun but odd to high stakes battles [2:25 AM] Often they work together within these situations and from these they increasingly start to worry about the other Within periods they are in a safe location without monsters/Rex's goons they make a habit to train together so that when it comes to a battle they are relatively in sync [2:26 AM] As a sort of time frame it took around 3 ish months to get back home by foot/car since even tho both fellas escaped Rex's set up obstacles and challenges to continue on his experimenting on them

Regu — 03/24/2023 2:31 AM Said challenges are Mad max ish mario kart racing - some races mixed with musical battles Underground Battle pits Robot monster hybrid boss fights One of those battles includes  a battle between Rex and Williams robot son Jr [2:34 AM] Another side quest like thing to this act is William and Samuel taking on odd jobs in the towns/villages they stay in for money as they escaped with nothing Such jobs relate to the guys previous jobs like delivering mail or electronic error fixes

Regu — 03/24/2023 2:39 AM One boss fight thats planned out is one against a giant mutant bee they stumble across as they traverse a plains filled with mutated flowers that produces sickeningly sweet smell [2:40 AM]

Cold Rock It - 2 Mello

Song here gives the vibes of the fight i have associated with it

Regu — 03/24/2023 2:51 AM Theres also an encounter battle between Darius with William Darius more known as the Lone Lion is a sort of a random figure outside of the main cities. While not working as a sort of phantom thief, he works for a organization that also wants to stop the experimentation of humans with altered dna Due to Williams background Darius engages in a fight with William not knowing his change of heart It get sorted out when Samuel hears the commotion and they exchange info about  Rex They part ways after this and dont really meet up again after the Dakota Story end [2:58 AM] Another encounter battle happens between Regulus in his mind controlled state This occurs when Rex manages to capture Samuel and they are at a stand off in an airplane setting Rex continuing his curiosity has the two of them fight Regulus and see how long they last Rex leaves the plane to the two of them as a defense since its on auto pilot and its path is directly in Regulus' direction They both try to control the plane while fending off the creature and eventually they succeed and escape but still make a rough landing

Regu — 03/24/2023 3:10 AM Space Police in the Sky - Space Channel 5 OST Song vibe of battle

Regu — 03/24/2023 3:17 AM Within the off time where William and Samuel rest at motels and the like they slowly start to talk to one another more At first it was general thoughts about how they should continue forward and other planning but later grew into small talk and learning more about each other [3:23 AM] It became a small way to decompress after a day and allowed them to be more comfortable with each other One night William told Samuel his full story Rex and William were at first merely pawns of a larger corporation who worked similarly to unethical scientists however their talent and skill had them rise in rank and then Rex one day became lead of a project which William was his right hand man

Regu — 03/24/2023 3:26 AM They worked and made weapons made from materials not easily obtainable mainly pure light or electricity They created robots as well and led to them creating a very intelligent and sentient robot [Jr] Many of these weapons where mainly failures sans a barely stable prototype of William Electricity Dual Knives [3:31 AM] William at this time was not trusting in others to test out the knives at an unstable state and opted to test them out himself while he mainly used it on mundane things somehow he learned that someone stole them and tested it in a way he didn't want to, through assassination

Regu — 03/24/2023 3:40 AM The devastating damages caused by the knives on a live target impressed the higher-ups however and wanted the refinement of the knives This made Rex felt betrayed in a twisted way that William was able to create something more dangerous that he did. He started to become colder to William and let to an obsession with the dangerous One day Rex's created something that eliminated the higher-ups and from there he established his dominance and became the leader of the facility [3:44 AM] William at this point didn't want any part of this take over and he sought out to escape with his knives He also allowed others to escape with him and together formed a gang set on stopping Rex's havok

Regu — 03/24/2023 3:50 AM However at the start William did go down the dark route of using his knives for assassination of Rex's associates despite his previous objections This lasted for a long while before he got caught up in the explosion that sort of snapped him out of it realizing that even though he thinks he's halting Rex's plans hes still not doing any big damage and after recovery sets out a proper plan to stop Rex himself (edited)

Regu — 03/24/2023 4:16 AM Samuel was sort of perturbed after hearing this at first but seeing William actively trying to cover him in battle shows that William wouldn't necessarily do harm. He still worries about how he would go about stopping Rex givin that his number far exceeds both of theirs combined Still Rex did have to be stopped before more harms comes to more innocent people (edited)

Regu — 03/24/2023 4:37 AM Eventually when they get back to their main bases they split off in a sort of hesitant manner They go back to thier previous responsibilities and act like usual with the antics of trying to protect themselves from the king of the hill battles [4:41 AM] However despite going back to their old lives, they find themselves secretly meeting up whether its go train or just talk and hang around each others company

Regu — 03/24/2023 4:49 AM They often talked deeper about their fears and worries and past experiences together and undergo a sort of bond between each other It would be a long while where their crews would learn about their meet ups and partnership when working together towards stopping Rex March 29, 2023

Regu — 03/29/2023 2:49 AM Side info William has possum traits mainly seen in the ears eyes nose and tail. he also can be found wearing a gas mask to hide his face completely so no one can recognize him. is a big fan of punk/metal rock and wanted to initially become a singer. Samuel is a big baseball fan and even owns a bat. he also uses the bat for defense if it comes to it. Samuel is mixed black and Menominee alongside Dakota, they are cousins. [2:55 AM] William owns a motorcycle and is knowledgeable in mechanical stuff relating to fixing them Samuel has a big interest in bugs and such which is why he wasn't afraid in encountering a giant tarantula creature

Regu — 03/29/2023 3:09 AM William still has a slight australian accent

[mevelar]

The Traveler

Chapter 3 – Mark of Mercy Dozens of armed units surrounded the flats with one notable individual who looked to have sustained numerous battle-related injuries. The metid’s face sported a metallic cowling that covered his left temple all the way down to his jaw. A dilating lens substituted what was once his left eye and his robotic right arm clutched hold of something that resembled an advanced rifle of some sort. Once Daegal was chaperoned along with the other tenants to the front lawn, the surly metid stepped forth then raised his weapon aloft. “Name’s Karg. Karg the Merciful. I’m’s the top warlord of this band of Opus Dalis. There be any Raka in this bunch?”

Opus Dalis? Crap! Daegal thought as he tried to avert his gaze from the brigand leader. “No one?” the warlord huffed as he leveled his weapon at a random tenant before firing. An altaran instantly burst into flames causing those around them to flee in terror. Karg snorted with delight upon witnessing the fear he had induced. Daegal froze in horror upon witnessing the disintegration of a fellow tenant. It was not so much the violence that rattled him as the type of firearm the act was committed with. He had never seen such a weapon before. However, he surmised that it must have been one of types that he was assigned to investigate. At least that was part of his original mission plan. He also knew that if he gave even the slightest hint that he was aware of the significance of such weapons, his own life would meet the same fate as that of the unlucky altaran.

Moments later, the antilleen skulked from around the corner, its mouth dripping with some type of dark purple residue. Daegal quickly deduced that it must have been the blood of some unfortunate victim. “You weren’t supposed to eat ‘em just yet, idiot!” Karg bellowed at the lizard. “Hun...gerrr…” Daegal heard it's faint reply through his translation device. The warlord pointed towards the smoldering pile of flesh. “Eat that, instead.” The lizard let out a roar of protest. “Burrrnt! Baad... taaassste...” Another blast issued from the rifle and, within the blink of an eye, another unfortunate soul erupted into a ball of flame. Karg’s weapon emitted a bluish glow along areas where it was joined together. Upon observing the firearm further, Daegal figured the blue glow functioned as some type of cooling operation. Whatever it was, he figured that it must draw immense amounts of energy whenever it was fired. “Now,” Karg screamed through the translation device. “One last time: who here is Raka? Come on. Point out your neighbors and you won’t get hurt.”

Almost immediately, tenants began ratting each other out. If for no other reason than to save their own hides. The warlord seemed to take even more pleasure in the terror as he ordered his troops to fire upon the hapless crowd.

In a desperate move, Daegal pointed towards the antilleen then shouted, “This guy threatened to eat me if I didn’t transfer credits to his personal account.” Upon hearing the false accusation, the bipedal lizard let out a fearsome roar before turning to face the human. “Liieess!”

“Sure you did. Just check the transaction logs,” Daegal pointed at the lizard. “You had your account open and ready for transfer. I’m sure you were more than willing to give your boss his fair cut too, right?”

“Why you filching, dickless reptile!” Karg growled as he leveled his rifle at the antilleen. “Set yer pad down, now! And pray you had it set to delivering me a seventy percent cut.” The lizard relented at first, but eventually complied as it pulled out its datapad then placed it in front of Karg's feet. When the warlord ordered one of his men to examine the pad, the antilleen seized its window of opportunity of escape by lunging at the unsuspecting henchman. The hapless goon’s skull was crushed by the reptile’s powerful jaws causing torrents of dark blood to gush everywhere . Before Karg had a chance to fire, the lizard released its headless victim then bounded off into the darkness. The warlord cursed then ordered four of his troops to follow the antilleen's trail. “You, boy, are one lucky farker,” the warlord snorted as he slung the weapon on his back. “What’s yer name?” Daegal had to thank of a lie, and quick. “Doug… Doug Henneforth.” “Aye, human,” Karg stepped towards the archeologist. “I never trusted that two-timing scaly egg-crapper from the start. Lucky for you, your boldness has earned you a reprieve from my wrath… at least for the time being.” “T… thank you,” Daegal stammered with fear as he tried to avoid staring into the warlord’s face. Karg beckoned for two of his goons to seize hold of the archeologist. “Oh. Be careful of givin’ me thanks, primate.”

The warlord pulled out a metal rod that emitted a high-energy charge at the end. His goons, then, forced the human down to his knees as Karg activated the device then shoved the tip into Daegal’s forehead. Electrical currents coursed through Daegal’s body causing him to blackout momentarily. When he finally came to, he massaged his forehead only to feel a strange texture embedded under his skin. “Wha… what did you do to me?” Karg snorted then knelt down to the human’s eye level. “Call it my mark of mercy. Whenever I ask for something, you will deliver it to me without question. Otherwise there will be no mercy next time. Do I make myself clear?” Daegal nodded. “Yes. Very clear.” “Now go about your useless life and enjoy it while you can. But know this: you are now my property so long as you draw breath.” Karg reached out with his metal hand then grabbed hold of Daegal’s throat. He looked into the human’s eyes as the gears from his mechanical lens whirred in an attempt to achieve a focus on the archeologist’s face. “When Opus Dalis calls, you will answer.”

[ryjelsum]

if i logged in for my ffxiv free time to do return to ivalice (stb alliance raid) who would come with me to keep the pub goons from rushing the bosses while i watch cutscenes and nerd out about tactics

[five-rivers]

Danger First

Chapter 8

@pocketramblr This one is a bit shorter, but it came fast. :3

.

As much of a disaster as this was, it would have been about a thousand times worse without Tensei there. The Nomu guy had All Might pinned down, and as terrifying as that was, it was only made worse by how little he reacted to Shouta erasing his quirk whenever he caught sight of him.

No wonder Midoriya had been a wreck this morning. If nothing else, this confirmed his quirk was some kind of precognitive danger detection, and Shouta fully intended to get it registered as such the minute they got out of this mess so that the next time Midoriya showed up shaking in his red shoes, they could hit the problem with an army.

The hand-covered villain started reciting numbers. What was he doing? Counting something? Time?

Shouta blinked. The villain said a new number.

Oh, hell. The bastard was measuring the length of time he could keep his quirk active.

Distantly, because he was currently fighting about a dozen villains and really needed to keep his attention on not dying, Shouta registered an approaching young scream. Then something thunked into the fountain, and a line - a carbon fiber cable? - appeared between Shouta and the hand villain, giving them both pause. The pause lasted just long enough for two pairs of red shoes to plow into the side of the hand villain's head.

The momentum of impact took both Midoriya and the hand villain into the fountain. Then the fountain disintegrated. Shouta turned his quirk back on, and Midoriya log rolled away from the remains of the fountain.

"Get out of here!" ordered Shouta.

"Yes, sir!" said Midoriya, scrambling to his feet and managing to dodge several villains' attacks in a way that looked both natural and uncanny.

Shouta refocused on the hand villain, who could evidently disintegrate things by touching them. What a joy. A completely terrible match up for close range fighters like himself and Tensei. Or All Might, for that matter.

As Shouta strategized, part of his brain filed the question of how Midoriya had gotten there under 'for later.'

It would be best to restrain him while he was still disoriented-

Then the portal villain was there, between him and the disintegration villain.

Shouta found himself falling.

.

Izuku did not reach Ingenium in time to stop him from being pinned by the tree. Not that he'd known Nomu would throw a tree that way, but he'd been more than aware that something bad was going to happen.

From what Izuku had seen so far, All Might had been trying to keep his fight with Nomu away from others while still occasionally throwing an assist. But Nomu was strong. If Izuku didn't know better, he'd say the villain had multiple quirks-

-except maybe he didn't know better. Here was Izuku with two quirks, after all. Who was to say there couldn't be another quirk like One for All?

That could be bad.

Judging by the way All Might's direct attacks and punches barely moved Nomu but throws seemed to work normally, in addition to a regeneration quirk, Izuku would say he had something else that absorbed impact. And then possibly a strength quirk...?

All Might and Nomu rolled out of the trees. All Might was ever-so-slightly bloodied. Nomu looked unscathed.

It would be a gamble, All Might probably had already realized it, but...

Knowledge was power.

Izuku cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "All Might! I think he has more than one quirk!"

Black bled into the air.

"You certainly are a golden egg, aren't you?"

The mist villain and the hand villain were there. The hand villain, who bore a strong resemblance to a drowned rat, cackled.

"You've been trying to seal his movements, haven't you?" he said, voice scratchy. "But it's no good, he's just as powerful as you. Nomu- our specially made multi-quirked anti-All Might weapon. Kurogiri."

"Yes, Shigaraki Tomura."

More portals started to form, and Izuku started to get a better, horrible idea of what the villains' goal here was.

He needed Ingenium, and Kaminari.

He edged away, then turned to run. He couldn't directly help All Might right now, but if All Might could just hold out a little longer-

He grabbed Kaminari and Tsuyu's hands. "Help me get Ingenium free! I have a plan!"

"You have a plan, Midoriya?" asked Ingenium.

"Y-yeah," said Midoriya. "Just, we have to get this off of you for it to work-"

"Explain to me as you go."

"Well-"

.

"Multiple quirks," said En quietly.

"No! Toshinori killed him!"

"Never thought he was human enough to die-" started Banjo.

"Please tell me you aren't quoting pre-quirk literature at us right now," said En.

"Yoichi?" asked Hikage.

The ghosts shifted their attention to their first member.

"You don't seem very surprised," observed Nana.

"I guess it's like Banjo said," said Yoichi with a pained smile. "I just... never really felt like it was over... Even if I didn't think he'd attack Izuku of all people..."

"Well, he isn't. Clearly he's sent his goons after Toshinori. But why wouldn't you think he'd go after Ninth as soon as he realized Toshi passed on One for All?" asked Nana, putting her hands on her hips.

"Probably because it doesn't look like he has One for All?" suggested En.

"Oh," said Nana. "Yeah. Good point."

.

Izuku didn't miss the pain that flickered across Ingenium's face as he stood, or the way he was clearly favoring one side of his body, but they didn't have a lot of options right now. This was the best they could do. All Might was still avoiding the portals, and Nomu reaching through them, but he'd had to abandon his cape.

Worse, he was still obviously worried about the four of them, and had left himself open to injury to knock small-fry villains away from them multiple times as they levered the tree off Ingenium.

They didn't have time. They didn't have options.

(This would be a great time for reinforcements from the school to arrive.)

(They didn't.)

Izuku handed the spooled out end of the grappling hook to Ingenium, and the gun end to Kaminari. Tsuyu wrapped her tongue around Izuku and they jumped away, out of range.

Then Ingenium took off, compensating for less thrust output on his injured side. He was wobbly, and the hand villain easily dodged him, but the mist villain, with his focus on the portals, didn't. Ingenium slammed the points of the grappling hook into the man's metal collar, and ran.

Lightning struck, racing down the conductive cable from Kaminari to the mist villain. The man convulsed, the portals snapping shut.

One of them snapped shut on Nomu.

The villain's arm flopped onto the ground, and Izuku swallowed hard. That could have been All Might, if they hadn't timed that right.

Nomu roared, but its muscles bulged, and its arm, rapidly, disgustingly, grew back.

They'd gotten rid of the portal threat, but what now? Nomu and the hand villain were still very much threats, and if the hand villain got even one hand on All Might, it was game over.

.

Third cursed, surprising everyone.

"Ooh, are you finally acknowledging Izuku's superior skill in strategy and quirk analysis?" asked Yoichi, striking a pose.

"No," said Third, stepping away from the wall. "You can keep him to yourself. I just don't want Eighth to die." He walked over to the fiery form that was Yagi Toshinori's placeholder in the mindscape. "He's still connected."

"Well, yeah," said Yoichi. "What are you doing?"

"I'm giving him Fa Jin."

"What! He can do that?" demanded Banjo. "What about Blackwhip?"

"How the hell would Toshinori explain Blackwhip? Give it a rest already."

Third put his hands on Eighth's shoulders.

.

"Midoriya!"

"Monoma?" Izuku staggered as Monoma dropped both hands on his shoulders. "What?"

"The portal villain!" said Monoma, eyes wide. "He has multiple quirks!"

"It's true," said Kirishima, running up behind him. "After we were zapped to the ruins zone, Monoma was able to do all sorts of stuff."

"So, he's like Nomu?"

"That thing has multiple quirks, too?"

Normally, cling someone with a quirk that affected their appearance a thing was frowned upon, but in this case they were all going to let it slide.

"Yeah," said Izuku. A terrible idea began to rise up in his mind. But then he was distracted by Kaminari starting to wander towards the fight. "I think it has three," he said in a rush. "Regen, strength, and shock absorption if you can think of anything-" he cut off. "We need to get Kaminari."

"I've got him," said Kirishima quickly, "I can take a hit."

Izuku nodded.

"Midoriya, Ingenium!" said Tsuyu with a gasp.

Ingenium had collapsed, clutching one of his legs. Tears pricked at Izuku's eyes. There was too much going on!

A wave of ice crusted over Nomu.

Todoroki!

All Might took advantage of his opponent's temporary incapacitation and leaped back to where Izuku and the others were, grabbing Kirishima, Kaminari, and Ingenium on the way. "You kids need to get out of here!"

"But the shock absorbtion-!"

"Geez, plain kid, what are you, some kind of exposition dump?" asked the hand villain, scratching his neck. "A secret gimmick boss?" He laughed. "Yeah, Nomu has shock absorption. Like I said-" Nomu ripped itself free of the ice, "-he's a specially made living sandbag, a damage sponge just for-"

The hand villain cut off as a floating tree branch hit him over the back of the head, knocking free one of his costume hands. He staggered but didn't fall, swiping behind him with one hand. One of his own hands, that was. Hagakure yelped.

Not really thinking, Izuku picked up a rock and threw it at the hand villain, who caught and disintegrated it. "That's it, you hero brats!" He was blown back by a gust of wind.

"Go!" urged All Might. "Shock absorption quirks always have limits! So do regeneration quirks!"

So did All Might.

"If I could touch him," started Monoma. "If I could touch you-"

"Go," repeated All Might, more urgently.

"You heard him," said Tsuyu.

"Running away?" taunted the hand villain. Then, more quietly but still audible, "Wake up, Kurogiri."

All Might smiled grimly. "Not at all," he said. Then he charged the Nomu.

.

The silver lining to being shipped express to the location of one of the most traumatic events in his life was that Shouta had cell service. He could call UA.

Literally everything else sucked.

"Nezu," he croaked into the receiver. "Attack-"

"On the USJ, yes. I gathered reinforcements when the computer system stopped returning my pings and I couldn't contact you or Thirteen. What is your- oh, dear, how did you get all the way out there?"

"One of the villains has a warp quirk," said Shouta, he shifted and hissed. "Dropped me from over a story up." Probably more like two. Or even three. "Kinda want to know why he dropped me here."

"I'm sending a ambulance your way," said Nezu brusquely.

"There's also a guy who can turn stuff to dust with a touch - got me a couple times, but only got my skin - and really... muscly guy. Fighting All Might. Lots of cannon fodder. My kids-"

"You've done everything you can. Focus on not dying. You were always one if my favorite students. I'd hate to lose you."

"I'm a teacher."

"And? Ah! That's Iida Tenya on the road!"

"'S he okay?"

"Somewhat winded, but unharmed! Anything else we should know?"

"One of the villains was going toe-to-toe with All Might," said Shouta, blinking black spots out of his eyes. "The leader had a five-point disintegration quirk- Got me a couple times, just lost some skin though." He inhaled deeply, and groaned at the distinct sensation of a cracked rib. "Kids were scattered. Don't know where they all were. Saw Midoriya." He took another gasp of air. "I think Thirteen was injured."

He could hear sirens.

"I think," he said, weakly, "that's... no, there were a lot of canon fodder guys... Did I say that already? I think that's it."

"Thank you, Shouta. I'm going to leave you on speaker. If you can think of anything else, let us know. We need to debrief Iida, now."

"Hn," said Shouta.

.

By the time All Might punched Nomu through the roof of the USJ, the hand villain was shaking the mist villain vigorously, and Izuku and his classmates were halfway to the exit, carrying Ingenium and Kaminari.

Izuku was relieved, despite the danger still hanging in the air. It couldn't have been more than thirty minutes since this all started, but it was probably shorter, and Izuku knew All Might had all his time for today.

With Nomu gone, there was no way All Might would lose. Not even to someone with a destructive five-point quirk. Izuku could write a whole article on his reasoning, with sources cited.

All Might flipped a cube out of his pocket, and it unfolded into a pair of handcuffs designed specifically for restraining people with five-point quirks. It was obvious that the hand villain wasn't going to come quietly.

The mist villain's yellow eyes opened groggily. All Might moved-

-too slow.

The hand villain and the mist villain were gone.

The other villains who had come with them, however, were still very present. Which is why, Izuku would maintain until he died, he passed out when the rest of the teachers stepped through the door of the USJ and he finally felt safe.

.

Shouta watched as the two villain leaders stumbled out of a portal not far from him. He had the presence of mind to silence his phone, but couldn't focus enough to do much else. Hopefully Nezu still recorded all his calls, the paranoid rodent...

"Kurogiri," growled the hand villain. "Where the hell are we, and why are we here?"

The mist villain - Kurogiri? - shook his head slowly. "I am unsure, Shigaraki Tomura. I do not recognize the area." His voice was unsteady and itched at Shouta's brain. "I suspect... I suspect that the electric attack of that student has damaged my quirk control."

"Then get it undamaged, idiot. Goddamn sun... we're out in the open! I can hear sirens."

"I believe that those are ambulance sirens. Police sirens have a different pitch-"

"I don't care! Open a portal back home!"

"I am uncertain if that is-"

"Take us back to the bar. Now."

The villains left again, all without noticing Shouta. Maybe they were just desensitized to corpses lying in dark alleys or something. Not that he was a corpse yet. Even if his eyes were sliding closed.

What an illogical affair.

This was a stupid place to die.

.

"Alright," said En, in a tone that indicated he wanted attention. "Now that Ninth is no longer in danger of immediate death, I think we have some things to talk about. Firstly, Yoichi, I have a question for you."

Yoichi looked resigned. "Ask away, then."

"Before I ask it, I just want to preface that I've always had the utmost respect for you, and obviously there's nothing you can do to act on it from in here, but I can't help but notice that you seem... unusually attached to Ninth."

Yoichi gestured for En to contine.

"So, I have to ask... Yoichi, are you a pedophile?"

"No, I'm not rel- a pedophile?"

"Like I said, you seem unusu-"

"I'm his uncle!"

"What," said Nana.

"What," said Banjo, not quite at the same time.

"Wha- Not that I'm not pleased I won't have to figure out a way to double murder you, but what?" demanded En.

"I can't believe you thought I was a pedophile! What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with him?" said Banjo, phantom representations of Blackwhip peeling off his body. "What's wrong with you? How are you Ninth's uncle?"

"In the usual way!" shouted Yoichi, who seemed to have gotten stuck on high volume. "I'm actually kind of shocked none of you noticed right away!"

"How could we possibly have noticed?" demanded Banjo.

"I noticed," said Hikage.

"I- Wait, what, really?" Yoichi turned to Hikage.

"Yes," said Hikage, gravely. "All for One was in the family photo on the wall in Ninth's house. The one in the living room. I thought we were just avoiding the subject to be polite."

"Hikage," said Nana, "I cannot begin to tell you how much that wasn't what was going on. Is that why you two were sulking?" she asked Third.

"We aren't sulking. We're protesting the ridiculous decision to give One for All to the son of All for One. And I'm going right back to it."

"Bah!" said Yoichi, waving him off. "Go sulk in your corner! You're just jealous that Izuku is the coolest One for All holder!"

En's eyes had narrowed suspiciously. "Those two were sulking way before we were in Ninth, let alone his house. When did they find out?"

"Like, the day after Eighth met him. I told them because I wanted advice, but I got sulking instead. See if I tell them any more secrets, ever."

"That was a year ago," said Nana. "Are you- How in the world did you know, anyway?"

"He looks just like Hisashi did at that age," said Yoichi. "Also, he always said that if he had kids, he'd name them Tomura and Izuku, so..."

"Ninth looks like his mother, though," said Nana.

"Yeah, and All for One is a grade-A narcissist," said Yoichi.

"You're saying he picked, ugh, what was her name- Inko. He picked Inko because she looked like him?" asked Nana.

"Yeah, essentially."

"Wait, wait, back up," said Banjo. "Tomura? Did you say Tomura?"

"Yeah?"

"That's what the mist guy called the hand guy that one time. Actually- Didn't All for One go by Shigaraki for a while there, too?"

The only audible sound was a heartrate monitor's muffled beep. Presumably from Ninth being hooked up to one.

"That's messed up," said Yoichi, finally. There wasn't much else to say.

[the-great-mighty-dink]

I’ve said before how basically every issue with Halo Infinite can be traced to 343i choosing to develop an open world game because it was the trend when development started in the mid-2010s, and it comes as no surprise that what it damaged most was the campaign experience itself. It’s no secret that the lack of co-op play and environmental variation is a result of the development scale, but one thing I haven’t seen people touch on is how the main themes of the story also get affected in a negative way.

For those who watched the 2020 gameplay reveal, you basically know the plot of the whole game; Master Chief, his Cortana-ish AI, and an unnamed UNSC pilot are stranded on a Halo ring, and they have to beat a big monkey man and his goons. The final game pulls another “AN ANCIENT EVIL AWAKENS” plot beat, like every previous 343i game, but it’s swept aside so harshly that it doesn’t matter, probably thanks to Joe Staten coming onto the team. The point is, the entire plot focuses on our three main characters, and only them.

The theme through the entire game is isolation, and staying hopeful through that isolation. I know this because the pilot tells us this in the opening cutscene while an overbearing emotional piano plays over it, but also because the enemies, the Banished, are built up as decisive winners over whatever battle set the stage for this story. Their leader taunts you by going into detail about how destroying the UNSC’s crown jewel of a ship only took four minutes, and the bosses in the game are primarily his top warriors, titled Spartan Killers; it’s clear that, despite their barbaric nature, the Banished are a force to be reckoned with, able to overpower a ship with an active Spartan crew in the hundreds. It’s hammered in at every turn in the story that this game is about only you against all of The Banished.

Then, the second the open world element starts up, you’re directed to save five bases full of marines.

The marines you find in Halo Infinite are introduced without fanfare, only existing to be freed at one of many optional objective markers on the map. Even when securing FOBs, the fast travel points of the game, marines simply spawn the moment you secure the base, most of the time directly in your line of sight. They hardly feel programmed, with only enough pathfinding to hopefully get to your Warthog or Razorback, and an unlimited jump height because they initially weren’t planned to be able to follow you around Zeta Halo’s vertically-oriented environment, as confirmed by Staten in an interview. Even basic functions from as late as Halo 5 don’t exist anymore, like riding on the Scorpion’s treads and driving their own vehicles.

It’s obvious that marines just sort of existing puts a dent in the isolation-driven narrative, but one other element does; the UNSC audio logs. Personally, I didn’t pay much mind to them other than being collectibles to find, as I haven’t cared about the Deep Lore for a decade now. Upon listening, though, more holes get punched into the theme of the game, as the logs detail how several other characters survive and hold their own against the same foes you’re facing, as well as logs from a Banished prisoner, and some flavor storytelling from before the events of the game. Point is, these logs serve to tell that you’re very much not alone in this adventure, that there are other heroes doing the same thing, just off screen.

Neither of these elements come to matter in the story. Even if you rescue every marine, gather every audio log, capture every FOB, the story is still squarely focused on Chief and the pilot lamenting how alone they are on this ring, how the UNSC is entirely gone, how Chief is the only person fighting back against this enemy. In the penultimate mission, the game plays a low-energy cover of the Halo theme as you’re handed a Scorpion to charge the main Banished base. You can’t visit an FOB and bring marines with you, and those side characters who are out hanging around don’t come to help. It’s a complete letdown for players like myself who 100%’d these elements. 100%-ing the game at all is a waste, only rewarding you with different shades of gray and red for your multiplayer Spartan, brought on by 343i removing the ability to customize colors to squeeze the game into a predatory F2P model.

The campaign still wouldn’t deliver much if you were to fix these issues, either; the boss characters are all introduced without fanfare, including one “built up” through the whole game. The lack of focused mission design culled most interesting enemy types and encounters from previous games while introducing nothing new to the enemy lineup except Drones But A Little Less Bad. The story doesn’t even get resolved, stopping abruptly at what feels like the halfway point, most likely to sell the next $60 expansion for the campaign. While the gameplay is by far the best 343i has put out, it ended up being a very disappointing campaign to play, only beaten by Halo 5 in its lack of quality.

tldr; campaign ruined by open world, multiplayer ruined by f2p

[akaigoonfacilityslogs]

[ #000: Beginning Log. ]

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Greetings, this would be the first log on the computers. I am Phobia, the Head Researcher and Founder of the Akaigoon Facility ( name pending. )

This is a project to study the behaviors of these goo-beasts and to see if they could truly intergrade into society as a whole, human and beast alike, hand-in-paw.

We as a whole recognize the true potential of these beasts, and if we are able to complete this goal we believe that the world as a whole will benefit.

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[itzagothamcitysiren]

There’s Only Us Left Now

An update two days in a row? Wow, there really is something wrong with me lol. 

I’m feeling slightly better after taking the morning to just take care of myself. I got the haircut that I’ve needed since like before covid started. I got my oil change that needed to be change since June. And I went to Ulta and got a new eye shadow pallete and Old Navy for some flannels.  Now I’m going to eat my Taco Bell and get back into writing this! 

Thanks again to those who are still reading this <3 This chapters a little shorter than what I usually write but I wanted to show stuff from Tim’s POV. 

I Had a Dream I Was a Vigilante’s Side Kick pt. 4

           Tim Drake was a considerably patient kid as having patience was a requirement in his family. Having strong shoulders was another one as the amount of bullshit his father piled onto them would overwhelm the average fifteen year old. Tim wasn’t the strongest but up until now he was pretty damned sure that he was strong enough to deal with it.

           He ran his hands through his hair again. His back still leaned against his bedroom door that separated him from the living room. The conversation he could hear from the opposing side was going just as badly as the one he had yesterday with Halley Wilson had gone. He closed his eyes when he heard his father’s grunt and the sound of him being hit in the gut.

           Okay, maybe it was going worse.

           Tim wanted to step out and help his father but he wasn’t an idiot. Oswald Cobblepot’s cronies, as thick headed as they were, could easily make Tim regret any stand of rebellion. That was why he banked all his cards into the famed batfamily. They could give him the skills he needed to protect his family from the consequences of his father’s life choices. He would’ve been able to stop this.

           He knew he could’ve simply asked for help but what would they really have done? Batman wasn’t the Batman he once was. Like he had told Halley, he was darker, more brutal as he fought. Tim grew up idolizing the hero and like any kid in Gotham wanted to be the next Robin. But unlike all those other kids Tim was fit for the job.

           Hell he had figured out that Bruce Wayne was Batman. He found out all of their identities. Tim knew how to track them down and where to find them. He’d tailed Halley for weeks without her noticing him. She was supposed to be his ticket in. He failed of course. He knew his chances of actually getting her on his side were slim but he thought he’d get further than he had.  At the time, he was unaware the details but he knew there had to be some big reason for her to quit being Nightshade. He was naïve to think he could get her back into the game with him tagging along.

           “He died because of the Joker.” Halley’s words echoed in his head as he heard his father let out another grunt. Tim knew that there was a risk being Batman’s sidekick and he had a hunch that the whole skiing accident story about Jason Todd was in fact just a story and held no real truth.

           Tim pulled away from the door quiet as to not alert the goons invading his house that he was home. His dad was a screw up that much Tim knew but like Tim he wasn’t an idiot. He made idiotic decisions like taking out a loan with the Penguin that he knew he wouldn’t be able to pay back but he wasn’t stupid. He was just desperate; he was desperate to save his failing business and make a better life for his family. Tim could relate trying to rake through his mind for a solution for his failed attempt yesterday.

           He made his way to his balcony. They only lived on the third floor and the climb down by the fire escape wasn’t that hard. He could go try again. Maybe explain his situation better. Maybe Halley would put the cape and mask back on just to help him take down Penguin? No, she wouldn’t. But if he had to deduce anything he’d be pretty confident in saying that she told the other me members of the batfamily about him knowing their secret. He could use that to go straight to Batman. The taxi ride out to Wayne Manor wasn’t the worst. It was only a little more expansive than boy could afford right now but it could possibly be worth it.

           He rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he looked out at the streets below him. Would it be worth it though? His father got them in too deep with one of the biggest crime bosses of Gotham. Batman would just slap him around a bit and then send him to Arkham in which Cobblepot would just live out his sentence in luxury until he was let out. His family would still be indebted with him and in trouble when he got out. And he would get out; he always got out.

           Tim’s eyes lit with a spark an idea flashing across his mind.  He was either a genius or he was either insane. Beyond insane, he decided to himself before softly rushing back into his room, but extremely genius.

           He stood still hearing the intruders bidding farewell too his father with a demand for him to make sure he can pay up at their next visit. Tim looked down knowing his dad was most likely making his way to the bathroom to lick his wounds before his mother caught home from work. Unlike his mother, Tim wasn’t kept in the dark from his father’s misfortune, having caught his father during another one of his meetings some time ago.

           Once Tim heard the front door be locked and the bathroom door close, he picked up his step and made his way to his desk. He opened up his laptop, logging in and setting himself off to work. His fingers typed furiously, his eyes flickered across the screen and his mind was pushed the farthest it had ever been pushed. Tim was great with computers. So great that he was able to not only use it to track down Halley but when he was first learning how to hack he had been able to award himself a full scholarship to Gotham Academy.

           Tim was smart enough to get in but his guidance counselor never got around to submitting his application in time. You gotta love Gotham’s amazing public school system, Tim huffed, remembering how little the counselor cared about her delay. And it wasn’t like Tim’s parents could really afford to send him themselves right now. Maybe a couple of years ago when his father had just begun stepping into the higher class of Gotham. But that was before he made a couple of bad deals that lead them to where they were now.

           The fifteen year old cracked his knuckles the time passing by quickly as he continued to work. The sun setting and then rising didn’t faze him. He was done by the time he was supposed to be waking up and getting ready for school. He smirked as he closed the laptop knowing his work was done. He had managed to do exactly what Batman failed to do. He finally found a way to take Oswald Cobblepot down for good.

           The smug smile he wore from the moment he closed his laptop to the moment he walked to school and to the moment he sat in the library alone during lunch never faded. He was already the weird, poor, outcasted kid in the school but he didn’t care if the twisted smile he had on helped his case or not. He was happy; he stuck it right where it hurt. Oswald deserved everything Tim did last night.

           He jingled his house keys, a certain pep in his step as he walked down the hallway to his apartment. His book bag slung over his shoulder, the day going by as quick as a breeze. He wanted to tell his dad what he did but he knew that it was a secret he was meant to keep. He hummed to himself as he opened the door to the apartment.

           For the first time since it appeared, the self-righteous look on his face was torn right off.      His eyes scanned around the kitchen, the open dining area shown off as well. His eyes nearly blew out of his skull as he saw the disarray the rooms were in. The side table where they all left their keys and mail was knocked over as if someone was pushed into it in some sort of scuffle. The dining room table was top side as well one of the chair broken and tossed off to the side.

           He felt his heart stop quietly closing the door behind him and ignoring every instinct to run away. He could hear soft sobs. They sounded like his mother. Oh no, he thought dreadfully. There was no way Cobblepot knew it was him. There was no way. Tim used every form of protection he had. He used firewall after firewall, decoy vpn after decoy vpn. Tim was so sure he was careful. And if he knew how did he find out so quickly?

           “Mom?” he called out, his voice shaking. On his way to the living room, where the sound of her cries were coming from, he stopped in the kitchen and grabbed the first thing he could find. It was a frying pan but it would do. “Mom.” He called out again stepping over one of the chairs on the floor.

           “Mom!” He called out when he got sight of her. She sat on the couch, her head in her hands and shoulders shaking. The small living room was just as a mess as the first half of the house. Tim crouched down in front of her, resting a hand on her shoulders. “Are you okay? What happened?”

           His mother raised her head, staring at her son with her tear reddened eyes. She choked out a sob before launching herself at him and pulling him into a tight embrace. Her words were hard to understand as she began to talk, but Tim knew what happened.

           “They took your father! They wouldn’t tell me why! I don’t even know who they are. They just came in and did this,” She cried, releasing her son and motioned to the apartment. “They said if I called the cops they’d kill him. I don’t know what to do.”

           Tim bit his lip knowing exactly what happened and who they were. He stood up heading out of the living room and to his room. His mother followed him still obviously shaken and didn’t know what her son was up too or why he looked so unsurprised. Tim took a quick peek at his desk. His fear was confirmed when he saw that it was missing. He cursed to himself. His mother always said Tim and his father were two peas in a pod but he never believed it until now.

           “Mom,” he said placing both hands on her shoulder.  “You need to get out of the city. Go to Gram’s house. I know who can help us but it’s not safe for you.”

           “Excuse you?” the woman exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips. “What are you talking about? No, what I’m going to do is go to the police. It’s what I should’ve done.” She sniffled, wiping her face and moving to head to the phone in the kitchen.

           Tim beat her too it, snatching it out of her hands and smashing it onto the floor and stomping on it. He rubbed his foot in it and looked up at her apologetically.

           “Timothy!” She cried out.

           “I’m sorry but don’t call them. They’re serious. They’ll kill Dad.” Tim explained as he began to back away. “Go to Gram’s.” He repeated before making a dash to the front door and bolting out of the apartment before his mother could stop him.

           He ignored her screaming after him and raced out and onto the streets of Gotham. He pushed past people, shouting out apologies. His breath was heavy as he ran making his way in desperation to Gotham University.

[leam1983]

It’s the end of the work week and, well...

I’m having thoughts on labor culture.

My father was born in 1958. He lived as the son of an absent father of five children who had no ability to truthfully express his love and care, and who instead chose to bury himself in work as a means to display his commitment. My paternal grandfather made and sold mattressees and died quite young of a cancer strain that today would’ve seemed benign. He was described as a hard worker, either up to his neck in his business or wanting just a scant few hours per day to himself. It made an aloof lover out of him and a distant father - who still loved his wife and children to bits but who felt emotionally castrated in a sense, as were men of the era.

The family consensus is that his work killed him.

My father is now 65 and survived a bout of Non-Hodgkinian Lymphoma. The oncologist and anyone with half a brain agreed that stress was the culprit. Early on, Dad had the family as an excuse for his tendency to overwork. He had to provide for us, after all, and garnish my mother’s meagre savings. All she has is her government-issued pension plan, while my father does have his own pension as a retiree of the City of Montreal’s Real-Estate Appraisal service. Considering, he felt obligated to pull a heavier load to bring in more, so they’d have better investment opportunities. Later on, he kept working out of a sense of fealty and attachment to his division, breaking out of retirement during the pandemic to join the work-from-home team. He wanted to help techs and city officials find ways to bring more of the traditionally snail-mail-based parts of the system online so the city’s Land Management service wouldn’t be paralyzed by COVID-19. What was supposed to be a single month turned into four, which turned into twelve.

By the end, they were begging him to stay on the team and to pull longer hours. We’re talking twenty hours per day, in some particularly grueling stretches. That means being logged in by breakfast and scarfing bagels down with Urban Design techs on Zoom instead of your own family, or having supper with your boss because she needs a play-by-play of the situation to stave off her executive anxiety.

Long story short, I didn’t see Dad much during the first wave. His reasoning was that he’d eventually stop, pool all this cash, and chuck it into his and Mom’s Registered Retirement Savings Account - with maybe an extra two thou or so in case the country reopened enough for their postponed trip to Cuba to take place.

Guess what? His zona flared up and he ended up with odd, shingly bumps along his scalp which to this day the local dermatologist grimaces at and tentatively has us dab with cortisone cream.

Mom, though? She’s a retired and registered nurse with a self-negating streak and a chronic propensity to undervalue her own physical ailments. Someone who quite literally understands the pain of busted hips on a clinical level because she was trained in Gerontology - and also someone who refuses to schedule an appointment with her GP and who inexplicably self-medicates with white wine.

As for me, I’m a 37 year-old man with a paycheck I consider massive with its meagre six bucks above the minimum-wage threshold - someone who chose to shack in with his folks until the current crisis ends and who therefore has a history of a single, willingly terminated apartment lease that originally began in the Planned Housing market. The apartment I want is basically a Barbie doll house for adults, a gleaming fantasy I’ll never have enough capital to touch unless I feel like trying my hand with criminal applications of my skills. The apartment I can get right now is a shithole, and I have the audacity to think I deserve a shithole that at least wasn’t someone’s former cockroach den.

Now here’s the kicker: I value my sanity and my health. I know my mental stamina levels and I know from experience that after working seven-point-five hours per day with the occasionally shorter Friday, I’ve found my limit. I could invest more if I worked more, yes, and I’m already in a better position than my parents, retirement-wise. I’ll never be rich, but I’m already set to be comfortable, provided I don’t spend my golden years trying to make it as an unsponsored TechTuber or anything else that’s equally ludicrous.

Where that’s a problem is in the toxicity this is generating. See, I have the gall to slide my daily schedule later so I can start at an hour that fits my biological clock and ends at an hour where I’m at my most creative. That means the folks saw me spending my pandemic mornings on Animal Crossing while Dad was trying to wrangle Excel spreadsheets for non-tech-savvy fellow Boomers while preventing the dog from eating his meeting notes. That means they guzzled vinho verde like it was Kool-Aid after seven while I made sure to find more concrete means to distance myself from work - ideally ones that didn’t involve functional alcoholism.

Naturally, what was bound to happen, happened: Dad soon spent his evenings calling me shiftless or “unwilling to commit”, while I was stuck watching him miss all the cues his stressed-out body were sending him. We already had Trump’s last desperate months and a global plague to handle, I really didn’t want my work to turn into more of a nuisance than it already is. I already love the people I work for and hate what I do (repeating the family cycle, it seems), but I’ve at least decided to give myself ample Me time every single day. 

I’ve paired that with smaller, if consistent portfolio investments, along with a few new habits I wanted to get into to stay saner. Dad pulls crosswords or plays competitive chess in the wee hours, while I usually lay down to meditate around midnight and fall asleep by 1 AM at the latest. I’m half-expecting my father to pull a Tyler Durden and to sneer at me, at some point. “Self-care is masturbation,” he’d probably say.

Looking at classifieds for rentals, it’s obvious that the entire system is predicated on abuse. Work yourself down to the therapist’s office, right down to the fucking bone, and you just might earn a half-decent retirement because nobody’s taught you to invest incrementally. Nope, Society seems to say, you’re supposed to buy, buy and buy some more, until you realize you have ten years left to start from scratch!

I remember Dad’s face on my eighteenth birthday. “Why would you want a Disability Care Savings Account, Brain? You just turned into a legal adult by Canadian standards - you’re in no rush, right?”

I told him the real gift I wanted for my birthday, that day, was a ride to the family’s Financial Investments counsel. I pulled up the PDFs I’d printed out and filled and brought them over. From then on, if I dropped a penny in my nest-egg, Ottawa would drop another one. If my share grew, so did the government’s. In the twenty-odd years since, it’s expanded exponentially.

Dad thought I’d done this to have a big cushion by the time I’d retire. Mom thought I’d done this in case my disability worsened and I started requiring equipment or physical assistance. Honestly, my dumb, if slightly prescient eighteen year-old self figured I’d rather spend my time reading or playing video games than working. I knew I’d need something to help cushion my admittedly low career-related ambitions. I might throw several thousands at a new computer every seven to eight years, but that’s because I’ve saved them up for just as long, little by little. I have no vices beyond what sillicon offers and what you’d find in the pages of a book and don’t exactly need a big ‘ol, stonkin’ humidor stuffed with conoisseur stogies.

I have a shoebox with a poked-out Ziploc bag and a sponge, with a handful of joints and a few Santa Anas I got off of a buyer’s pool from work. Five of us occasional chair-bar goons pooled cash together on Cigar Chief and cushioned prices with a single, shared and massive order. I’m nowhere near rich, but assuming the housing market can catch its breath eventually, I’ll be able to live modestly - with one or two markers of occasional luxury I’ll have chosen.

I have a shittier job than my father has had and I’ve chosen to be happier than him. It’s just sad that the usual response elevates overwork as the supposedly one, true way to leave a mark in society.

No, Dad. I don’t want to die while my own cells eat me alive, I want to die blazed out of my fucking mind, happy because I’ll have had time to enjoy my friends’ company and to finally make some sense out of Kerouac’s Subterraneans or to figure out what the fuck is going on in Joyce’s Illiad. I’ll die crusty as shit and fulfilled as a Pop Culture jockey, because I’ll have either finished Persona 5: Golden in my lifetime or I’ll have watched the entirety of the MCU’s output before Disney finally manages to kill their golden goose.

I want to die decades from now, feeling like I at least owned my choices and didn’t spend my time tethered to someone else’s professional expectations of me.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Dark Side of the Moon: Final Part

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,441

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

Underneath a ‘Come In We’re Open’ sign, Ash draws another sigil-formula. This one is different from the other ones you’ve seen, but you know it’ll work.

“All Access Pass to the Magic Kingdom,” Ash smiled.

“Good,” Dean nodded, but when Ash gave him a pointed look, he changed his attitude about it. “Not good?”

“That Zachary fella is going to be watching every road to the Garden.”

“We’ll be prepared. Thanks, Ash,” you thanked, giving him a hug.

Behind you, Pamela hugs Sam before moving onto Dean. Instead of hugging him, she decided on other things. She pulls his head down for a kiss. You wanted to care, but since she was dead you kind of gave her a pass for it. Plus, he needs to be used to kissing other women since he’s definitely breaking up with you once he finds out. You have to tell him when you’re alive because this was getting to be too much for you to handle.

“Yup. Just how I imagined,” she grinned.

Dean looked over at you, but when he saw you not even looking at him and Pamela, he knew something was definitely wrong. He is going to have to question it when he gets back to his body.

“Ah, gentlemen and lady. I don’t mean to be a downer or anything but… I’m sure I’ll see you again soon,” Ash chuckled once the contraption was ready to go.

“Well, keep a sixer on ice for us,” Dean declared.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

He opened the door for you three, and you walked in first with Dean right behind you and his little brother in last. Whatever Ash did definitely didn’t lead to a garden because this was the living room of Dean’s childhood home in Lawrence. It’s dark, empty, and kind of creepy if you’re being honest. A train’s whistle can be heard in the background.

“What the… Why are we back home?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know. So what are we going to do?” Sam wondered.

“Keep looking for the road, I guess,” you shrugged.

You turned to start looking when you noticed Mary standing behind you three. Nudging Dean’s shoulder, he turned around first and then Sam last. This time, Mary was just like how she is in the pictures Dean had, but she was wearing the nightgown she wore the night she was killed.

“Honey. Why are you up?”

“Look. I’m-I’m sorry. I love you but you’re not real and we don’t have time—”

“Did you have another nightmare? Tell me,” she interrupted him.

“I gotta go,” he shook his head.

“Then how about I tell you my nightmare, Dean? The night I burned,” she chuckled.

Blood started appearing on the nightgown right above her stomach.

“Sammy let’s get out of here,” Dean said shakily.

“Right behind you,” you declared.

“Don’t you walk away from me,” Mary snapped, and Dean halted in his steps. “ I never loved you. You were my burden. I was shackled to you. Look what it got me.”

She blinked and her eyes turned yellow… the same yellow as Azazel’s.

“Dean, come on. This isn’t real,” you urged, yanking on his arm to get him moving.

However, he just seemed frozen in place. When he could finally move, he turned to you with a look of pure devastation. The lights in the house begin to change color, taking on an unhealthy green hue. The room starts to change all around you, and suddenly, the doors are gone. Mary blinks once more and they are back to their normal color.

“The worst was the smell. The pain, well. What can you say about your skin bubbling off? But the smell was so… you know, for a second I thought I’d left a pot roast burning in the oven. But… it was my meat.”

Dean moves away from his demented mother to go to the wall where the door once was. Instead, it’s been bricked over so there was no chance to escape.

“And then, finally, I was dead. The one silver lining was that at least I was away from you. Everybody leaves you, Dean. You noticed? Mommy. Daddy. Even Sam. Y/N eventually. Want to know what she did?” she asked with a huge smile.

“Okay, shut the fuck up! You’re not real!” you yelled, throwing your hands out as if you still had your magic.

“Not going to work on me, sweetheart,” she said to you before turning to her eldest son. “You ever ask yourself why? Maybe it’s not them. Maybe, it’s you.”

“Easy now, kitten,” Zachariah revealed himself.

“You did this,” Sam glared accusingly.

“And I’m just getting started. I mean, guys. Did you really think you could just sneak past me into Mission Control?”

“You son of a bitch!” Sam yelled.

Very large angel goons appeared behind you three, and they grabbed you from behind. Normally, you could have gotten out of this with your magic, but you didn’t have it to protect yourself with this time.

“You know, I’d say the same thing about you, Sam, but I have actually grown quite fond of your mother. Or at least the Blessed Memory of her,” he chuckled.

He moved Mary’s hair away from her neck and began to kiss it. Dean has no choice but to look away since he won’t be able to handle this.

“I think we’re going to be logging a lot of quality time together. I’ve discovered she’s quite the... MILF,” he chuckled.

“I’m going to kill you,” you threatened harshly.

“With what? You’re magicless here, Y/N. In heaven, I have six wings and four faces, one of whom is a lion. You see this vessel because you’re,” he ran his fingers down the length of Mary’s arm, and it’s Sam who can’t watch this time, “limited.”

“Let’s brass tack this, shall we?” he continued, snapping his fingers to make Mary disappear.

“You gonna ball-gag us until we say yes? Huh, yeah, I’ve heard that one too,” you challenged.

Zachariah walked up to you and wasted no time slamming his fist in your stomach. If you were till pregnant, then that would surely kill the baby. He knew this would mess with your head which is why he did it in the first place. You folded over in a painful groan.

“I’m going to do a lot more than that. I’ve cleared my schedule. Get her up,” he ordered.

The angel holding you forced you to straighten, and Zachariah gave another hateful punch to your gut. Sam and Dean struggled against the angels holding them to they and help, but it wasn’t working.

“Let me tell you something. I was on the fast track once. Employee of the month, every month, forever. I would walk these halls and people would AVERT THEIR EYES!” He yelled, and the house begins to shake. “I HAD ‘RESPECT! And then they assigned me you three. Now look at me. I can’t close the deal on a couple of flannel-wearing maggots? Everybody’s laughing at me… and they’re right to do it. So! Say yes, don’t say yes; I’m still going to take it out of your asses. It’s personal now, and the last person in the history of creation you want as your enemy is me. And I’ll tell you why. Lucifer may be strong, but I’m ‘petty’. I’m going to be the angel on your shoulder for the rest of eternity.”

“Excuse me. Sir?” a third party spoke from behind Zachariah.

All heads turned to the stranger who interrupted this fun fest. He is a slightly older black man who had a calm look on his face.

“I’m in a meeting,” Zachariah said.

“I’m sorry. I need to speak to those three.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a bad time, I know, but I’m afraid I have to insist.”

“You don’t get to insist jack-squat.”

“No, you’re right. But the boss does. His orders,” he chuckled which only unnerved Zachariah.

“You’re lying,” he said uncertain.

“I wouldn’t lie about this. Look, fire me if you want. Sooner or later, he’s going to come back home and you know how he is with that whole wrath thing.”

Zachariah gave one last look at you, Sam, and Dean before turning to face the newcomer. The stranger is clearly not going to back down, and it was foolish on Zacharia’s part to challenge him. In a flutter of wings, Zachariah and his goons have gone away. Suddenly, the environment changed from a childhood house to a verdant, green garden—a conservatory. You are surrounded by the sounds of a forest. You walk down stone steps, approaching the stranger.

“This is heaven’s Garden?” Sam asked.

“It’s-it’s nice… ish. I guess,” Dean shrugged.

“You see what you want to here. For some, it’s God’s throne room; for others it’s Eden. You three, I believe it’s the Cleveland Botanical Gardens. You came here on a field trip.”

“You’re Joshua,” you concluded.

“I’m Joshua.”

“So, you talk to God.”

“Mostly, He talks to me.”

“Well, we need to speak to Him. It’s important. Where is he?” you asked.

“On Earth.”

“Earth?” You were very shocked at this.

“Doing what?” Dean cut in.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you know where on Earth?”

“No, sorry. We don’t exactly speak face-to-face.”

“I… I don’t get it. God’s not talking to nobody so…”

“—why is he talking to me,” Joshua finished for Dean. “I sometimes think it’s because I can sympathize—gardener to gardener—and, between us, I think he gets lonely.”

“Well, my heart’s breaking for him,” Dean said in a disgusted tone.

“Well, can you at least get him a message for us?” Sam asked, bringing the topic back to the important issue on hand.

“Actually, he has a message for you. Back off.”

“Excuse me?” you scoffed.

“He knows already. Everything you want to tell him. He knows what the angels are doing. He knows that the Apocalypse has begun. He just doesn’t think it’s his problem.”

“Tell me you’re joking because I am this close to kicking someone’s ass,” you growled.

“God saved you already. He put you on that plane. He brought back Castiel. He granted you salvation in heaven,” he turns to Sam, “and after everything you’ve done too. It’s more than he’s intervened in a long time. He’s finished. Magic amulet or not, you won’t be able to find him.”

“But he can stop it. He can stop all of it,” Dean stuttered.

“I suppose he could, but he won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Why does he allow evil in the first place? You could drive yourself nuts asking questions like that,” the angel shrugged.

“So he’s just going to sit back and watch the world burn?”

“I know how important this was to you, Dean. I’m sorry.”

“Forget it. Just another dead-beat dad with a bunch of excuses, right? I’m used to that. I’ll muddle through,” Dean said.

He was clearly too emotional about this, and that only added onto your guilt. He would have made a great father.

“Except… you don’t know if you can, this time. You can’t kill the Devil, and you’re losing faith in yourself, your brother, even your girlfriend, and now this?” Joshua asked, motioning to Heaven as a whole.

You were shocked at this because this is the first time you realized just how desperate and depressed Dean really is. Sure, he tells you things, but nothing like this. How could you ever tell him this now?

“God was your last hope. I just… I wish I could tell you something different.”

“How do we know you’re telling the truth?” Sam voiced his concerns.

“You think that I would lie?”

“It’s just that… you’re not exactly the first angel we’ve met.”

“I’m rooting for you three! I wish I could do more to help you, I do! But I just… trim the hedges.”

“Then what now?” you asked bitterly.

“You go home again. I’m afraid this time, won’t be like the last. This time, God wants you to remember.”

Joshua lifted his hand to send you three back to Earth, and he did so in a bright light which blinds you so much that you had to close your eyes.

When you open them next, you can’t help but wake with a loud gasp. Shooting out of bed, you noticed you were back in your motel room, the same one in which you died. Sam and Dean are lying lifeless on their beds, and before you could go to them, they awoke in a similar fashion. Both brothers sit up and cough as they tried to get used to being alive again.

“You two alright?” you asked.

“Define alright,” Dean sighed.

He got up and snatched his phone from the bedside table. He dialed a number with his back turned to you, and you could see his back is covered in blood where the hunters shot and killed him. Within a moment, Castiel appeared in the room so that you could update him on what happened. Once finished, he looked lost and without hope. He leans against the divider while Sam and Dean pack up their gear.

“Maybe… maybe Joshua was lying,” the angel said.

“I don’t think he was, Castiel. I’m sorry,” you sighed.

Your bag was already packed since you got it packed before you were killed. Castiel walked into the light, and he was glaring at Dean harshly.

“You son of a bitch. I believed in—”

He stopped short since he couldn’t think of the right words to say. He looked above for any kind of sign, but there is nothing to be seen. He shakes his head in disappointment before pulling out the amulet that he took from Dean.

“I don’t need this anymore,” he scoffed, tossing it to Dean. “It’s worthless.”

“Castiel!” you called out, but the angel was already gone.

Dean stared at the amulet in his hands with anger and regret.

“We’ll find another way. We can still stop all this, Dean,” Sam tried saying.

“How?” the older brother asked, finally looking up.

“I don’t know, but we’ll find it. You, me, and Y/N, we’ll find it.”

Dean clearly doesn’t believe him, and you and Sam both know it. He picked up his packed bag and walks past Sam without a word. As he walks out the door, he drops the amulet in the trash. Your heart broke, but you walked over to the trash to stare at the amulet. With one look at Sam, you reached in and grabbed it since you knew this was too special to throw away.

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[tracybirds]

:DD I finished!! Part 2!! of my Man from TB5 AU!! yay!!! A reminder for those who don’t recall last week let alone last month, this is based on a prompt by @kenzie-running-free :

A 'what-if' story based on "The Man From TB5" where the Hood recognized John in the scene when he makes himself known (instead of John stuttering).

Uh and so I did that and then John got kidnapped. Full backstory here: [Part 1]

Super many thanks to @gumnut-logic and @plantmuffin for reading parts and chatting plotting with me :D You’re both lovely!

Enjoy!!

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The silence that followed John’s dramatic exit was the hardest part. No one spoke, the only sound the roaring of the wind and the faint beeping in John’s ear that told him the connection had not yet been re-established. Perhaps, it wouldn’t. The Hood had intended for Penelope to call his brothers to her, and crucially away from him, so it followed that the frequency disrupter was concealed on his person.

If it were him in his ‘bird, he knew how to trace the dead air that a comm jam inevitably created. There was a trail that would follow, maintenance reports and upgrades listed. There was sudden news spreading online of short, unexplained communication failures, a flurry of online activity that burst into life the moment the disruption ended.

He wasn’t in his ‘bird. He didn’t have access to a vast network of datastreams and information caches and statistical modelling programmes. He had a radio that was only connected to a single network and magnetic socks for all the good they would do him. And he had thrown away the one item that might have been useful as a weapon.

After that impulsive choice, he wasn’t certain he could claim his brain as an asset.

One problem at a time. He knew how to calm a racing mind, knew how to create order out of apparent chaos.

Three goons.

One mastermind.

No control over the mechanism strapped to his body.

Wind chill.

No way to contact his family and make his position known.

Yet.

The steady beeping of an unconnected comm was replaced by crackling static. A stationary frequency disruptor then, not on the Hood’s personage at all. It would make things harder for Penelope and Parker to get out of the mess they were in, if they needed to destroy the jamming technology themselves, but it gave John a chance. He twisted slightly in his harness, the unforgiving metal tugging at his skin.

“You won’t get out, boy,” sneered the Hood. “And where would you go? Fall to your death like your mother? Like your friends back at the hotel will?”

John ignored him. His arm snaked higher, feeling underneath the lapel of his suit. He shuddered at the bite of metallic thread, the icy burn spreading outwards from his fingers.

His hands were clumsy and the cold already beginning to muddle his mind as he worked, fighting his instincts to curl up and preserve heat instead of picking at frozen circuitry.

The static dropped into the familiar, faint beeping as they flew through another patch of destructive signal interference. He worked through it, twisting at the threads to create a receiver that would remain open and linked into the iR comm line. To hack into his own network was no mean feat and more than once John had to abruptly shift from fiddling with the electrical components to scratching his chin as the Hood or his men peered back at him. A quiet Tracy was a dangerous Tracy. The Hood had learnt that lesson long ago.

He couldn’t allow more than a sharp inhale of excitement as the radio receiver caught the first snatches of conversation on the air.

“It’s been nearly an hour.”

“And he hasn’t called any of us?”

“EOS, you’re sure this isn’t you?”

“Positive!”

He couldn’t leave a transmission line open, not without creating a signal of his own that would draw attention to himself from unwanted parties. Especially as he couldn’t guarantee it would attract his brothers’ attention. Better to wait.

A new voice broke through.

“Calling International Rescue, we have urgent need of assistance.”

“Lady Penelope?” Scott and Gordon’s voices intertwined, although one displayed considerably more anxiety than the other.

“Lady Penelope, what’s happened to John?” demanded Scott. John could almost see the withering glare he gave their younger brother, almost daring him to speak.

“John’s not… he’s been…”

“Kidnapped by the ‘ood,” cut in Parker. “Begging your pardon, m’lady.”

A loud thump.

“I told you we should take it seriously,” hissed Alan.

“How was I to know it wasn’t his stupid AI being the devil incarnate again?”

“I said it wasn’t me!”

“What information can you give us?” Virgil’s voice was low and calm. John could almost feel his warm hand dropping on his shoulder, his eyes intent and serious.

“I don’t know where John is,” said Penelope, letting out a shaky breath. “But we’ve just destroyed a frequency jammer that was affecting all our communications, and there are three devices slowly cutting through the cables holding up the infrastructure of the hotel. We have nearly 300 civilians that need help now.”

A splutter of outrage came through the earpiece.

“John–”

“Don’t argue with me, Scott Tracy,” Penelope snapped. “Do not think for a second I don’t care about your brother because I do. The Hood wants something from him specifically, he’s not in any immediate danger. But we have experienced altitude shifts from a loss of tension twice in the last forty-five minutes, and we cannot afford to wait much longer.”

“She’s right,” murmured Virgil.

There was an awful silence. John held his breath.

“Thunderbird One and Thunderbird Shadow are our fastest planes,” said Scott. “Kayo, let’s move. Gordon, you and Alan, get up the hotel specs up in the comm sphere, start running timeframe simulations. We need to get those people out of that building.”

“I’ve forward you boys all the information I can.”

“Virgil, can you–”

His stomach in his mouth.

Wind whistling in his ears, drowning out the words.

A drop in altitude, a spike in terror.

He groaned as his body jolted in the harness, the fall abruptly ended with cruel laughter from above. Slowly the mechanical wings retracted and again gravity overcame him. A numb jolt shot up his legs and he crumpled to the hard tarmac. The fall was only a few feet high, but it was enough to cause serious ground shock which slammed through his nerves like a lightning bolt.

John looked up, squinting in the harsh sunlight.

Above him, the Hood and his henchmen circled like vultures, almost lazy in their descent. They would never be able to reach him if he could make a break for it.

‘If’ very much being the operative word.

John looked around him. The mountainous landscape cut off any obvious escape routes. There was a car nearby, evidently left for them to use as a getaway for the next phase of transport. Black, hard top, driver’s seat on the left. He noted the make and model before checking over the sprained wrist he’d sustained as he’d fallen forwards. He grimaced as he tested its range of motion, thanking his lucky stars he was right handed. Gingerly, he dabbed at scrapes beneath his torn dress trousers, doing his best to clean them.

He risked a glance upwards to see how many more precious few moments alone he would be given.

Hunched over his wounds, it was time to make a signal disruptor of his own. He needed a device that would draw attention not only to his existence, but his location. He huffed on his hands, his fingers still stiff and clumsy from the cold. A localised disturbance in the comms network would do it, he knew the precise frequencies that the comms would be operating on and would be able to target a destructive pattern much more efficiently that the broad spectral disruption that the Hood’s device had used. And if he could code a message into the pattern of disruption, all the better.

‘If they can find it.’ He pushed the thought away. His brothers were still chattering in his ear, their focus on the rescue at hand and unaware of his eavesdropping. He knew they were close by, close enough that the comms would record the disruption even if they weren’t looking for it. He just had to hope someone would at least note the regularity of the anomaly when they reviewed the mission logs. He tried not to think about the fact that that someone was usually him.

He had to trust his brothers.

The binary of Morse code made it easy to incorporate, able to be read through the on/off of the signal disruption. They could all recognise a simple SOS message, it had been one of the first rescue lessons their father had drilled into them from childhood. He set the signal to repeat.

Rough hands pulled John upright and he stood on shaky legs that struggled to hold his weight. His adrenaline level was decreasing rapidly, and the resulting shock was beginning to crash his system.

“Get him in the car,” said the Hood, barely glancing at John. “Move quickly, International Rescue will fly over this region soon enough and I want us long gone before they get a sniff of this place.”

“Yes boss.”

John was frogmarched to the back seat and strapped into place. He hadn’t sat in a middle seat since before his first growth spurt and he shifted uncomfortably with his knees around his ears.

“I want something from you, John Tracy.” The Hood sounded bored, merely reciting a daily script with a stranger. “It is a mistake to say I need it. All I want is for you not to have it.”

A soft click drew John’s attention. The cold impression of a barrel against his ribs left him certain of the Hood’s intent. The blood pounded in his ears, the mental instructions he sent to calm his heart rate unheeded by his body.

“I am not concerned how I get it.” John could see the man’s cold, glittering eyes in the rear view mirror. “Do we understand each other, John?”

John licked at his dry lips. His voice was merely a rasp and he hated himself for betraying such an obvious physical reaction.

“We do,” he whispered.

“Excellent.”

John was feeling dizzy. The reality of his situation flashed through his mind, sudden images of being thrown from the hotel, forced out of the sky, the gun that was pressed into his side. He closed his eyes. Faintly, he thought he could hear Alan’s excited voice, his words indistinct as hysteria threatened to overwhelm him.

He couldn’t give that level of satisfaction to his worst enemy.

He wouldn’t allow his emotions to control his responses.

He needed a cool head and all his wits about him if he were to get out of this mess.

The car was speeding along the mountain road, isolated with nobody nearby for miles.

He opened his eyes. Alan was still talking into his ear.

“Guys, I know that’s John.”

“What, so the comm signal drops off nearby and you immediately assume it’s John?” scoffed Gordon. “It happens, alpine regions are always sketchy. It’s back now anyway.”

“Exactly,” said Alan. “Signals that drop off don’t just come back. It’s not random noise either, look at this projection of signal strength. And it’s moving.”

“Kayo, go check it out,” ordered Scott. “It may be nothing, but let’s not take chances. Virgil and I can finish up here, we’re almost done.”

“FAB Scott.”

“Alan, try to make contact. If it is John, I want confirmation of his situation.”

A high pitched frequency assaulted him. Audio feedback, a misplaced connection in the radio receiver and John yelped, bringing his hands up to protect his ears.

He froze, eyes watering.

“Pull. over.”

The Hood’s voice was as silk, a smooth, low, furious sound that demanded obedience.

John didn’t move, didn’t dare draw attention to the radio embedded in his jacket. He could lose the earpiece, despite the anguish it would cause to lose a stable connection to his family. Without the radio itself, their link to him would be destroyed.

Rough hands grabbed at his arm, ignoring the sharp cry as his injured wrist bore his weight as he was hauled from the car.

A hard shove sent him sprawling.

“Get him up,” said the Hood. “Stop wasting my time.”

Revulsion rose from John’s stomach as the Hood stepped closer. His head jerked away, only to be captured in the Hood’s other hand, yanking his ear down to eye level.

“A speaker,” he muttered, plucking the earpiece from its place. He lifted it to his own ear, cocking an eyebrow at the voices that emanated from it.

“So, you’re in contact with them. Clever. And yet you haven’t alerted them to your whereabouts?”

John said nothing.

“There must be a receiving unit. Presumably a transmitter as well – ah! A textile radio, how delightful. Did Brains cook this up for you? But of course he did.”

The jacket was ripped from his body, leaving John shivering in the mountain air.

“How does this work, John? No, don’t tell me. Brains’ inventions are always so intuitive. Very convenient in an emergency, wouldn’t you say John?”

He threw the earpiece back at one of the henchmen holding him in place.

“Best give this part back, we don’t need it.”

The man hesitated.

“Get a move on,” growled the Hood.

John flinched as the earpiece was replaced, his head filled again with the sounds of his family calling to each other back and forth.

The Hood fingered the lapel thoughtfully.

“I can open a transmission to them. Should I do that John? Let them know how helpless you are? How helpless they are?”

“Thunderbird Five calling unknown operator, come in please.”

“They’ll find me. They won’t stop searching.”

“Such faith in family.” The Hood peered into John’s eyes. “Do you really believe that? Surely you recall their past failures. Their prejudices. Their arrogance.”

“We have received an SOS from your location. Please respond.”

He leaned closer.

“John, if you’re out there, give us a sign. Anything. Please.”

Alan’s voice broke. John could hear the shuffling motion of a brother pulling another close. Gordon’s calm, steady voice took over the call.

“You’re about to find out what I learnt long ago. Family lets us down. Family leaves us behind. Family don’t look forever.”

John’s heart thudded in his chest. The Hood’s lips twisted into a cruel smile, a knife twisting in the wound he’d just dealt.

“Of course, you already know that.”

>>>“Dad, we need you.”

>>> “Dad, we won’t stop looking.”

>>> “Dad, please.”

>>> “…”

>>> “Dad, they need me. They need Thunderbird Five.”

>>> “Scott says we have to stop.”

>>>“Dad, I think he’s right.”

John knew. John remembered.

The Hood opened the channel.

“Wait, wait Scott, we have a connection.”

“Can he hear us?”

“John? John?!”

“Anything you’d like me to pass on, John?”

The Hood smiled, a triumphant figure.

“Last chance.”

“Go to hell.”

He laughed, fingers playing on the edge of the jacket lapel.

Twenty-two thousand miles above them, his laugh echoed across a suddenly silent space station.

[Part 3]

[caressavincent]

Woo, so i’m going WAY BACK with this character (like to the first time I ever opened this group), but I randomly logged into her account one day and read over some of her stuff and was like “I need to bring her back around!”  Through the openings i’ve messed with her, changed both her name and position on the island, but for this reboot i’m going back to basics (except the name - still keeping it as it’s been).  I didn’t delete her older posts just because they all pertained to Eros, so just ignore everything after this intro!  I ramble, it’s sometimes a bitch, and suck at intros so let’s do this!  If you’d like to plot her up hit me up and we can make it happen!  I swear she’s a fun one!  Alright, alright, intro under the cut!

Did I just see CAMILA MENDES walking on the beach? Nevermind, it was just 19-year-old, BISEXUAL, CARESSA VINCENT. I heard the ASSET is quite ALLURING but also DEMANDING. SHE seems to enjoy BODY WORSHIP, but don’t try BATHROOM PLAY with this one. They’re hoping to be claimed by ANYONE who preferably looks like ANYONE

Caressa comes to Eros as an asset, though it’s hard to realize considering she acts like a mistress who owns the damn place.  She comes from money, both of her parents heavy into politics, and was born and raised with a silver spoon in her mouth.  Her parents were absent from a lot of her life, relying on nannies to teach her basics and give her affection, but what the parents lacked in actual involvement they made up for in a revolving credit account.  No matter what she wanted, when she wanted it, it was hers within a day (because sometimes those bigger requests took a little longer than immediate).  She had everything she could ever want though still felt utterly alone and insignificant, and then came high school.

For Caressa school wasn’t terrible, growing up she made the grades to at least keep herself somewhere near the middle of her class (blending in on paper while she stood out in person), and honestly the only reason she even kept up with her academics was so she could be on all the little sports teams that elementary schools have.  She wanted to hang out with her friends and extra-curricular activities provided that, so she did them all - and come to find out she was pretty damn good at them.  In high school though, things started to change for her and athletics weren’t her biggest concern, a night of partying and lost virginity her freshman year (yikes) opened her eyes to a whole new world - one that she’d soon become addicted to.

Sex was amazing, and seeing what others would do just to have an opportunity to roll around in the sheets with her was even better.  She could manipulate and make things happen beyond her wildest dreams just because some desperate student wanted her in the filthiest of ways (and who could blame them given how she strutted around the school and showed off every last curve).  The sex wasn’t enough though, and as school went on she started partying more, hanging out with the wrong crowds outside of school - what made this terrible was that being that her parents were so far into politics and public offices Caressa was becoming bad for business.  Pictures would be plastered in the papers about the Senator’s daughter being up to no good, partying too hard to hanging drunkenly off of someone who no doubtedly was taking her home, and that’s when the parents tried to step in - though they’d been of no use to her growing up so why start now right?

Knowing that it pissed them off, her behavior that is, she did it even more!  Her father didn’t deserve to be a Senator, to be adored by people throughout the state of NY, he was a no good loser for all she cared.  What kind of man does NOTHING with his daughter her entire life but still tries to parade the family around like they’re perfect infront of the cameras?  Caressa hated being his pawn, only ever getting any attention / affection from him if/when there was an event that he needed her to be at.  She was done playing nice, smiling when she had to, or better yet having to take out sons of men in power her father had to impress - he pulled her into a lot of shit that no girl her age should have to do, all to remain in his seat as Senator, with no regard of how fucked up his actions were making his daughter.

With it being a re-election year Caressa has ONE goal, and that’s to see that her father is taken down a peg and loses his seat.  She goes at it with hearts desire, doing all that she can to tarnish his good name, and that’s when it happens - he shuts her off, all her money gone in an instant (because let’s be real the girl hasn’t worked a day in her life), and forces her out of the picture (politics are quite dirty after all and no doubt even the nicest of Senators have goons to do their bidding).  His own daughter was ran out of town, on her ass with nothing more than a bag with a few possessions, but nothing of actual worth.  She made due though, once again resorting to using her body to get money, or even just a place to sleep the night through.  She was far enough away from NY by now that nobody recognized her, it was as though she just ceased to exist (her father weaving some story about how she was sick and at home unable to see the public or some shit - he really was a venomous man).

She was getting exhausted from running though, she’d had enough of it, having to use herself for a new place each night - she wanted at least a little normalcy, and that’s when someone mentioned Eros.  She’d never heard of such a place, but given what she was doing now she figured it’d be safer, and considering it’s on an island that just made it all the more exciting.  For her it’d be like a vacation, a getaway until all this stupid shit with her father blew over, because honestly her expectations were that he’d come to his senses and eventually give her back all that she wanted - the money.  She would just have to buy her time until that happened, after all he couldn’t keep lying to the public forever could he?  Caressa agreed to be an asset, but fuck if she’s going to enjoy it now that she’s here.

Personality wise, since i’ve basically talked only a little about it, now that she’s on the island is quite all over the place I guess i’d say?  She hates being an asset, and had her father not shut her off she’d had come here no problem as a Mistress (she still swears one day she’ll be back and the tables will turn once he’s smartened up and welcomed her home).  She hates being bossed and ordered around, or at least she does by most people, there are those few who do it just right to get her weak in the knees.  Honestly, secretly the girl loves to be dominated, she’s got daddy issues and if you exploit them she’ll be putty in your hands.  She wants attention, she wants to be put on a pedestal, and thinks of herself as the best and expects those in her life to do the same (they don’t and it’s hilarious).  She’s not a total bitch though, she can be quite fun, there are times when the lack of control just get to her - the girl, who used to have it all, has nothing and has to fight for scraps now just to get out of the Hub.  She certainly is not where she envisioned herself, and for that it’s both amusing and heart-wrenching.  She’s all over the place, has her mood swings, but overall is an amazing fucking girl who just wants to be loved and blah, blah, blah, you get the rest right?

Hit me up to plot, I swear she’ll be worth your time!