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purplekoop · 8 months

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I'm taking the 4 hero reveals of varying degrees from Overwatch this weekend as a personal challenge to now showcase all at once every single War Bots character I'm currently seriously considering to be a part of the final roster. For those who missed my earlier posts on the project, the tentative title "War Bots" refers to an original hero/class shooter concept created by myself, starring a wide cast of robots with an arsenal of interchangeable weapons, body parts, and accessories, who fight out over objectives against other teams of bots, or against hordes of mutant plants over the post-human earth they both inhabit.

War Bots, like I said before, has a whole 5 categories of character in its roster: Damage, Control, Tank, Utility, and Support. The current goal is to have 4 characters in each role, so 20 characters total. As of now though, I only have art to show for a little more than half of that. This art is also varying degrees of "rough" and far from any professional standard, so pardon the dust there.

All that said, let's start with the Damage bots:

As you might expect, Damage bots excel in direct combat, and when played well can typically be expected to win a fight on equal ground against other roles. They may be overwhelmed in group encounters, but they can be relied on to get the first pick to get a team fight started.

From left to right, there's the small but fearsome spring-loaded vigilante Wilderoad, the battle-worn tactical commander Calber, and the bombastic young daredevil Poppett.

Wilderoad is a generalist fighter with a solid balance of damage, range, and mobility that's easy to use but hard to master, and can be useful in just about any fight. Their revolver excels at medium-range, and while they tend to be a relatively honest fighter, they have a few tricks up their sleeves thanks to their spring-loaded limbs, allowing for long-range punches and springy steps to quickly evade danger.

Calber is a long-ranged specialist, armed with one out of an arsenal of rifles that can scope down for deadly precision from a distance. As a tactical commander, his abilities also can benefit his team, from area-denying flaming artillery strikes to long-range recon to anticipate incoming enemies. Calber tends to struggle in close-quarters encounters however, due to his low health and his movement options being limited compared to other Damage bots.

Poppett is one of the most mobile characters out of the entire cast, armed with dynamic roller-bladed feet and a weapon that fires close-range explosive rounds to wreak havoc when she gets in on a target. While her weapon's limited range is a defining weakness, her mobility allows her to get in and out with little issue, and her accessory options allow for a variety of team support tools that can function outside of her weapon's effective range, from a gummy explosive that can slow down enemies to a sudsy grenade that can both cleanse certain debuffs from allies and temporarily short-circuit enemy machines.

Together, these three create a gradient of long range, medium range, and close range experts, all of which can customize their loadout choices to further specialize in their niche. Calber for instance can change his standard rifle for an assault rifle that trades range for fire rate, or a sniper rifle that lets him take down enemies from an even longer distance.

Next up is the Control bots:

Control bots specialize in area denial, commanding sections of the map with area-based damage in unique ways. While one weakness or another prevents them from securing kills as easily as Damage bots, they excel at putting pressure on the enemy team nonetheless. Their ability to fight multiple targets at once is also invaluable in the fights against plantoid hordes.

I've got two to share with you today: the reckless pyrotechnics expert Yanno, and the ruthless ecologist-turned-toxicologist Velenna.

Yanno is equipped with a fireworks launcher of his own design, which he uses in combat to dramatic effect, devastating enemies in the colorful blasts of every rocket. He can also have a rocket burst while inside of the launcher's chamber, creating a conical blast that can launch enemies or himself. His special blast-resistant boots also allow him to propel himself into the air with (relative) safety, and his armor makes him more resilient than he looks at first. He can also lob a mortar ball to ward away enemies in an area, or else be subject to a debilitating debuff, such as having their position be revealed through walls or making them temporarily take even more damage from attacks.

Velenna is a much more stern threat, using special chemical compounds designed to eat away at metal as well as organics to torment bots and plants just as efficiently. Her Herbicide Sprayer shoots a plume of toxic gas that rapidly damages enemies in its range, and builds up a lingering Toxin debuff that eats away at their health even after they leave the spray itself. Velenna can expedite the process with her sprayer's alternate fire, Reactant Grenade, which fires a small projectile that makes the enemy take their buildup of toxin damage all at once if it hits. Velenna can extend the area she controls with her Auto-Fumigator, a stationary device that makes a constant spray of toxic gas in an area until destroyed. The exact properties of her toxins can be adjusted to allow for a variety of ways to make her victims suffer, which can be mixed and matched with her other abilities for all manner of experimentation.

While these are the only Control characters I have ready to show today (another one needs some work on his kit and the other doesn't have the art extend to his feet so he'd look dumb in this format), know that AoE attacks aren't the only things that make a Control character function, but it is the commonality between these two eclectic "visionaries".

Moving further down the spectrum of raw damage to team support, next is the Tanks:

Tanks are the biggest and highest-health bots of the entire cast, both traits they use in addition with their abilities to be the stalwart defenders of their team, holding the line against enemy advances and putting pressure on the frontline in turn.

Again, I only have two ready to show today: the boisterous minigun-wielding captain Navea, and the slow-going expert on construction and destruction, Formann.

Navea boasts high health and even higher damage output, the latter thanks to her handheld Artillery Minigun. While it takes time to rev up, and limits her mobility while revved and firing, it boasts some of the highest damage output in the cast at close range, and its hitscan rapid-fire nature lets her at least pressure enemies at farther ranges as well. This damage output goes into charging up her Booster Beacon, which provides one of several buffs to Navea and any nearby teammates, allowing for big offensive pushes or big defensive saves. In its downtime, she can also use her Arm Guards to block incoming damage, or use them as a melee weapon to knock some sense into the enemy personally.

Formann has the highest health of the cast, and while his slow, easygoing nature can be presumed based on the animal he resembles, he can be a force to be reckoned with if taken lightly. His weapon, the cement cannon, can output bursts of damage with either shotgun-like blasts or arcing globs of liquid cement, which with decent accuracy can slow down an enemy, letting Formann catch up and be in his ideal range for a further followup. When outside of that range, he can instead deploy a Barricade Frame, a stationary wire-frame wall that can act as temporary cover. He can even activate the small wheels on the side of the frame to let the frame move forward, letting his team advance behind it safely. He can even apply his own cement to it to increase the damage it can take, though at the cost of removing the ability for allies to shoot through it. On the other hand (pun intended) is his Wrecker Arm, a steel ball on a chain that he can sling out to send enemies flying backwards, or deal massive damage to enemy buildings.

Tanks are certainly a tricky archetype to get right, so my plans for additional tanks have been heavily in flux for a while now. I want characters that not only don't feel like carbon copies of existing characters in other games, but also don't step on the toes of any other character in this cast, too.

Next up is a unique role, the Utility bots:

Utility is the wildcard role, with the overarching goal to help their team in a number of unique ways without being the best at raw damage, area denial, damage denial, or healing, though all of these things are available from one Utility bot or another. This broad expertise is also exemplified with their loadout options changing their playstyles and capabilities more drastically than most other bots, possibly completely changing their role on the team with a simple change in weapon or accessory choice.

Once again, I only have two to share today: the whimsical master of powers unknown, Sorsier, and the wily master of cold-hard engineering, Xenir.

Sorsier utilizes a mysterious power to unleash a variety of potent abilities, with the most versatile set of options in the entire cast. Sorsier's default staff can fire a modest stream of projectiles effective in medium range, or lob the orb at its top and aim it after it's been fired to strike for a burst of damage. However, alternate staffs allow for scorching explosive attacks, devastating defense-reducing debuffs, or even full-on team healing capabilities. Sorsier's scarf lets them charge up an area-of-effect spell, such as a field of energy that restores ammo and recharges allies' abilities, or a pillar of earth that emerges from the ground to act as temporary cover or high ground. They even carry one of several types of potion, those offering their own manner of effects as well. Sorsier is versatile, but they are also frail, and lack any true movement options to get them out of a dire situation, so they require either careful positioning or additional team support to stay safe.

Xenir is the smallest bot in the cast, but makes up for their small stature by bringing in the backup with multiple types of deployable and upgradable buildings to bolster the entire team. Xenir alone is an unimpressive fighter, with only a modest pressurized Nail Gun for self defense, and the ability to dig underground to temporarily move faster and evade harm using their drill arms (guys I SWEAR I had this idea WAY before this weekend trust me). However, Xenir shines with their buildings, which they can build and upgrade using collected ammo packs as salvaged material. They can deploy a Sentry Cannon as an automatic mid-range source of damage, as well as a pair of Transport Tunnels to let allies get back to the fight in record time. These buildings can be individually exchanged for alternative options, like trading your automatic sentry for a manually controlled Tinkerer's Tank that Xenir can hop in and pilot, or trading the Transport Tunnels for a pair of Restock Depots that let you place your own health and ammo kits. Xenir takes care in both managing your resources and picking your fights, but can let his team be an unstoppable force if played well.

The breadth of the Utility category is only displayed so well with half of its intended lineup ready to show, but this role is perhaps my favorite in terms of the exciting possibilities it provides.

Last but very much not least, the Support bots:

Support bots are the experts in aiding teammates, with strong, reliable healing output being standard across the role, along with strong utility to save allies from dire situations or give them a more aggressive advantage in a fight.

The final three bots for today are an elementally-inclined trio, with the hot-tempered speedy mechanic Burnett, the electromagnetic gentle combat medic Ezela, and the reborn cyborg arbalist Arber.

Burnett's estimated repair time is as short as her temper for nonsense, with a drive to work fast and move fast. Her Repair Welder can scorch an unwary enemy, but it excels at repairing allies much faster, with one of the highest healing outputs in the cast balanced by limited range and uptime. She can also fire a glob of ignited fuel from a distance for an alternate attack she calls the "Hot Shot". If she's out of welder fuel, then she can fix dented allies in a pinch with a good ol' Wrench Swing. Her fuel isn't just good for powering her welder, as it also lets her use her Booster Gear, which lets her charge up and release a burst of forwards speed, letting her navigate the battlefield with even greater haste than her normal above-average movement speed. She can also put spare Scrap she collects from healing enemies to use by repurposing it into Bolster Packs, throwable collectibles that give allies temporary bonus health. She can also trade out the Bolster packs for alternate team-support throwables to make with Scrap.

Ezela is a more conventional style of healer, with very low direct damage output but constant, reliable healing output. Ezela constantly emits a Recharge Field that slowly heals all nearby allies, but this can be channeled through the electrical node on her right hand, the Focus Coil, to make a targeted beam of electricity that heals allies at a faster rate. Her other arm's Coil Beam fires a beam at a different frequency, letting her damage enemies. The damage is slow and limited in range, but can bypass certain defensive abilities and is easy to aim. By healing allies, Ezela can also charge up an Electron Shield, which provides a temporary spherical shield that can protect either Ezela herself or an ally, depending on whether or not she has a Focus Coil target. Ezela can also evade harm using Surge Dash, a technique that focuses the electromagnetic energy keeping her afloat to quickly lunge into any direction. Overall, Ezela is for the most unselfish of teammates, while also requiring above-average positional and situational awareness to make the most of her talents.

Finally for today is Arber, a one-of-a-kind hybrid of plant and machine that was a result of a miraculous fluke in survival. Arber uses a humble crossbow to fire unique techno-organic bolts that repair allies and damage enemies. Each shot boasts solid range before arcing, and does a solid amount of either damage or healing. However, by pulling back the crossbow a second stage, its power is increased, flying faster, farther, and with more power to its effect. Arber can also utilize his unique symbiotic nature to unleash a Vine Shot, firing a cable-like vine that can ensnare enemies it hits, slowing their movements and restricting movement-based abilities. He also has access to a a seed which he can throw to plant a Mending Bud, a friendly plant creature that emits healing spores, gradually healing allies in its range. Arber is a high-impact healer, but he has notably more downtime and less mobility than other options. While alternate kit options let him address these weaknesses, it comes at the cost of one of his existing strengths in range, burst output, or utility.

WHEW! Let's give one last round of applause to all 12 of the bots who came out here tonight!

A motley crew indeed, these bots all have to work together to protect their rebuilt world from falling into ruin once again. And while this is the bulk of the cast (at least based on what I have in mind), rest assured that there's more to meet in the future.

Thanks a ton to anyone who's read this far down to the end. I'm really excited about this project, and even if it doesn't amount to anything, I at least want it to be a cool idea I get to share. Stay tuned for more in-depth character breakdowns, story details, and insights into other parts of the (hopeful, eventual) game.

#koop's oc stuff #war bots

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grailfinders · 3 years

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Fate and Phantasms #184

Oh shit we’re a day late. Sorry. Now that Summer’s over, Fate and Phantasms is heading out to Shimousa, starting with the Archer of Inferno! You know the deal by this point; true name spoilers and build breakdown below the cut, character sheet over here, but still expect a little bit of spoilage because you can’t spread out a character over 20 levels and not spoil a bit about them.

Next up: I thought the ghost of an occultist driving a car made by a talking lion would be the most convoluted character design for a while. I was wrong.

Tomoe Gozen is a Battle Master Fighter to talk with her fists and throw people around as well as a Hunter Ranger to get her fiery arrows and to specialize in fighting massive crowds.

Race and Background

Tomoe is kind of halfway between an oni and a human, never quite at home in either world. Thankfully that’s exactly what Tieflings are as well, so getting her race is pretty easy. As a Mephistopheles Tiefling she gets +1 Dexterity and +2 Wisdom, Darkvision for night raids, Hellish Resistance to fire damage (it would be awkward if you died to your own inferno), and the Legacy of Cania. This gives you the Mage Hand cantrip immediately, with one casting of Burning Hands and Flame Blade with your Charisma per long rest at third and fifth level respectively.

As the wife of a Lord, you’re the definition of a Noble, giving you proficiency with History and Persuasion. People just like you, y’know?

Ability Scores

Step one; Dexterity. You’re an archer, this shouldn’t come as a surprise that this is pretty high. (I mean I say that, but there’s ton of archers that don’t use bows, so...) Anyways, second is Strength. You throw people around like sacks of potatoes, so you gotta be pretty good at lifting them. Go with Wisdom as your third highest ability. Large scale battles are hectic, you’ve got to have a sharp eye to do your best work in them. Your Constitution isn’t half bad, oni tend to be able to take a beating. Your Intelligence isn’t that high purely because we need other stuff more, so we’re dumping Charisma. You’re a bit awkward no matter which side of the family you’re talking to.

Class Levels

Ranger 1: Starting off as a ranger gives you plenty of goodies, including plenty of proficiencies, like Strength and Dexterity saves, plus three skills; Insight and Perception to read your enemies and Athletics to make it easier to haul them around. First level rangers also become Deft Explorers, which makes you Canny with athletics. That doubles your proficiency bonus for extra oni strength when you push and pull objects. You can also set a Favored Foe as a bonus action, dealing an extra d4 of damage once per turn after hitting them with an attack. You can do this proficiency times per long rest, and the damage grows as you level up.

Ranger 2: At second level, you gain the Archery fighting style for an extra +2 to your ranged attack rolls. The archer class is really made up of archers, huh? You also learn how to cast Spells using your Wisdom to cast them. Theoretically. You don’t actually have any spells that bother with that. At first level you can use Longstrider to move around the battlefield easier and Absorb Elements to add a little bit of fire to your arrows immediately. That helps less than the other elements since you’re already resistant to fire damage, but we suffer for our art here. Well, you do.

Ranger 3: Making it all the way to third level without burning out grants you entrance to a shiny new conclave, and the Hunter conclave turns you into a Horde Breaker when you take the subclass, specializing you towards dealing with large groups. Once per turn you can make an extra attack, as long as your second target is within 5′ of the first. You also gain Primal Awareness, letting you Speak with Animals. I don’t think anything in canon says you can do this, but your event is one of the only times we hear the servant animals talk, so I’m counting it. You also learn how to cast Zephyr Strike, speeding yourself up and possibly dealing extra damage at the same time. Controlling your spacing is vital when it comes to dealing with tons of enemies.

Ranger 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to bump up your Strength for stronger punches. They’ll get even stronger in a second, don’t worry.

Fighter 1: Bounce over to fighter for the Unarmed Fighting fighting style. Now your punches deal 1d6 damage (or 1d8 if you have both free) and you can deal damage to grappled creatures at the start of your turn. You also get a Second Wind, which will heal you as a bonus action.

Ranger 5: We’re done multiclassing for a while, since heading back over to ranger will net you an Extra Attack each action. Now you’ve got two attacks against one target, or three if you can use horde breaker. You also learn second level spells, like Beast Sense and Enhance Ability. I don’t think you’re strong enough yet, so that latter spell will give you advantage on strength checks for the duration. (Or a target creature advantage on any one kind of checks, that’s just the most in-character option.)

Ranger 6: At sixth level Favored Foe grows to a d6, and you also become Roving, which increases your speed and lets you climb and swim without slowing down.

Ranger 7: Seventh level rangers will find it a lot easier to Escape the Horde, forcing disadvantage on all opportunity attacks against you. Right now you’ve still got to keep your distance from your enemies to use your bow and arrow, so this will help. You can also cast Aid to increase your maximum HP along with that of a couple of friends for something that will really excitate your whole lineage.

Fighter 2: Bouncing back to fighter gets you an Action Surge for two actions per turn once per short rest. Now you get up to five attacks in a turn thanks to Horde Breaker and your extra attack.

Fighter 3: If we keep on trucking we’ll hit third level, which is where things get really spicy. As a Battle Master, you get four Combat Superiority d8s per short rest, and you can add one per attack to attack you make, dealing extra damage and adding effects to the blow. Technically. Only one of your maneuvers actually deals with attacks, but that’s Pushing Attack, which will do a lot of work for you. When you hit a creature you deal extra damage, and if they’re smaller than Huge and fail a strength save, they get pushed 15 feet away. Your other maneuvers are Evasive Footwork, adding the d8 to your AC while you move to make fighting you even harder, and Tactical Assessment, adding the die to an Investigation, History, or Insight check. We might not have been able to make you smart, but this should cover whatever tactics you need. You’re also a Student of War, giving you proficiency in any one artisan’s tools. Pick your fave, you’re not exactly Hokusai.

Fighter 4: Our last level in fighter grabs the Crusher feat for +1 Strength and once per turn you can push someone an extra 5 feet as long as they’re large or smaller. Also, critical bludgeoning hits give all attacks against their target advantage until you start your next turn. Now you can fling someone 20′ away, and while that technically doesn’t let you throw them in the air I’d allow it. Honestly, if someone’s moving that far away their feet have got to be leaving the ground at some point.

Ranger 8: Going back to Ranger for good now gets another ASI right away, and Gunner is a weird feat to pick, but hear me out. It’s basically the crossbow expert feat, but it trades that bonus action attack for a +1 to Dexterity, which is way more useful since you don’t use a hand crossbow. You also get proficiency with and can ignore loading on firearms, but most D&D games don’t have those anyway, so it’s fine to be a bit out of character. The real good reason we’re here is to ignore disadvantage on your ranged attacks if people are near you. Archery and brawling don’t normally go together, now they do. You also get Land’s Stride so you can move through difficult terrain easier and have advantage on saves against magical terrain. You leave a lot of corpses around in Shimousa, but this’ll help you keep your footing in that demiplane of skulls you do your boss fight in.

Ranger 9: Ninth level rangers get third level spells, like your Primal Awareness spell Speak with Plants. That might sound totally out of character, but it turns out there’s a legit reason for it: Hey look over there, it’s Flame Arrows! Finally, you can dip 12 arrows into fiery goodness, and each one deals an extra 1d6 fire damage on a hit. You’ve got up to an hour to use all of them, but it also takes concentration so don’t get too attached.

Ranger 10: Tenth level rangers are Tireless, letting you heal yourself with temporary HP as an action Proficiency times per day, and you heal exhaustion on short rests. Some people call that inhuman, I call it efficient. Gilgamesh wishes he had what you do. You can also use Nature’s Veil to turn invisible for a round as a bonus action Proficiency times per long rest. Think of it like a smoke bomb. Or a wildfire bomb. Just set things on fire, hide in the fire, done.

Ranger 11: At eleventh level, hunters can let out a Volley of ranged attacks, letting you attack every creature within a 10′ radius of a point you can see. Technically, this means you can pump out up to 50 attacks per round thanks to Action Surge, assuming a lot of creatures are dumb enough to clump up next to each other. 51, sorry, Horde breaker’s still there. To make getting into position easier you also learn the UA spell Flame Stride, negating opportunity attacks, bumping your speed up by 20 feet, and dealing fire damage to nearby creatures when you run by them. It also explicitly sets items on fire, so now we know how you caused so much damage in Shimousa.

Ranger 12: Use this ASI to round up your Strength and Dexterity for stronger punches, tougher punch saves, better arrows, and a higher AC. A banner level for you.

Ranger 13: Your new fourth level spell from Primal Awareness, Locate Creature is way easier to justify than the last one. You just know where the enemy general is located, even in the thick of battle. We’re basically building a Dynasty Warriors character at this point, aren’t we? You also get Freedom of Movement, just in case you need to speed around the battlefield without setting stuff on fire. I know, it’s boring without the fire. You just have to make due for two more levels.

Ranger 14: Your Favored Foe grows again, and you can Vanish as a bonus action, hiding yourself without any way to track you, bar magic.

Ranger 15: Your final spell of the build will turn you into a mighty inferno that can burn down all of Shimousa! Well, not really, but if you Summon Elemental then Vanish away, it’s almost like you turned into a fire elemental, right? You can also Stand Against the Tide, using your reaction to redirect a missed melee attack at another creature. It’s really hard to hit you when you run away, so I suggest fishing for attacks of opportunity for extra damage.

Ranger 16: Use your final ASI to grab the Tough feat for an extra 40 HP. Onis, man. They’re hard to kill.

Pros:

You specialize in dealing with large groups of enemies, with plenty of ways to move through them and attack over large areas at once.

Working with your bow and fists means you’re never in a bad position in a fight. Hah hah, you ambushed the archer, I guess you’re just getting your skulls bashed in instead.

Your range and speed, combined with your punches’ pushing power, means you are great at choosing your fights. For the most part you can determine where and when you fight an enemy, giving you a pretty solid advantage. As long as your DM doesn’t make all the fights take place in a vacant plain somewhere.

Cons:

Your charisma is pretty dismal, so even if you have a plan in mind good luck getting people to follow it.

You’re also pretty unfocused, and I mean that in every sense of the word. You’d be a lot more consistent with damage if you only focused on punching or arrows, and since you’re specialized for bunches of weak enemies single bosses can be tricky.

Most of your magic damage is Fire, which is easy to resist. If you’re up against a demon or devil, you might just have a bad time.

#fate grand order #fgo #D&D 5e #dnd #Archer of Inferno #Fighter #Ranger

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wrestlingisfake · 3 years

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Best in the World preview

After getting confused about MLW Battle Riot, now I feel like I have to check to make sure all these shows are actually available to watch live!

Best in the World is $29.99 on Fite.tv, or $14.99 for Honor Club members, or free for Honor Club VIP members. (HonorClub is really only worth signing up for if you're already going hard for ROH.) The pre-show starts at 7pm EDT, and the main show begins at 8pm EDT.

Rush vs. Bandido - Bandido won the Survival of the Fittest tournament for the right to challenge Rush here for the ROH world title. Rush won the belt for the second time in February 2020 and, thanks to the pandemic, has only defended it three times since then. But this show kicks of Ring of Honor's return to live crowds, so maybe now we can get back to normal. This is the company's big chance to get the Rush era back on track, or to turn the page and start a new era with Bandido.

There really isn't anyone else like Rush in ROH. He just clobbers dudes, wins all the time, and looks like a star. He's not exactly Brock Lesnar, but he has an aura that makes him feel like he should be in a bigger company, and no one on this roster can carry his jock. I would figure the plan is to set up a rising young star to finally figure out how to beat this guy. Bandido would make sense in that role, but it's anyone's guess if that's the plan for him.

AEW wanted very badly to sign Bandido in early 2019, but he went with ROH instead because at the time no one knew if AEW was actually going to work. That gave ROH a huge opportunity to build their future around a top prospect AEW wanted but couldn't get. Instead Bandido spent the past few years lost in the shuffle with Lifeblood and the Mexisquad. I really feel like ROH dropped the ball with this guy. The fact he's suddenly on top now doesn't totally make up for that.

It's tough to pick a winner here. Rush is the logical favorite, but ROH might want to shake things up as they go back to doing shows in front of live crowds. An upset win for Bandido would create a lot of options for fresh title matches at upcoming shows. But if Rush retains, ROH will have the same problem Smackdown is having with Roman Reigns--how do you convince the audience that anyone is left that can beat this guy?

Jonathan Gresham vs. Mike Bennett - Bennett won a seven-man gauntlet to earn this match for Gresham's ROH pure championship. This title is contested under "pure wrestling rules," which basically limit rope breaks and add tighter restrictions on punches to the face and outside interference. Gresham is an expert at this type of match, whereas Bennett is new to the format.

Bennett (along with his wife Maria Kanellis) was a mainstay in ROH, and then had a decent little run in Impact before going to WWE as "Mike Kanellis." Everything went wrong with that WWE run, but at least that's led to Bennett receiving a lot of sympathy from fans as he picks himself up and keeps going. Since returning to ROH, Bennett has mainly been supporting Matt Taven in his feud. So this is an interesting way to get him spun off into his own thing.

The pure rules stuff doesn't do a lot for me, but I like the idea of a styles clash where one guy is completely out of his element. Gresham should wrestle rings around Bennett, but Bennett should be so tenacious that Gresham can't quite put him away. It wouldn't hurt Bennett to lose, although a Bennett title win would probably be such an insult to Gresham's pride that it could set up an intense long-term rivalry.

Honestly my main interest in this match is that I recently listened to a WARHORSE interview where he said he almost quit wrestling but Mike Bennett talked him out of it. So Bennett seems like a cool guy and I'm pulling for him.

Jay Lethal vs. Brody King - Back in March, King disrupted the feud between The Foundation and Los Faccion Ingobernable by introducing his own stable called Violence Unlimited. That's pretty much all there is to this match--it's just a Foundation guy and a VU guy facing off in the latest round of a three-way war.

It stands to reason that the winner of this match would move on to start something with LFI's leader, Rush. So unofficially this feels like a match to decide the next contender for the world title. However, Rush already defended the title against King in December and Lethal in February. So I don't know, maybe these two will just clobber each other and it won't matter who wins. That's how a lot of ROH matches feel to me, honestly.

Tracy Williams & Rhett Titus vs. Homicide & Chris Dickinson - Williams and Titus (of the Foundation) are defending the ROH tag team title. The challengers are representing Violence Unlimited. Dickinson came to ROH by way of teaming with Brody King on NJPW Strong, so he made good sense in King's ROH faction. Homicide was at the very first ROH show in 2002; before aligning with VU, it had been seven years since he appeared in the promotion.

This is another match where I can't get a feel for where things are headed, and I'm not sure it makes much difference. I guess my gut says they should put the title on the new team to get them over.

Tony Deppen vs. Dragon Lee - An injury forced Lee to vacate the ROH television title, which Tracy Williams won for the Foundation, who lost it to Violence Unlimited's Deppen, and now Lee wants to get it back for Los Faccion Ingobernable. Once again, I'm not sure it matters which guy ends up with the belt, but I'll go with Lee to win since the injury situation probably messed up their plans.

Shane Taylor & Moses & Kaun vs. Dalton Castle & Dak Draper & Eli Isom - Shane Taylor Promotions is defending the ROH trios title. Castle has been doing this weird passive-aggressive thing with Draper and Isom, so his latest move is to arrange this title shot behind their backs. It might be interesting to put the title on three guys who want championships but not with each other. But I'm fairly confident this just ends with Castle's team falling apart because he's a dick.

EC3 vs. Flip Gordon - When EC3 started here as a heel, he recruited Flip to help him fight Jay and Mark Briscoe; later as EC3 went babyface, he took exception to Gordon's cheating tactics. So now Flip is the target of all the weird cryptic multimedia presentations that EC3 likes to do for his opponents.

Flip used to be a beloved babyface, and it was just mildly amusing that he was a flat-earther in real life. Then he turned heel, and then he caught heat for complaining about face masks during the pandemic. So I'm pretty sure any goodwill Gordon had with the fans is gone by now. I don't see much upside in giving him the win now; pushing EC3 is the better bet for ROH.

Jay Briscoe & Mark Briscoe vs. PJ Black & Brian Johnson - I guess the Briscoes were having some issues but they've worked them out, so they're back in the hunt for the tag team title. Meanwhile Johnson seems to be getting frustrated under the mentorship of Black, and they're regrouping by making their own tag title run. Presumably the story of the match is that both teams want to be back on the same page, but only one of them really is. Pretty sure the Briscoes win this one.

Josh Woods vs. Silas Young - This is a "last man standing" match, so the match can only end when one participant is on the ground and cannot stand up again before the referee's ten-count.

Woods became Young's protege all the way back in September 2019, forming a tag team called, uh, "2 Guys 1 Tag." Right from the start I didn't expect that to last very long. But as it happened, what with the pandemic and all, Young didn't turn on Woods until March 2021.

You'd assume the point of all this would be to have Young put Woods over and establish Woods as a rising star for ROH's future. But it feels like every time ROH sets up something like this, they have the bitter old bully win to get heat. By the time they set up a rematch for the face to finally get vindication, I've usually given up and lost interest, which defeats the purpose of dragging the story out so long.

Demonic Flamita vs. Rey Horus - This is scheduled for the pre-show. Flamita, Horus, and Bandido were all in a trio called Mexisquad up until Flamita snapped and turned on the other two. Now he's "Demonic Flamita." I'm guessing the idea here is to give Flamita an impressive victory here to build up Bandido vs. Flamita to be a bigger deal.

PCO & Danhausen vs. The Beer City Bruiser & Brawler Milonas - This is also scheduled for the pre-show. PCO is basically a wrestling Frankenstein monster, but he's also Qubecer Pierre from the WWF in 1993, which still blows my mind. Danhausen is sort of like if Conan O'Brien played a character on What We Do In The Shadows. I like the idea of these two teaming up, and I hope it goes somewhere beyond prelim matches. I think the Bouncers (Bruiser and Milonas) turned heel when I wasn't paying attention, but that wouldn't be hard since I never pay attention to them. They should be easy pickings for PCOhausen.

#roh #ring of honor #best in the world #rush #bandido

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mangamushi · 3 years

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Thoughts on Saikyou Densetsu Kurosawa

FUKUMOTO Nobuyuki, 11 volumes, published from 2003 to 2006 in Big Comic Original (Seinen)

Saikyou Densetsu Kurosawa (Legend of the strongest man Kurosawa) follows the story of 44 years old construction worker Kurosawa as he realizes he spent most of his life without any meaningful connections with anyone nor any special achievements. He decides to change his life so that he can become proud of his own accomplishments and efforts, and earn respect and appreciation from the people around him.

(spoiler warning)

So I’m currently binging Fukumoto manga, after having them on my “plan to read” list for several years…I started with Kaiji, but initially the first manga of his that caught my interest was Kurosawa. The themes of it are right up my alley, and I like main characters that are not teenagers or young adults.

Kurosawa has a sequel, Shin Kurosawa: Saikyou Densetsu, which is a direct continuation. I’ll mostly be focusing on the first part here.

The art is typical Fukumoto style. Odd at first, definitely not the prettiest nor the most impressive out there, but it does the job and I really grew to like it. He doesn’t hesitate to give exaggerated features to his characters, and I actually find the deliberate ugliness of the character designs refreshing. It certainly fits the story of Kurosawa, makes the characters very expressive and works well with the often comedic tone.

Although the art looks simple, Fukumoto can deliver very intense pages when he needs to.

His forte is in his use of narration combined with the picture, rather than in the drawings alone. He is a master at using a narrator’s comments or the character’s thoughts to raise tension and make the manga flow better.

Kurosawa is definitely written with a lot of heart. Both the manga itself and the titular character, feel very genuine. Kurosawa is very flawed and very human. He is rough but powerful, his desires are simple, and he is straightforward in his reactions, to the point that his impulsive nature and lack of social restraints put him in trouble, especially when it comes to women...

There are a few instances however where he comes close to harassing women, which is played for laugh, which I disliked. Those scenes made me less sympathetic towards him as he actually deserved the repercussions of his actions here.

But besides those chapters, Kurosawa is overall a likeable character, easy to sympathize with and to root for as we see him at a low point of his life.

He is clumsy in his interactions with his coworkers, which, coupled with his hot-temper, often leads to misunderstandings and prevents him from getting closer to them despite his best efforts. I actually found Kurosawa’s failed attempts at achieving popularity reminiscent of Watamote. The beginning of both series, in which a pathetic main character fails repetitively at gaining the appreciation of their peers through outlandish strategies, elicits the same mixture of pity, second-hand embarrassment, and amusement.

Kurosawa also gets into a fair number of fights. While those fight-focused chapters were not bad, I was personally less into them.

Drawing literal fist-fights in not what Fukumoto’s best at. His character’s postures are somewhat stiff, which he compensates for with heavy use of speed-lines. It is okay-ish, but I want read a fight scene, there’s plenty of fighting manga out there that can do a better job.

I like Fukumoto more when he writes more psychological battles, like in his gambling mangas. Of course, psychological elements and strategies where not totally absent from the fights, but it was nowhere as much as in his gambling manga. Sometimes I think Kurosawa was a bit too lucky in the fights, as he is not a very athletic person nor someone with a lot of experience in fighting. It did not feel very convincing to me.

Besides, it is through these battles that Kurosawa gathers allies, a reputation and respect. But most of his opponents are teenagers, even middle-schoolers ! Granted they are very scary teenagers, but I still fail to see how a 44 years old man throwing hands with teenagers is such a praise worthy thing...

I think I prefer to see Kurosawa fight and struggle to improve his life in a less literal way that actual physical fighting.

I haven’t read that many of Fukumoto’s works yet, but I feel like an important theme in them is perseverance/resilience. He puts his characters through a lot, but they tend to have some form of resistance that shines through as admirable. Kurosawa’s will to fight and to push back against adversity is sometimes the only thing he has left, and it is extremely important.

However, that is not an innate ability that comes to him easily -at times Kurosawa hides, flees, cowers. He hesitates, and he needs to think things through before he actually decides to fight.

Fukumoto: You know how protagonists in shonen manga do things like jump in to stop their classmate from being bullied without thinking about how they might get beaten up themselves? I always felt that wasn’t real. So with Kurosawa, I wanted to make a manga that shows hesitation, and how it actually isn’t so easy to defend people like that.

(Excerpt from this interview)

I like this kind of manga where characters reflect about what is the right decision to take and on how they should be living their life. And how the reader has access to their inner turmoil and thoughts.

His strength is often born from sheer desperation and desire to survive. It is when he is cornered that he can manage to act and fight even when the odds are against him. He has to make do with the very few tools and options he has, which leads him to elaborate unconventional tactics to win over his opponents.

Having cornered underdogs characters winning over more powerful, but less desperate, opponents seems like a running theme in Fukumoto’s manga (cf. the made-up E-card Game from Kaiji, in which The Slave is the only card that can win against The Emperor, precisely because it is so low that it has nothing to lose anymore).

In a way, one could argue Kurosawa follows a formula reminiscent of classic shounen manga: a character who is below average at first rises to a heroic status through willpower, effort and after fighting a string of opponents. However, there are major differences that set Kurosawa apart, besides the older characters and more adult setting (Kurosawa’s worries are grounded in reality: growing old alone, financial problems...) Kurosawa does not provide escapism and dreams. The story begins with Kurosawa as a single old man, and ends with him an even older still single man. He does not become an amazing fighter through power boost and magic training like a shounen character might.

He does want to dream big, but all things considered, his achievements are fairly modest. He is not saving the world or becoming hokage. At most he is just helping some other marginalized people from his neighborhood.

Even if he puts his life on the line to fight, what he accomplished will fade into oblivion at some point.

But, even so, his efforts and struggle are still admirable.

Besides, Kurosawa is not about friendship, at least not the kind of friendship you find in shounen manga.

In Fukumoto’s manga, people may stick together for survival, they can share intense emotions when put through the same ordeals, but it’ll rarely turn into true companionship. Kurosawa is alone from the start, and while he does connect with other people throughout the story, in the sequel those relationships are left behind as he leaves on his own to start a new life.

Fukumoto: My protagonists, on the other hand, are always alone – not only do they not have followers, they don’t even have friends. (laugh) [...] I can’t do manga where the characters readily make friends that they risk their lives for. I started out by drawing short human drama pieces, but even then – partially because I wasn’t doing long-term series, but – they weren’t generally stories about friends.

I was kind of expecting Asai, one of Kurosawa’s coworker, to have a bigger role, but that didn’t happen. (I liked the part where he tried to comfort Kurosawa after he got humiliated so I was hoping for more!)

The story isn’t very cohesive or straighforward, it just follows Kurosawa’s life, who wants to change but lacks a clearly defined goal or road to follow. There isn’t one big coherent plot, instead the story goes in different directions, shifting from one genre to another from chapter to chapter. Kurosawa even admits it himself !

The quality of the chapters and different arcs is in my opinion rather uneven.

There are some really powerful scenes, notably the very end of the manga which is very touching. Kurosawa successfully leads a group of homeless men to defend themselves against some delinquents who were threatening them, but as a result of his injuries, he is implied to die. (The sequel manga reveals he actually just goes into coma for 8 years). It is bittersweet ending as he finally achieved something and is surrounded by human warmth.

Shin Kurosawa, the sequel, is similar to the first part, though slightly more light-hearted and focused on humor (even though Kurosawa’s situation technically worsens!). It seems to be less liked than the first part for those same reasons, but I personally enjoy Fukumoto’s humor and his more slice of life-y mangas. It has many genuinely funny moments. Once in a while there are still some chapters that feel deeper/more thought provoking, as Fukumoto likes to reflect about society, life, and humanity in his stories.

For anyone looking for other manga with similar themes, I can recommend Furuya Minoru’s excellent Wanitokagegisu . Both feature very lonely adult men who wish to turn their life around, and oscillate between humor and psychological drama.

#fkmt #saikyou densetsu kurosawa #fukumoto noboyuki #kurosawa #manga

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myaekingheart · 4 years

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115. Exalting the Comrade in Arms

read the scarecrow and the bell on ao3 index | from the beginning | < previous | next >

Rei sat at the kitchen table staring off into the distance, coming to terms with this new, sharp turn her life had taken. Kakashi glanced at her over his shoulder as he cleaned up dinner, throwing whatever leftovers they had in the fridge and wiping down the mess. Toshio followed dutifully behind, desperate for scraps. No longer able to deny him, Kakashi tossed the dog a stray noodle before securing the lid on the container and closing the fridge. When he looked back once more, Rei remained pensive. “Are you okay?” he finally asked. He knew she likely wasn’t, but at least she had stopped crying.

Nodding slowly, Rei murmured “Yeah…yeah, I’m alright.” Her mind focused less on her menstruation—it was over, there was nothing else to be done—and more now on what was to come the next morning. How could she possibly face Lady Tsunade after all of this? Did she even still want this? But she had already accepted the promotion—in a daze, yes, but accepted nonetheless. There was no way she could back out now. Besides, this was what the universe clearly wanted. If it hadn’t been, she never would’ve gotten her period. Fate made the decision for her, whether she liked it or not. Now all that was left to do was face this strange, new future. “Hey, Kakashi…?” she whispered after a long stretch of silence. Kakashi raised a brow, sitting beside her, giving her his undivided attention. “Can you…I mean, you’re more experienced with this than I am so, um…do you think you could give me some…advice?”

“Advice?” he repeated. Rei gave him an affirmative, pleading look. “What kind of advice?”

“I don’t know” Rei replied, “Just…tell me what it was like for you. Being captain, I mean. Were you scared? Did you ever feel like maybe they had made a mistake? How did you cope with the pressure?”

Kakashi sucked in a deep breath. He didn’t really want to think about the darkness that encumbered him back then, the emotionlessness of it all. He was so cold and unyielding. Truthfully, he never coped at all. He merely buried everything deep inside of himself, taking on the brunt of the responsibility with seemingly no issue only to take out his frustrations on others. He thought of the many he had killed, the corpses that littered the ground after each mission. Back then, he would not hesitate to kill anyone who so much as looked at him the wrong way. In retrospect, he couldn’t fathom how he could have ever been so cruel. His love for Rei had made him rather soft, he supposed. The thought of love, however, dug up nasty feelings about the way he handled himself back then. Nauseating memories of Konoha’s red-light district, of a woman in a satin negligee who he used and abused once a week. Things he never had the guts to admit to Rei. This woman had meant nothing to him, after all. She was only a vessel, an empty space, an object. And when he was finished and they’d lie together until her next client came in, all he could think about was Rei. That was his coping mechanism: taking his frustrations out on an innocent bystander and all the while imagining someone else. There was no way he could ever tell Rei of his transgressions. He was young and dumb and overflowing with unbridled angst. He would have to find a way around the truth to answer her question. He would, unfortunately, have to lie.

“Being a captain…” Kakashi started, “was a lot of responsibility. While I may have been skilled enough for the job, I don’t think I was emotionally prepared for it so I don’t think I coped as well as you will.” Okay, so perhaps it wasn’t a total lie. He did have faith in her ability to not only do this job but to do this job well. She had proven herself, hadn’t she? If Tsunade thought she was prepared, then who were they to question her judgment?

“I feel so pathetic for being scared” Rei replied.

“Well, this is a big step in your career” Kakashi assured her, resting a hand on her forearm. “You have every right to be nervous. If it means anything to you, though, I think you’re going to do just fine.”

Rei eyed him curiously, wanting to believe him, but it was so hard to take the compliment. “Do you really mean that, or are you only telling me that because you feel obligated to as my fiancé?” she then asked.

Kakashi leaned back, almost offended, and shook his head. “If I didn’t think you were cut out for this, I would tell you” he replied. “You know I would never let you step foot into something you were unprepared for, especially something that comes with so much danger.”

It was that word, danger, that stuck out to her the most. This was dangerous. A dangerous job and a dangerous new set of responsibilities. Every time she was put in charge of something, it seemed as if Rei attracted nothing but danger. Nothing but death and disaster. She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath as the image of Naru’s dead body flickered in the back of her mind. “I just need to know that I won’t be leading people to their deaths” she whispered. “I just…I can’t go through that again. I can’t have that on my conscience.”

“Rei…” Kakashi murmured. He shifted his hand to her back, rubbing gently. His heart broke for her. He knew all too well the specific brand of pain she was facing, the way that here, even four years later, she was still utterly and completely traumatized. “I know it’s scary, but that was just one mission out of how many in the past eight years?” he started. Rei hated to admit that he had a point. “Maybe you weren’t prepared for a leadership position back then, but things are different now. You’ve grown so much and worked so hard. And besides, if it makes you feel any better, you’ll have a lieutenant working by your side, too.”

On one hand, the promise of a lieutenant brought with it a sense of relief. The power would not rest solely on her shoulders. She would have someone to conspire with on battle tactics, someone to fight alongside her and share the brunt of the responsibility. On the other hand, however, this further brought up yet another point of contention: who, exactly, her lieutenant would be.

There were really only three options: Yugao, Mikazuki, or Tenzo. Rei tossed and turned all night weighing the pros and cons of each. The whole of her morning commute was spent further dissecting their merit.

Yugao was strong and capable and had worked under Kakashi on Team Ro so Rei believed deep down that she was trustworthy enough for the position. Her and Yugao had worked together plenty of times, but Rei had yet to see her in any real position of power. Would she even be up to the task? Could she handle the pressure? She had been so stoic since Hayate’s death, almost even resolving to simply riding the wave of someone else’s leadership rather than taking the reins on her own. Rei wasn’t even sure how much passion she still felt for her career after losing her love. She would never be able to live with herself if she had forced Yugao into a serious commitment like this without her utmost dedication and approval.

Mikazuki was a formidable opponent, highly intelligent and possessing a powerful dojutsu. Out of everyone in the ANBU, Mikazuki was the one that Rei probably considered herself the closest with which meant that their chemistry would likely benefit their leadership capabilities. As incredible as the shinkantazagan’s power is, however, it’s also rare and valuable. Mikazuki’s innate abilities not only made her easily identifiable but could also turn her into a target for the enemy. She had already been captured once before. Rei wasn’t sure she had the strength to risk losing yet another dear friend on the battlefield.

And then there was Tenzo, a former member of the Foundation who had been a part of the ANBU for heaven only knew how long. Rei knew very little about his past but it seemed as if he ate, slept, and breathed the black ops. As if he knew nothing else, had never lived any other way. Another former member of Team Ro, Rei knew without a shadow of a doubt that she could trust Tenzo in a position of power alongside her. The only issue was that, interpersonally, she did not know him well enough. She had never bothered to spend enough time with him to become well-acquainted with who he was and even how he worked. Was his merit worth jeopardizing their leadership abilities due to faulty compatibility? Rei wasn’t sure.

Tsunade tented her fingers and smiled softly as Rei stepped foot into the hokage’s office that morning. “I hope you’re still up for that promotion” Tsunade replied. “We need ANBU captains now more than ever, and I can’t think of anyone else more fitting for the role than you.”

“That’s a pretty hefty compliment” Rei murmured, rubbing the back of her neck anxiously. “But I appreciate your faith in me” she quickly added so as not to sound ungrateful.

Tsunade picked up on Rei’s uncertainty, cocking a brow in suspicion. “You’re not getting cold feet now, are you?” she asked. Yesterday, Rei had seemed so bright and optimistic. It was that attitude that further confirmed Tsunade’s comfort in promoting her. Now, however, she wasn’t so sure. If Rei wasn’t confident in her abilities, then Tsunade couldn’t be confident in this promotion.

Rei’s eyes widened, holding her hands up in surrender. “No, no, no! Absolutely not!” she stammered. It wasn’t a complete lie, at least. No matter what, she could not reveal to Tsunade her overwhelming anxiety about this. She would just have to bury it deep down, put on a brave face, pretend like this was exactly what she had been longing for. She felt her stomach clench as if in response to her lie. Straightening her back, she composed herself with a serious expression and asked, “What are the next steps that need to be taken for this?”

Shuffling through some paperwork, Tsunade explained, “I’ll assign you a team of new recruits fresh out of Ishoku next week.” Ishoku. Rei had nearly forgotten about the training subdivision. She wondered who was training her new team now. It made sense for Kakashi to train her when she was inducted—he had already been captain for years. None of this was necessarily new to him. But Rei was fresh meat, inexperienced. Teaching was not her priority—leading was. She wasn’t quite sure which she may have preferred. “In the meantime” Tsunade continued, “it would be worth your while to brush up on your own training and find someone to act as your lieutenant.”

“Right, of course” Rei nodded. “Kakashi brought that up last night, actually.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Tsunade’s mouth. She wasn’t surprised in the slightest at the mention of Kakashi’s involvement. In fact, she had fully expected him to guide and assist her as she navigated this new role. That was part of the reason she felt so comfortable with promoting Rei in the first place. Kakashi was a legendary shinobi and his time as captain served as a model for the rest of the ANBU. With him as her mentor, Tsunade knew that Rei was in good hands.

“Now, picking a lieutenant isn’t a requirement” Tsunade explained. “Kakashi certainly didn’t have one when he was a captain. With that said, for someone new to this position of power such as yourself, I find it helps to balance out the responsibility a bit. Lieutenants can help alleviate some anxiety and provide support for when you’re first starting out.”

Rei nodded. God, did she understand the importance of that. “If it’ll help me make the best possible decisions” she started, “then by all means, a lieutenant would be best.” Especially if they keep me from leading innocent people to their deaths, she thought to herself. The thought of having someone there to stop her if she was about to make a leadership mistake was truly comforting.

“Consider your options carefully” Tsunade warned. “And try to have an answer for me by Friday morning.”

Rei gave a single, affirmative nod before departing for headquarters. Friday morning. That gave her three full days, counting the present, to make her decision. As she descended the stairs an stepped out into the light, she felt her throat tighten. The pressure was overwhelming. If only someone could make the decision for her, if Tsunade could just assign someone to work alongside her, but Rei knew that that wasn’t right. If she was to be in charge, she needed to start making smart and clear-cut decisions. This was her first test of strength.

The minute she stepped into the ANBU headquarters, she caught sight of Tenzo walking down the hall with a few other men that Rei did not recognize. Sucking in a deep breath, she reached out and called his name.

“Rei?” he asked, almost as if he was confused to see her there. There was a look of such deep focus on her face, a strong sense of purpose. “Is everything alright?” They never talked outside of missions, so her flagging him down certainly struck him as odd. The confusion on his face was, perhaps, meant to be a warning sign that this was a bad idea.

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine” Rei reassured. “I was just wondering, uh, do you have a minute? I wanted to talk with you about something, if that’s alright.”

Tenzo glanced to his comrades, who made faces at each other as if he was not actually in a relationship. He considered his options a moment before urging them to go on without him. He seemed, however, mildly disappointed he could not continue on with them and Rei began to reconsider her plan but it was too late. Once they were alone, Tenzo turned his attention back to Rei. “What did you want to talk about?” he asked.

In this newfound privacy, Rei felt a jolt of ice slither down her spine. How was she even supposed to start this? We don’t really know each other that well but hey, want to be my lieutenant? Ridiculous. She stood there opening and closing her mouth for a moment, trying to find the right words, but none of the options seemed to fit right in her mouth. They all sounded so abrupt and strange, so inappropriate. Finally, after she was certain Tenzo was about to combust with concern, she croaked, “H-how long have you been in the ANBU?”

“Uh, as long as I can remember” Tenzo chuckled nervously. “Why do you ask? Are you writing some sort of tell-all for the black ops newsletter?”

“Oh, no, I just—” Rei started, but her mind quickly snagged on something else. “Wait a sec, there’s a black ops newsletter? Since when?” Tenzo blinked despondently, realizing the joke clearly went over her head. Rei considered the idea for a moment, almost offended that no one had brought this up to her before, but quickly dismissed the thought. She shook her head, swatted at the air, tried to refocus. “Whatever, it’s not important” she muttered. “What is important, however, is that—”

Before she could finish her sentence, she felt a strong gaze boring holes into her back. Turning slowly, she caught none other than Mikazuki approaching. “Hello, Tenzo” she said, eyes downcast. She quickly leaned up to place a shy little peck on his cheek, then nodded towards Rei’s direction. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything. What, um…what were you both talking about?”

It suddenly became horrifically clear to Rei that perhaps Mikazuki had misinterpreted the situation. The laughter, the awkward joking, it was all too suspicious. Rei in no way wanted to appear as if she was trying to steal another woman’s man and getting on Mikazuki’s bad side was a recipe for disaster. The weight of that little list in the back of Rei’s mind grew heavier.

“Rei was just asking me about my experience in the ANBU” Tenzo replied. Immediately after he said this, though, he began to second-guess himself. Rei’s intentions were ambiguous at best and suspicious at worst. What was her angle? What was she really after? He wasn’t sure he even wanted to know. Clearing his throat anxiously, he added in a mutter, “Or something like that.”

Mikazuki pursed her lips as she gave a minute nod. “That’s nice…” she murmured.

“Yeah, I’m just, uh…” Rei started, awkwardly. She searched the air for the proper excuse, the best way to get out of this. Tenzo was a bust and if she was to have any chance of salvaging Mikazuki’s potential, she needed to save face. “Just writing an editorial for the black ops newsletter” Rei jested, forcing a friendly smile.

Tenzo stifled a chuckle as Mikazuki looked to the two of them, completely lost. “Th-there’s a black ops newsletter?”

“Hmm? Oh, no! No, it’s just, uh…just a joke” Tenzo replied, rubbing the back of his neck. Mikazuki clearly remained skeptical and suspicious.

“So, uh, I better get going” Rei started, shoving her hands in her pockets. She slowly backed away as she spoke, trying to appear as charismatic and unaffected as humanly possible. “Oh, hey, here’s an idea! Why don’t you guys join Kakashi and I for dinner one of these nights? Does barbecue sound good? I’m sure Kakashi would love to see you both. It’s been a minute, right? Just let me know when is good for you guys and we can all sync our schedules! I’m thinking Friday nights, but whatever works for you, you know? But whatever, we’ll iron out the details later!” As she departed, her back slammed into the door to the women’s locker room. The doorknob hit her right in the spine with a sharp, shooting pain. She groaned through her smile, presenting a tense thumbs-up, before turning into the solace of the locker room. Once alone, she sunk down onto one of the rickety wooden benches and dug the heels of her hands into her eyes. “Motherfucker” she groaned.

“Rough morning already?” a voice asked from overhead.

Rei squinted past the glare of the ceiling light to find Yugao looming over her. A sly grin touched her lips, hands planted firmly on her hips. “You have no idea” Rei complained.

Skirting around the bench, Yugao took a seat beside Rei and asked, “Do you want to talk about it? Or is it the kind of stuff you don’t really want to bother other people with?”

“No, no, it’s fine” Rei sighed. She rubbed her eyes and stretched her sore back, leaning forward to rest her forearms on her knees. “I’m just…in a weird place right now. Forced to answer questions that I don’t know the answer to. It’s like…it’s like that feeling when you stay up all night studying for a classic lit test only for the teacher to hand out a biology test instead. You feel totally blindsided and unprepared.”

Yugao laughed softly and shook her head. “I trust you with the classic lit” she commented. “But biology? Not so much.”

A bittersweet laugh broke past Rei’s somber, stressed exterior as she raked her fingers through her bangs. “I’ve got a big decision to make and not a lot of time to make it” she sighed. “I don’t feel like I’m cut out for this sort of thing, and it scares me. Like whatever I decide is going to have a profound effect on the way I handle things moving forward, and my reputation as a shinobi. Peoples lives could be at stake and I just…don’t know if I’m ready for this. It just all feels so heavy.”

A fizzle of something profound surged between them in that moment, a shared understanding about loss and grief. Yugao sucked in a sharp breath. “I know what you mean” she sighed. “You tell yourself not to think about everything that could go wrong, but in the back of your mind it’s always there nagging at you. That squeaky little voice asking ‘what if you fuck up? What if someone else dies?’”

“Exactly” Rei nodded. “I just hate feeling so unsure of myself. I don’t want to make a mistake, but I feel like I already have by getting all mixed up in this.”

“What exactly are you mixed up in?” Yugao finally asked.

As much as Rei had wanted to keep her mouth shut, she couldn’t keep it to herself any longer. The secret was stewing deep within her chest, raring to eat her alive. Sitting here with Yugao like this made her feel trusting anyway. Whether or not she should embrace that trust, however, she did not know but much like a surge of vomit, she couldn’t stop it from coming now. Rei toyed with the bandage at her thigh as she explained, “Lady Tsunade has promoted me to captain.”

“She did?” Yugao replied. There was a sense of disbelief in her voice, but pleasantly so. “That’s so great, I’m so happy for you. But also, god, that’s such a huge responsibility. No wonder you’re anxious.”

Rei had never expected the strength of relief she felt in finally admitting the news. Sure, Kakashi knew but he knew everything. She was not afraid to be open with him. She knew he would never judge her and besides, he was not within this circle any longer anyway. His knowing was inconsequential. A bittersweet laugh broke past Rei’s lips. “I still don’t even know if I’m ready for this” she admitted. “But at least the leadership won’t be entirely on my shoulders. I’ll have a lieutenant.”

“Of course” Yugao nodded.

“Lady Tsunade is giving me until Friday morning to take my pick” Rei replied.

“Do you know who you’re going to pick?” Yugoa asked. There was never a hint of insinuation in her tone, never a lurking persuasiveness begging for Rei to pick her and in tht, it seemed Rei’s growing suspicions had thus been solidified.

“You know…” she started, toeing the groutlines in the floor. “When I woke up this morning, my answer would’ve been a solid no. I had ideas but no real plan. But now…now I think I know exactly who I’d pick.” A surge of anxiety coursed through Rei’s veins—she never expected to be so nervous about the proposal. She wondered if this was how Kakashi felt he when he asked her to marry him, even if this wasn’t quite the same. Rei could feel Yugao’s expectant gaze awaiting her answer. She couldn’t afford to screw this up. She couln’t afford to waste anymore time. Looking Yugao in the eyes, Rei replied, “I was thinking it should be you.”

Yugao leaned back a moment, considering the offer. This was truly a monumental request and she was honored that Rei would even consider her as an option. They were not the closest of all the girls in the ANBU, but they worked well together. They had a chemistry that was highly important in positions such as this. After a few moments of deliberation, Yugao gave a single nod. “Alright” she said. She tried to remain dignified and composed—after all, she was now face to face with her superior—but she could not fight the pleased smile threatening her lips. “I humbly accept.”

An incredulous laugh bubbled up from deep within Rei’s chest, the relief washing over her like a wave at high tide. She, too, remained composed, however. She extended a hand for a firm handshake, which Yugao dutifully reciprocated. “I look forward to working with you, Ms. Uzuki” she smiled.

“And I to you, Ms. Natsuki” Yugao replied. “Or would it be Mrs. Hatake?”

“Well, I’m not married yet” Rei laughed.

Yugao swatted at the air and shook her head. “Oh well, it doesn’t matter” she replied. Her laughter toned down then as she looked Rei in the eyes, and in her gaze was a certain sincerity, deep and moving. “Thank you, Rei, for this opportunity. I can’t think of anyone better to work alongside.”

“I can’t think of anyone better to be my lieutenant” Rei replied. The sirens blared down the hallway, a sign that their time was up. Sentimental exchanges would have to wait. They had work to do.

Rei strapped her gauntlets to her forearms and secured her boots to her feet as Yugao made her way toward the exit. With a hand resting on the doorknob, however, she hesitated before looking back over her shoulder. “Hey, Rei” she called. Rei looked up expectantly. A tender smile touched Yugao’s face. “I think you’re going to make a really great captain. Honestly.”

#rei natsuki #kakashi hatake #the scarecrow and the bell #naruto #naruto oc #fanfiction

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gyromitra-esculenta · 4 years

Text

Even If the Waters Rise 3/5 (*cough*)

Shadowrun inspired Mermay part 3 out of *now* 5 - it’s a monster. In this edition: Drama, drama, and once again, relationship drama.

Also, warnings for the whole planned thing: blood, gore, and violence; cannibalism (human on metahuman); questionable jokes and questionable totem choices; ambiguous relationships; referenced limb loss/cybernetics/etc; mating cycles.

Give or take a few days, Jesse turns up three weeks later, lacking fangs or a sun allergy, albeit with a certain pallor to his skin and aversion to the light, but that's easily explainable by the obvious hangover he's sporting, the kind that comes with a days-long drinking binge.

"Broke up already?" Jack pours himself a drink and then slides Jesse the bottle with about half of its contents remaining. He obviously needs it more than Jack.

"Don't want to talk 'bout it."

"Good. Because I'm not interested."

He ends up with all the sordid details, anyway.

It takes over two hours for Jesse to explain that his perpetual stalker vampire ex dumped him two nights past the club incident due to him supposedly smelling like a wet dog that also found and rolled in some prime ripe carrion. Jack's not going to comment on that. To him, Jesse reeks of his cigars first and foremost, and maybe under this odor hides a note of wet canine fur, mangy and full of dust - reminiscent of petrichor but more acidic and scratching the throat if inhaled too deeply or closely. Now, it's also alcohol sweat. But those two hours are enough for Jesse to get himself back into the drunken stupor.

Jack relocates him to the couch and orders take out - settling for some suspicious pizza as the safer option out of the available, even if he has trouble deciphering the ingredients. Someone out there probably knows what exactly 'sea chicken baby' is.

To his morbid astonishment, the 'Chicken of the Sea' turns out to be a sea cucumber, bland as fuck if not for the cheese and the sauce - and he's comfortably sure it would taste better raw than baked. He eats two slices and leaves the rest out on the counter for Jesse - and the state Jesse's in, he would probably be happy with a trashcan left out in some alleyway to pick through.

By the looks of him, that's a fair assumption to make, and not at all mean or undeserved.

But the question of how Jesse tracked him down remains. Their hidey-holes over the whole coastal area number in closer to a hundred than a fifty, so it's either an incredible draw of the luck (including the dang spirit dog) or someone had pointed him in Jack's direction. He brings it up during the check-in with Sombra, sure to vent his general disposition at both Jesse's intrusion, and the required daily contact.

"I think some responsibility would do you good," she brushes him off, "so take care of the puppy instead of moping by yourself for days."

"Maybe, just maybe, I do have a reason to mope," Jack snaps at her, "ever thought about that one?"

Sombra sighs.

"I don't know what had happened between you and Gabe, but..."

"Oh, you could, just load it up."

He immediately regrets going off on her, it's not her fault. Only it is her fault, in an illogical and convoluted way - because right now, he needs someone to blame and that someone will not be him.

"I'd never do that unless you want to show me."

Fuck this shit. He's tired and emotionally drained - he didn't even think it was possible.

"Listen, Jack," Sombra continues after he fails to answer her, "you have no idea what ice I had to get through just to send him a message, and the moment he got it, he just dropped everything and walked out of the meeting."

"Yeah, his asset was malfunctioning."

"Whatever happened, you're taking it hard, and you need something to occupy your time because sitting around is doing you no favors to your state of mind."

"Then find me something to do that doesn't include babysitting the human disaster all broken up over my couch."

"The fleet." Sombra mulls something over and Jack, elbows leaning on the windowsill as he finishes his drink, looks over the almost empty street below. "I'm running into walls and I'll need help with some more traditional intel gathering."

"You need hired muscle."

"The gist of it, yes, I need someone to beat some people up so they cough their contacts up, but I'm still pursuing some other venues right now."

"Tell me when you actually have people to rough up, the downtime's killing me, and this place's a total shithole."

"I know. I'll have tickets for you and the puppy tomorrow, and I need you to keep him on a leash because you're going to Yakuza-land for the foreseeable future." He can feel her smile trying to be reassuring pressed against his thoughts. "And you have a meeting scheduled."

"Yeah, about that, one, the only thing I know is 'shakuhachi shite' and 'arigato'," Sombra laughs muttering 'oh god', "and two, he can send them again through the proxy."

"Listen, you don't really want that. And that wasn't even 'fuck off'. That was dirty talk, Jack."

"Figures. I'm..." Jack sighs, massaging his temples. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. Earlier, I mean."

"I know."

"I'm just, I don't know, angry? Not with you, you did what you had to, but... It's too much, all of it, and I'm sorry."

"I know. You'll work it out. It's okay."

"Fuck. Thanks, I guess. I'm not thanking for dropping the mongrel on my unsuspecting lap, though."

"You're welcome." She signs off and Jack pulls the plug out.

Even the mere prospect of meeting up with Gabriel after the incident gives him what he can describe only as anxiety. At least, that's what Jack decides to peg it as, something jumbled and all tied up in knots, and self-hating, and making him feel useless.

Nibbling on the third slice of the pizza and watching the sun go down, he knows what it really is, but refuses to give it the proper name. Calling it anything else lets him pretend it's nothing important and go about his life like nothing's different, even if it is - threatening to topple over and crush him under.

When Jesse starts moving, Jack forces him under the shower and his clothes into a washing machine. The thing is done with its load before Jesse is, and he dumps the debatably cleaner garments on the couch - the coyote is looking at him with an expression on its snout that's far too intelligent for his liking, half-mocking, and half-challenging. Jack turns the serape the other way. The coyote, apparently, takes a short hike all around the fabric to end up facing him again, and he could probably get into a trial of persistence with it but has a sneaking suspicion he would lose.

Fuck it. It can stare at him through the back of the couch as he undresses.

Jesse, predictably, ambles out to the shower and straight to the counter to assault the leftover pizza with the zeal of a person starving for days.

"Switch your SIN," Jack instructs him after he catches Jesse's attention with a tactical application of a ballistic shoe.

"What? Why?" Jesse mutters between the mouthfuls.

"We're flying to Japan tomorrow, would be best not to have Yakuza waiting on the ground for you when we get off."

"Why the fuck JIS?"

"Yakuza's probably involved with the fleet Som's tracking."

"They are. Fucking racists."

"You know that?"

"If anything has to do with harm to metas in the region, that's a safe bet it's them." Jesse wipes the oil from his mouth with the back of his hand, and the hand on his stomach. Of-fucking-course. "Say, we gonna be anywhere close to Hanamura?"

Jack sits on the bed, taking off his pants.

"Nowhere close. Everyone knows you there, and you're too recognizable." He stares at Jesse with contempt. "You just broke up with your main ex, you're not getting into another mess with another ex of yours. Don't make me tie you down."

"Nah, that about other business." Jesse stretches and walks around the counter in all his naked glory, stopping when Jack points with definite distaste on his face to the couch.

"You're still wet, the bed's mine, and the dog was giving me attitude."

"Whatever you say, pardner."

Jack cannot blame the sleepless night on Jesse, not directly - he doesn't snore, but maybe his presence has something to do with it. Regardless, his ensuing horrid morning disposition makes Jack snap at Jesse more than once, which Jesse completely ignores, or is simply oblivious to.

After he sends Jesse out with the trash and to wait for the car, Jack gives the flat the last once-over, making sure nothing personal is left lying around - unlikely they'll ever use the safehouse again, but good practice is good practice, and it's best not to tempt the fate.

The trip to the airport is relatively short and eventless, he only has to remind Jesse to switch his SIN once before they board. Jack pushes his bag into the overhead compartment and shuts it with a bang, taking his time before he sits and buckles into the seat.

The moment the plane rolls down the tarmac before takeoff he has to quash down his instincts screaming at him to get up and run. The lurch of wheels losing the contact with the ground below has Jack hunched and holding his head between his hands. Twitching at every suspect sound and tremor of the hull, he has nothing to distract himself with on the flight as his mind runs circles around images of a fiery inferno.

"Dude, have you tried taking something for it?" Jesse tries to start a conversation.

Jack shoots him down with a muttered 'fuck off' before returning to fighting to keep his stomach where it usually is and not in the vicinity of his throat where it battles for space with his now frantic heart. Two hours stretch into an imperceptible eternity of pure torture. Jesse waits for him to regain control of his shaking hands when the plane lands. They disembark among the last of the passengers.

The airport is a reconstructed dream of a crazy architect who, faced with a substantial lack of land, built it floating on water. Jack navigates them through the terminals to the water tram while keeping one eye out for anyone trying to latch onto their trail, hoping they look both intimidating and luckless enough to not attract the attention of any lookouts. It's not his first time in JIS, and, ironically, their best bet is using public transport. Some three years ago, the situation would be different, with the welcoming committee already waiting to bus him to his destination. Now, those bridges were burnt, and the goodwill was gone.

"What's the first rule?"

Jesse scoffs, sprawled on the seat, taking up two spaces realistically, legs kicked up to rest on the back of the seats in front of him to the distaste of the attendant.

"Not gonna risk Yakuza ink, even I'm not that stupid."

Jack stares at him with doubt.

"Except that one time."

"That one was different."

"I'm at loss for words," Jack rolls his eyes. "The second rule?"

"Don't antagonize the local racist shitbags?"

"Yeah, that. And the third?"

"Don't fuck with Yakuza."

"Good one."

"Nah, dude, not gonna go to Hanamura and fuck around, I need to go north later, check out something," Jesse shrugs. "Find someone to talk about that bear spirit because that shit was bad, man, real awful shit."

"I suspect you'll have time to do that. We can go together."

"Nah, no hard feelings, dude, but bear people don't trust that easy."

"Suit yourself," Jack rolls his eyes and nudges Jesse to get up as the tram lines up with the embankment. The taxi that drives them to the hotel rips them off, counting the normal rate several times over. Being foreigners, they are expected to pay more than locals for the same services, and making a scene would only add to the expenses - there's either some notation in the contract that would render any complaint null and void, or the local arm of the law would dismiss it anyway after they had at least ticketed them for creating a disturbance - if not outright put them under arrest on some bullshit charge. Well, Jack's not going to bother with it, it's not his money.

The hotel is one of those ridiculously posh ones, and he and Jesse draw curious glances as they pick up keycards from the reception area.

"Man, that's what I call life," Jesse announces after opening the alcohol cabinet, the first destination he chooses after walking into their shared room. Jack glances at the clock and just like that his heart is back to hammering against his ribs. He leaves his bag on the table.

"I'll be back tomorrow, do nothing stupid while I’m gone."

"Nah, jus’ gonna get stupid drunk and watch some holos."

Jack shrugs and heads out, leaving Jesse to his own devices, hoping he will stay true to his own words and not wander outside, especially not when drunk.

Gabriel's apartment is several floors up and Jack opts for stairs this time. The flight was enough excitement for the day, and the thought of forcing himself into the elevator fills him with revulsion on the spot. Halfway up, he realizes he’s only delaying the inevitable.

The heavy thing settled in his stomach is dread - and maybe, for the first time in his life, his instincts work as they should - screaming at him to run away, no matter where, just away, as he presses the card against the reader and keys in the code. Little late for that, huh? He pushes the door open, wincing at the breach of protocol: so wrapped earlier in his own thoughts he forgot about sending the text. The pad lies in the bag left with Jesse.

"I'm here," Jack announces to the room. His voice falls flat, even to his own ears. Gabriel looks over his shoulder while the screens in front of him flicker off one by one. Fucking dramatic, as usual.

"I can see it."

"I hate flying," Jack scrambles for an excuse - he doesn't need to, but it feels like he does - shrugs noncommittally, holding Gabriel's gaze. The mounting tension in the room seemingly affects only him - some misplaced power struggle Jack loses before it even began - and he breaks away the eye contact, turning away and stepping deeper into the suite. "There has to be a different method to get around."

"It is the most effective one."

The voice sounds too close, following Jack as he sheds his clothes.

"Maybe one that hits the orbit, I heard weightlessness is somewhat like swimming." He can at least give his honest opinion if they're on the subject.

"If the need arises for one."

Yeah, probably any launch of the type is conspicuous and more likely monitored, from the utilitarian point of view only reasonable if the speed is the key. Fuck that.

Jack loses the rest of his garments with the skin on the nape of his neck prickling under the scrutiny. Whether it's imagined or not doesn't matter, it's wrecking his nerves either way.

It's his turn to look over his shoulder, at Gabriel standing some distance away - shifting finally and coming closer to the bed.

"I wasn't aware flight provokes such high levels of stress for you."

Jack bites back the obvious answer - that unless he's bothered to know there's a lot Gabriel doesn't know about him - and the only time he cares to know is when it interferes with the operations. Won't lie to himself about the malice hidden under the thought.

"Now you know."

"Noted."

With Gabriel's thumb raising his chin up and the red and black eyes boring into his own, Jack falls back into the sheets. The sex is great, amazing even - it always is - but there is a certain measure of detachment that prevents him from losing himself in the act.

There's an invisible wall between him and Gabriel, one that wasn't there before, and the more Jack thinks about it curled up on his side, the more he realizes the fault lies with him, and him alone. Things have changed - he has changed - not Gabriel, and neither the arrangement. It's just a business transaction.

Trying to untangle the jumbled knot inside is like picking at an itching scab, only to discover there's pus underneath and nothing's healing. And it won't heal, not when Jack cannot pretend anymore he doesn't care, no matter how much he wants to. If that's what love is, it's a fucking miserable thing he wouldn't wish on anyone; he wonders if his past self also felt the same and he's merely stuck in following a preset rut. After all, the world is a cycle, isn't it?

Wanting Gabriel gone to let him sleep alone is a new one. So he can wallow in misery and self-pity in peace without the subject of his one-sided affection at his back.

Yeah. Love's an absolute utter bullshit, that's what Jack tells himself, staring at his own reflection in the still surface of the lake, fingers trailing in the water. The weathered wooden planks, blackened with tar, are far from the most pleasant to lie on - but the sun bearing down on his skin feels good and allays the discomfort.

The ripples born from his hand idly moving distort his reflection until Jack cannot recognize it anymore as his. And it isn't his, it's something else looking back at him from below the surface. Before he has time to react clawed fingers wrap around his wrist. The shining scales fading in and out of the skin glitter in the light with each minute shift.

It yanks him down with surprising strength

His skin scrapes on the wood - the water is cold - so cold - his lungs hurt with the lack of oxygen when he frees himself from the grip pulling him down - but the safety is far away - too far - and hungry mouths filled with sharp teeth latch onto his flesh.

He drowns.

The ending is the same, it's the rest of the dream that changes.

Lying cradled against Gabriel's side, with the arm wrapped around his waist and the palm resting on his stomach, Jack remains still, trying to wrest his thundering heart under control. Why he even bothers to remains a mystery because there is no viable way Gabriel isn't aware he's wide awake. What's left for Jack is to enjoy the rare closeness, something he's hard-pressed to; the satisfaction eludes him nonetheless while he watches Gabriel work. The screens close and reappear, once or twice prompted by the hand gesturing at them.

Jack tries to focus on the simple sensations: the warmth of the skin, the smell of the ocean, the lingering touch, but soon, it becomes unbearable, this picking at the open aching wound.

He moves away - the arm around his waist slackens and lets him go - and he sits up, disentangling himself from the sheets. Gabriel's attention remains focused on the screens, and Jack struggles for something to say.

"I'm going to take a shower," he mutters in the end, sliding off the bed.

The oppressive feeling of being observed and considered fades after the bathroom door closes behind him.

Of course, the whole room is done in subdued pink - salmon? - with elaborate cherry motifs running unbroken all around the walls with slight hints of darker colors. It's probably pretty and charming, and not at all tacky and lacking any real character or individual touch. Hotels always were like that.

The bathtub looks inviting, and Jack knows he could stay here for days by himself, but the reasons he's loath to are twofold. Jesse definitely constitutes one, the other one being the place that will make him think about Gabriel, and Gabriel only, the distractions available superficial.

Jack steps into the shower and, standing under the rain of warm water, he presses his forehead to the cold tiles. The voice inside his head provides him with an incessant background chant of 'you broke it' until he can't bear it anymore and punches the wall in frustration. The tiles crack.

He has no idea how long he's been in the bathroom - but Gabriel is gone when he walks out.

The pillbox lies on the pillow almost like an afterthought. Jack puts it in his pocket after gathering all his things.

He opts for the stairs again.

What he's not prepared for is Jesse scrambling to look at him over the back of the chair as he enters their room. Jack raises eyebrows at him.

"Shit! Dude. You're, like, glowing, but look like a kicked dog, but seriously," Jesse blindly reaches back behind himself for the open can of beer sitting on the small table, "you're bending the whole flow around you!"

"The what?" Jack notes the smell of cigars in the air, laced with something else, acrid and heady.

"Mana." Jesse sips from the can. "You got a fuckton of magic on you, like, a lot."

"Great. There's to hoping it won't kill me." Jack throws the jacket on the couch, sits in the other chair next to Jesse, and helps himself to the unopened can standing in the middle of empty ones.

"Don't think so, if it's bad, you'd be, like, dead ten times over, what with the potency. No spirit, for sure."

"Great. I feel nothing."

At least now, he had the explanation for Gabriel's clothes trick. Jack opens the can and downs half of it in one go.

"Offense meant, dude, but you got the sensitivity of a low-flying brick, and that means the only sensitivity you got is in the poor dude you're gonna brain."

"Thanks, I guess." Jack chuckles, toasting Jesse with a flourish. "Tell me," he vaguely points at himself, "if it does something weird."

"Will do. Wanna anything stronger with that?"

"That's what stinks in here?"

Jesse looks at him with his eyes pinched.

"Maybe."

"Pass, don't want to fuck up my lungs any more than they already are."

"Dude. You can breathe water, lil bit of smoke not gonna fuck them up."

"Still a pass." Jack finishes the beer and finds another can. "As long as it's not something you can be busted for, go ahead yourself."

Jesse snorts, apparently amused by his comment.

"It's all natural. Like, herbs and shrooms." To illustrate, he picks up a small baggie containing flaky brown fragments. "I smoke 'em, but go as well on the tongue."

This is a terrible idea. And Jack's tempted.

"No," he answers with a delay. "Especially if that's what gave you the mutt, might be contagious."

"Suit yourself." Jesse pulls out a cigar from his pocket and lights it, puffs on it lightly. Jack leaves it without a comment while flipping through the channels on the holo. They're both left with nothing to do for the foreseeable time. Jesse is more than content to spend the days idling: doing nothing but smoking, drinking, and watching tv, but Jack ventures out twice. He gives up on the whole idea of spending time outside of the hotel room soon.

He had forgotten how bland and hostile the whole of the JIS is to him despite the colors and the flashing lights, the music, and the chatter that never stops, or the cities that never sleep. It's a sea of humans only, maybe one or two occasional elves, almost no other metas, which serves to remind Jack that outside of the metropolis it's even worse.

Finding a place to drink and eat he's let in, not to mention not being faced with outright disdain when it becomes obvious he doesn't speak a speck of the language, is too bothersome.

Being confined to the hotel is not the worst thing in the world, Jack decides, not with his surprisingly stable mood, and the fact he's not fixating on the whole situation with Gabriel - only sometimes - and earthly mundane distractions are forthcoming. The majority of it, he thinks, is easily attributed to whatever Jesse's smoking the copious amounts of, and he himself is probably getting high on the fumes by the virtue of widely understood osmosis. Or ingestion. Call it what you will, it works wonders.

The idyll of the carefree quiescence ends with a dream in equal measure disturbingly different, and uncomfortably concordant. His feet are in the water - the waves wash up to his knees. He can feel every grain of sand on his skin: pressing in, irritating, ignored.

Pleasant warmth spills deep to his core, radiates from the bodies pressed to his sides - there's one hand slung over his chest - another carelessly pushes the elbow into his stomach - Jack shifts to remove the discomfort, and as he does so, he senses everyone else moving too. Like dominoes, every change of position prompts a chain reaction following down the line.

Lulled into half-sleep, this strange place in-between lucidity and unconsciousness, his eyes remain closed even with a familiar weight pressing down into almost the entire length of his body.

Something cold tickles his face and Jack finally looks up, at the silhouette cut starkly in the expanse of the pale blue sky, Gabriel's long wet hair brushing against his nose and cheeks, droplets of cool water splashing on heated skin giving him goosebumps.

Jack lifts his arms up. His fingers lock behind Gabriel's neck as he's spread open on the sand, a strange kind of pride bursting in his chest with each bite that draws blood from his skin. Nothing else exists or bears any importance but this one singular snapshot of time dredged from god knows where.

Jack freezes with his eyes wide open, his fingers almost breaking the surface of the water. The sensations - all so very specific and precise, unlike the vague suggestions of the usual dreamscapes - the sand scratching his arms and legs, and the back, the irritation lingering even now. The synthskin, even the kind slapped on his limbs, is never good enough to allow for the definition of the input and the interpretation on the level of the natural skin.

Dredged up. His own thought.

There's a sinking feeling, a frightening idea, that it's a memory. And it's not his. Jack schools his breathing; the jealousy at the effortless intimacy mixed with the shame of being an unwilling observer of someone else's intimate life swirl under his tongue. Or it's all jealousy. And spite. He grips the edges of the bathtub and pulls himself upright.

At the clinking and shuffling from the side, Jack turns his head to see Jesse tucking himself into his pants and buckling his belt.

"Christ, dude, you scared the piss outta me, like, for real."

Jack shows him the finger.

"How does your skin stay on, anyway?"

"It's just what it does? It's only fingers that do this dehydration thing."

"I don't mean that, and don't do this 'rise from the watery grave' shtick when I'm trying to take a leak," Jesse rolls his eyes, a gesture he's so fond of. "Almost pissed all over the wall."

"That's a 'you' problem, not a 'me' problem," Jack mutters, heaving himself upright and snatching a towel off the rack. He wraps it around himself while stepping out of the bathtub.

"Would be a 'you' problem if I'd turned around when you did the 'I live' routine."

Jack snorts, giving Jesse an appraising look supposed to convey his opinion on the subject matter, and moves to the main room - dripping water everywhere - where he sinks into his usual chair.

"By the way, I got my stuff arranged, so I'll be splitting in the evening later."

Jack acknowledges it with a grunt. With Jesse gone, he will probably be about ready to climb walls with the dearth of things left to do. Or return to drinking alone, which, arguably, is far from anything approximating a healthy coping mechanism.

"And you forgot toes. And the soles."

"Hm?"

"The prune looking thing, the feet do that too." Jesse drops back to the couch and plays with the remote. "That's stuff from the time we were all water monkeys, and so we could grab stuff better in water."

"No bullshit?"

"Nah, real stuff, that's why we like water that much. Some of us, at least, that's, like, where we should be most of the time."

"Cool."

"You're still a freak, though," Jesse salutes before opening a beer he has grabbed earlier from the cooler. "No hard feelings, right?"

"None. But, with the world as it is, isn't the whole evolution argument kind of moot? No-one accounted for the magic, did they?" Jack picks the plate with the remnants of yesterday's late-night snack up from the table and tries to discern if anything on it looks poisonous yet. Fried shrimps appear acceptable, to be honest, though the oil probably is a bit stale, Jack decides.

"Now, here, my dude, my friend, is the heart of the matter all those dudes who say a big man, or a big woman, or whatever in the sky did it don't get they get wrong."

"And that is?"

"And that is that even if that's all a fart of some higher power in the sky, it's still a creation, see? Someone sneezed, stuff crawled outta that sneeze, and the world began, it's still their word, ya know?"

Jack nibbles on the shrimp, deep in thought.

"Let's call that 'the great primordial snot theory' and never mention it again, deal?"

"Deal. Sounded better in my head."

"No," Jack lets out a defeated sigh, "you're onto something, but I'm definitely not going into the ramifications of a sneeze being the breath of life."

"But it has a nice ring to it."

"Yeah." Jack focuses on the shrimps, paying only nominal attention to both the show playing in the background and Jesse's mutterings while he slowly gathers his belongings that spread all over the rooms they've shared so far. Later, Jack escorts Jesse to the cab waiting for him, grips his hand for longer than needed when they shake.

"What's the main rule?"

"Don't get inked. Dude, who do you take me for?" Jesse snorts, trying to look offended and failing.

"A moron."

"Fair. Take care."

"You too."

Jesse ducks into his seat in the back of the cab and Jack shuts the door behind him - staying for a moment to see the car speed away from him before he returns to the hotel and for the first time considers the relative wasteland of devastation the room has become. After he pushes everything from the coffee table into a trash bin, he returns to the chair and checks in with Sombra.

"Feeling maudlin, are we?"

Jack shakes his head.

"What gave you the idea? Anyway, you still in Frisco?"

"Yes. Better access points to JIS networks."

"Right. Didn't cross my mind this might be the reason."

"There's good news too. When you get back from your meeting, I'll have a package waiting for you."

The meeting. He's on the last three doses remaining. Anxiety surges up in a sudden spike at the realization. He's been avoiding dwelling on the matter so well he pushed it almost entirely out of his mind.

"A package?"

"Some additional gear we will need to start digging, how to say it, organically."

"Beat people up, you mean."

"Yes," Sombra trails off slowly, a question in the air.

"Go on," Jack urges her, and after a lengthy pause, she continues.

"You never told me you only have nightmares."

"I have other dreams too." He's pretty sure of it, especially after the last one.

"Jack. Every time you enter the REM phase, you have repetitive patterns of stress. Listen," Sombra sighs, probably reading his silence the wrong way, "I wasn't... keen on sifting through all your data, I don't like infringing on your privacy more than I have to, but Gabe insisted on it, and it could've been avoided if you had talked about having problems."

"They're not really problems, though."

He can almost hear her mentally counting down.

"You consistently downplay your pain levels, you don't dream save for reliving the trauma you'd suffered, and, Jack, I tried simulating your brain activity, I clocked out after three minutes."

"I'm used to it."

"That's the thing, you shouldn't be used to it, it's not normal," Sombra huffs, and Jack's sure she's throwing things right now wherever she's physically at by now. "I'm angry with you, we'll talk tomorrow when you get the package, and I'll be less angry."

She disconnects without prior warning, leaving him alone. But that's the thing about pain, you become numb to some of it, Jack thinks, until it becomes just the background radiation of your life.

He takes a quick shower and finds a clean set of clothes to change into.

This time, Jack remembers about keeping the pad on his person, and sends the text as he climbs the stairs yet again, somewhat amazed at how three whole weeks have passed unnoticeably with Jesse there to keep him occupied - he's not going to lie, he's going to miss the bugger. Not the conversations, per se, but rather, the general awareness of his presence. Even if everyone is living their own separate lives outside of the operations, getting together is not so bad, after all.

Jack stops at the doors to the same suite as before. The code is unchanged. A few calming breaths and he walks in.

That's the thing about the constant pain, it doesn't disappear, it just numbs you down - it's a sort of resigned weary acceptance to his situation that leaves a dull ache in its wake, nothing earth-shattering anymore, but it's still there. The half-smile Jack musters at the sight of Gabriel observing him is surprisingly genuine, even to him himself. He can, and will, deal with it. His problem, not anyone else's.

"Long time no see," Jack quips at the inquisitive rise of Gabriel's eyebrow. "Hi, and all that jazz."

He doesn't expect an answer. There is none, save for Gabriel stepping closer, and Jack throws his hands around his neck while his heart flips in his chest - constricts into a singular point of fear and doubt - the touch on his hip giving him something - anything - to grab onto. Grounding, as is the finger raising his chin.

The red and black eyes regard him with moderate interest - observe and scrutinize - pass the judgment on him; Jack leans in against the instinct telling him for once to run and hide from the apex predator before him. But, has he ever listened to it when it urged him to do anything but fight? Not that he can recall such an incident.

In a small act of defiance, Jack catches Gabriel's lip between his teeth, scrapes the tip of a canine on the fragile skin on the inside, hard enough to draw blood. He waits with the bated breath for the reaction, taken aback by a sparkle of what could be amusement in Gabriel's posture, and the kiss, now tinged with the metallic aftertaste, deepening, becoming more forceful, his body pulled flush against Gabriel's, a hand on the nape of his neck.

Jack stumbles over his own feet while being led to the bedroom, lost in the kiss until the backs of his shins hit the edge of the bed, and with a gasp of surprise he lies on the covers - almost falling but also held and lowered - peeled out of his garments, and out of control. Having Gabriel's attention focused on him - and only him - makes Jack's head spin each and every time, regardless of the circumstances; a near-religious experience if he ever had to put a name to it, not unlike the moment the drifting dragon gazed at him - and through him.

He wanders back to the dream - the memory - of the beach, of the coarse sand biting into his skin; Gabriel's locks that have slipped from the low ponytail tickle his cheeks and nose as his fingers dig into Gabriel's shoulders, trying to find a way to bring him even closer. Maybe even to leave a mark - a sign of permanence - something that cannot be denied sunk beneath Gabriel's skin in a desperate attempt to put his claim on him before Jack dissolves in the smell and the taste of the ocean rushing over him, the whirling current pulling him down.

But this is what Jack knows: he is not willing to give this up, this bittersweet torture. It doesn't come as a sudden realization, more like a long-standing knowledge now unburied and close to the surface, driven home with the weight of the moisture hanging on his eyelashes. He reaches out and finds Gabriel's palm, twines their fingers together - always amazed at the contrast and the faint dark red lines following intricate patterns melting into the color of Gabriel's skin - pulls it close to his chest, its back pressing against his heart. Covers both their palms with his other hand and curls around it.

No matter how much it hurts, no matter how much it will hurt, he's not going to give this up because the alternative is far worse, it's being abandoned and empty, and lost, and having nothing but that deep-seated ache.

Like this, he can at least pretend, Jack muses, slowly drifting off.

The first time he wakes up, it is to the darkness of the night and fingers combing slowly through his hair, Gabriel's hand still held close.

The next time he opens his eyes, it's morning, and he's alone in the suite – the pillbox waits on the pillow.

#sometimes I write #r76 #reaper76 #mermay #shadowrun mermaids and stuff #that's too much plot put some of it back please

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chartreuse-gale · 4 years

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Dragon Warrior/Quest ramblings/collective review

I rant about the Dragon Quest franchise a lot.

Two of my video game pet peeves are when people laude the original Dragon Warrior/Dragon Quest as ground breaking (it’s not, see Wizardy/Ultima), or the great grandfather of JRPGs (it’s not, see Hydlide/Dragon Slayer/Fantasian/) I’m generally not a fan of silent protagonists. I rarely identify enough with a character to feel like I’m “in” the game, so I prefer to be playing the role of a character with some kind of dialogue and a personality. Every dragon quest (that I’ve played) has a silent protagonist. That said, I do have some love for the series. I’ve suddenly found myself interested in giving Dragon Quest XI a spin, but instead I went back to Dragon Warrior IV. I remembered liking it as a kid and I’m happy to say I’ve been having as much fun playing it now as I remember having back then. Here are my thoughts on the dragon quest games separated into the ones I’ve finished and the ones I haven’t (mainline only).

Games I’ve Finished

Dragon Quest: This is grinding the game.

Strategy is almost nonexistent in the battle system outside of “Grind XP to LVL UP/Gold to buy better equipment”. You have 1 character and you never fight more than 1 enemy, so all fights are one-on-one. There isn’t any equipment with special traits or functions (just better Attack/Defense). You get access to a total of 6 spells in the game: Heal Heal More Heal Most Hurt Hurt More Hurt Most (these last 3 are usually a waste of MP) The plot is linear (except for potentially at the very end of the game). At least there’s a decent amount of exploration. Worse than Final fantasy I and Phantasy Star I by far, but to be fair, Enix did better with Dragon Quest II, which beat both of these competitors to the punch. Dragon Quest II: So much better than the original.

The grind is mediated by choices that matter in regards to equipment and combat. Also, you have an actual party this time (of 3), Also, Also, you can fight multiple enemies at the same time. Dragon Quest II added a much wider variety of spells (buff, debuff, and elemental damage spells); Equipment that had special functions when used as an item in combat (e.g. the Lightning Staff can cast whoosh), and a smidge more plot. Many people say more grinding is required in II than in the original, but I would argue that Dragon Quest I is nothing but grinding whereas Dragon Quest II breaks up the monotony with a dose of strategy. Comparable to Final Fantasy I. Far worse than Phantasy Star I. Dragon Quest V: Decent.

Also the first game originating on the Super Famicom (although we didn’t get an official English translation till the DS remake)

Allows for a party of 3 (4 in the DS remake). Considered groundbreaking by many for it’s monster recruitment system but it wasn’t the first game to have one by any means (Megami Tensei beat it by 5 years and Wizardry IV by 4). The game is divided into sections based on time periods as you grow from a kid to a teen to an adult, which is a cool way of pacing the games content, and gives you a little more perspective on the setting than you typically get in a Dragon Quest game. Characters are mostly boring outside of one (or two) of the love interests. Did I mention this game has love interests? I think I would have liked it better if there was only one, because it punched me in the heart for not picking the one it leads up to as the primary love interest (who also happens to be the canon one). Has really frustrating setting/plot-gender dynamics with two characters late in the game who I won’t name because spoilers.

Games I’ve Played but haven’t finished

Dragon Quest III: My least favorite game in the series (out of the ones I’ve played).

This time you have a protagonist and you can hire adventures to join you on your quest. They are all nobody characters. Their personalities are assigned at random, and (from what I can tell) only effect their growth. There’s no fucking dialogue with them (which is something I expected after DQ II). Personalities and seeds are fucking annoying, because both of them are random, have huge differences in their effects, and their effects make a huge difference in character capabilities, so it makes me want to spend hours saving/reloading until I get the effects I want. Fuck this game for introducing seeds to the series which appeared in many Dragon Quest games after this (thankfully I haven’t run into personalities again yet). Often lauded for having the “groundbreaking” option of changing character classes/jobs. Yes this came out before Final Fantasy III (Japan), but I would like to make the following points: - Final Fantasy I let you pick your character classes (which came out beforehand) - Final Fantasy III had a class change system you could actually make use of throughout the game (unlike DQ III where you need to get about halfway through the game first) - The original Wizardry came out 7 years earlier and also had a much more accessible class change system than DQ III I played very little of Dragon Quest III (I dropped it before even getting to my 2nd town). Two great thing about this games: It’s the first in the series to give you the option of playing as a woman, and I heard it’s the game that introduced the casino/mini games to the franchise. Dragon Quest IV: This game is Great! Also, Unlike the first three games in the series, Dragon Quest IV might actually be groundbreaking. You ever play Wild Arms I, II, or III? Did you enjoy playing through the prologues that introduce your early party members? Well Dragon Quest IV does a similar thing: The game is divided into chapters. Each chapter has a different protagonist. In their chapter you play them as silent protagonist, but when you encounter them later in the game they have dialogue. This does a lot to develop much of the cast, because you can see how people react to/talk with them and later on you can see how they engage with the player character (who you’re actually introduced to last). The cast is great and falls into a mix of both very old school and very uncommon tropes for a JRPG: You have an aging knight who goes on a mission to rescue children and then goes on a journey to find more about the ominous forces behind their kidnappers (Ragnar). Then there’s a princess who wants to go on an adventure against her fathers wishes so she kicks a hole in the wall of her room and jumps out of the castle (Alena); she’s joined by a young priest (Cristo) and an elderly mage (Brey) employed by her father, who give up on bringing her home and instead ask to travel with her to help her out. Next you have a merchant who wants to raise enough money to buy his own storefront (Taloon). After that you play a Fortune Teller (Nara) who travels with her dancer sister (Mara) on a quest to avenge the death of their father (an alchemist who was murdered by his apprentice). Each chapter ends on a climax related to motivations/goals of its lead character and each chapter shows more of the world/gives out more info on what is going on behind the scenes. While you actively control the primary characters of a chapter other characters are either controlled completely by AI (in chapters I-IV), or loosely follow a tactical strategy you select (chapter V). I’ve been getting on fine with it, but this might be a deal breaker for some. The music is better than any of the Dragon Quest games I’ve finished (and what I’ve heard from any of the ones I’ve played, but not finished). A remake of this game has an interesting flaw: they cut all the party chart dialogue from the foreign language versions of the DS version; so if you don’t know Japanese, you’ll probably miss out on a lot of character interaction with that version. (I heard this had something to do with concerns that the game wouldn’t make enough sales to cover translation costs of the party chart [which was reputedly two thirds of the game’s script]). Dragon Quest VI Honestly I’ve barely played this one. You have actual characters for party members (a big plus in my book). I’ve heard there’s a job system as well. Plot/setting seem decently interesting on first glance. I might come back to this one later. Dragon Quest VIII I got about halfway through this one.

They included a character-specific skill tree system which is cool, except that there are objectively best routes to take for some (possibly all?) characters and these best routes are not even close to obvious from the outset. It introduced a pretty fun crafting system.

There’s a decent cast of characters, but they don’t have quite enough going on for my tastes (my fave is Yangus). Plot has an interesting premise, but feels very barebones, and the environments/towns/npcs aren’t very interesting (maybe about as good as DQV, but worse than IV).

This game gets lauded for the 3D models of characters/enemies, but honestly I’ve never been a fan of the character designs of Dragon Quest (especially the monsters), so I feel pretty “meh” about it outside of being able to see your party members in combat (for I think the first time in the series), which is very nice. The music is very ambient a lot of the time. It does a good job of fitting melancholy moments, but doesn’t do such a great job of building excitement during battles and high-tension events. Dragon Quest IX This game feels a lot like Dragon Quest III.

You don’t have any actual characters, you just recruit them and use them in battle (no meaningful intraparty dialogue, character development, etc.) I think I played around 10-20 hours before dropping it.

Final Thoughts

Dragon Quest games vary from game to game in terms of gameplay mechanics, but they vary a great deal more when it comes to characters.

If you like having a lot of control over your party composition and don’t care about having characters with personality, you might like Dragon Quest III, V, or IX.

If you want a party comprised of characters who interact, have personalities, and might even develop over time, you might like Dragon Quest IV, or (sort of) VIII (I haven’t played much of VI, or any of VII or XI, but I heard they also fall into this camp). If you want to play an old school, 8-Bit JRPG that launched a spectacular franchise, might have actually been ground-breaking for its time, and is still fun to play today, check out the original Phantasy Star. . . . . . . (at least, for me it’s still fun to this day) [notes: - edited some typos, and mistakes most notably regarding the Hurt series of spells in Dragon Quest I - Revised some word choices - Added a comment about being able to see your party in combat in Dragon Quest VIII]

#Dragon Warrior #Dragon Quest #Dragon Warrior IV #Dragon Quest IV #Dragon Quest II #Dragon Warrior II #Dragon Quest III #Dragon Warrior III #Dragon Quest V #Dragon Quest VI #Dragon Quest VIII #I'm generally not a fan of silent protagonists

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sgt-nerd-plays · 4 years

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Week 4: Ups and Downs

As promised, my battle report from yesterday:

Game Setup:

Just like last week, we're at the 400 point level. Everyone counts as battleforged and gets 3 CP regardless of their actual makeup. I'm playing with a squad of eight intercessors, a grav captain, and a redemptor dreadnought.

Game type was The Relic.

My Narrative:

Captain Incusator has won several key battles since he arrived on Herosand V. However, a clash with representatives from the Space Wolves contingent has left him stinging.

Hoping to reverse this turn of fortune, he marches out seeking glory!

Match 1:

Adeptus Mechanicus

Their Forces:

Skitarii Rangers, Sicarian Infiltrators, Onager Dunecrawler, Kataphron Destroyers.

quote:

"This unit's sensors indicate large mass of forces, sir," said the hulking dreadnought. "Reginald, for the last time, you are a dreadnought, not a robot," Captain Incusator said, for the seventh time that morning. "Beep, sir." Reginald said, and paused. Then, "On consideration, Boop." Before the captain could respond any further, there was a massive explosion not thirty feet from them. "The flesh is weak!" cried out a group of red-robed figures cresting the hill. "I say! That's our line!" the captain said indignantly.

The wrath of Mars falls on the boys of iron!

Unfortunately, I forgot to get pictures earlier in the match.

I went first and moved my intercessors almost up to the relic. I fired onto his forces, but did relatively little damage, only taking out a few of his skitarii rangers. He rolled really well for his kataphron's shots, and it ended up shredding my intercessors. He deep striked some infiltrators in and took out the rest.

Here, my opponent was extremely reasonable. I thought he had said he had managed to deal a number of mortal wounds to my captain, which would have left me with no infantry, and automatically losing the match (since I would have had no unit left capable of picking up the relic). We had started to put things away when he mentioned that he had been rolling for something else entirely. He agreed to re-set-up. This allowed me to take out his infiltrators with a decent round of shooting and charging.

Battered, but not defeated!

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to do much to the rest of his army, and my captain was down to two wounds left. Kataphrons are ridiculously tough. He unleashed the rest of his army against my poor captain and dreadnought. The extra damage rangers get against vehicles hurt.

Getting a bit more defeated here...

Another round of shooting. I managed to take out one more ranger and two of the kataphrons, but it was pretty clear I wasn't going to be surviving the next round. I hadn't even touched the dunecrawler, and I had four wounds left between my two models.

I probably should have asked for more terrain for the game. The lack of cover really hurt, and gave me few good options for moving around. I don't think I made any particularly egregious mistakes tactically. Possibly I should have focused more on his kataphrons more in the first round, but there wasn't anything I could do when he brought in the infiltrators. 40 shots into one unit is just not going to be very survivable. I perhaps could have used Auspex Scan, but with only 3 CP, I wasn't sure I wanted to blow two at once.

Match 2: Eldar

Their Forces:

One Autarch, Wraith Guards, and Black Guardians with Shuriken Cannon

quote:

Captain Incusator sat cradling his helmet in his hands. "Where did we go wrong, Caminus?" "Couldn't say, sir," the sergeant replied. "I almost wish I'd never come to this planet," the captain sighed. "Ah, cheer up, sir," the segeant said. "You know what they say: The flesh is always weakest before the dawn." "It's no use, sergeant. I'm afraid I'm just in a funk." "I know what'll put some shine on your armor," Caminus said. "I hear there's some eldar nearby..." The captain perked up. "I do like killing eldar," he said. ------- The eldar commander shouted across the valley, "Surrender, mon-keigh! You will taste defea-Ah, crap, not you again!"

The race for the relic!

I chose to move and shoot my first turn, letting his black guardians get the relic first. I moved the dread into the ruins so to get a little bit of cover. Meanwhile, his wraith guard moved down the board and began shooting, pouring shots into my dreadnought. He used Doom and Guide to increase the effectiveness of his units, taking some of my intercessors out of the fight. He would have taken out my dreadnought, but I had decided to use Duty Eternal to halve the incoming damage.

"It's over, Mon-Keighikan! I have the high ground!"

He got his Autarch up on top of the terrain block to make him a little harder to get to, while letting him use his psychic abilities freely. A smite added some more damage into my dreadnought. However, I was able to charge up and deal some serious damage to his black guardians, while my captain charged into the wraith guard and took them out.

"No! It's my barrel! You can't have it!"

He got his last two black guardians up on top with his Autarch before I shot them out. However, he was able to take out my dreadnought. Happily, Reginald did not explode and kill us all. The Autarch grabbed the relic and moved to the far side of the terrain piece to await the final confrontation.

"At him, boys! Pointy ends towards the enemy!"

My intercessors and my captain moved up on top and then charged in. He fought gloriously, but futilely, and the battle was won.

quote:

"Feeling better, sir?" asked Sergeant Caminus. "Quite so!" the captain said. "Nothing like giving the ol' one-two to some xenos scum to get the blood flowing and the coolant pumping." The sergeant frowned. "Ah, we do have an issue I must bring to your attention, sir." "What's that, Caminus?" "It's the plumbing, sir," he said regretfully. "I'm afraid it needs some repairs." "Great scott!" the captain cried. "I'll call in a servitor at once. What seems to be the issue?" "Not enough pressure in the pipes," Caminus said. "The flush is weak."

This concludes the 400 point part of the league. I'm currently 14th out of 72 players (though that's total sign-ups; not necessarily total playing). Next week, we'll move up to 600 points. I've painted up another seven intercessors (giving me three squads of five) and a primaris lieutenant. I'll also have more CP to play with, since we'll go to normal battleforged rules.

#warhammer 40k #40k #Battle Report #wargaming #iron hands #eldar #craftworld eldar #adeptus mechanicus

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jaehyunay · 4 years

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mysticandskepticmuses · 4 years

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MEET Rori LuAnne* Dearing. ( Altered Carbon based original character. )

*Please note. Any use of her middle name in character will result in her losing her shit because who the fuck names their child LuAnne in the 25th century it’s so 400 years ago….

First things first, OOC, yes, this is the same face claim as I use for Saori; it’s intentional / for plot purposes w/ certain characters where that holy shit it’s like looking at a ghost trope is lots of fun so… Also, I think it’s particularly interesting in a world where bodies can be custom made and DNA is literally just a playground for scientists for there to be this freak natural repetition / recreation after 250 years. It is something that family members remark on from time to time, but it’s not something that a lot of them really pay that much attention to, it’s the oh you look so much like so and so, but since none of the living family members even met Saori they don’t realize just how identical the resemblance is. And most people that meet her wouldn’t know enough about her history / lineage to know though so. She’s just a pretty, long-legged, pierced and tattooed cutie pie. [ Any of those rare survivors from Envoy era that were at Stronghold or on Harlan’s World, or any that might have VR’ed in to a conference or something w/ Saori are totally free / encouraged to notice and react of course !!! ]

Yes, Rori is the great-great-great …. whatever many great-granddaughter of my other / latest original character, SAORI DEARING, an uprising sympathizer who lived on Harlan’s World during the Envoy war / during the time of the destruction of Stronghold. [ the battle of stronghold is widely known as the battle where the Protectorate finally defeated the evil Envoys, murderers of children and women and whole families, terrorists who used sabotage, infiltration, mass murder, torture, bombings, wide spread terror attacks, etc. etc. etc. to try and overthrow the protectorate who wanted to do nothing more than keep the peace in known space etc. ] Rori and her older sister, CLAIRE DEARING, currently know nothing about their ancestor’s involvement with / support of the Uprising – which is probably for the best because Claire would probably die of mortification and Rori would loudly and proudly blast the news from the rooftops.

Claire, written by Liz @magicandsciencemuses, is a (mostly) upstanding citizen who works earnestly to better her way of life and has a great amount of respect for the law and a more than healthy respect / knowledge of what the Meths are capable of; she is one of the directors of the Bay City branch of Psychasec as well as being a well renowned scientist in the field of genetics and body mods, cloning, synth, etc. etc. She is very much the model child, works hard, works long hours, pays her taxes, follows the rules, tries very hard to keep out of trouble and avoid drama. ADDITIONAL NOTE: CLAIRE IS 200+ YEARS OLD. Rori is in her forties (even though she appears in her early twenties) – in Meth years, Rori is practically a BABY.

Rori, on the other hand, is pretty much the exact opposite. While she is also intelligent and well educated, she was the wild child from the get go and was always the one that came home with the scraped knees and the bloody noses and the torn clothes, whether it was from actually just falling the frack over her own feet or getting into a fight with someone twice her size in defense of someone else or because they offended her with some smart ass / ill thought out comment that provoked her short-fused (but typically short-lived) temper. She was almost always involved in some form of protests, some form of protect the planet, protect the species, protect the people, protect the sleeves movement, and became more and more focused on protecting the equality (or what is left of it) as she got ‘older’.

She believes that a lot of what is acceptable and norm when it comes to the treatment of sleeves when it comes to the prison system and victim restitution as a whole is beyond fucked up She believes that the whole essence of the prison system, stacks in storage, etc. is a huge step backwards and one that just does no good to anyone except those profiting financially from the system. Ripping someone out of their sleeve and sticking them into storage seems entirely opposite of helpful to her. There is no longer any opportunity for reform in the penal system. Being on ice doesn’t give you time to think. It doesn’t give you time to reflect on your life choices and realize what you’re missing. It doesn’t give you time for soul searching or to learn methods in which to cope, it doesn’t allow you to better yourself in any way – literally the only thing that it does it rip you out of one time and then toss you back out into the world in what was just a blink of an eye to you. Nothing changes. Worst case scenario, you’re in a stranger’s body, a hundred years later, maybe you’ve got a family member or someone that was told about you enough to show up and give you a place to crash for a few days while you get your shit sorted but.

Now you’re a stranger, with no working knowledge of the world, the politics or laws that have changed, the events in history that might have been world shatteringly important that you missed, no relevant job history, no contacts, no resources, and depending on what field of study or what kind of job you had, you might be entirely irrelevant plus - you’re a convict so what does that do for your likelihood of finding gainful employment - especially while in whatever broken down sleeve they give you on release ??? It pretty much guarantees the only life the newly released have to go back to is – crime.

And that’s not even getting onto the topic of renting out people’s bodies and how that just feels inherently wrong to her – they don’t even bother to try and use it as a deterrent tactics, it’s just a WAY OF LIFE and it just seems cruel and unusual to her. There have always been accrued costs of prison, one way or another, sticking a body on ice / suspending it / cryogenic storage or whatever is WAY cheaper than actually housing criminals used to be. And how easy is it for someone that’s corrupt to play that system ???? Want a particular sleeve for yourself or your partner but they won’t sleep with you? Get them convicted and rent it for a week. Have a Neo-C that you need out of the way at your job or that’s married to someone you want to pursue or that you have a grudge against and want to see them suffer / their family suffer? Set them up for even the smallest crime, because once they’re yanked out of their sleeve that’s it, bye-bye.

And it’s not just punishing the criminals! Seeing someone else walking and talking in the sleeve of your lover, your brother, your mother, your best friend and knowing it’s not them - it doesn’t matter how tough you are or act like you are, that hurts – knowing that that body is being used for god knows what and you can’t keep it safe / protect it ??? Knowing that the person’s sleeve is out and about because you couldn’t afford the mortgage payments to keep it hanging out empty until the person’s time was up and they can get put back in it ? That is brutal and cruel and unusual punishment to people that did nothing wrong but care.

So… yeah. Human rights / sleeves’ rights activist. Has had the occasional brush with the law in terms of protesting, the occasional riot or act of vandalism, threats against particular organizations or Meths or whomever it is that she’s up in arms against at the time but, generally low level stuff that hasn’t gotten her in a ton of hot water legally speaking. She actually does have a semi decent relationship with some of the beat cops or a detective here or there, she’s happy to turn over intel and information she finds about acts of actual violence or terrorism that she catches wind of and is especially happy to turn over anything she hears that deals with corrupt cops, politicians, Meths influence on anything with policy or wrangling positions of power for their chess pieces in law enforcement or political circles etc.

She does dabble in some drug use, she drinks, she smokes, she swears, she sleeps around, she has tattoo and piercings that fluctuate a lot - she is still in her birth sleeve (though second clone after an airtram derailment a few years back). She gambles, she shoots pool, she gets into the occasional fist fight, she has no problem calling anyone out on their bullshit but – she has a good heart and does her best to help out people in trouble around her whenever she can. She drifts through a lot of circles; she has friends in all manner of walks of life in the underworld and legit circles, she makes it pretty clear she doesn’t have any interest in being involved in drama outside of her choosing and tends to usually manage to keep from pissing off the wrong people (she’s way more likely to have enemies among the politicians, the Meths, the policy makers than get caught up in a turf war etc).

She has a loft apartment in Licktown, but she also has four or five other roommates and it’s very crowded and busy so she tends to prefer to crash at her hookup’s place when an option and also makes a semi regular habit of showing up at Claire’s in the middle of the night and crashing on her couch for a few days. Despite their glaring differences, the sisters are actually pretty close and as much as they rib on each other, they would not hesitate to come to the defense of the other if necessary, in a heartbeat.

Rori does come from a family of Meths. Her lifestyle choices, her behaviour, the fact she lives on the Ground and in Licktown are all huge sources of embarrassment for the majority of her family. The only reason she isn’t actually just cut loose and written off as the black sheep of the family is because Claire wouldn’t stand for it. Rori does have access to a large stipend, which she does live off of at times but in general she prefers to make her own way - she works as a bartender, a tattoo artist, odd jobs here and there. Whatever she doesn’t use of her monthly allowance, though, she does pull out every month and donate to a number of different activist groups, shelters, etc. - wherever needs it the most at that time.

#BIOGRAPHY.#BIOGRAPHY. ( rori dearing. )#DO NOT REBLOG.

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hookaroo · 5 years

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Vocivore, Ltd. (31 of 41?)

Also on FFN and AO3 (ListerofTardis)

Tagging @ouatwinterwhump, @killian-whump, @sancocnutclub, @killianjonesownsmyheart1, and @courtorderedcake <3

***THE MOST WONDERFUL COVER ART BY @cocohook38 HERE!!!!!******

***Chapter 12 animation and art that will absolutely astound you!!!!!!!!!BOLDED AGAIN IN CASE YOU WANT TO REFRESH YOUR MEMORY BEFORE READING THIS RELATED FLASHBACK...*************************

***LETHAL Chapter 19 art in all of its BLOODSTAINED GLORY!!!!************

**POOR STABBED KILLIAN falling into the sheriff station! Ch. 7 & 23 art!!**

****KILLIAN AND HIS MASTER IN THE GORGEOUS CATHEDRAL!!!!!!!!!!!! CHAPTER 1 ART THAT KILLS ME EVERY TIME I SEE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*********

*****AMAZING AND ALSO HEARTBREAKING COVER ART!!!!! MY POOR BOY, HELPLESS AND SCREAMING WHILE HE SLOWLY LOSES HIS GRIP ON REALITY… D: COCOHOOK38 IS TRYING TO KILL US ALL!!!!*************

***AAAAHHHH!!! THANK YOU MY WONDERFUL COCONUT FRIEND!!!!!!***

Two days ago...

The barn fire was getting too big too quickly. While it was true that the Master’s orders called for total destruction, there were multiple other buildings on the list, and this would alert the authorities far too soon.

Sure enough, before the slaves had a chance to regroup, a siren sounded in the distance, growing closer at an alarming speed. Killian ducked around the corner of the building farthest from the road while he considered his options.

Above all, Killian desperately wished he could allow himself to be captured, to give himself up to be tended with proper medical care and painkillers and a soft bed. He wanted more than anything for this nightmare to be over, to simply collapse in the arms of his beloved and admit defeat. But then they would not have one iota of gain to show for all of the suffering. They would lose their advantage and would have to come up with another way to defeat the monster, a possibility that seemed more hopeless with each passing day.

As it was, Killian did have the inklings of an idea buried deep, meticulously guarded from the Master’s probing thoughts. If he could somehow communicate the particulars to his Swan without the collar camera overhearing... But it all depended upon his Master not seeing him as a threat. Which meant continuing on with the charade and the misery.

It was the Chevelle: Detective Jones and his new partner, David. What Killian had been expecting and dreading at the same time. He would not be permitted to stand idly by while his fellow slaves were rounded up by his friends. He had a sword; his Master would oblige him to use it. And both of them were formidable opponents, especially in his weakened state.

ELIMINATE THEIR ESCAPE ROUTE, growled the Master's voice in his head, slightly quieter than normal but not by much. From the shaky, unreliable views at throat level, it would not be able to discern details yet, only that the new arrivals represented both a threat to its current slaves as well as potential victims to add to its horde.

While the two officers climbed out of the vehicle and raced to investigate the blazing barn, Killian staggered around the opposite corner, behind their backs and to the concealed side of the car. He could hear definite sounds of battle: stun guns and then pistol shots as his friends struggled against far too many opponents. With a grunt of exertion, Killian drove the point of his blade into the front left tire.

Before long, Jones and David decided to retreat. They were approaching the car. Killian made his way to the back left wheel well, grimacing. The confrontation was inevitable now.

Tasked with clearing their escape route, David was the first to spot him.

“Killian?”

He did not fire his gun, which Killian confirmed was his regular pistol and not the stun weapon. Damn it, there would be no easy way out of this one. Killian had no difficulty summoning his bleakest expression. Never mind seeing his friend for the first time in weeks; that friend would likely never trust him again. He would have to make a very realistic attempt to bring David down, possibly hurting him in the process. Was it any wonder, then, that he felt no joy at the reunion?

THAT ONE APPEARS TO HAVE A NOURISHING VOICE. CAPTURE HIM IF YOU CAN, TRIPOD, BUT DO NOT ALLOW YOURSELF TO BE TAKEN.

David was trying to talk him down, stepping carefully forward with his hands raised, his pistol loose in his grip and pointing toward the sky. As one in a trance, Killian stumbled his way to the third tire, speared it with his weapon, then paused to catch his breath. He could see the prince slowly reaching for the handcuffs at his belt. In the background, Jones was engaged in a desperate hand-to-hand struggle; like it or not, Killian's fellow slaves may take care of him on their own.

Killian allowed the point of his sword to rest on the ground, leaning back against the car in only slightly exaggerated exhaustion. He would not go to David; he needed David to bring the fight to him. It was all he had the energy for. Breathing heavily, Killian tried to block out his father-in-law's continued pleas, his reminders who waited for him at home, who was worried about him. None of it mattered if he was not successful in his quest.

Mere steps away, David had holstered his pistol and was reaching, almost too slowly to see, toward Killian's wrist.

“Come on, buddy. Let's get you taken care of, huh?”

Killian measured distances out of the corner of his eye. Waiting until the last possible second. Counting on the possibility that David would hold back and expect Killian to do the same. That Killian's true nature would result in the same feelings of restraint which guided David's actions.

With only centimeters to spare, Killian lashed out with the butt of his sword, driving it into David's solar plexus. The prince doubled over, winded, and Killian did not allow him time to recover. He followed the blow with a strike to the temple. Already twisted slightly as he fumbled for his pistol, David went limp and fell heavily to the ground, landing on his side. The thump of his body meeting dirt seemed to vibrate all the way up to the pit of Killian’s stomach where guilt normally lived.

KILL THIS ONE. BRING THE OTHER.

David seemed to be unconscious. He could not resist. Killian had run out of excuses. His Master was watching, and the nearest approaching siren was still much too far. Feigning breathlessness, Killian lurched the two steps that separated him from the helpless form of his father-in-law. Struggling to maintain his balance, he stepped over the obstacle, positioned himself behind David, and used a vicious kick to turn him onto his stomach. Then, as he straddled the body for maximum control, he allowed himself one quick glance in Jones' direction: now armed with a sword himself, the detective was finishing off his final opponent. If he could time this just right…

Killian magnified his tremors for the Master’s benefit as he held his blade poised above his target. Just as important as timing was the selection of a landing site. But he had to make it look as if his physical condition caused him to miss a fatal blow.

One good thing about David being unconscious: Killian didn't have to suppress the additional remorse that would have surely resulted from the pained reaction to his sword clattering off of David's shoulder blade.

Killian staggered as if surprised by the obstruction, and as he did so, he noticed that Jones had dropped his final attacker. With a dispassion born of his now-familiar mantra, Killian readied his weapon for a second strike.

Jones arrived just in time. Hope kidnapped, Hope tortured, Hope dead.

BRING THIS ONE TO ME!

The mental command had a noticeably greater insistence than usual, bordering on frantic hunger. It was the closest it had ever come to instilling the mindless compulsion that drove all other slaves.

Killian knew why his Master was so adamant. And could not allow it.

Jones engaged in their shared tactic of posturing, and even if he weren't playing the part of a broken-down, hopeless slave, Killian was too weary to answer back.

The pair had sparred before, a friendly contest here and there, a way to keep up their skills in a more peaceful world than the one in which they’d spent most of their lives. And Killian could tell right away that, just as he did during those contests of no import, Jones was playing it safe, holding back to prevent injury, and that was the last thing Killian wanted him to do. His Master would notice if the fight were not authentic, and if they both curbed their strikes, it would be revealed as a farce.

The slash to his sword arm was entirely accidental; Killian knew by the look on Jones’ face. But the burning wound was somehow enough to spur the fight into high gear, with resulting bloodshed on both sides. They traded blows. Killian could feel half-healed wounds beginning to open with the exertion. Jones, too, bled from more than one gash but seemed not to notice.

Killian could not catch his breath. The scene begin to take on a shadowy, murky quality and he moved solely by instinct. Tenuous footing caused a very real stumble, quick reflexes allowed Jones to catch his sword arm, and Killian should have allowed it to end then. But his left arm was free, and he moved without thinking, or perhaps his Master’s hunger for a twin Tripod overcame his usual immunity to its edicts. He swung his stump with all the strength he could muster, driving the wrist ring straight into the detective’s face.

Crystalline flames consumed Killian's wrist. Jagged tendrils climbed his forearm like steadily growing cracks in a pane of glass. He could do nothing but cradle the arm in breathless anguish as he waited for the defeating blow.

TAKE HIM, TRIPOD. TAKE HIM NOW!

His Master's command screamed through his mind and was just enough to mask his terrible pain. The nearing sirens would explain the urgency: not much longer before the opportunity was lost. Clutching the throbbing limb to his side, Killian responded to the order and struck out blindly with his blade.

The shock wave of steel against steel raced up his arm, jolting even the fiercely complaining wrist on the opposite side. Somehow taken by surprise, Jones lost his sword and stumbled back into the outstretched arm of a downed slave.

The Master's exultation as the detective hit the ground was short-lived. The crunch of gravel announced the arrival of backup, and though Jones was unarmed and struggling against the grip on his ankle, Killian would not have enough time to secure him and drag him away. The Master knew it too.

TOO LATE, it growled. DISPOSE OF HIM QUICKLY AND RETREAT.

Killian could not bring himself to look at the resignation on his friend's face as he readied his blade. In fact, the only reason he managed to watch at all was because he might miss and cause serious harm otherwise.

A car door slammed. His sword stabbed down into flesh.

GO, howled the Master.

"Killian!" came the frantic cry from behind.

It was her--Hope kidnapped--it was--Hope tortured--oh gods--Hope dead--Hope DEAD--Swan. His Swan. He only had to turn and she would be there. Right before him, in the flesh, not a bittersweet memory seen through a haze of pain--HOPE DEAD!!!

Killian was staggering away before he was even aware of it, desperate to preserve the illusion, to keep his resolve from crashing to the ground like all of his groaning comrades around him. If he saw her... if he met her eyes…

She was calling him, begging him to stop, and just hearing her voice again was enough to bring him to tears. He missed her so much; their separation rivaled the worst of the tortures, and maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he abandoned their plot--HopeDeadHopeDeadHopeDead--

He heard the pistol discharging at the same instant as a crippling pain burrowed its way into his back, knocking him forward, flat on his face in the grass. But dazzling lights exploded in his brain and zapped in scalding waves along every single nerve path in his body, and he did not even feel the jarring landing.

Present (Friday, continued)...

The guards in the surveillance room were considerably more alert than the one at the armory. Perhaps due to their proximity to their Master--they were, after all, in the same building--or the fact that it had reason to visit more frequently. Whatever the explanation, they’d leapt to their feet the instant Killian had pushed the door open.

They weren’t armed and probably could not fathom ill-intent from a fellow slave. Still, the moment they saw his sword, they must have known he was up to no good. Two charged him recklessly, no thought for their own safety, while the third managed to lift her wooden chair to use as a shield-slash-weapon.

With the sword hilt, Killian quickly felled the first two assailants, every single movement tearing at the screws in his neck. He growled and stumbled over their unconscious forms just as a set of chair legs swiped at his midsection. A fragmented pair of wooden rods clattered to the floor as Killian brought his blade down hard. The remaining slave staggered and snarled, but she did not back off. Lurching forward, she swiped the still-vibrating chair in the other direction, forcing Killian to dodge the splintered edges coming for his face. One of the intact legs caught him in the abdomen, driving the breath from his lungs and doubling him over.

Blindly, through darkening vision, mind-numbing pain, and the desperate panic of not being able to breathe, Killian lashed out with his sword. There was a thunk as the blade contacted wood, and he only barely managed to hold on through the shock wave. The chair flew upward, the seat back slammed into the woman’s forehead, and she crumpled backwards in a heap, the damaged chair on top.

Killian clutched at his belly and finally managed a small breath. Eyes watering, heart racing, he limped to the row of monitors even as stars twinkled in his peripheral vision. He had no time for recovery, no time to secure the temporarily stunned guards. His Master would have sensed the threat. It could be here at any time. And there was no clinging to the charade of obedience anymore.

“Swan,” he wheezed, praying she’d had enough time for preparation. He squinted at the first screen. “Entrance to the hospital Emergency Department.” He sucked a deeper breath, held it, grimacing. Screen two. “Holding cells in the sheriff station…. City Hall auditorium…” The fourth and fifth cameras were in locations he could not identify, possibly outside of Storybrooke. Gritting his teeth, Killian hobbled to that side of the desk, noting that the first two feeds had already been replaced by other images. Emma was ready! They may have a chance after all.

Killian had little clue how to switch the feeds of the last two cameras, but he began clicking randomly in the program regardless. He had to find one which Emma could control. The image changed. A slave collar, overseeing the destruction of property. Then someone’s bedroom from their webcam. A random front porch. Killian battled rising urgency. There was no time. There had to be… there!

“The cemetery,” he barked, already moving to the final screen. “Turn them on, love! My Master could be--”

The inside door swung open with a crash. And into the room, wearing an expression of pure malice, scuttled the imposing shape of the scream-eating monster.

His Master. They were too late.

#ouat fanfiction #killian jones #wish realm killian #david nolan #emma swan #captain charming #killian vs. killian #sword fight #tased #cliffhanger #honestly the next several chapters will end with cliffhangers #sorry #but anyone have a guess what they're up to in the present timeline?#Vocivore ltd

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hauduyamaek-games · 5 years

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No, really, what kind of game am I making?

For a few days now I’ve been wrestling with the exact genre of my game. I know I want it to be story-driven, and I want other characters to feel like direct assets to the player rather than just being a cheerleading squad for a single player character. The trouble is, as I’ve touched on before, is that there really aren’t that many video game genres that are well-suited at having characters work together in a single-player context. And those that are, typically of the turn-based variety, are pretty unwieldy.

While before I was strongly dedicated to the idea of using a turn-based tactics system for my game, I realized that a turn-based tactics system is pretty cumbersome for small battles. In most turn-based tactics games, a single battle will be the time-equivalent of an entire level in a different game genre. I thought maybe I should then reserve tactical combat for boss battles, but the player really should have time to get used to the higher-stakes mechanics of the game, which is what little scrubby trash mobs are good for. But again, it seems like it’ll be really unpleasant for the player to go through the disruption and housekeeping that are virtually inherent to breaking out the tactics map just so they can beat up a filthpossum in the woods.

Another option I have is to use a more traditional turn-based combat system as seen in most jRPGs. Obviously I wouldn’t be satisfied with just using a vanilla “Select an attack and then it happens” type gameplay loop, but setting that(and potential improvements) aside for now, it’s worth considering whether this will be as harmful to the gameplay flow as tactics might be. While lighter-weight than a tactics screen, jRPG-type combat is less ‘organic,’ I feel. It’s less analogous to how people would probably behave in a combat situation, at least by modern understanding of how combat is conducted. And it still, albeit to a lesser degree, carries the trouble of interrupting the other half of the game(exploring the map) by yanking the player into another plane of existence.

By “another plane of existence,” I don’t really mean “a change in the visuals of the environment as if the characters have entered ~The Battle Zone~” or something, I more mean a change in how the game is functionally played. When a player character is navigating the environment, it’s natural to let the player control that character directly via the joystick or d-pad. But in turn-based games(as we understand them) the method of control changes. Suddenly everything is digital and/or indirect in the movement. You’re giving commands rather than taking control, and I feel that is an inferior way to give the player agency. It’s a level removed from the things going on.

Option three is to drop the turn-based aspect of it almost entirely. Imagine a platforming game where you have a selection of characters, and in some situations, the character gets tired and you want to swap in a new one. Let’s explore this idea, because it’s not totally free of problems.

First of all, it’s troublesome to have only one character active at a time because it implies in this context that they wouldn’t be active at all. At least in turn-based combat, you can see the other characters are right there and that their turn will come shortly. They’re ready for it. In our hypothetical turn-styled platformer, there isn’t an immediately obvious way to have them waiting in the wings. Will they be holding still while the bad guy stomps around? Will they be off-screen entirely, safe and warm in the face of this alleged threat? Will they be attacking on their own, begging the question as to why the player needs to be involved at all?

I guess the best answer would be to have them following closely behind the actively-controlled character, jumping and moving in close formation. It’s slightly goofy, but it doesn’t otherwise present any ludonarrative hurdles. Let’s say a tired character will wait to the side and our fresh characters will be in this formation. At least that’ll provide a nice visual clue to what your options are.

As for characters that are fresh and ready but the player doesn’t need to switch to yet, it seems unrealistic that they wouldn’t be doing a whole lot. Maybe they could have assist-moves(as with a fighting game) that they could do when commanded by the player.

The last problem is one worth considering. Presumably, if these characters are appreciably different, that implies that they would also have different abilities and thus control differently as well, even if it just pertains to the method in which they attack. Because our pretense of teamwork involves each character taking turns when tired, that means we would be forcing the player to adapt to a slightly different control scheme each time. I’m not sure that’s wise, at least in real-time combat. If things slowed down for our player while they acquaint themselves with the character, that might be something else.

Which leads me into option four: A closer hybridization of turn-based and platforming controls. Anyone who has played Transistor by Supergiant Games might have some idea at what I’m getting at. In Transistor’s combat, the player character can navigate along a non-grid terrain and select moves to use in whatever direction they’re facing, and the game keeps track of your moves and movement for each turn. Can this be adapted into a control scheme for multiple characters?

My immediate thoughts reflect the potential for fertile ground in this direction. Logically it shouldn’t be too hard to have characters move in around in this way and execute their actions simultaneously. I think the part that’s actually difficult will be how to handle evading enemy attacks. The enemies might telegraph their actions in the hypothetical pause of player move decisions, but will the player see exactly when the foe attacks? That seems like it might be too easy. Will they only see if the foe is planning to attack and not know exactly when? That seems a little unfair since their moves will be set in stone when they resolve the turn. Maybe the player could learn through trial-and-error roughly how long after the foe telegraphs their attack that they will strike and then plan out an evasive maneuver as part of that character’s turn movement.

Either way, this doesn’t resolve the problem of how to defend against attacks that occur while the player characters’ turns are cooling down. Maybe the player can pause during an enemy attack and give a defend order. There’d probably be a reaction time involved for the character so that the defense wouldn’t be guaranteed even if the player paused before the attack hit. This would reward the player for identifying the threat sooner.

The advantage over this entire system is that it would gel more easily with exploratory gameplay and with the type of one-hit trash mob that could potentially populate the world. But there’s a pretty considerable obstacle: This would be a pain in the ass to program, which is risky for a type of gameplay that I don’t know for sure would be fun. Luckily I enjoy a challenge... In this case I would have to think carefully about the code logic before I get in and start programming anything I would think I’d need.

At least I have option three as a fallback if option four is too complex.

#game design #game programming

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maiji · 6 years

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Three Generals Showdown

I was in the middle of something else when Barricades from Attack on Titan came on and I was like OHHH NOOOOO because I was overcome with the urge to drop everything and draw something cool instead. Well, at least attempt cooler than what I was working on at the time.

If there were ever a full-on mortal combat scenario between the three generals - just them, no interference/support - how would you bet on the outcome?

What we know from the actual series:

Hokushin is intelligent and strategic, employing psychology in his battles. He has demonstrated he can catch a significantly more powerful opponent off guard with a power level difference as massive as D class VS S class (which some people might say is roughly comparable to an ant VS God lmao). However, this was a brief demonstration match against a Yusuke who was unaware of the nature of Hokushin’s powers nor the extent of his own, and also not a fight to the finish. In addition, Hokushin is honourable, a.k.a. not likely to play dirty in a fight even if his life depended on it.

Shachi is not necessarily the brightest, but not stupid either. He's the exact opposite of Hokushin - conniving and opportunistic, having killed all potential threats to his position as Yomi's general (until Kurama).

Kirin we know the least about, but he's definitely more opportunistic than Hokushin, and all signs point to him being smarter/more strategic than Shachi. This is extrapolated from his caution and effectiveness in dealing with Mukuro for two centuries - see "On writing Kirin". (In comparison, Kurama comments that Yomi was infinitely patient in letting Shachi hang around for as long as he did.)

On pure base stats (which you can see in the manga and slapped onto some fanart here), Hokushin is the weakest of the three. He only beats Shachi in a few defense/endurance-focused areas, but not by all that much.

Shachi's offensive power is practically double Hokushin's.

Kirin is significantly stronger than both Hokushin and Shachi in every single category, and his total points exceeds the other two generals combined. This isn't a three-kings-stalemate scenario where all three powers are nearly equal in strength. In a one-on-one of Hokushin VS Kirin or Shachi VS Kirin, I'd bet Kirin every time.

With all that in mind, here's my 0.02. I feel like my conclusions are super obvious based on the above summary lmao (Spoiler: I think Hokushin's odds are not good.)

Kirin would easily emerge the victor. The only way for Hokushin or Shachi to stand a real chance against him is if they BOTH target him together and manage to take him out first, then they can focus on each other for a slightly more even matchup. But even if they both realize this - which they must - I highly doubt it would happen because of their diametrically-opposed natures. And anyways, Kirin would obviously realize this too, so his best move is to make the first one. He'll just come out and mow one of them down as fast as he can so that it doesn't give them any opportunity.

So, what's the order of defeat, i.e., whom does Kirin go after first? I say Shachi because I think Kirin, like everyone else, would be like "UGH can't stand this guy" and fry him to a crispy fish before dealing with Hokushin who is a much more palatable opponent lol. Also, if you're focusing your efforts on someone else, I'm willing to bet Hokushin won't attack from behind, whereas you can rest assured Shachi will be doing anything he thinks will benefit him, so it's safer to get rid of Shachi first.

However, the above assumes everyone's starting at ground zero and there were no other dealings going on before this.

If we wanna talk stealth coalitions, again, Kirin has a distinct advantage. As the strongest, he doesn’t really need to ally with one of the other generals, and he's the best strategic option to guarantee victory for your side - assuming you feel confident about being in a super unbalanced alliance where you’re sharing things with someone who could easily crush you too lmao. Hokushin is technically the most appealing alliance partner because he wouldn't betray you, but he's unlikely to make an alliance he doesn't believe in.

In a best-case scenario for Hokushin, he should ally with Kirin in advance. Besides being the most logical option (because Hokushin can’t exactly ally with himself...), the official narrative also indicated it was a potential direction - before Raizen dies, he recommends Yusuke to ally with Mukuro's forces. But, because this is still such a problematic decision for a character like Hokushin, I think this would only happen if Raizen or Yusuke said something similar to him as well, or if the scale of impact were far beyond Hokushin alone, i.e., it was the best option if many people's lives were at greater risk otherwise - see "On writing Hokushin".

Nobody wants to ally with Shachi, but he's probably the easiest of the three generals to manipulate into thinking an alliance is for his own benefit and then to trip him up. IMO this tactic is way too out of line for Hokushin to pull, but feasible for Kirin depending on how sadistic you write him. He could bait Shachi with some kind of one-sided fake "alliance", they both kill Hokushin, and then Kirin kills Shachi.

Ohh, I know, for ultimate drama that's still believable to their characters as depicted in the series, you could contrive a story where Kirin "allies" with Shachi by making Shachi think he's got some secret upper hand to be able to control Kirin during or after the fact so that he drops his reservations about an unbalanced alliance, they target Hokushin in a two-cats-and-a-mouse type thing, and then just as Shachi is about to deal the final killing blow, Kirin slaughters Shachi. And then ... OK I already have enough comics and fics I need to work on and this whole thing seems headed for long drawn-out torture/evisceration/whatever which isn't the kind of thing I usually write anyways. BUT IT SEEMS LIKE AN INEVITABLE CONCLUSION

#yu yu hakusho #Fanart #hokushin #kirin #shachi #brush pen #ink #blood #youkai #rokurokubi #art by Maiji/Mary Huang

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marylandsystema2 · 3 years

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Boxing, Sambo and Mud Fighting . . . – USAdojo.com

This incident took place when I was 14 years of age.

I grew up in Tver, a fairly tough industrial city, 2 hours North of Moscow. I lived at home only on weekends, as for all 5 weekdays, I had to stay at a boarding school full of orphans and very rough kids from seriously troubled families. Naturally, martial arts were among our key interests. Out of 13 boys in my class, 12 trained in Boxing and one did Sambo Wrestling. Of course, I was quite skeptical about that one boy and had a much higher opinion of Boxing. Using fists seemed more decisive and to the point – just 2 or 3 good punches and either you are a winner or you can bravely run away (easily because you were up on your feet anyway).

Our Boxing instructor, a certified Candidate-Master, came right to the boarding school to teach us and talked a lot about “the importance of real life experience”, so we tried to apply our fists to work whenever and wherever possible. His method of teaching was based on his size and mass – about 6’4″ and 230 pounds. To us, the excited youth, he seemed to be a giant capable of knocking out a horse. We tried to copy his manner of fighting of a European heavy-weight – slow, collected and very powerful punches. The only problem was that we all skinny and agile trying to fight as if we were big and massive. It must have been very funny to watch. I realized that later, when I entered my first competition and saw other boxers, I was amazed that there were so many other ways of fighting.

Street fights were a very common occurrence; they were quick, often bloody and involving many participants. I have never seen pure locks and chokes applied on the ground. All grappling techniques were mixed with kicking and punching, use of numerous weapons, including rocks, sticks, and chains. As we were all teens, fights would only last less than a minute until the first shout: “Police!” Then it was time to run as quickly as possible. The ones who were caught on the fight scene were indiscriminately blamed and ended up in detention. Moreover, walking off a grappling scene with ripped clothing, dirt and blood all over – would also mean getting arrested. Thus, boxing tactics were much preferred, especially a strong powerful punch that settled the argument – that was our goal and the ultimate masterpiece.

There was a joke around. One guy asked a boxer how was his match. The boxer replied: “If only they did not turn off the lights in the gym – I would totally destroy my opponent…”

To me it showed how magnificent a punch should be – that the person would get so wiped out that he would not even realize that he was knocked out.

Having said all that, I’d like to share with you an experience that is memorable for the total mix of martial arts, nasty weather, age and size discrepancy and emotional drama. One day when I was home on a weekend, I saw that a good friend from my apartment building had a lot of bruises on him. When I asked him why, reluctantly he said that his drunken step-father had beaten up his mom, my friend tried to protect her and the step-father had beaten him up as well. That made me very angry and I went ahead to set things right with his step-father right there and then.

I must tell you that at that age, I was a very skinny entity, weighing about 100 pounds, while the step-father was around 40 years old and a huge man of over 200 pounds. The action took place at the side of our building by a fence. It was autumn, late evening, almost dark outside, with light rain turning into endless drizzle. A square yard area was being prepared for a skating ring and for now, fully covered with extreme dirt and mud.

The step-father, big, brutal and drunk, like an angry monster, was walking through the mud and I determinedly emerged right in front of him…

Full of indignation, I moved towards him shouting why he had done such a horrible thing and demanding for him to never do it again. He stared back at me with disbelief. His rage was building up as he began to raise his hands to either push me away or hit me. My one year of boxing practice didn’t go in vain, the words of my Boxing teacher popped up in my mind: “with your weight and speed – hit first” and I landed a mighty hook into his jaw… He fell onto his knees and I was truly amazed and pleased with my power. A moment later, I realized that the true reason he fell was that he was drunk and slipped in the mud. He wasn’t the only one falling; I was quickly slipping and falling myself right next to him. He got to his knees and tried to hold me down. That’s when I started to regret my skepticism about wrestling and my total absence of ground fighting knowledge. Unbelievably, I found some “hollow areas” where his pressure was less crushing and slid through those areas making my way through the mud underneath. While he was on his hands and knees, I kicked him. He grabbed my leg and easily pulled me sliding down into the mud. Fear of death and desire to live played a big part in the speed with which I was jumping up to my feet. I stood up and hit him once more. He fell. Again it was not because of the particular power of my strikes but because he was drunk and the ground was incredibly slippery.

I was then able to kick him as hard as I could. (Now I know that emotional kicking is very unwise in a fight, you have to calculate your force based on the situation.) I didn’t know it then and my fervent kick made me slide and fall flat on my back. It was a kick in the ribs, presumably a painful one, because now his intention to kill me escalated into total growling rage. As I attempted to get up, he grabbed the top part of my sweater like a mad animal. I could tell by his face that he was about to finish me off right now and that made me do something out of the ordinary…

His grip was so powerful, his face was so furious and I was so desperate that I slid out of my sweater like a snake leaving its skin behind. I slipped out without even feeling his hands on me. And then I was saved…

We both heard the familiar shouting: “Call the police!!!” The man’s wife was apparently there. Obviously, when police would arrive she would testify totally against me. So as he stopped for a moment, I ran like never before, concluding this fight on the usual note. I had no shirt underneath that sweater and was drenched in dirt from top to bottom, so I had to avoid all well-lit areas on the run home.

All this time, I was wondering why my friend, who stood near by wasn’t helping my fight. Later I realized that the whole battle only took less than 30 seconds. Another thing that upset me was the loss of my sweater. I had so few in my possession that loosing any one was a significant adversity.

For weeks and months afterwards, this man kept trying to shoot me with his hunting rifle, but that’s another story.

It really was a memorable fight for me. Having been pretty successful in street fights up to that point, it made me look at life more seriously. I faced something new – a man much older than me, he was a different entity of movements and force, psychology and completeness. It gave me plenty of questions to analyze later. None of the other combat arts that I encountered in the years to come gave me satisfactory answers. Only when I have practiced Systema for a while, I understood the keys to success: staying calm, recognizing how every single situation gives different options to act, continuous movement, moving the body without the use of arms and legs, and futility of trying to overpower an opponent who is bigger, heavier and more experienced. I also saw a common mistake in many fights – people “getting stuck on clothing” – when the opponent grabs their clothing they put all the efforts into trying to rip it out of his hand.

What’s more, numerous times I observed how a stance and preparation for a strike makes you visible, tangible and thus vulnerable. I noticed that in confrontations if you take upon an obligation to help a friend he may not necessarily feel committed to helping you, so it is good to have friends on both sides. And finally, while the core to survival is not to succumb to fear, I found that there is a type of ‘brave emotional’ fear that makes us swiftly move and thus survive, but still does not provide us with full control that we get from Systema training. Enjoy yourself!

This article was published on July 04, 2007.

from Maryland Systema https://marylandsystema.com/boxing-sambo-and-mud-fighting-usadojo-com/

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rookie-dm-disasters · 3 years

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Chapter 17: Seize the Crown

Niama led the party to where she encountered the kraul city. They saw firsthand that there was little that they could do in terms of an assault. Let alone anything Betelgeuse could do. If a structure had no rhyme or reason, it would be difficult to identify any points to attack. The mission remained, however. They needed to get the crown of the queen, or at least a piece of the crown, and leave. Not letting Betelgeuse get his way. Niama looked at the outskirts of the underground city and saw several guards lining the perimeter, as well as a main gate. She didn’t like the idea of walking through the front door, but this hive looked packed to the point where being caught was inevitable. And being captured by the enemy sounded worse. “I have a plan.” Said Niama. “Is it a good plan?” Asked Thorfreyer. “Better than what you would come up with.” Niama spoke under her breath. “We will have to find a way to convince the queen to willingly give us some of her alunan.” “Okay, but how?” Asked Pumpeck. “I haven’t gotten that far yet.” Niama looked up at the body of the queen. The massive hanging body was an imposing figure in the city. With that as her resting place, it sent a clear message to the people of the city. They are always being watched. “Maybe we can tell her the wurms are going to attack. We can use that information as a bargaining chip and ask for a piece of the crown in return.” It was a good plan, all things considered. If the kraul could get something from it, surely, they would be grateful enough to make a trade. But did the kraul understand the concept of trading? It was clear that Betelgeuse held prejudice against them, but he made it sound like the kraul were savages connected to a hive mind. Any normal negotiations would go smoothly under these conditions, but if what Betelgeuse said held any weight, the circumstances would go south fast. And how could they even prove the truth of their statements? Would the queen demand proof? It was a risky tactic no matter how she looked at it, but it was the best she had. “What do you all think?” She asked the party. They all nodded in agreement, unable to produce a better course of action. Together, they walked to the front gate of the kingdom, the guards leveled their spears at the approaching party. The buzzing of the wings within the city grew to a loud rumble that shook their eardrums. They could see the eyes of so many insects peering at them. They saw no familiarity on those eyes. No emotions they could read. The kraul were alien to them. One of the guards stepped forward and proceeded to make a series of noises that the party could only understand as buzzing and clicking. After a pause, the guard spoke in common. “Apologies. It has been a while since we had visitors. What do you want?” Niama put a hand up to her allies, signaling them to stay put. She took a few steps forward. “We come baring an urgent message for your queen.” “And what message might that be?” Despite speaking in common, his speaking was still interspersed with buzzes and clicks. “Are you familiar with the wurms?” The guard tensed at the mention of them. His grip tightened on his spear. “Are you with them?” Niama put her hands up, signaling that she didn’t want to fight. “Their leader thinks that we are, but I assure you, our goals and his goals do not align.” “Did you say the wurms have a leader? How is that even possible? They do not understand the concepts of hierarchy. Perhaps it be best you share this information with the queen herself.” He made a chittering noise and more guards were summoned. “Are you alright if we fly you all up to her?” The party nodded. “Very good.” The members of the party each had several kraul grabbing them to fly them up to the queen. Pumpeck only needed one, but it took five in total to lift Thorfreyer off the ground. They were lifted into the underground sky, and they could clearly see the full city below them as they raised higher and higher. As they drew closer, they could appreciate how massive the queen truly was at this point. The queen, in terms of size, was almost as big as Betelgeuse himself. Thorfreyer couldn’t help but want to see them fight. The queens body looked like parts of it almost had a sponge like quality. And they could see some kraul crawling out of those spongey patches. Was the queen also acting as some sort of primary hive? They were brought to the queen’s head. She tilted her head, looking like she was ready to play with a new toy. “What have you brought me?” She said. The leader of the guard addressed the queen. “These outsiders have information on a possible attack. They claim the wurms have mobilized and now have a leader.” “Is that right?” She looked at the group. “Tell me more of this leader.” Niama cleared her throat, mustering her courage. “Before that, we would ask a favor.” “I am a benevolent ruler. You will of course be compensated for your service.” “We would ask for a small piece of your crown.” The guard lifted his spear and pointed the blade at Niama’s throat. “Learn your place, outsider.” The queen made a sound they could only assume was a chuckle that vibrated the air around them. “It is quite alright. To my understanding, the metal my crown is made of is quite rare on the surface. And with how small they are, I’m sure I wouldn’t even notice a small sliver missing. She lifted her hand, the fingers like blades, and made on swift motion against the crown. A small sheet of metal fell from it. The guard flew closer to the queen and collected the fragment of the crown so that he could deliver it to Niama. The queen cut off enough to fit in her hand, but it was rather thin. She hoped that this would be enough to repair the machine. “Now.” Said the queen. “Tell me what the wurms are planning.” Niama explained that Betelgeuse was using them to scope out the kraul city. Once they had an attack route planned, they were to report back. Once the plan was set, they would attack as soon as possible. “I see.” Said the queen. “Perhaps we can set a trap for our wriggly friends.” The queen gestured to a tunnel at the far end of the city. “Tell him to attack from there. With all the wurms funneling through, we’ll be able to set up a barricade and pick them off as they enter.” “A wonderful plan your majesty.” Said Niama. “We will do that straight away.” The queen nodded her head, letting her guards know to lower them to the ground. They were a little shaky after being face to face with a beast as massive as that. The kraul guard said to them. “Leave now and fulfil the plan. We will muster our troops and prepare for the assault.” He beat his wings and flew into the sky. The party left the city through the front gates and began walking back to where Betelgeuse was based. “I’d say that went well. We got the alunan and didn’t have to fight that thing.” Said Thorfreyer. “What do we do now?” “Aren’t we going to tell Betelgeuse to attack from that tunnel like the queen said?” Pumpeck asked. They already had what they came for. Leaving the tunnels and returning to the surface was an option not totally out of question. If they told Betelgeuse to attack, the wurms would most likely slither into a slaughter. But if they left, the wurms would find another way to attack eventually, and possibly win. And they all knew that if Betelgeuse got to the surface and achieved his goal, it would cause havoc for the citizens of Ravnica. “This is a problem we should take care of now.” Niama took charge. “If we treat it like a later problem, the situation will only worsen.” The rest of the party nodded in agreement. Before they could reach the clearing in the tunnels that housed the lake of wurms, Betelgeuse appeared before them. “What news do you bring me?” He said. His eyes were wide in anticipation. He had been waiting for this time to strike for years. He was so close to getting his revenge he could almost taste it. Thorfreyer stepped forward and spoke in a commanding voice. “There is a tunnel at the far side of their city. It looks to be completely unguarded. The queen herself rests on the ceiling overlooking the entire city. She’ll see you once you are in, but by the time the soldiers can gather, you will have already put a large dent in their numbers.” Betelgeuse’s lips curled. “And what will you five be doing?” “We will attack the front gates after you and your army make the initial assault. They’ll focus all their efforts on you, and then we stark picking them off from behind. They’ll be fighting a battle on two sides and eventually they’ll be trapped like the bugs they are.” “I knew you were a warrior with a strong mind for battle. I like this plan. We leave at once.” Betelgeuse looked to the wurms under his command and spoke in a guttural roaring voice that roused the wurms’ attention. He slithered into a tunnel and one by one, his army followed. The party watched them slither away and then turned back to the entrance, that they knew led to the surface. They looked at each other, nodded, and made their way back to the top, knowing that they left behind them, a massacre of wurms.

#dungeons and dragons #dnd #writing #am writing #fiction #fantasy

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