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[tteokdoroki]

OCTOBER 15TH. CRUELLA DE VIL

“i live for fur, i worship fur. after all, is there a woman in all this wretched world who doesn't?.”

♱ — shouto todoroki + fearplay.

♱ — synopsis; cruella de vil cruella de vil… if he doesn’t scare you, no evil thing will. a man of shouto todoroki’s calibre finds amusement in torturing the one thing he might love more than spots… his favourite little hybrid, his most prized possession…you.

♱ —length; 5.9K

♱ — warnings; please read for your own safety! mdni, smut 18+, heavy smut, characters aged up to 20s, mentions of smoking, cigarette burns, dry humping, shoe humping, stockholm syndrome, orgasm control, fear play, power play, clothed sex, blowjobs, oral sex ( m!receiving ), humiliation, edging, pictures, spit!kink, fem!reader, hybrid!reader, cruella de vil!todoroki. not beta read !

♱ — notes; beep boop !! happy sinister saturday my angels, this week we have one of my faves, cruella de vil 'n shou so i hope you enjoy!! i'm so excited to share this one with you <3 - m.list ₊ kinktober m.list ₊ taglist 𓆩♡𓆪

there is always work to be done when achieving perfectionism

discipline and obedience were two very important lessons shouto todoroki had learned early on in life.

though raised with a silver spoon perched between his perfect lips— the man, like any other who has walked this earth, has had his fair share of struggles too. enji todoroki was a man who believed in perfectionism…only achieved by hard work. discipline. obedience.

his father was unrelenting in making sure shouto knew what those words meant, raised up to take over the family business out of the three other siblings in his brood. he was neglected and unloved— but taught lessons on how to manage, make money, to speak when spoken to and listen when required to. shouto was malleable, easily trained back then, worked hard to please his father and all the companies to the family name until his light broke. until he’d had enough.

with uniquely split peppermint hair he’d managed to escape into the shadows with a sum of hush money as though not to spill the evil secrets of his upbringing— shouto had kept his lessons of obedience and discipline in mind. the money he would use as a start up, rationed into portions for rent, food and materials for the clothes he’d designed. someday hoping to make a man out of himself, and sell them to the world. 

todoroki wanted to be seen by people, for his designs to reach and touch the hearts of people across the country and maybe even the world— but to do so he had to be obedient, taking an entry level job at a department store that sold high fashion ( of course under a different name…the name cruella, shouto would start from the bottom and make his own way up— he wouldn’t be attached to the cruelty of his childhood ). names of dior, gucci and valentino… burberry, celine, christopher wang flashed in front of his mismatched eyes over tills on a daily basis— pearls and diamonds he’d never seen or heard of were favoured among customers in the store. he aspired to be like them, become a household name. 

to be recognised for his efforts in the world of fashion he would have to work hard, make his way up the ranks to afford furs and chiffons for the goes he had designed—stacked up on napkins and parchment paper, whatever he can find, discarded around his shitty little one bed studio. todoroki sells his first piece into a winter collection after months of cold calling and door knocking towards big owners of major stores.

success, comes with discipline, feigning obedience.

and shouto todoroki knows that he’s finally made it when the calls come flooding into his quiet, dingy london apartment looking for hints in whether or not he’s designed a spring collection.

of course he had, years in advance. 

and that brings us to today, where there’s corporate buildings across the world with his alias spelled out in big red and white letters across the front, filled with passionate designers and models and all sorts of staff. there are billboards at every corner plastered with teasers for todoroki’s upcoming fashion show, he’s been on the cover of all editions of vogue at one point or another— he’s built himself off of the ground. 

starting with obedience and discipline and mixed with a hint of dedication. 

perhaps todoroki should thank his father for not showing he and his siblings any compassion while they were growing up, for the fearful lessons he instilled in them— but then again, it was the dual haired man who’d made a righteous name out of the syllables of his last, who became a pioneer and spearhead to the fashion industry…not poor old enji. poor poor enji, there’s not a dime to his name these days, shouto and touya had made sure of that by selling their childhood trauma to the media. 

shouto made millions which he put towards his fashion company, touya has his band, fuyumi her family comfortably nestled up in some uptight gated community and natsuou wrote a book. they had all utilised what they’d been taught, to make money and to speak when spoken to ( promoted by press to speak on their upbringing of course ).

shouto todoroki is now loved by many, a peppermint haired boy estranged from his family putting himself and his designs in bright colours and elaborate patterns contrasting of his cool, and clipped self out there into the industry. and perhaps it was a cruel move on shouto’s part, but he didn’t care. dear old daddy would have to suffer for raising a son just like him. for acquiescence and regimen breeds rebels, and in excessive amounts, gives birth to bad…bad people. 

he is loved, he is bad, but he is free— his ego kissed and stroked by all of those around him, who don’t know the true him. and cruella, or shouto is sure if people knew how bad he truly was behind the smoke screen of his brilliance, then his career wouldn’t quite be the same as it were now. 

even though the peppermint haired designer loves his job and his work more than anything— a work life balance was also important to him too, to let the day’s stresses flood from his body was a priority. it was hard to keep the cruelty that danced around in his blood stream at bay while todoroki flittered throughout his offices and approved fabrics or threads…he needed an outlet, a reliever to tuck shouto todoroki away and let cruella come out to play. 

as soon as the designer finds himself within his expensive apartment complex— his Chelsey boots clicking against the white glossed marble flooring, he’s swarmed by eager staff that welcome him home. bright eyes full of admiration tracing his outline, puffy cream fur coat, as he cascades through the reception without a care in the world. “afta’noon mister todoroki— i-i mean cruella!” the doorman had greeted him with a bobbing Adam’s apple and polite smile. “a pleasure ta welcome ya  back!” 

with his diamond lined eyes narrowed, todoroki let the corners of his pretty lips twitch up into a soft, smug grin. “the pleasure is all mine, darling.” he’d replied pompously as he made a b-line for the elevator. there’s confidence in every movement he makes and a bristling frost on every surface he touches as he steps straight from the elevator into his own luxury penthouse apartment, greeted by staff that shiver in his presence when he enters his home. 

“mister todoroki,” staff bob their heads in respect, like they’re serving a king which they might as well be.  he holds power over everyone who gets a chance to witness him speak, have the honour of seeing him at work. a king in the world of fashion. 

todoroki’s boots continue to click and clack the further he explores the penthouse with high swooping ceilings and glass windows about the place—letting the cool night and all it’s stars pour in, illuminating the room accompanied by that of the moon. the white light shines in winter tones through paper scattered about the place, scrapped designs, those that’ll make the cut and some saved for future opportunities like the met gala look a celebrity has requested from him for next year. animal prints are thrown over the backs modern day architecture and chairs— the striped ones are often hidden. 

shouto much prefers the perfect simplicity of spots. 

they’re his favourite, round…infinite… never ending. the promise of forever is embodied in a perfect spot. 

there’s a reason why he has a framed portrait of his most beloved design— a real fur coat, made entirely of spots. 

is there anything more precious than something so simple and beautifully designed by nature? this is a question todoroki finds himself asking almost everyone night when he returns home from work, from being adored by people who do nothing but put pennies in his bank account— without even knowing the real him. but then he comes to stand in front of a special locked door, to which he holds the only key, he finds the answer, he smells it hanging in the air of the room as he unlocked it, pushing open the door and tasting the scent of you.

you are the most precious creation known to mankind. 

knocking the heels of his pointed boots together, todoroki watches as spotted black and white dalmation ears peek out from deeper in the room, barely visible over the edge of the comfortable leather couch installed into your playroom. they hang over your darling face in shame— you know what you’ve done, and a wicked chill seeps from his bones into the air around you once he notices your dainty tail no longer swishing behind you but instead tucked between your thighs… no doubt slicked up with an orgasm you know you weren’t allowed to have.

he knows, that you know, you’ve done the unthinkable— the punishable, topaz and granite eyes glossing over with a frightening level of disappointment, lips quirking up in satisfaction when you quiver like a leaf in the wind and a puppy whine sits cutely in the ridges of your throat. you’re not to touch what doesn’t belong to you, you know that. 

“there you are, pet.” cruella, shouto cocks his head to the side, speaking with his tone tilting into condescending as if he’s looking down on you. he is, clicking his heels together again but three times in order to command you to sit once you reach him. “have you been good?” a scarily sunshine smile sits heavy on the peppermint haired designer’s face, gaze flickering down to where your hips don’t fully touch the floor— no doubt avoiding contact with your swollen, dirty clit. sticky, probably, with a release you shouldn’t have had. “i don’t think you have.” 

he pulls a thick, long, thin red and white smoke stick from the left inside pocket of his tailored suit— crouching down to your height and uses the death stick to tilt your stare up from the black leather of his boots to his steeled pair of eyes. “pet?” over the tobacco scent hanging between you both, todoroki catches a whiff of your arousal, a touch of perfume smelling like your instinctual fear… he sees it bright in the pretty flecks in your eyes, dancing around like candles flickering in the wind. it’s a beautiful sight, seeing you scared. he loves it, he thinks—nudging your cheek a little more. “answer me.”

you flinch back at the harsher tone he uses, the one that makes your skin crawl and you immediately lower your head in an obedience that comes with much training. “‘m sorry,” you say in one hesitated breath, shutting away those darling eyes when shouto drags a thumb over your bottom lip after popping the smoke stick between his own. you lean into him, slightly, foolishly trusting the man with your life. “‘m sorry… i am. r-really, i am—“

you’ve always been meek, todoroki knows that. he’d picked you up from a rundown pound after a hit of inspiration— a whole collection he’d design based off of black and white spots. it had been hard sourcing an amount of Dalmatian hybrids that large— especially after his flimsy childhood friend deku darling and his clumsy pianist partner eijirou had rejected his proposal to take their lot off their hands. they didn’t like the idea of him using real fur, real spots to make a work of art.

out of the bunch he’d brought, shouto kept you. the little pup who cowered in the corner, kept out of sight and out of mind. so instead of turning you into a purse or pair of boots or the fluffy fur coat he’d dreamed of… todoroki kept you, because you were most afraid of him, like you’d soil yourself or cry if the devil popped up to say hello— you didn’t love him, or pretend to at first. you were as real as could be, you didn’t fake it just to be near shouto.

you were perfect.

“c’mon pet, sit with me.” standing to his full height, looming over you— shouto hooks two fingers under your collar, the one he had custom made for you in his colours of red and white, dragging you over to the couch placed in the centre of the room. the leather digs into your skin, your eyes bulging at the lack of aid which fizzles across your empty little brain. “did you miss me, today?” 

you sit back on your haunches when todoroki sinks into the couch, your teary eyes instantly and obediently shooting down to his half-hard cock as he man-spreads in his seat. fear breeds obedience, the more scared you are the easier it had been for shouto to train you to behave how he wanted, to be used how he wanted. 

nodding, you whine and shouto tuts in disapproval. 

“your words, darling.” 

“i d-did, i missed you s-shouto!” you perk up a little too quickly at the pet name, smaller-than-his hands resting on the swell of the designer’s thigh before your ears flatten back as if you know that you’ve made a mistake, leaning your baby fat cheek on his leg in hopes of making an apology. “i-i mean sir!” 

“what a good girl you are.”

shouto leers down at you, his eyes glinting with iniquity— the glistening gem colours darkening as if raging stormy clouds had blocked out the sun. he reaches out to pet you, and though you wince it’s easy for you to keen into his touch at the slightest hint of praise. “is that why you touched yourself while i was away?” he tilts his head, lips in a faux but cold pout as you simper out for him. “i can smell it on you, you filthy little mutt, soaked on your skin, slicked up on those precious fucking thighs.” suddenly, he grips your puppy dog ears, and the wag of your excited tail slows to a stop. “you disappoint me. you couldn’t even wait until i returned home. for you.” 

for you. 

only when your eyes brim with apologetic and fat tears, does shouto let go of your sore spotted ear— amused in how you sniffle, frozen in your place by fear. but there’s love in his eyes too, taking the form of heart shaped pupils as his gaze hones in on your messy, teary state. there should be hate blooming in your chest instead of love and yearning. this is the man that took you from your family; saw you as nothing more than fabric between stitches and buttons every time you whined and called out for the pups in your litter. 

tapping his food against the floor again, shouto commands your attention. “i’ve worked so hard to keep you safe, pet, you know that’s why i work so hard,” one hand guides yours to the bulge between your owner’s thighs while the other brushes over the pink curve of your bottom lip. “designing and designing…” he pulls you up close, hunching over you at the same so that you’re a breath’s width apart. 

your breathing is ragged, chest heaving in anticipation as shouto parts his lips— letting a clear, heavy wad of drool drip from his mouth onto the palette of your eager puppy tongue. 

“do you know what i made?” 

the question barely registers in your mind as you swallow a haziness of lust taking over— clouding your eyes and a hunger to please clawing it’s way up your throat. “nuh-uh,” you say breathlessly, tilting your head up for more, earning another glob of spit on your tongue. your tiny little hand starts to move on it’s own accord, pawing back and forth, back and forth against your owner’s dress pants. your tail picks up again, adorably swishing from side to side feeling shouto throb beneath your talented little fingertips— blood pulsing through his clothed girth. 

“do i have to tell you again, pet? use your words.” todoroki relents, taking your lip between his teeth— taunting you, nearly kissing you but not quite because he knows how much you need it. he knows that if he keeps you on the blurred line between pain and pleasure, fear and felicity…you’ll behave accordingly, become easily malleable into the perfect pet. 

“i-i’m not sure, sir.” 

“spots.”

it’s so adorable how you go rigid, turning to stone though your heart beats in your chest and your hand rubs harder, greedier at the hard on growing beneath shouto’s expensive clothes. your eyes continue to sparkle too, with desperation to take his cock deep into your salivating mouth, pink tongue rolling out like a puppy in the wind. he sees the way your thighs stick together, grazing one another as your hole slicks itself up— ready for the taking. if he could bend you over, pull your ass cheeks apart, todoroki has no doubt that your little wagging tail would be covered in strings of your potent arousal, oozing in thick waves from your spasming puppy cunt.

he knows this for a fact, not only because hybrids like yourself are wetter, messier to aid the breeding process, but because you love being scared just as much as you so pathetically adore todoroki. you enjoy the flicker of your brain between fight or flight, how he makes your blood run cold or threatens your life as if it hangs in the balance. 

mistakenly, you love shouto todoroki— and you think he might feel the same about you. you think if you behave and perform tricks, if you’re obedient just like he had taught you to be..that he might keep you safe. cherish you. 

maybe that’s all true, maybe cruella isn’t so cruel. maybe he finds it in his ice laden heart to care for you just a bit… and not just because you’re a cute little pup trained to suck his pretty dick.

“i’m thinking of making another fur coat,” a wicked chuckle rumbles the designers throat like thunder in a storm, only interrupted by his hips that shoot up to grind into your hesitating hand— the one that feels out the lengthy shape of him as his precum smears against the fabric of his underwear in opaque white. he drags a finger over your face, looks with hooded eyes as your lashes brush against your cheek and you drag your tongue over his clothed stiff cock. shouto adores your tremble…you think that he might hit you. 

you’d deserve it, and he had before—useless little mutts like you needed to know their place if you wanted to stick around. “that’s…that’s nice sir,” you stutter, holding back on your brainless babbles, your hips gyrating into the floor beneath you, unbred and leaky hole clenching around nothing. 

a reflex out of fear.

shouto hums, tilting your chin up to face him when your mouth hits his seedy tip through the fabric of his clothes— the heat from your sloppy tongue penetrating through the rough linen layers. “so, pet, if you want to make sure i don’t turn you into something even prettier… into something nice for me to wear,” todoroki sneers huskily, tinged with evil while he uses his grip on you to shove your face into his lap roughly. “then i suggest, you open up that sweet mouth of yours and let me feed you my cock, hm?” that’s how shouto todoroki gets you hooked, he has you running on the fumes of survival instincts— trained to love him, do absolutely anything for him despite how cruelly he may treat you.

though your crystalline puppy dog eyes are screwed shut and your spotted ears, sweaty and sore and pinned to your skull— you manage to pick up on the clink of todoroki’s gucci belt, making you growl low and impatiently. the desire to taste his cum, make him happy, shoots through you like a sedative injected into your veins, targeting your red blood cells and wrapping around them to spread obedience through you. yet again, against your will, you’re coaxed into the dark, cruel enigma that is shouto todoroki, letting him set fire to your body and take over any logical thought in your mind.

cunt dripping, juices sweet as ripened fruit— you peel back the layers of shouto’s garments ( though his pants sit at his slender hips, not fully pulled down )…a mean chuckle resounding in the sex tainted air in the room as you reveal his cock to your innocent stare, letting him lean back into the leather couch. he’s longer than he is thick, mushroomed tip a little purple with blue-tinted veins running up and down the length of him, a shade rivalling his own hungry eyes as he observes your next moves. the entirety of him pulses in your soft grip, the scent of his arousal bleeding from his cockhead sending your dalmation puppy instincts into overdrive. todoroki hisses, painfully hard, as you take him gently between your fingers— your thumb moving with uncertainty to rub his pre into his tip sweetly. 

you’re almost ashamed of how much your mouth starts to water, the strings of your own saliva connecting the roof of your mouth to your tongue that writhes in place— aching to taste him, pleasure him with all that you can. the prominent adam’s apple of shouto’s throat bobs, watching with lustful mismatched eyes as you inch forward like a predator hunting it’s prey— reverting back to animalistic instincts while your pupils dilate. his face scrunches, a haughty moan vibrating in his chest when you grip him fully so you can guide him to your mouth—little hand dwarfed by the size of his cock, soft palm grazing the forked vein on the underside of his shaft as it throbs. “oh pet,” todoroki‘s words are drawled, lips between his teeth. “come on, be good.” you do your best to appease him, dragging his bulbous and creamy tip along the seam of your lips, kitten licking him to test the patience of your owner. 

you’re frightful that you might have fucked up when you hear his hands slap down against the leather sofa before shouto drags you by your Dalmatian ears off of his girth, his own breathing irratic and irregular— cruel and cold eyes now blazing with hunger. you look up nervously, a whimper brewing on your wet, pre cum glossed lips to find the smoke stick now between his lips ( he’d lost it when kissing you. ). 

“help me light it while you get me hard.” he grunts quietly, voice dipping an octave, dripping with a threat. as if he’s promising you danger if you danger if you don’t comply. he fumbles with his loose left pocket for a light after shoving the smoke stick past your wet, arousal soaked lips— maintaining eye contact as he flicks the lighter in front of the rolled tobacco. even though you can tell that todoroki is heavily aroused; you have no choice but to do what he says. he dominates your life, decides whether or not you stay as a fuckable pet or get turned into the next best fashion item. he has power over you even when his dick pulses in your hand and you squeeze him softly, letting his precum guide your movements as you start to palm him to a slow and steady rhythm. once the smoke stick in your mouth is lit, the flame threatening you, shouto takes it from you and places it between his own lips— puffing a ring of smoke into your face. 

your wet puppy nose twitches unhappily, but you know that protesting will only end badly for you. that doesn’t seem to calm the racing heartbeat in your puppypussy, however, drooling at the idea of being scolded by your owner. 

shouto leans back, tousled half and half hair thrown over the back of the couch— his flesh sticking to it, only caused by the cold sweat your temperate mouth has him in. both of you moan when you finally take him into your mouth, sinking down on him until your nose is pressed against milky flesh just like you’d practiced before. yours is desperate and needy, shouto’s raspy— proud at how well his little pup treats him.

of course, todoroki had to train you to suck cock too, breaching the innocence of your mouth despite your whimpered out protests at the time. he’d soon fucked it into your throat that if you wanted to live, you wouldn’t have a choice in the matter.

“y-you, oh fuck—“ shouto lets out a throaty hybrid noise, a lewd mix between an amused laugh and a deep moan as you flex your saliva laden tongue against the underside of his dick— taking a puff of his tobacco before looking down at you with so much love you might even think it was real. “you’re so pretty pet, so… so pretty.” he knows he’s done a good thing by keeping you, cruella; shouto todoroki brought to his knees by the sinful heat of your hell searing mouth, making him repent for everything he’s ever done wrong. “were you scared, pretty? t-that why you’re taking my cock so fucking well?”

all you can do it nod, swallowing the designer down eagerly in response— a resounding hum sending chills running down his spine as teeth and tongue vibrate around his shaft. you can’t help but let your awe-filled eyes flutter shut at the heaviness of todoroki on your tongue, drooling and dribbling above the place— soaking through his clothes that probably cost more than an entire litter of Dalmatian hybrids such as yourself. he oozes copious sums of precum, thick enough to glue your mouth shut ( like peanut butter for puppies ), filling you up and luring you into going after more. 

pleasing him more.

your cheeks swell while you paw desperately at shouto’s ruined lap— breathing deep through your nose before you feel the weight of his hand right between your sensitive puppy dog ears. he tugs at the twitching limbs, twisting them while pushing you down on his aching cock. your throat contracts, cheeks hollowing until you’ve swallowed him down to the base and you’re practically gagging on the length of him, tip brushing against your uvula lips k the way down. poor puppy, you flinch at the slight twinge of pain from where shouto begins to pound your mouth roughly, balls slapping against your chin, slurping mixed with his yowls of delight filling combining with the sweat and sex loaded air. when you flinch, your teeth graze at the sensitive veins wrapping around shouto— making him choke just like you, on a puff of his smoke stick. 

“fucking mutt, oh—shit!” he snarls, yanking you off of his tender and red, smarting cock— not caring of the way he holds you hurts you. “watch your fucking mouth, pretty. or i really will turn you into my next fur coat, darling.” the warning is firm, rattling you to your core, your mouth even more so wet and salacious at the fear shouto strikes in you. you’re back on him before you know it, his hips jutting up into the molten heat of your mouth, tip hitting the inside of your cheek, making him shudder every time. todoroki would be lying if he wasn’t obsessed with the way your floppy Dalmatian ears bounded the more he rolled his hips into your mouth, fucking your face. he was even more delighted by your sharp canines just brushing over his shaft, but he wouldn’t admit that. 

loosening his tie, he throws his head back in a drawn out gripe, his moans raising a pitch when you grip his swollen balls, full of cum and roll them between dainty fingers. he pulls his smoke stick from his lips, tongue darting out to wet them as he taps the ash against your pretty face. “i think i’ll get you off pet, since you missed me so much. since i feel so bad for scaring you.” todoroki coos with faux sympathy, head lolling down to get a good look at your tear stained cheeks and your clumped together lashes. his dual toned hair now askew. 

stilling in surprise, you yelp in shock as shouto shoves a boot between your arousal painted thighs— pressing the toe against your aching, untouched clit that's barely covered by the flimsy baby-doll shorts you usually wear. they’re coated in your sweet honey, and your owner’s mouth hangs open; mocking the darling mewl that would leave your own if you weren’t being stuffed full of cock. 

the boot nestles perfectly at your cunt, spreading your swollen pussy  lips apart and expostulating it’s in your sweltering heat. “you’re this wet? from hardly being touched?” he mocks you, pulling his foot back to stimulate your core. “oh darling, you’re soaked, pathetically so.” it is; it’s embarrassing how turned on you are from being threatened, fucked like your mouth is a flesh light. how you want him to love you even though you could be killed at any second. “grind that pretty pussy down on me pup, suck me off good and maybe I’ll let you cum.” 

doing as you’re told, you work yourself down on shouto— tail thumping against the floor while you circle your hips over the cool leather of his shoe, the material pulling back the hood on your clit and sending shockwaves of dopamine across your brain. puppy dog eyes cross, with tongue running it’s owl circles along todoroki’s shaft. the fact that he looms over you, has all the power in the world to end you servers as your own personal adrenaline but you don’t dare deny that getting him off, gets you off too. 

despite trying not to fall apart at every lick and suck you give him, sweat shines on todoroki’s pale winter skin— just as cold as he is, but maybe his evil heart melts a little, maybe having fur is less valuable to him when you weakly pull off him, and your precum-spit glossed lips encapsulate his seedy cockhead as if to makeout with it, running the tip of your tongue through his sensitive slit. “that’s it pet, swallow me down. earn that right to cum.” simpering, shouto grabs the sides of your head— holding you in place as his ploughs his hips and dick shallowly into o-shape of your mouth, battering about inside of it. 

the cigarette he smokes just barely burns marks into the black spots or your ears, making you whimper out despite desperately thrusting down against your owner’s foot, practically riding it while a tight knot forms in your lower stomach and your puppycunt gushes about the place. 

todoroki lets you go once he’s exerted himself, a mop of sweaty red and white locks dangling over the back of the couch. the world wouldn’t believe it it they saw their beloved cruella now; twitching and heaving as he stares his Dalmatian puppy down, marvelling in the way you spit down onto his bulbous and dripping cockhead before joining you in doing the same. the frothy white and bubbly mix crudely runs down his shaft, and you’re quick to lick it up from the balls to his slit again. 

“oh fuck, pretty darling. you’re trying to ruin me, aren’t you?” 

you don’t answer, jerking the man off as you look up at him so debauched; yet so innocent. he can see you fight the cross in your eyes as he wiggles his boot against your hardened pleasure nub, a cream staining the leather.

“w-words pet. tell me or you really won’t get to cum.” 

you remember your desperation to be adored by shouto, as well as the release that sneaks up on you. so you find your words though your voice is hoarse from your throat being ravaged and decorated with precum. “i want you always sir,” you plead. “for you to always feel g-good with me!” 

shouto grins, menacing, borderline crazy— it makes your pussy lips quiver while he angles his foot up, right as you drag your fluttering entrance over the toe. “you know just what to say to get me close, darling,” he says, grabbing hold of his own dick to tap it against your slobbery puppy tongue, feeding it to you again and thriving in the way that you tilt your head, angling it so he can fuck your cheek makinf your skin bulge. “gonna cum…pet, ‘n you’re gonna be obedient. hold it, until i’m finished with you…or you’re dead. meat.” 

he punctuates his words with two rough thrusts, flinching with ecstasy, voice trembling. todoroki doesn’t let up in teasing your pulsating pussy, shaking his foot as you bump and grind against the shoe to your hearts content— fighting not to lose your orgasm while simultaneously dragging shouto to the edge of his own. it’s obscene the way both your mouth and cunt squelch, your owner leaking ungodly amounts of arousal into your mouth and down your chin ( though you’re no better, hot wet pussy ruining his shoes for good ).

todoroki  loses his pace, smoke stick just missing his lips from how irregular and languid his thrusts are and before you know it, he’s taken a hold of your sore dog ears once more— his high takint him by surprise. “holy fuck, that’s it pet, be a good fucking dog, take it all. my seed.” the world around shouto todoroki falls away into mismatched pieces, warm and viscous cum flooding your mouth in waves; and you can’t even stop, sloppily  worshipping his cock and all they it offers you as if todoroki is your god.

he might as well be, the way controls whether you live or die; even as you stare up at hearts dazzling your eyes. you need him to love you, to be proud of you. “so g-good, god pet. you’re wonderful,” the cruelty of cruella praises you, still filling you the brim with seed that sits salty on your tongue. todoroki takes a drag of his cigarette, feeling loopy, happier than ever with his decision to keep you. 

lewdly, he drags shapes onto your swollen clit too, rocking his shoe against you— amused at how you struggle to keep your release at bay. tapping out the ash of his tobacco one last time, todoroki puts it out by singing the end of his cigarette into your spotted puppy ear again— smiling at your low, whistle tone whine.

“cum.” he commands, smearing his ruined cock against your lips. “or else, you won’t get another chance.” 

fear breeds obedience and as if on queue, your body follows the order— a clear stream of arousal splashing out hard against the floor from your raw, sticky cunt. the world is a blinding white, black spots eating at the corner of your vision. 

by the time you come to, world famous designer cruella— shouto todoroki has returned to petting your hair with gentle care that doesn’t make you fear him any less but makes you love him a little more. he chuckles, red and white hair shaking with it as you sleepy nuzzle his thigh— a mess of cum and tears and spit. 

so shouto snaps a picture of you, a perfect muse for his next design. 

his obedient and well disciplined, precious dalmation puppy hybrid. 

more precious than any spot in the world.

[goddess-in-heaven-and-hell]

Sharing Is Caring - Gwynriel One Shot

Thread: What happenes when a bunch of warriors get bored on a mission? With a game of Truth or Dare, both Gwyn and Azriel reveal more than they wanted. But truth is the best base for a strong relationship.

Warnings: cursewords

Word count: 4.7k

 Wet. Cold. Miserable.

Azriel had pondered over the right wording for a while. Two hours, to be exact, while he and his group of spies and warriors fought their way through the colorful wilderness of Autumn court. But when he nearly slipped off a stone for the third time, he finalized the conclusion that would end up written on his report to Rhys. Wet. Cold. Miserable. And no progress to show for.

Three days and two nights they had spent on the border of Autumn and Winter court now and the spirits were getting low, despite the beautiful scenery of the woods.

“Do you think we’ll be able to find a place to stay soon?”, Emeries breathy voice travelled through the otherwise quiet evening. Gwyn, who was flanking her, just turned her pink-cheeked face towards Azriel, the hope for rest visible in her eyes as well. To give them both credit though, they haven’t been complaining much at all, unlike Bron and Orion. Both more seasoned spies trained by Azriel himself have been puffing and moaning constantly, much to his dismay.

A gust of wind saved him from having to give his partners a non-certain answer. Cassian landed through a broad space between the lines of trees, a grin plastered on his face that promised mischief. “Good news and bad new folks, what do you want first.”

Nesta let out a groan. “If you say you have found a clearing, but we need to cross a river and a mountain to get there, then I’d rather try to be a fish for the night.”

“No need for that.”, Cassian spoke with his usual loud and clear voice, but exhaustion was visible in the hollow and darkness around his eyes, “I reckon we only need ten minutes to get to the clearing, give or take. What is less than ideal is the fire we will have to build, because the space is freezing like the worst Illyrian winter.” Cass shot Azriel a look, who just nodded his head in confirmation.

They had avoided the fire for the last two nights, too fearful of being spied by autumn soldiers. With another day between them and the court though, Azriel was confident in their safety.

The promise of rest and heat spurred the group on to new and never known levels of athleticism. In no time they reached the clearing, organized and ate some of their food supplies, and built their tents. As the first flick of a flame came to life in the middle of the circle of tents, the team spirit did as well. At least for some of them.

Bron was opening his flask of whiskey, already sitting comfortably on the ground, when he declared: “I have a brilliant idea.”

Azriel had to stop himself from making a face.

“Let’s all play truth or dare!”

And now he had to stop himself from groaning.

“Brilliant indeed, I like the way you think, goldielocks.” That was Cassian, of course, because who else would support an idea like that except someone who was an actual child at heart.

Nesta and Emerie shared a glance, shrugged, and then too took their seats outside the tents around the fire, apparently ready to play.

Azriel was just about to open his mouth to excuse himself swiftly from the situation, when in his periphery, a flash of red and blue made him think twice. As Gwyn sat down in the entrance of her tent, next to Azriel, he was reminded that anyplace that had Gwyn couldn’t be so bad.

Up until he caught her eyes. And saw the plea in them. And the uncertainty. And then he physically couldn’t leave her anymore. Removing his hand from the ground where he wanted to push himself off, he placed it back on his lap instead. Gwyn flashed him a quick and small smile in return, knowing exactly what he had been about to do. Of course she did. After the year they spent training with each other nearly every night, she probably knew him better than most people in his life.

And he could sense why she was nervous. The two reasons with equally as many braincells shared between them smirked while sharing their flask of whiskey, completely oblivious to the anxious energy radiation off Gwyn in waves. If Azriel were confident in her affection to him, he might have hugged her to his side, or at least shielded her with part of his body. But he wasn’t. And he also wasn’t about to embarrass her in front of two strangers.

“Okay, let’s get this party started.”, if Azriel heard correctly, Bron already slurred his letters a little, “Cassian first: truth or dare, general?”

Cassian let an easy smirk bloom all over his face before he said, “Truth.”

Orion looked like it was the Winter Solstice and his birthday all in one. “When was the first time you crapped your pants in battle?” How he could ask a question like that with a nearly fanatic gleam in his eyes was beyond Azriel. He still glanced at his brother, waiting for his reply.

“What makes you assume I’ve ever crapped my pants? More than once, too?”, Cassian bristled. Nesta’s answering cough sounded suspiciously close to ‘Bryaxis’.

The warriors around the campfire burst out into laughter, drowning out Cassian’s colorful protests.

Even Azriel couldn’t help his smile. He remembered at least three occasions in their younger years when Cassian had swiftly excused himself before a battle, red creeping into his cheeks and a walk that told him everything he needed to know about the matter. But he was no snitch, especially not in front of Cassian’s mate.

While the group was busy joking and drinking, Azriel felt the presence of Gwyn lean into him a little more than normal, her arms pressed into his side. “I bet he’s hiding something, and I bet you know what it is.”, her whispered voice did things to him that he didn’t want to admit either. So he just leaned into her as well, bowing his head slightly to better reach her ear. “I’m known to know a lot of things.”

When he met her eye, she was already glowering at him, eyes turned into slits. “I know you’re known to know things, Mr. Vague. And I want to be let in on said knowledge.”

Azriel didn’t even feel the lazy grin coming over his face. It was a normal occurrence when talking to Gwyn at this point. “Do you think I give away priceless information just like that? Offer something in return, then I might think about it.”

If it was possible, Gwyn’s eyes narrowed even more, before she turned pensive. After a heartbeat or two, she offered: “I had my first kiss when I was 17.”

“I already know that.”, he shot back immediately. The little emotion called jealousy that snuck up on him at the thought of Gwyn kissing someone was nothing new to him either.

“Once, I burned my right bum-cheek trying to extinguish a fire.”, she tried again.

Azriel let out a near-silent laughter, even though his heart squeezed together in sympathy for the burn. “How did that happen?”

Gwyn sat up straight, eyes going back to the flickering fire. “I panicked, didn’t have a blanket or water around. So I just sat on the little flame. It worked, too.”, she finished, shrugging and a little pink-cheeked.

Azriel was at the point of biting his lip to keep himself from laughing out loud and attract everyone’s attention. “That sounds… like an interesting tactic.”

“Mh-hm.”, Gwyn smiled at him, the color of the bonfire lighting up her face beautifully, “so, I traded you a secret. Your turn, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel lifted both his eyebrows. “I said I’d think about giving you my secret once you told me one of yours. And I’m thinking … no.”

Just as Gwyn’s jaw fell open at his audacity, Orion’s annoyance of a voice travelled over to their spot. “What are you two snickering about? Mind sharing with the class?”

He had this expression on his face that promised trouble. And that seemed to wait for a punch.

“Nothing. Get on with your game.”, Azriel shot back immediately, saving Gwyn from having to answer him. He probably put a little too much bite into his voice, because Orion’s face paled just a fraction.

“Gladly”, he recovered quickly, “Shadowsinger: truth or dare?”

“Dare.”, because no way in hell would he share the answer to deep questions with just anyone. He made that mistake once and learned his lesson from it.

Orion took the time to think for a moment. During that time, his eyes flickered quickly to Gwyn - not too long to be noticed by most of the fae surrounding the fire, but long enough for Azriel to feel annoyed. And scared of what will come out of his mouth.

“I dare you to kiss the person you love most in this circle of people.”, Orion proudly announced.

And just like that, Azriel’s heart took a deep plunge in his chest. He knew who the person he loved most was. Without a shadow of a doubt. Her perfect image rarely left his mind. But he also knew that she more than likely would not want him to kiss her just like that. In front of people, nonetheless.

He felt Gwyn’s whole body go ramrod-straight by his side as he took his time in getting off the floor, wiping his trousers clean, and walking over to where Nesta sat. This was the save option.

Nesta’s eyes jumped from Gwyn to him, and then she nodded just slightly to give her okay in this. He knew she’d get it. He also knew she had at least a little understanding of the scope of Azriel’s feelings towards Gwyn, not that she ever spoke to him about it.

So, when Azriel lowered himself on his knee and pressed a tiny, gently kiss to her cheek, she didn’t protest, but smiled a sad smile.

Neither sad nor gentle were any of the emotions Cassian let out the minute Azriel’s lips met his mate.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, AZ?”, he basically shouted at him, arms and wings flared out wide. He genuinely looked angry. Azriel had to admit that the reaction confused him. Nesta and Cassian were long done with their frenzy, and his brother never objected when he kissed Nesta to greet her. “WHY THE ACTUAL FUCK would you pick Nesta over ME?”

And there it was. The group erupted into laughter again while Azriel shook his head in defeat. His brother will be the death of him someday. “So, are you saying I should have kissed you instead?”

Cassian looked at him wildly, his fingers on either hand coming together to form a pinch in front of his body, “EXACTLY!”

“Next time, brother.”, Azriel mumbled before sitting back down next to Gwyn. She did not acknowledge him, didn’t move a muscle as his arm brushed against her when he lowered himself. She was eerily still, and Azriel started to wonder why that might be.

The game continued for a while longer, but Azriel barely listened to what was being said. Hell, he barely noticed anything beside the girl sitting next to him and his racing thoughts. And the only explanations he could come up with for her strange reaction was: a) that she was growing more and more anxious at the turn the game took, or b) that she had expect him to kiss her.

An eruption of butterflies at the mere thought of kissing her distracted Azriel for a moment. It wasn’t as if the idea of doing so was something outlandish. They had… moments during the past year, where he was sure that Gwyn would jump over her shadow and press her lips to his. But it never happened, and Azriel was too frightened to make the first move. Too frightened to pressure her, too frightened of rejection.

The stars were already shining bright on the small group when they started growing more and more reckless and drunk with each passing round of the game. It was Cassian’s turn again when he proudly declared: “Dare!”

And Emerie had the perfect dare ready for the take, “I dare you to catch us a bat!”

The girls around the fire snickered while Cassian fake-glowered at Emerie for a second. “Easy.” Then he got up to make a show of stretching his arms and wings, apparently ready for the challenge.

Azriel would have smiled if Gwyn hadn’t scooched away from him in the past minutes. Now he was sure, more than ever, that her behavior didn’t have anything to do with the game, but everything with him. And he was determined to make it up to her.

While Cassian was busy with his task and the rest of the group shouted ‘helpful’ tips and watched in amusement, Azriel reached out his hand to find Gwyn’s. She had both her hands placed behind her body, supporting her weight as she leaned back to watch the others. The slightest jerk of her shoulders was the only give-away when his scarred skin touched her flawless, albeit cold fingers.

But she didn’t pull away. So Azriel let his fingers trace over hers, just the slightest, feather-light touch. Gwyn turned her head to him, her face carefully blank. He taught her how to perfect that kind of face that didn’t show any emotion. But teaching her meant he also knew her tells. The tenderness in her eyes that she just couldn’t hide yet.

Right when he was about to say something, a shockingly loud clash made them both jump.

Behind Gwyn, on top of her now crumpled tent, laid Cassian. His arm was outstretched in victory, cradling a small, black creature.

“By the mother!”, Azriel groaned out, stepping away from the mess that was Cassian’s limbs, branches of a tree, and Gwyn’s tent.

“I did it, losers!”, Cassian proclaimed loudly, and way too proudly for the situation he was in now.

“Cassian! Why did you have to land on my tent of all places?”, Gwyn asked, both her hands on her head in distress. The sticks holding the fabric up had bent completely out of shape, others were even broken. Azriel’s heart began to race even harder at the thought of Cassian landing on Gwyn.

Only now Cassian seemed to understand what had happened. He hastily got up, untangled himself and then looked sheepishly in Gwyn’s direction. “I’m sorry Gwynie, I didn’t mean to land on the tent. I kind of thought I would get my wings out in time and not…”

“…fall like a rock.”, Azriel commented. Cassian was too drunk to argue with, and judging from the amused slash dazed expression of everyone else, except Emerie, the others wouldn’t be of much help either. “Okay, I guess that concludes the evening. To bed everyone.”

The group of fae grumbled, but complied nonetheless by going into their respective tents. Orion just fell backwards, his legs still sticking out the entrance. Azriel could have sworn he already started snoring while leaning back.

Emerie was the only one, despite a slightly frustrated Gwyn, to notice the problem at hand. “You can squeeze into my tent, Gwyn. It’s hardly warm enough to sleep outside all night, even if the fire keeps burning.”

Gwyn nodded, then glanced to Emeries tiny single tent in resignation. “I hope you don’t mind me sleeping on top of you.”

Emerie snorted, then winked playfully at Gwyn. But she didn’t find it in her to flash her a smile in return. The past days had been hard, both on the mind and on the body. Sleeping in an overcrowded tent was less than ideal, and both Emerie and Gwyn were aware of that.

“Gwyn, if you’d feel comfortable with it, and I definitely would, we can share a tent.”, Azriel finally found the words that were so desperate to come out the second he saw Cassian land and noticed Gwyn’s predicament. With a quiet voice, he added, “My tent is inherently bigger since it has to fit the wings.”

Gwyn looked pensive for a while, just staring at the mess Cassian made, her jaws tightening as she ground them together. After what felt like ten minutes to Azriel, she looked directly at him. “Okay, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel nodded, too stunned and frankly, too out of his depth, to formulate a sentence. Emerie acknowledged Gwyn’s decision too by taking her hand and squeezing lightly. It didn’t go unnoticed by Azriel that it was both a ‘good night’, and also a silent encouragement. Because Gwyn would spend her first night with a male since the night her temple was taken, and part of her soul with it.

So when, only a few minutes and slightly awkward maneuvering later, Gwyn was cocooned safely and warmly by Azriel’s side, he didn’t really know whether to curse or praise the Mother for his luck.

“Are you sure that your wing is okay?”, Gwyn whispered for the fourth time within one minute, her nerves visible through her fidgeting. Azriel didn’t see another option than to just lie down on his side, one wing trapped beneath his and her body. For the moment, it wasn’t too uncomfortable, but he knew it will be almost excruciating in an hour or so.

“Gwyn, calm down. My wing is fine. Or it will be, once you stop moving so much.”, he whispered back, pinning her down with his stare so she would believe him and settle down. The tent was just big enough for Azriel to lie down on his stomach with his wings drawn close to his body. With Gwyn in the mix, both had to lie on their sides, their knees touching.

Was it the most comfortable? No. Would he still prefer this to his bed in the House of Wind? Or anywhere, really? Absolutely.

Gwyn seemed comfortable enough, mentality wise. Her breathing was even, face relaxed from what he could tell in the dark. And that she trusted him like that, preferred his tent over Emerie’s, made his chest swell just a little. And wish for another night on this stupid mission.

“I will kill Cassian come tomorrow. Or I’ll force him to build me a new tent from scratch.”, Gwyn grumbled. She was so close that Azriel could feel her breath caress his skin. He’d give anything for it to be her fingers.

“You know how he gets when he’s drunk.”, Azriel tired to argue for his brother, but even to him his voice sounded off. Cassian was just a reckless, overgrown bat tonight and they both knew it.

Gwyn let out a snort through her nose. “Yes. That’s the next thing I would have a word to him about. Drinking himself stupid while on a mission.” She had a point, even though tomorrow there was just the way home to tick off the list.

“I’ll hold him down, you do the punching, priestess.”, the Shadowsinger suggested, the smile audible in his voice.

“Deal.”, Gwyn let out a sign that was less amused than Azriel would have liked, “And now I have to make you suffer through the night with one wing suffocated by me, and the other cramped to the ceiling.”

She paused, lifting her head slightly from the ground. “Hey, how about you spread the other wing over me. Then at least one will function properly for the flight home tomorrow.”

Azriel barely held back a groan. He didn’t even think about having to actually use his wings to get them back home in the morning. But her suggestion overshadowed every negative thought in just a second. Because she had really just asked him to basically cocoon her in his wings. His Illyrian blood sang beneath his skin, and he grew uncomfortably hot from just thinking about how Gwyn would emerge from the tent the next morning, smelling like him.

Clearing his throat, Azriel mumbled a ‘good idea’ and then spread out his wing over Gwyn’s form. He wasn’t able to extend it completely, but the stretch felt fucking amazing nonetheless.

It must have shown on his face. “Better?”, Gwyn asked with a shy smile. She probably still though her presence in here was an inconvenience. And that needed to change.

So before he could think about what he was doing, Azriel grabbed Gwyn’s hand and interlaced his fingers with hers, resting them right between their chests. She was still too cold for his liking, but a minute or two in his wings would do the trick. “Gwyn, I can promise you that there is no-one I’d rather have in this tent with me than you. That’s the honest truth.”

Gwyn’s eyes flicked from their intertwined hands back to his face, a small smile on her lips. “You have been avoiding the truth all night. Why not now?”

“Just because I don’t share my secrets with my companions doesn’t mean I can’t share them with someone I trust.”, he explained.

Gwyn furrowed her brows just a fraction. “So you trust me, then?”

“I do.”, was the immediate answer she got in return. He had entrusted her with information, his feelings and dreams for the past months now. Well, all his feelings except one.

Gwyn just stared at him for a while, deep in thought, while her thumb drew little circles against Azriel’s hand. From time to time, she sucked in a breath, as if she was about to say something but thought better of it. They lay like that for a while, just the noises of the woods surrounding them, while Gwyn took her time to seemingly muster up courage for something.

Then, she finally spoke. “I believe you owe me another truth, Shadowsinger.”

“Another truth?”, was his incredibly smart reply, voice going a bit raspy.

Gwyn’s features were set and determined as she stared him down, nodding courtly as if bracing herself for a fight. As if he would ever fight with her. “Another truth. You know, for the secret I told you earlier.”

“But me not giving you a secret in return was fair. I never promised you.”, he said softly. He didn’t really know why he protected himself so much still, especially around her. Gwyn did deserve a bit more honesty and forthcomingness from him, he just wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to stop once the secrets spill out of him.

Gwyn’s eyes were cast down now, not wanting to give away any emotion to him. But she couldn’t hide the strain on her voice when she replied, “I guess so. Sorry for not letting it go.”

Then she flashed him a very quick and very fake smile, their hands still interlocked in front of their bodies. “Good night then, Shadowsinger. Thanks again for sharing your tent.”

Sharing his tent was one thing, but sharing his love for her was another. Still, he felt like a complete asshole for disappointing her like that. Holding her hand and having her engulfed in his wings wasn’t enough, even though Azriel had hoped so. True love seemed to take sacrifices, courage and determination. All of which bubbled up in the Shadowsinger now.

“Let’s play another round of truth or dare then. Ask me.”, his voice was barely a whisper as it travelled through the night and to Gwyn’s ear. Her eyes shot open immediately, but her gaze was still weary. It squeezed Azriel’s insides knowing that she was so unsure about him, and that that reaction was entirely his fault.

“Az, truth or dare?”, she whispered back after a while.

“Truth.”

A heartbeat passed, then another. Gwyn pressed her eyes close again.

Azriel desperately wanted to help her with this, so he leaned up slightly and then bowed his head down to their hands. He placed a soft kiss on her knuckles, hoping it would give her the courage to speak her mind.

And it seemed to work. “Why did you kiss Nesta for your dare, and not me?” He wasn’t sure if it was truly tears in her eyes he saw, or if the lighting just played tricks on him.

Azriel took a deep breath. “Nesta felt like the safe option. I’ve kissed her a hundred times before, so I knew she wouldn’t object.”

Gwyn nodded her understanding. “Okay.”

She seemed to think that was all the explanation he’d give her.

“I wanted to kiss you, Gwyn, believe me. You were the first and only person that came to my mind when Orion dared me. You are the only person on my mind, period. Not just for a stupid dare.”, his voice got stronger and stronger while sharing this secret, as if his heart was now eager for Gwyn to know the whole story. “I would have loved nothing more than just to turn my head and kiss you. But I wasn’t sure if you wanted it. If you wanted to experience it while being watched by others.”

“You weren’t sure?”, Gwyn interrupted him, her brows furrowed, “You mean the great Shadowsinger, spymaster of the Night court, didn’t get all the hints I’ve given him these past months? You mean to tell me you haven’t noticed the way I look at you, that I just can’t hide my admiration whenever I see you? That I have to drag my eyes off you so I can focus even a little bit on training and learning? I needed a little courage from you, just a little initiative, and I would have been yours in a heartbeat.”

Azriel was too shellshocked to speak, the silence stretching between them like a living being. Having missed all of these previous chances nearly suffocated the Shadowsinger.

“But I understand, it’s okay. You didn’t want to cause a scene.”, she finished, her chest heaving from the heavy confession. “I just wish you’d have chosen me despite the risks, tonight or whenever.”

Speaking of risks…

“I love you.”, Azriel didn’t even feel himself formulating the words, a little surprised when they forced their way out of his mouth, “And I know I have a shit way of showing you. And I know it might be too late now, that you deserved better. But if you allow me, I’d chose you every day from this day forward.”

Gwyn’s lips parted, but no sound came. Then she sucked in a breath, and the biggest smile he’d ever seen on her face lit up the whole tent. He’d give anything to see it again and again for the rest of his life.

Then she nodded, and Azriel’s hand left hers to find purchase behind her neck before he pressed his lips to hers. Her mouth was warm and soft, tentatively moving against him as she snuggled even closer to his side. His wings tightened around her as well, finally allowed the closeness they craved. The kiss turned more and more heated after a while, Gwyn gaining confidence from the way Azriel responded to her moves. After what felt like seconds, but was more like minutes, both had to pause for breath. When they finally parted, still tasting the other on their tongue, Gwyn smiled that sunshine-smile again.

“Well, now I am kind of glad you didn’t kiss me like that in front of the others.”, she giggled while burring her face into the crook of his neck. Azriel did the same but with his nose in her hair.

For a while, they simply stayed like that, in an embrace that spoke of unlimited truth and trust. Azriel was sure Gwyn had fallen asleep from the evenness of her breathing, so he started to run his hand over her back and hair, ecstatic that he could do this mundane thing. With her, it would never be mundane, he thought.

When he was drifting off to sleep himself, he almost didn’t hear her, thinking it was just his imagination playing a trick on him. But come morning Gwyn would tell him it hadn’t been a dream, that she really said it.

“I love you too, Az, with all my heart.”

[pokemonbiologyirlthetabletop]

Audino

Audino (#531)

Audino audino

General Information: Audino the Hearing Pokémon. This Pokémon is able to use the feelers near its ears as a stethoscope to listen to the heartbeats of others. Its hearing is one of the sharpest in the Pokémon world. Audinos average at 3’11 feet (1.1 M) tall and weigh about 68.3 pounds (31 kg). They have a Mega Evolution: Mega Audino is a Normal/Fairy type that weighs 70.5 pounds (32 kg) and is about 4’11 feet tall (1.5 M).

Habitat: Audino are indigenous to the Americas. They are most commonly found in temperate regions.  

Life Cycles: Audinos are born as singles or twins in the late Spring, where they are raised by two diligent parents. There are not many that predate upon Audinos, but there are still some who may try taking a bite out of a baby—however, when this happens, the parent Audinos will remember who it was that ate their child, and will refuse to heal that Pokémon in the future, should the opportunity ever present itself. Because of this, its common knowledge to avoid harming the Audinos of the area, though of course this doesn’t stop predation entirely. Really, the biggest threats to an Audino’s life are the elements, disease, “old age,” and poachers.

An Audino leaves the nest of its parents after two years, and become reproductively mature at three years old (and have reached level 15). When it’s time to find a mate, the Audino will perform a dance for its crush and hope that it accepts it gesture of love. Together, the Audino and its mate will build a nest together either in a hollow of sorts, and lay their own egg(s) when its time. New eggs are not laid until the current babies leave the nest or are about to leave, so there are new Audinos per couple about every 3 years.

Behavior: Audinos are friendly and helpful Pokémon who are willing to use their powers to heal others. Because of this, Audinos receive some protection in their home environments, since other Pokémon like having them around and value them for their healing powers more than their tastiness. Audinos are patient and kind, but unforgiving of those who eat their children, siblings, or mates. And the Audinos talk—someone who breaks the truce with one Audino, has broken the truce with all of them in the area.

Diet: Audinos are herbivores that eat berries, nuts, leaves, and mushrooms. Trainers can feed them on a good diet of generic plant-based Pokémon food, available from companies like PokeBright Food.

Conservation: Threatened

Relationship with Humans: Audinos have been friends with humans since they first arrived in the Americas tens of thousands of years ago. As with the other creatures of the wild, Audinos have held a truce with humanity all this time, and are revered as benign healers. Some groups take Audinos in as pets, where they are loved and cared for as members of the family. It was only when the European colonizers showed up and began hunting the unsuspecting Audinos, did their relationship with humanity change for the worse. Audinos became an easy source of food for the European squatters, and unfortunately this really didn’t change for a long time, and wild Audino numbers dwindled over the centuries. It wasn’t until around the American Civil War era, when wounded soldiers sent far from home were healed by unfamiliar wild Audinos, did popular perception of Audinos change and their relationship with people changed once again for the better. Their wild populations continue to be below pre-colonial numbers, but captive populations persist and are common in healthcare, childcare, training gyms, and safety settings.

Classification: The Audino is the only one of its kind in its genus, and thus it is simply known as Audino audino in the scientific literature.

[itsawhumpsideblog]

The Safehouse, pt. 1

Had some ideas, thought I'd start writing. Here goes, I guess?

CW: for institutionalized slavery, mentions of abuse, treatment of people as things

The call came on their anachronistic landline while Angie was washing the dishes and it made her jump. She wanted to grab it right away, but she was in soap suds up to her elbows and had only gotten as far as toweling dry when Tim came skidding around the corner and grabbed the receiver off it's hook.

"Hello?" he asked, breathlessly, as though anyone else would call on that line. Parents and friends would have texted their individual phones; this phone could only ring for one purpose.

Angie finished drying her arms and walked over to lean against the wall, hoping to hear some of the conversation instead of waiting for Tim to hang up and relay the information. To her disappointment, he did a lot of listening and very little talking and there wasn't much she could glean until he thanked the person on the other end and turned to her.

"Well?" she asked anxiously.

Tim sucked in a deep breath as if steeling himself for something serious, which was more or less the case. "They're sending us three of them," he said. "Our contact says we should expect them to arrive tomorrow. They'll be delivered by WRU employees, so don't be surprised by the method of delivery, but he promised the abolitionists falsified records somewhere to get them sent here- no money changed hands. He was very clear about that."

It was no good asking who the contact was or how the delivery orders had been created. For the safety of the whole network, they would never know.

"We'd better get ready," Angie said needlessly. They had a checklist, but it made her feel better- more prepared- to say it out loud. "We'll have to make the beds, make sure we have food they can eat- did they say anything about allergies?"

"No, nothing." They knew better than to ask about preferences. The rescued box boys likely wouldn't be able to have preferences for some time, or at least not express them.

"So beds, food, soap and shampoo for their bathroom, fresh towels." Angie counted items on her fingers. "They'll need clothes- did they give you any information about sizes?"

Tim shook his head. "Just said they were coming tomorrow and that there were three of them- all men. They'll be with us permanently, until they're rehabbed well enough to live independently or in a halfway house. They're-" he winced slightly at the next phrase "-'second hand' so we should be prepared for them to be in... pretty bad shape. Maybe very bad. Our contact didn't know." Tim's voice had gone very quiet as he spoke and he was looking at his shoes.

Angie nodded. "We'll do everything we can," she said. "Do you want to split up and go shopping separately? Get it done faster?"

"Can I go with you?" Tim asked. He looked up at her through his bangs, smiling sheepishly. "I'm- I'm a little nervous. I didn't think I would be. But it would help to go together, maybe talk things over on the way."

"Of course," Angie said. "We can go together if you want. We should get started."

"I'll put my shoes on." Tim went to the front hall and returned a minute later wearing sneakers and a hoodie against the cold weather. He pulled keys out of the pocket and they let themselves out of the single-family home and got in the car parked out front.

The house was not really theirs and neither was the car; Angie and Tim had only known each other for a few weeks and both felt that it would be a while yet before they were comfortable living and working together. They had been paired up after training, a mostly-virtual affair offered in secret and only after volunteers had passed several levels of security and background checks and the like. The abolitionists could not afford to operate too overtly, but they managed to create and staff safehouses and Angie and Tim, along with others they would never meet, had been deemed to posses the qualities necessary to help rehabilitate rescued box boys.

And now, as of tomorrow morning, they would be the caretakers for three young men rescued from... whatever it was that WRU had done to them.

The pairing seemed to have been well made, or at least Angie and Tim thought it was. They had quickly become comfortable with each other and Angie's organized, energetic determination was a useful foil to Tim's quiet, gentle nature. She looked around and saw what needed to be done; his strength was in finding the right way to do it.

As they passed through stores, they talked and debated and made choices as if intentionally demonstrating these choices. It was Angie who steered them directly to the linens and quickly put her hand to the best financial choices, while Tim made sure the items were available in different colors and patterns, so that the new arrivals would each have something to call their own. Later, he ensured that the towels did not match the bedsheets, so the young men would not feel color-coded. Thanks to Angie, they kept the whole thing under-budget. "That leaves more," she said, "that we can spend on them later, when we know what they need."

That night, they ate pizza and stayed up until the early hours setting up the bedroom and bathroom. There was a bunkbed and another single bed to match it, mattresses to haul upstairs and put on the beds, a bathtub to wash out and curtains to hang. The house had come partially furnished, but they had expected more time to get it ready.

No matter, though. By the time they went to their own rooms to sleep, they felt confident that they were ready for the new arrivals.

Next time: a knock on the door and the population of the house grows.

Master Post

[trappedtowers]

THE SECURITY AND SURVIVAL CENTRE

ATTENTION RESIDENTS OF THE VALLEY. IF YOU RECIEVE THIS MESSAGE YOUR ATTENTION IS MANDATORY FOR SURVIVAL.

Welcome to The Security and Survival Centre, the core centre of operations for your survival in the new age of Alton Towers.

History:

When Nemesis attacked, most Phalanx members were ordered to fight alongside the Towers' mascots to stop it. As we know, this led to the end of the Phalanx - who failed their only mission. All except one singular Phalanx Scientist, who managed to escape a brutal death by the creature. They retreated back into the Phalanx Research Facility, the building the Phalanx had been using to prepare and monitor the activities of Alton Towers. With all their colleagues gone, and their safety compromised, they began doing what they could to rennovate the building. Eventually, they found the Air mascot - Cy - too, who joined them in the new hideout. After the initial few months, they had taken all three floors of the facility and transformed it into what it is today!

Long gone was the Phalanx... now stood what is Forbidden Valley's last hope.

Layout:

The Security and Survival Centre (S&S Centre) is open to all and home to all your needs for surviving the current situation we face.

Floor 1:

Starting at Ground Level, you'll find yourself at the top of the facility. This is where all main communications and outdoor security equipment is stored.

Using our advanced super computer, as well artificial intelligence guide EVE, you can access a plethora of resources and information regarding the state of the land, dangerous creatures and how to handle them, and visual on activities that the S&S Rescue Team may need to finish which brings us to the second half of the first floor.

The S&S Rescue Team are constantly needing to go out to find lost survivors and new hazards in the Valley. As such, the first floor contains all necessary gear for heading out to face the dangers of Nemesis' minions. This equipment is free to use for all civilians and it is highly advised that you take some of the equipment before heading out. Alongside all of that is the Training Grounds for practice and preperation. Do checks of your gear in a safe and secure zone, or head straight to our trials to put your skills to the test. However you choose to prepare, the Training Grounds will make sure you're set to go out and fight the monsters of Forbidden Valley.

Floor 2:

Going down a floor, you'll find the Sleeping Quarters, Relaxation Room, Medical Centre, and the Strategic Planning Hub. For those wishing to stay with us and join the S&S Rescute Team, you will find your stay between missions to mainly be spent here. We've gathered what we can to make a comforting space amongst the hells of the outside world. Each soldier is designated their own Sleeping Quarter that you can fill with your personal belongings and decorations to make yourself feel at home.

On top of that, we have the Relaxation Room, a hub for everyone to relax during our downtime, play games, chat and rest up. All food and supplies are stored here too, so you can pick from a well stocked selection of snacks and drinks to enjoy. Of course, we also have the Medical Centre, where we bring any injured survivors to treat and heal. Current residents may also enter the clinic at any point to be seen by one of our doctors who will help with any physical or mental concern you may be facing.

Finally for the middle floor, we have the Strategic Planning Hub - the centre of our last hopes for the future. Here we hold regularly meetings discussing plan of action for the future, where to go, and how to act. All members of the S&S will have the opportunity to join us in this space and chip in to our plans of action and add ideas to the document. This space will be constantly used until we are free, so if you wish to become a part of the group that helps set the Towers free, this is the place to be.

Floor 3:

On farthest down floor you'll find The Lab - our main area for experimenting and creation.

The Lab is split in two halfs. In the first half, you'll find the testing grounds for "Power Shards", genetic enhancements, and DNA analysis. This half utilises the power given to us by the Towers to analyse and find new methods to combat the Nemesi aliens, and hopefully one day Nemesis itself.

On the other half is all engineering work and testing, using the parts we can gather to craft new machinary, weapons, armour, and more to help boost our day to day life. Upon new upgrade discoveries too, S&S members can visit this half to get this applied to their own personal equipment.

Through each day both halves work together to discover how both can enhance the progression and discovery of each. Sometimes, technology will be enhanced through the powers of the Towers, and sometimes our analysis for DNA can be enhanced through our new technological discoveries.

Deeper Beyond:

Our power supply actually heads further down than those 3 floors, with all power coming from the thermoelectric generators we installed in caves closer to some of the lava pools that now exist within the Forbidden Valley. Every now and then, we do have teams go down to ensure they're all looked after and kept up to date to avoid power outages. However, with the location and source - our data predicts we should be able to last off of it longer than any of us here will naturally live!

Thank You

Residents, if you have made it this far, then I can safely say you are now fully informed on the information regarding the Survival & Security Centre.

Best of luck out there, we hope to see you soon in one piece.

- The S&S Team

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

For many cooks, waiters and bartenders, it is an annoying entrance fee to the food-service business: Before starting a new job, they pay around $15 to a company called ServSafe for an online class in food safety.

That course is basic, with lessons like “bathe daily” and “strawberries aren’t supposed to be white and fuzzy, that’s mold.” In four of the largest states, this kind of training is required by law, and it is taken by workers nationwide.

But in taking the class, the workers — largely unbeknown to them — are also helping to fund a nationwide lobbying campaign to keep their own wages from increasing.

The company they are paying, ServSafe, doubles as a fund-raising arm of the National Restaurant Association — the largest lobbying group for the food-service industry, claiming to represent more than 500,000 restaurant businesses. The association has spent decades fighting increases to the minimum wage at the federal and state levels, as well as the subminimum wage paid to tipped workers like waiters.

The federal minimum wage has risen just once since 1996, to $7.25 from $5.15, while the minimum hourly wage for tipped workers has been $2.13 since 1991. Minimums are higher in many states, but still below what labor groups consider a living wage.

For years, the restaurant association and its affiliates have used ServSafe to create an arrangement with few parallels in Washington, where labor unwittingly helps to pay for management’s lobbying. First, in 2007, the restaurant owners took control of a training business. Then they helped lobby states to mandate the kind of training they already provided — producing a flood of paying customers.

More than 3.6 million workers have taken this training, providing about $25 million in revenue to the restaurant industry’s lobbying arm since 2010. That was more than the National Restaurant Association spent on lobbying in the same period, according to filings with the Internal Revenue Service.

That $25 million represented about 2% of the National Restaurant Association’s total revenues over that same period, but more than half of the amount its members paid in dues. Most industry groups are much more reliant on big-dollar donors or membership support to meet their expenses. Most of the association’s revenues come from trade shows and other classes.

Tax-law experts say this arrangement, which has helped fuel a resurgence in the political influence of restaurants, appears legal.

But activists for raising minimum wages — and even some restaurant owners — say the arrangement is hidden from the workers it relies on.

“I’m sitting up here working hard, paying this money so that I can work this job, so I can provide for my family,” said Mysheka Ronquillo, 40, a line cook who works at a Carl’s Jr. hamburger restaurant and at a private school cafeteria in Westchester, Calif. “And I’m giving y’all money so y’all can go against me?”

Ms. Ronquillo is also a labor organizer in California. She said that she had taken the class every three years, as required, and that she never knew ServSafe funded the other side of that fight.

As workers have become more aware of how their payments to ServSafe are used, something of a backlash is developing. Looking ahead to coming battles over minimum wages in as many as nine states run by Democrats, including New York, Saru Jayaraman of the labor-advocacy group One Fair Wage said she was encouraging workers to avoid ServSafe.

“We’ll be telling them to use any possible alternatives,” Ms. Jayaraman said.

The kind of class that these workers pay for, called “food handler” training, is offered by ServSafe or its affiliates in all 50 states and the District of Columbia. But an online database maintained by the National Restaurant Association show the vast majority of its classes are taken in four large states where food-handler classes are mandatory for most workers: Texas, California, Illinois and Florida.

Other companies also offer this training. But restaurant industry veterans say that ServSafe is the dominant force in the market — to the point that some restaurant owners said they did not realize there were alternatives.

“ServSafe is very much the Kleenex” of the industry — a brand that defines the business, said Nick Eastwood, who runs a competitor called Always Food Safe. “We believe they’ve got at least 70%+ of the market. Maybe higher.”

The president of the National Restaurant Association, Michelle Korsmo, declined to be interviewed. In a written statement, she said the group had sought to protect both public health and the financial health of the industry.

“The association’s advocacy work keeps restaurants open; it keeps workers employed, it finds pathways for worker opportunity, and it keeps our communities healthy,” Ms. Korsmo wrote. Her group declined to say how much of the training market it captures.

As money flowed in from the National Restaurant Association’s training programs, its overall spending on politics and lobbying more than doubled from 2007 to 2021, tax filings show. The national association donated to Democrats, Republicans and conservative-leaning think tanks, and sent hundreds of thousands of dollars to state restaurant associations to beef up their lobbying.

During the Clinton and Obama administrations, the association was a major force in limiting employer-provided health care benefits. And though pressure from liberal groups has grown and workers’ wages have fallen for decades when adjusted for inflation, the group helped assemble enough bipartisan opposition to scuttle a bill in 2021 to raise the federal minimum wage for all workers to $15 per hour over five years.

The association had also won a series of battles over state-level wage minimums, though its fortunes reversed last year. Both the District of Columbia and Michigan moved to eliminate the “tip credit” system — where restaurants are allowed to pay waiters a salary below the minimum wage, on the expectation that tips from customers will make up the rest. That was the first time any state had eliminated the tip-credit system in more than 10 years.

Legally, the National Restaurant Association and its state-level affiliates are a species of nonprofit called a “business league,” with more freedom to lobby than a traditional charity.

Since the 1960s, their lobbying has focused heavily on the minimum wage — arguing that labor-intensive operations like restaurants, which employ more workers at or near the minimum wage than any other industry, could be put out of business by any significant increase in employee costs.

Fifteen years ago, they had just lost a battle in that fight.

Over the association’s objections, Congress had raised the minimum wage to $7.25 an hour. Former board members said they were searching for a new source of revenue — without asking members to pay more in dues.

“That’s when the decision was contemplated, of buying the ServSafe program,” said Burton “Skip” Sack, a former chairman of the association’s board. “Because it was profitable.”

At the time, the ServSafe program was run by a charity affiliated with the restaurant association. The association bought the operation, transforming it into an indirect fund-raising vehicle.

After that, state restaurant associations in California, Texas and Illinois lobbied for changes in state law.

Previously, those states had required food-safety training for restaurant managers, which typically was paid for by restaurants themselves. After the association’s takeover of ServSafe, lobbying records show, the state affiliates pushed for a broader and less-common type of mandate, covering all food “handlers” like cooks, waiters, bartenders and those who bus tables.

The three state legislatures agreed, in lopsided votes.

In written statements, the state restaurant associations said they were not trying to raise money. Instead, they said they worked with other groups seeking to reduce food-borne disease.

“This law was happening with or without our participation in the process,” said the president of the California Restaurant Association, Jot Condie. California legislative records show his association was the sponsor of the bill that imposed the mandate.

ServSafe soon had waves of new customers, which in turn generated more money for the association and its lobbying efforts. Today, Florida, California, Texas, Illinois and Utah all have similar requirements. John Bluemke, a senior vice president for sales at ServSafe from 2002 to 2010, said there was little need to pursue mandates in smaller states: “Once you did the big states, who cares about Nebraska?”

“If you’ve got a million people going through that thing, do the math,” Mr. Bluemke said. The National Restaurant Association does not release figures about the cost of offering food-handler classes, but Mr. Bluemke said that — because they are generally offered online — the costs are low and the profits high.

“We always said the first course costs you a million dollars,” Mr. Bluemke said, for making the video. “And the rest are free.”

When managers take mandatory training, restaurant veterans say, the employer usually pays. But state websites say that restaurant employees should expect to pay for these classes themselves, and restaurant workers interviewed by The New York Times said that was their experience.

The restaurant association notes that some employers have covered the costs of getting certified and that employees are given lower rates in certain circumstances. So not all 3.6 million workers paid $15 each.

“The N.R.A. is different from most traditional trade associations in our business model,” Dawn Sweeney, the National Restaurant Association’s chief executive at the time, wrote to members in 2014 — reminding them of what a good deal they had.

Business leagues, which are tax-exempt, are generally allowed to run a for-profit business, as long as it advances the common interest of their broader trade. The National Restaurant Association contends that its business cleanly fits this standard.

“The rules the I.R.S. has passed are not always clear as to what is and is not allowed,” said Anna Massoglia, an investigations manager at OpenSecrets, a nonpartisan group that tracks the flow of money in politics. “This makes it easier for groups to exploit that lack of clarity. I’m not familiar with another group that has done it to this scale.”

The Internal Revenue Service declined to comment, citing taxpayer-privacy rules.

For restaurant workers, there is little clue that money paid to ServSafe supports lobbying — much less lobbying that tries to keep workers’ pay low. The only hint is a line on ServSafe’s website, saying it “reinvests proceeds from programs back into the industry.”

Even some members of the restaurant association — the beneficiaries of this arrangement — said they did not know how it worked.

Johnny Martinez, a Georgia restaurateur, said he supports a $15 minimum wage and pays at least that much in a state where it is still $7.25 per hour. And he describes his association membership as “the price of entry” for navigating the industry, “even though I disagree with them on a lot of things.”

But he expressed frustration upon discovering the connections between ServSafe and lobbying efforts, saying “it feels very wrong” to him.

“This is a certification that’s also wrapped up inside of a lobbyist,” Mr. Martinez said. “It is weird that the tests that they require the workers to pay for are being run by the same company that’s fighting to make sure those people don’t make more money.”

[delicatebluebirdruins]

Mia's nightmares

a/n some time working for the connections (going off the Kaitai Shinsho guide for it)

this is very self-indulgent, yes, the pictures where needed, yes, I wanted to touch on somethings but writing wise? I am rusty.

small playlist: You shine Carrie the musical; go tell aunt Rhody (both versions original and re7); I found amber run; someday and bullet proof by Godsmack (I wish I could have found acoustic versions); I’ll make it up to you by imagine dragons.

Information on how to handle missing people is really interesting and I included a bit of my research into this.

No beta reader we die like ethan must never die but a huge thank you. To @precambrian-sea-pancake for putting up with me through out all of this. I don’t have the words to describe how grateful I am for their help.

more notes in the tags

2010 March 1st Interview Day. When she went in, she was as prepared as she was going to be. The day was warm for March. The job was entry level with some traveling involved and some desk work. It would also be putting good in the world months of research told her that much... the interview went well and by the end of April she started work and for the few months she was on desk work, and it was normal. Routine. During that time fire drills were very rare and of course the outbreak drills were slightly fewer but still there and it startled them all every time. The implications behind it created a horrible combination of safety and terror that it could happen here in her place of work. After three of these outbreak drills it was decided that all desk workers got put into the combat training course for a few months after that was done, she and a few others were put into advanced combat. For the next few months, she could have sworn she was being followed but it’s a small world you're bound to run into people outside of professional (or educational) places, right? but she didn’t actually recognise the guy when she got a good look at him, it wasn’t from work she was sure of that much, but the recognition remains, and this just seemed to be deliberate...

date night few months later: she was always giddy to see Ethan and they'd been so busy of late. This time it was simple. A takeaway dinner from their favourite place and a walk in the park and they walked past the horse statue and sat next to the pond talking and keeping an eye on the bolder squirrels as they ate their food enjoying its warmth and, talking about everything and looking at the clouds shape. it was the most normal she felt in months. Neither noticed the people watching them.

2011 May after many more dates she and Ethan got married. it was joyful their friends and family there, the favourite photos of the shoot and the gift of the music box from Ethans grandmother was what made her cry. he told her about it how much it soothed him when he was younger and scared of the dark. throughout all of it they don't let go of each other’s hands. As the day slipped away the light flickered into gold and the last pictures of the day were done everyone went home and then so did, they.

2012 She was still being taught combat training and was improving with hand to hand, and her arms training was doing even better. As time went on, she was moved away from desk work and sent out and trained off site for a greater range of terrains like the beach at night (the running she had to do was killer) that specific trip took a few days to recover from. But it all meant she got stronger, and it meant less makeup and less bruises. less things to hide from Ethan (she didn't want to think of the times he grazed a bruise by accident, and she flinched. and how hurt he looked for it) considering the world she felt confident... it was only a matter of time till the next major outbreak shook the news. (And just as quickly the BSAA will take control and the information coming out will be cut off). As it was. The civil war in Edonia and rumors of something being used in combat situations. That fear was reflected on everyone she saw during those months.

Getting home and hearing the soft music playing put a smile on her face the first genuine one in months. approaching quietly, she dropped a kiss on Ethan's head as he played a song that she hadn't heard in a while. dimly remembering the lyrics, she sat next to him and sang softly "What a surprise, gazing into your eyes. I swear that I still get lost in the light. No photograph could possibly show. The you I know" and watched a smile grace his face as it always did when she joined him here, she was glad that he couldn't see her face as she remembered how that song and the story itself ended. Realising what was coming up she had an idea of what to get him.

As time went on her business trips were training of a different kind. She got sent with minimal warning (having to come up with a plausible reason for her leaving that got harder and harder) and a firm order of no personal items. So she also had to think of when to take off and stow her wedding ring she was already worried of losing it. The missions were always how to get items from a certain point to a specific destination unimportant things with different challenges thrown in to distract and horrify her. They did at first but then they didn't as much. On the occasions of people dying (both friend and enemy) her superiors always waved it off with fake blood and hired actors to play dead. That explanation worked for a while, but the nightmares and guilt remained. It wasn’t until she got told that she had completed the training and she was sent out on more serious missions. With real life and death stakes. That she had doubts about the first explanation during the training period there was no difference between the real and the faked. And she got better at seeing the potential pitfalls the traps and sometimes the violence turned her stomach, but she worked through it thinking she was working for the good guys. The trips put their own kind of strain on her relationship with Ethan because she couldn't tell him what she was transporting or anything else and seeing each other so rarely. They had more arguments then ever during this period.

Anniversary one (2012) she got Ethan a few sketchbooks as he was lamenting that he hadn’t had a chance to get any recently. It was simple but then so were they. Ethan had her grandfathers clock fixed. It was a big clock or particularly old but when she was a child she remembered Gappy winding it, remembered when the paint faded the time he spent taking care of it. Time and use had damaged it and it was not easily fixed. And she cried when she realised that she couldn’t fix it. So this meant so much to her.

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Jan 2014 was when she was approached and told she fit the criteria to be brought onto the E-000 project and the world shattered. Alan Droney (the director of the special operations division he introduced himself as) collected her and left outside the door. She went through the blood-soaked bed was out of place in the blinding white room she did not notice the black and the man crying in pain as he cradled what was left of his arm. and the child standing over him. and they all watched as the limb regrew and the sound of the sobbing and the horrible scratching of pen on paper as the stop watches they all had ticked on marking the time for this regrowth to take place, she knew these sights and sounds would follow her into sleep tonight.

snapping to attention as one of the researchers said her daughter was so powerful, wasn't she? the fanatical gleam was even more unsettling than the words somehow then the woman turned her attention turned and she approached the child. Eveline, they called her. they didn't say any names to the researchers they just referred to each other as elements on the periodic table (it felt more like an inside joke at times) the woman with the fanatical gleam was not called anything of the sort she was simply called Maică Superioară. Afterwards the researchers sat with and described what her role will be that the imprinting protocol will be started between her and Evie. With that bond Evie will trust her implicitly and listen to her the most. The pressure and the responsibility for it was immense. She would have an increase in pay. The display when she entered was part of a show. Put on to shock her. A small test for her mind. Another one when she thought about it. They mentioned briefly that there may be a time where she had to transport Evie but didn't elaborate and she wasn't given the chance to ask. Transporting a child, a bioweapon is hugely different then transporting old treasures. She hoped they would give her more training for that event. Listening to the sales pitch and thinking of all it will entail her thoughts cycled. This went from shadiness to beginning to descend into a cave from which there would be no leaving. She wasn’t sure of anything anymore like the companies’ goals anymore or their apparent desire to do good in the world.

She was lucky to get home when she did a week later as rifling through the post, she opened the plain envelope addressed to her and there were pictures of her and ethan in their house, on dates, with friends. the message was clear you are being watched and you know what will happen if he learns anything. Anything at all. She felt like an injured animal cornered by her own thoughts and his concern and love, so she walked out the door and he found her after a bit. the ticking got louder every time he asked what she was hiding from him every time he said she was lying to him... she was relieved at not having to answer as their phones rang but it wasn't over. it never was with Ethan, but he left it alone gave her space, but she could feel his eyes watching her and the feeling of being on a balancing beam that was getting more lopsided every second (she just did her best to avoid him for the next few months)

left to right: Manganese; Boron; Iridium.

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Coming back into work the next day the researchers mentioned the envelope repeating plainly to not tell anyone what she saw with Evie... she felt anxious more than she had ever been before here. There was no official paperwork to sign and there was a threat here. A threat that became all to, clear when weeks later and she and Evie were talking (all the while being watched) and being made to interact more and more when the child said, "you're nicer than the old one" and confused she looked down and the girl smiled and pointed at the wall of pictures the researchers put up (something you can see through the large window of Evie’s room) and in the middle one was of an older woman and Eveline moved her finger to another photo of a man and said that was her husband and then there was another photo of them being covered with mold. They were both turning into the monsters she was being trained to fight. the warning was clear. don't fuck this up.

Home time brought another ominous envelope feeling tense around her shoulders and neck she opened it and it was just bills. but the day was stressful and long and the tears spilled over and didn't stop until Ethan got home. he took in the situation and crouched in front of her gently taking the letter reading it and just understood it was the last straw of a long day. taking her hands and sitting next to her and just being for a bit. then they got supper ready simple and warming then went to bed.

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there were many times where she noticed how the researchers treated Evie. when she started Evie asked her many questions about her family (she mentioned bits but never any names) about the world at large she wondered why (it didn't last long) the other researchers treated her as a tool, to a certain extent Iridium and Manganese were the closest to treating her as a person, and she was never around for Evie's one on one conversations with Maică but knowing the woman she wished she was... Iridium had an ear worm and for weeks on repeat whistled the same song over and over again or worse sang it. Evie sometimes hummed (getting a smile from Iridium) along as well adding to the eeriness of the tune but she didn’t do it often. the lyrics she didn't think much of until they found her at sleep "go tell aunt Rhody old... gander is weeping because his wife is dead" always morphed into "when she’s done, he’ll be torn apart" when that happened, she always woke up always reached for Ethan before stopping as touching him would make him wake and she would have to come up with yet another lie.

She tried not to think how many have died at her own hands during the actual missions she was sent on and the people she heard die whilst she was learning about the d series (the screams and roars echoed) and what happened to them during the nights where that song was the accompaniment. Maică seemed to see her as a rival for Evie’s affections but during this training stage Mia and Evie hadn’t interacted a lot at all. And her looking in on the lessons especially about the ones that would neutralise Evie she always had a terrifying look on her face whenever she happened across these lessons. But the researchers insisted that these lessons were worst case scenario that Eveline was perfect. That there was hope for her looking at Eveline's stony expression Mia didn’t know what to say. The day after training she arrived and was going through the motions of arriving. Getting in putting her stuff in the locker assigned and wishing she had a lab coat as well because it was getting harder to explain to Ethan why she came home in different clothes that she left in. Exchanging a smile with Manganese they pushed through the door and heard the scream. A scream from Maică, and Maică was never anything but calm and distant. No one could think of a time where she had raised her voice let alone screamed. So, they all came running expecting carnage, but nothing was amiss, but Maică just seemed frustrated hugely so. Before anyone could ask anything, she knocked over a tray of syringes making them all jump and left. They didn't see her again for the next two days. Everything changed after that Maică was distant and angry and everyone who had to cross her path did so on eggshells and Evie just seemed hurt and wouldn't speak around anyone but Mia and even then, not like she used to.

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2014 Anniversary third: last years was missed entirely all money and effort were spent in mending their house that was damaged in a storm and they were just busy. But this year busy again but they did manage to get each other something needed as their originals were no longer salvageable Mia gave Ethan a new wallet and he gave her a travelling bag with little extras thrown in. His had a picture from their first date and an old penny that his mum found. It would seem silly to anyone else, but the coin is distinct and had a story behind it.

Home time was something dreaded especially on bad days with Evie. As the rates of accidental infections of the mold became unnervingly frequent. As it was not clear for her what the imprint would mean for her if she was infected... she dreaded bringing baggage home with her, she dreaded his eyes that watched her every move and the invisible axe over Ethan's head. She couldn't bear the sound of ticking now wondering how long it will be before this blew up. they started to bicker and argue. There were many times she felt the words explaining what her job entailed bubbling up and wanting to be shared with him to help them all. The threats were effective though and she felt she could deal with her problem as long as Ethan was safe. The dreams were getting worse. one night a bad one had Ethan screaming begging for something she couldn't hear, and she tried to get to him but couldn't. She was going through treacle and her hands felt sticky and wet looking down realising they were covered in blood. Ethan's blood. Waking she began to reach for Ethan but remembered the dream. She lay down again and turned away from him and waited for the morning.

She didn't want to sleep again that night. when she "woke up" Ethan had already left fixing herself a quick breakfast she noticed a piece of paper on the table and picked it and realised it was a doodle of the horse statue in the park seeing it inspired her. During her lunch break she went out and got a pad of paper and cheap colouring pencils after she smuggled those in once the days testing was done and she was certain they were not being watched. She sat with Evie, and they doodled together for the rest of the day. To start with Evie was content with just shapes and lines as any child would do but she got more confident and drew people as well. It was one of the most normal interactions Evie and Mia has ever had. After they were done Mia hid the pictures under Evie’s mattress and said goodbye to the girl. To Evie however this afternoon meant the world to her. The next few weeks after was terrible though. Manganese didn’t show up for work at all and the others seemed on edge. Mia was kept out of the loop as usual. Then one day he was brought into the lab handcuffed and bruised. Looking like he had been tortured. And shoved to the ground he faced his fate. As Maică and Boron told Evie to take control of him and she did. As they all watched he grabbed a knife and slashed himself repeatedly. All the while this was silent… Mia wanted to stop it, but she knew this mood. It had been all to frequent with Maică recently and her ire would turn on Mia herself if she said anything. It wasn’t until the next day when she heard the reasoning behind this display. He was merely suspected of giving secrets to the BSAA or someone else. They didn’t know for sure. They found something suspicious and jumped straight to executioner. It was something a long time coming.

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October 2014 you would think Maică announcing that was leaving soon would throw a spanner in everything but it stabilised things more than anything else. And considering recent events the loss of Manganese and Iridium being “fired” she felt nervous coming into work the next day. As she entered the head office area leading to the stairs Mia noticed boxes everywhere and people packing them up and moving. She was told that this part of the building was rented out to other businesses, so she thought nothing of it. Turns out they were all moving as Maică and Boron announced Evie would be moved under the care of her and Alan. they weren't told why or why there was only two of them she felt a little confident. She and Evie had a solid rapport, and she and Alan worked well together but still they’d not been in the field with just the two of them and a powerful child. If the powers that be weren't confident in her and especially Alan's (as her superior officer) abilities, they wouldn't be sent at all. Still the doubt and the dread remained. They were given a time and a place. They were to be given an envelope holding their specific orders that was not allowed to be opened until they got onto the tanker. the Annabelle... all she heard in her dreams that night was screaming.

Date night: she was nervous. Worried. She was going to tell Ethan she was leaving on a longer trip tonight and she’d noticed people following her on and off again. And she couldn’t tell who they were working for this time. She heard the rumors that the BSAA was investigating bioweapon manufacturing in the area. She had considered calling them. Many times. But anonymous or not Ethan would still be caught in the middle. Ethan would be in danger. And she couldn’t see it be more or less if she said nothing or something. Hands shaking as she applied makeup to dark circles, she considered Evie what would happen to her. Despite everything she cared for the girl. They were both monsters at this point (especially Mia herself isolating herself from her friends and to a lesser extent Ethan himself) and she wanted to scream at everyone that showed her kindness. She was not able to protect Evie from Maică and her cruel comments (she still did not know anything about the woman other than she used to see Evie as her daughter but there was more to it than that… there had to be).

Especially recent comments. Breathing in and out she finished off her makeup and wanted to get rid of the mask. All of them and a small hope that one day she could… She hoped when it came to it, she could help the BSAA and bring down the connections. Her help would be minimal she had a few names, few places but some knowledge is better than no knowledge… going that way was where madness lies. So, she put it in the overstuffed drawer of pain and horror and tried to ignore it… The café she was going to was nice and Ethan was handsome as ever. She felt like she hadn’t seen him for years so this was so nice. Especially when they left and shared headphones. Less nice was the first song that came on “Oh I'll use you as a warning sign. That if you talk enough sense, then you'll lose your mind.” The song felt very close to raw nerve endings. She was amazed that she didn’t recoil hearing that song. He took the news well as she told him on the way home and taking what felt like a risk told him a little about Evie and he was understandably very confused about the child she was also going to be looking after as well but she just told him it was her boss’s child, and the kid was going to a new boarding school in the same area as where her destination is (he was going to ask where that was but she cut him off. Taking him aback), and they didn’t want her travel on her own just yet. So, it was two birds one stone.

October 3rd Early Afternoon the group gathered together for a photo, and she felt out of place. Maică left not soon after and then they received the envelope and were sent home for last minute packing and so they did. She felt on edge and nervous as she checked her bag. Jumping when Ethan spoke from the doorway and asked (again) why she was lying to him. All she felt looking at him was a lump stopping her from speaking and the never-ending sound of ticking in her head. Even though this time she could actually be more truthful than usual. She said she wasn’t good enough for this trip. This time he only partially believed her… she could tell. In a change of pace Ethan offered to come with her and see her off at the dock. Her panic at Ethan and Evie meeting made her “no” too sharp, a tone she had never used on him, and the gutted feeling of watching Ethan flinch back from her was something she’d never forget. Picking up her wallet and ensuring her driver’s license was inside and putting it in her bag. Which she folded around and put it in the suitcase. As she did that Ethan noticed amongst her things there was nothing for a child in there. But dismissed assuming the kid would be having her own things with her. She backtracked and hoped her panic and fear was not obvious.

That he might come anyway all she said was good enough to make him stay home but not enough to wipe that wounded look off his face. And the sound of the car horn from her taxi prevented further words and there was only just enough time for her to press a kiss to his cheek. Before going outside and getting in the car. Losing sight of home and Ethan who was at the door by that point almost made her cry, but she couldn’t. At all. The last time she had really cried was getting the bills strangely putting that thought to the side she arrived at the dock and smelling the sea and the sounds of shouts and waves. Looking up at the tanker Mia felt miles away already floating in the sea. She hadn’t even left yet but she wanted to go home to talk to Ethan and be completely honest with him, but she was rooted to the ground with the fear of what could happen and of course the feeling of cold fingers on her arm and the tug on her sleeves made her look down at Evie who was looking up at her and then turned and looked at Alan who had his camera out. they stood together and she wondered if her discontent was obvious...

Getting into their quarters she eyed the open envelope that Alan had left for her to read as well. Picking it up with a sigh she began to read through it. It was not long but it still took a reread to understand their duties. She felt sick. Any confidence she had was gone. She had seen Evie take over people with her mold and how she made them act once infected and she felt nervous especially when focusing on that last point... what would make the mission that compromised? she supposed briefly that she would know what is considered to be "beyond reconciliation" when it happens but even then, she has seen Evie infect multiple people in a day, almost simultaneously. That had been her challenge the weeks after Manganese was executed infect multiple people at once. The next few nights she dreamed of screaming and blood and a horrible high-pitched giggle.

She woke up to a beautiful day and Alan and Evie weren't in their quarters... before she could worry, she noticed the note and only slightly relaxed she took the chance and went outside on deck sending a message to Ethan. Without thinking about her actions she pressed record. Something she did not usually do but considering her location and the oncoming storm she wanted it to get through. Starting off she was bright and happy how could she not? She was told her job here was almost done. The brightness dimmed a little as she caught sight of Evie and Alan, and she signed off after telling Ethan that her "babysitting" job would be over soon she brightened up again when she took the chance to say she loved him. She tried to ignore the feeling of foreboding that only got worse when she admitted her role in this was almost done to the camera just before stopping the recording.

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October 5th evening: when everything went wrong nobody else noticed (they would soon enough) to Mia it sounded like waves normal hustle and bustle the storm picking up as she passed a porthole carrying Alan. Evie’s giggle as she ran off. Trying to stem the rising panic getting to their quarters Alan pulled away and collapsed by the sofa. Coughing and weak. She sounded a lot calmer than she was feeling ignoring the panic at Alan’s infection and that she should have gone after Evie before tending to Alan. She crouched next to Alan. Stating the obvious “Alan you’re getting worse.” He admitted it was his fault Evie got out that she heard her own voice agree with him then everything rushed in and became clearer again when she promised Alan that she was not going to let him die and saw Alan reach out to her and felt the cool touch of the vial containing Evie's tissue samples with Alan saying, “you find her- you fix this”. She knew what it meant. Taking the vial, the situation was getting bad, but it could be worse. Fix this was echoing inside her head. She just had to get to Evie in time. So, turning to the door she searched for calm and finding it and the weight of her knife and handgun on her hip said with more confidence then she was feeling breathed in and said "Okay, Evie. Where are you ."

Leaving their quarters, she followed the codex to the kitchen finding the black vomit covering a good part of it cursing she reset the codex and updated Alan who stating the obvious said “this is getting out of hand” but she agreed because he was right. Going down to the bottom level fighting any molded she sees on the way. Going into the second engine room and hearing Evie’s voice from the shadows “are you mad at me mommy?” the response was automatic and truthful “no Evie I’m not mad” she wasn’t mad but as she spoke, she stuttered when the last word registered, and she felt wary and confused and wanted Evie to elaborate “wait what did you call me?” and with a pleading voice Evie continues with “I don’t want to live at the lab anymore. I want a house. And I want you to be my mommy” listening to Evie’s voice, Mia said something that she hoped would work “okay Evie I’ll be your mummy. come back with me right now.” It didn’t and Evie ran off again giggling with Mia’s over voice saying “Evie wait” as the Annabelles blaring sirens started up. Warning off the molded or the storm that was upon them? She thought. It was both. Leaving the engine room, she contacted Alan. “Did you find her?” Alan asked straight away her frustration was there “Yes but she ran off. she’s making more friends Alan; those things are everywhere.” More Coughing came from Alan. He did not sound good… he waved off her concern reminding her she has a job to do “you just worry about getting Eveline back.”

Making the trek back to their quarters to grab more ammo and check on Alan. Found Alan not there. Calling him lead nowhere there was no answer, and she left a message then she noticed the wall and the writing on it. It looked like blood all it said was “Evie’s upstairs.” Leaving going upstairs entering the corridor with Alan hunched over leaning against the wall (she only distantly noticed the open e Necrotoxin case near him). How did he get up here? She asked him that but all he said was “where’s Evie” updating him that Evie’s condition was deteriorating. All he said was “good thing I’m already dying” feeling desperate she pleads, not quite grasping how futile it was “don’t say that.”

A look comes over Alan’s face she hasn’t seen before or how to describe it really as he says "She trusts you. That little bitch, she never—” Getting up moving away from her spinning side to side looking at something she cannot see he begs “No, Evie, I—Evie—I didn't mean to call you that, Evie." Realising what was happening she spoke as clearly as possible “Alan, listen! She's trying to take control. You have to fight her”.

But it was too late, and he started to scream as the mold appeared on his body seeping through skin and clothes and vomiting it up. As he looked back up Mia turned her attention to Evie. It was instinctual to grab Alan as he was reaching forward. Her hands, on his shoulders ignoring the coldness of the mold she commanded “Eveline, stop! Stop right now!" trying to help them all. But it was too little the imprinting bond should have made this impossible and now it was too late. Alan realising, she was touching him yelled "Don't touch me!"  Pushing her as far away from him as he could but it wasn’t enough as she watched the mold consume his body and he collapsed. She saw the codex flashing red before his arm moved and Alan died. And then she saw Evie’s boots and a silhouette of arms swinging in the air before stilling as mold formed around her and Mia felt it cover her head and face screaming as the world went black… she did not know how long she was out if it all, but she became aware of her surroundings again looking down at her hands the macabre lace gloves of mold covering them. Getting up and panting watching as the mold sank into her skin. Leaving her normal hands behind. Not so normal.

Feeling Evie call for her, she began to follow it but first she noticed the bright light of the laptop. The brightest thing here. Fighting against the summons she went to it and sat down. Clenching her fist she pressed the record button, and this final message. Because one way or another she was going to die soon. She said “Ethan...” closing her eyes shaking herself. Panting as the calling became stronger, she continued “You were right. I did lie to you. I shouldn't have, but—” confirming his suspicions with that sentence and dooming him She closed her eyes again as Evie’s call was insistent “All I can say is that if you get this...” begging she said the words “Stay away. Forget that you ever knew me. Have a good life." She wanted him to live. She wanted him to move on when she was gone. Finishing the recording she stepped away from the laptop and continued on thinking she had pressed send but she hadn’t and in her desperation and Evie calling for her she didn’t think about the storm outside... Unbeknownst to Mia when she was buffeted by the wind it also hit the laptop sending it crashing to the ground and broken.

Going through the next door she caught up with Evie. Hearing the sound of running and screaming she put her arms up to defend herself as the crew member appeared and just as he was about to run into her exploded. As he did so Evie appeared and before Mia could say anything Evie promised in the most sinister voice Mia had ever heard from her “We’ll be together forever” As the siren lights flashed highlighting areas in red a blast of wind whipped down the corridor and the windows exploded. For the first time really feeling the power of the storm outside the walls of the ship broke apart. Mia felt herself slipping and grabbing for purchase but finding none found herself falling. Gripping onto an exposed pipe she looked up as if the power of her stair would keep her stable on the slippery metal, then she saw the falling bodies. As one went past, she felt it and it made her lose her grip. Looking down at the raging see she caught a glimpse of a gash on her arm but catching sight of a fire she looked up as the top exploded then she heard more closer to her. She looked up as something above her exploded and her grip was lost, and she fell. Her last look was of the ship and trying to keep afloat fighting the inevitable, but the storm was stronger, and she lost. The sea swallowed her. Fading in and out of consciousness she saw the colours of fire and the ships destruction before she lost consciousness entirely.

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Back home master bedroom 9th October 2014 A tanker ship was missing. Due to a storm. He didn’t think much of it at the time. Ethan was sitting on their flooring rummaging through papers and thought about Mia and her everything, little things like how jumpy she was how paranoid at times. And bigger things like the bruises and being vague about what she was doing. At the start she told him a lot but since the bruises started appearing. She began lying to him. And now he didn’t know what to think especially looking at the letter he was holding. The one with a threat against him. Before anything solidified in his head a loud knock sounded downstairs and opening the door, he found two men who introduced themselves as police officers asked to come in. and they talked about how in reviews of lists they found Mia’s name among the missing from the ship Annabelle. He closed his eyes as they told him they knew no more than that and left after telling him they will be back with more information when they get more for it. Few hours later a different set of police officers appeared in uniform said the same thing and Ethan didn’t say anything about the first pair. He didn’t think it was bad just poor department communication. But the look in the police officers’ eyes when he didn’t react as expected (because he already knew) was suspicious. With the same promise they left.

October 10th onwards Ethan began to look at the news slowly but surely putting information together as it became known. He looked at the list of names available Captain Ed Carlile to the Physician Gerald Waddel. He felt useless reading them. The investigators only gave him so much especially when their investigation was focused on him it was hard and relationships were damaged if not severed entirely because of it but that investigation only lasted a month and 1 week. But the damage was irreparable for everyone… he had a hard time trusting everyone in uniforms after that. It was a hard time for everyone, at the meetings of families who had also been affected by the Annabelles disappearance (people like him) he didn’t like hearing the arguments between those who thought their loved ones were dead and others thought they were alive and the amount of work they had to put in to making sure everything is safe for when… if they return. And of course, his situation and three others of being suspected of having something to do with it was still hard… in 2015 a few of the families decided to get a presumption of death certificate in March. Ethan heard their reasoning and understood why they were doing it but couldn’t take part, he and a few others still had hope. But they all went to support their friends, misery loves company and watching the argument take place was that indeed. That whilst it’s been less than a year the disappearance of a ship in a hurricane and coastal rescue teams finding nothing is good enough reason to believe they’re dead… It was not long later when Ethan and the others did the same. It was easier for them. They knew what to expect and there had been more time.

The day was warm, and the sun was shining, and he looked at the simple gravestone he and the others put together with the names that they knew. People who had families and friends. Mia Winters was towards the end. The others were obscured by flowers. He looked at his wedding band. The gleam in the sun, felt the engraving and took it off. Putting it in his pocket and going to a home that no longer felt like it.

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It was decided that they move back to the old facility. It was deemed safe. The leaks potential and actual were plugged. Going downstairs the gloved hands holding hers let go when they went through door into the room with a window. It wasn’t anything different then what she had been in before. It wasn’t until she was left alone, and the lights dimmed, she sat on the bed. Lay down on the thin mattress and heard a rustle. Getting up she reached under and found what had made the noise. Pictures of things she hadn’t seen before or heard of. She could barely make out the name on some “Eveline” and Mia was on the others. She didn’t know the names, but she knew that Eveline was her sister she wondered who Mia was (she hadn’t been introduced to her caretaker yet). Realising that made her… happy. She carefully put the papers back under mattress, the rustle meaning that she wasn’t alone. She lay down again and fell asleep. And had nice dreams for once. The girl was called Elora and she had no idea what was coming next.

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Chris Redfield read the file that was placed on his desk, then again, the third time he was able to read what was actually on the pages outside of “Blue Umbrella”. It was all the information that Blue Umbrella had on a bioweapon manufacturing group called The Connections and they were experimenting with a special type of mold that is it. There was a suspected list of incidents possibly related to it. Including a disappearance of a tanker called the Annabelle with a list of victims one seemed familiar Mia Winters nee Thorne but the familiarity was distant and he wasn’t able to place it. (the reason why would be something he remembered a few years later)

He heard the door opening as he continued reading the last page that they request him for his experience in handling bioweapons in the field when the need arises (it was never a question of “if” always “when”). No startling when a hand landed on his shoulder how could he? It was just Jill and Carlos behind her. Coming to check on him again possibly because they heard about this file. They took a seat with him and read through it all as well. Reacting as expected to the intel provided and how little they had. They had time (a week) so they read again and contacted informants. Contacting the families of the missing people from the Annabelle was a struggle and discussed every angle there was they could in that week and in the end? Chris signed the papers and started working with Blue Umbrella.

[thenationaltreasuregazette]

To the editor,

Thoughts on the various bumps, bruises, and scrapes that the team (TM) must have attained in the course of their adventure? My personal headcanon is that Abigail’s right shoulder is probably a bit screwed up: she did hang single-handed off the side of the food truck door for multiple minutes, and she landed on the same shoulder when she was knocked down and lost the Declaration in traffic. And then there was the whole ‘wooden stairs collapsing under Trinity Church thing’…

Love your work!

Hi Anon,

Thank you so much for your question! I’m glad you’ve been enjoying my little project. I definitely have.

Injuries! Oh yes I have so many thoughts, and like you, they mostly center around Abigail’s shoulder.

Aside from being tired, like just exhausted, nobody talk to me for three days t i r e d, the gang came through their adventure more or less in one piece. For as much as Ian and his crew liked to shoot at them them, nobody got hit, and after the Charlotte exploded, there wasn’t any direct violence of that sort either. The injuries we’re looking at are mostly incidental, the wear and tear of going through an ordeal like that.

Let’s take the trio one by one:

Riley

There’s only one injury actually mentioned directly in the dialogue of the film, and that is:

"Actually I still have this splinter that’s been festering for three months"

So Riley got a splinter. (I think he would be rather miffed if we didn’t acknowledge that up front, lol.)

Other than that, as the tech guy/comic relief, he’s usually a bit removed from the action. There are exceptions of course, like when he’s shot at in the van outside of the National Archives, but in general he comes out okay. He also makes it to safety almost immediately in the collapsing staircase sequence, which spares him most of the physicality of that event. So Riley makes it out with just the base level of exhaustion and fatigue.

And a splinter.

I think it’s safe to say that most of Riley’s scars from this one are emotional.

Ben

Ben’s role in the story is much more physical; he’s the one doing the bulk of the heisting, running, jumping, etc. There are four main point that I see where Ben could have been injured.

The first is rescuing Abigail from the catering truck. While hanging out of the van is certainly dangerous, Ben is in control of what he’s doing. He’s deciding how far he can reach, etc. Not so for Abigail. Since Riley is able to swerve around the oncoming bus, Ben escapes this moment seemingly no worse for wear.

Second is the chase through Philadelphia. Here he’s probably looking at some minor scrapes and bruises, mostly from diving through the graveyard. The gunshots hitting the headstones sent little bits of rock dust flying, which could have scratched up his face and hands. And he doesn’t seem to be cut or in pain after the chase, but if there were sharp edges on any of that scaffolding he could have scraped a hand, shin, etc.

It also clearly hurts when he punches Powell outside the cemetery; he even says “Ow!” as he shakes out his hand. But then it’s off on the chase again. His hand doesn’t seem to impede his ability to climb the scaffolding, and when he’s in FBI custody he’s interlacing his fingers pretty tightly. So the “Ow!” might have been more from the shock, the kind of stubbed-toe pain that’s worst in the moment and then subsides. Still, he might have scraped or bruised knuckles. He also might be feeling the punch later that afternoon or the next day, but after what is to come, it might get lost in all the other soreness.

Third is the jump from the Intrepid. We know that Ben has fairly extensive dive training. He wears a Rolex Submariner, which is a $10,000 watch? Ben, I have new questions about your finances. which is waterproof to 1000 feet. From the FBI’s profile we know that Ben’s education encompasses “Navy ROTC and Naval Diving and Salvage Training Center.” He also breaks out the scuba gear again in Book of Secrets.

Holy shit this led me down a massive rabbit hole into what Ben’s exact relationship with the Navy might be. More on that at a later date.

Without getting into specifics, Ben is an experienced diver. But that’s scuba diving, not high diving. The Naval Diving and Salvage Training Center is the largest diving facility in the world, and it’s possible that depending on what course(s) Ben was enrolled in, he learned jumping-from-height techniques. He doesn’t strike me as a parachuting-from-a-helicopter kind of guy, especially because that likely wouldn’t be necessary for the kind of salvage he was interested in. I’d venture that is more for rescue missions—which is under the purview of multiple military diving regiments trained at NDSTC—but probably not where Ben’s focus was, given that the Charlotte was already long-sunken.

He clearly gets his body into a pencil position before hitting the water, and just the fact the he has the wherewithal to do that while jumping from an aircraft carrier suggests that he has some experience related to this. BUT, that doesn’t mean he’s actually prepared to do what he does.

Still, he surfaces in New Jersey in one piece. When Ian says a “No broken bones? A jump like that could kill a man,” Ben’s response is to play it off. “No, it was cool. You should try it sometime.” That doesn’t mean he wasn’t taking a huge risk in doing it, but he clearly came out of the jump without significant injury. He’s also able to change, meet Ian, and lead the expedition into the catacombs without any visible signs of pain. So while I imagine the jump didn’t feel as “cool” as Ben claims, he doesn’t seem to be hurt. Sore, almost certainly, but whose to say where the soreness from the jump ends and from any of the other adventuring begins?

And last, of course, we have the Trinity Church staircase sequence. Ben ends up hanging on for his life three different times during the stair collapse, first with Abigail trying to pull him up, then holding her up before dropping her on the nearby platform, and finally hanging onto the last board after the elevator breaks in half.

As with the Intrepid he doesn’t seem to be injured, but at this point his body has to hurt. He might not realize it in the moment—or even after the moment, what with his entire life’s goal evaporating and then materializing before his eyes and all—but holding his grip that intensely had to have stressed most of the muscles in his hands and arms. And although he doesn’t bring it up like Riley does, I wouldn’t be surprised if he came away from that with a palm full of splinters. Then he immediately had to hold himself up on a 200-year-old natural fiber rope, which can't be a pleasant sensation even without everything else going on.

So I imagine when all is said and done he’s plenty sore, with bruises and scratches here and there and possibly some minor scrapes, splinters, or even rope burns on his hands.

Abigail

And now to the main event. As you point out in your question, Abigail seems to come away from the adventure worst of the three of them. She’s the only one who appears visibly in pain after one of the action sequences is over.

As you state, in each of the three major action sequences—the catering truck, Independence Hall, and Trinity Church—Abigail take a bit of a beating, and she takes it in the same place: her shoulders.

Let’s go through them one by one.

Catering truck. When she opens the door of the catering truck, she’s immediately flung out and whips almost all the way around the doors. That has to hurt her arms, shoulders, and torso; her body was not prepared to move like that. She holds on with both hands, swings out on her left arm only, then finds her grip again with the (fake) Declaration in her right hand. First she reaches out to Ben with her free left hand, and then does so again after the door swings back and Ian takes the document from her, leaving her right hand holding onto the door. When Ben pulls her into the van, she lands pretty hard on her back.

That had to hurt.

Not immediately. Not the kind of searing pain that can’t be ignored, but the kind that creeps up on you. The kind the stiffens up and settles in muscles you'd never even noticed were there.

Ben repeatedly asks Abigail if she’s alright and she never really answers whether she’s physically hurt. She thinks she’s lost the Declaration of Independence to a truck full of armed lunatics, and that is all she can focus on.

“Yeah well I’m not alright! Those men have the Declaration!”

At Patrick’s house, she keeps her arms crossed over her body most of the time. This is probably a function of being in an incredibly awkward situation—semi-kidnapped and now meeting your accidental kidnapper/intentional document thief/future love interest’s dad, who insulted you at the door??—but you could additionally read this as experiencing some soreness in her arms and shoulders.

When she goes to test for the cypher, her hands seem as steady as could be expected in such a situation, and once the masonic symbol is revealed, she goes all-in on helping Ben reveal and record the rest. So she can’t be in too much pain. Plus, like in the van, the safety of the Declaration and the thrill of cypher have all her attention.

I imagine that it’s when they get on the road to Philadelphia that she really starts to notice what hurts. As she sits in the car her muscles stiffen up, and there’s much less to take her attention from the pain. Not to mention she’s now willingly on the run from the FBI, with these two weird guys she just met, in a dress she probably wanted to be out of hours ago, in the middle of the night, while having plenty of quiet time to reckon with the fact that she just put lemon juice all over the Declaration of Independence and almost certainly will not have a job when she gets home. The physical discomfort only adds to it all.

I’m not convinced she’d even attempt to sleep in such a situation—Riley, sure, but that’d be a lot of trust for Abigail to be showing toward these guys at this point—but even if she did, she might not be able to get comfortable. No matter how she might twist in the seat, her neck or her shoulder or one of her sides would hurt.

Philadelphia. When Abigail is knocked into the road during foot chase in Philadelphia, she lands on her back and right shoulder, and when Riley pulls her out of the path of the truck, she again lands on her right shoulder. While these don’t look like particularly hard falls in and of themselves, after swinging from the catering truck and then having twelve-ish hours for that soreness to build, yeah, those fall probably hurt.

She may also have some raspberries on her hands or knees from when she fell. Again though, Abigail is so focused on the Declaration and almost dying for it, again that it doesn’t even seem to register with her.

Trinity Church. Finally we have the Trinity Church staircase sequence. First she helps pull Ben up from where he falls, and then she hangs from the elevator. She’s holding onto Ben with her right hand, and when he drops her on the platform she falls and lands more on her back and left shoulder. It’s this left arm that she’s clutching even while Ben is still dangling over the pit.

She takes her hand away when she yells, “Hang on!” but immediately puts it back again, which suggests to me that she’s in quite a bit of pain. In the previous instances she’s been so focused on the danger to both herself and the Declaration that she doesn’t acknowledge she’s just been through something that probably hurt. Now, even with both Ben and the Declaration moments away from falling to their doom, she is reflexively holding her shoulder. She’s even still holding it when she runs up to Ben after he swings to safety on the rope.

Maybe if the adventure hadn’t been so rough on her shoulder already this wouldn’t have been such a painful hit, but in any case it’s clearly not something she can ignore.

There’s this little moment that I had never noticed before when Ben’s trying to convince Ian to turn back where Abigail puts her hands on the railing in front of her and noticeably wiggles that left shoulder, as if she can’t quite get it comfortable or is checking to see how bad the damage is.

It’s not broken or anything like that: she’s clearly using both her arms when they discover the treasure, even holding her torch with that left hand at one point. And in the three months later flash-forward she’s holding Ben’s hand with her left and pressing up against him with her left shoulder, so she’s fully healed by then.

Headcanon time

My personal headcanon is likewise that her shoulder is pretty banged up. I imagine that when Abigail takes that jacket off (or when an EMT does, because I’m assuming there’s an ambulance somewhere in with the 300 police cars and FBI vehicles that must have descend on Trinity Church after Ben’s call) she’ll find a nasty bruise. The kind that’s instantly purple and only seems to get worse. The kind that lasts for weeks and turns all sorts of sickly greens and yellows as it's healing.

I imagine that when Abigail’s sitting watching Ben talk to Sadusky, all the pain and stiffness she’s been pushing out of her mind comes creeping back on her. Aching soreness in her back, her shoulders, her neck. And that left arm hurts. The longer she sits there, the more she realizes just how much it does.

I especially like to think that the paramedics give her a sling that she’ll have to wear for a few days. There’s not much they can do besides immobilize her shoulder and let it heal. I don’t imagine she needs any kind of dramatic treatment like surgery, but maybe some physical therapy when she gets home if you’re so inclined.

What I like about the sling is that it’s highly visual, and Ben would already be on his way to Boston by the time she gets it. So while Riley is probably there to see how bruised Abigail’s arm is, Ben gets to be surprised when he sees her the next day. I also headcanon they have to stay in NYC for a few days being debriefed by the FBI. And he gets to feel terrible because he’s the one who dragged Abigail into all this, however inadvertently, and yet she’s the one who ends up hurt.

That sweet, sweet angst, you know?

So in addition to the incidental scrapes, Abigail has a wicked bruise on her left shoulder, and possibly others on her back and right arm. Depending on how severely she wrenched her muscles in the catering truck or staircase sequences, she might have some longer-term pain as well. It's possible that those shoulders will never be quite right again, and sitting poorly at her computer or spending long hours hunched over in the preservation room might cause it to flair up again. And given her job, she may have chronic neck, shoulder, or back pain already.

Conclusion

In conclusion, this adventure hurt. Abigail may have sustained the only semi-serious injury, but the guys will be feeling this tomorrow as well.

Running. Jumping. Falling. Holding on for dear life.

Sore muscles. Scrapes. Cuts. Bruises. Scratches.

Remember, they’re nerds. Ben has to have a certain level of fitness to do all that diving, but all three of them are fundamentally nerds. Riley sits as a computer all day, Abigail sits behind a desk, and this particular week in his life to the contrary, Ben Gates probably spends most of his time looking at books, maps, archival records, etc.

Not to mention they’ve been awake for like 24 hours now with unknown amounts of food and water and probably all have massive headaches.

Prescription: Ibuprofen all around.

Well, that's all from me for now. Thanks so much for your question! Feel free to send another any time.

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Crown Princes and Butterfly Wings (6/?)

Chapter 5 : Dark Forest

—-

Roman becomes a wingman and our trio battles their way through the wild forest of Teine. What will happen, though, when they finally come across the dragon they were warned about?

<- Previous | First | Next ->

@cutebisexualmess :)

—-

I finished this chapter literally this morning.

To be fair I only had about a hundred words left to write though so it wasn't a struggle, but still.

I also already have half of the next chapter written because I wrote it whilst writing chapter 2, so, there's that.

Happy reading!

----

The journey really did take a long time. Logan hadn’t been exaggerating when he said it would take two weeks to make it to the city.

It was only a week and a half into the journey when Roman got tired of watching Logan be obtusely oblivious to Patton’s subtle attempts at flirting. Frankly it was embarrassing to watch and he could understand that Patton might be upset by Logan seemingly ignoring every advance. And not to mention it was extremely frustrating for everyone involved. 

In the end, Roman decided that he needed to take matters into his own hands or this would just continue to become more and more frustrating as time went on. He believed he might actually explode if this gets worse.

Thankfully, the opportunity to talk to Patton alone had arisen just the next day.

—-

“We are nearly out of food,” Logan told them after they had eaten breakfast together in their camp. 

“Ah, shoot,” Patton said, “And the nearest town was back the way we came, too.”

“And there isn’t another town until Brindleswan now,” Logan said with a sigh, “We will have to go back.”

“Wouldn’t that be a waste of time? It’s a few hours trip back to the town and we’d just be looping around on ourselves,” Roman said, raising an eyebrow at the other two. Logan paused, before sighing.

“I can move faster than both of you, if I go alone I can be back with food before noon.” Logan told them, indicating once again his powerful legs, “You both can stay here and watch over the camp until I get back.”

“Can do!” Patton grinned, saluting. 

“We’ll take care of it,” Roman nodded, before winking at Logan, “I’ll look after Patton.”

Logan went purple, but quickly turned away with a nod, picking up one of their packs and the map before turning back to them. Roman smirked, yes, Logan was definitely smitten. 

“If I am not back by mid-afternoon, you can assume something most likely happened to me,” Logan told them, “However I am able to handle myself, neither of you should worry for my safety.”

“Just hurry up and get going,” Roman waved him off, “Don’t worry about us, we’ll be fine, and right here when you get back.”

Patton nodded with a smile, waving Logan goodbye as he walked out of the camp. Roman really wasn’t worried about Logan. His best friend could handle himself perfectly well. Not only had they both received training in physical combat (although Logan’s was only base level, he could still handle himself in a fight) But Logan also knew at least ten different spells for knocking an opponent off of their feet and at least three for tying them up without even needing to go near them. He would be fine.

Now was the perfect time for Roman to talk to Patton. Logan would be gone for a good few hours, meaning that the Prince had the perfect amount of time to give Patton the crash course on wooing dense tieflings. 

“So, Patton,” Roman said, standing up and turning to face his new friend. Patton looked up at him with his head tilted slightly to the side. 

“Yes?” He asked, sounding slightly alarmed. Roman softened, right, this wasn’t an interrogation. 

“I’ve noticed you’ve been trying to make advances towards Logan,” Roman commented, sitting down next to his friend, Patton suddenly looked even more alarmed, oops, “I was just wondering if you’d accept some friendly advice from someone who’s known him twenty years.”

“Wait- you don’t- mind?” Patton asked, blinking at Roman like he was talking gibberish.

Roman shrugged, “Of course not, Logan’s my friend and I’d like to see him happy, why would I mind?”

“Well I just…” Patton suddenly looked a little sheepish, “It’s- a little silly, really.”

“Well what is it?” Roman asked, “If only so I can clear up whatever issue this might be.”

“It really is silly,” Patton shook his head, “I just started thinking- well Logan’s so obviously out of my league in every way and you’re up there with him so I just kind of thought you wouldn’t approve of me and Logan wouldn’t like me like that because I’m way lower class than both of you and even disregarding that I don't have magic and I can't fight and it's not even-”

Patton started talking so quickly that Roman thought he may get whiplash trying to keep up, eventually he just reached out and put a hand on Patton’s arm in an attempt to slow him down.

“Patton, let me assure you with absolute certainty that Logan will not deem you unworthy or lesser than him, it’s just- not how he thinks,” Roman tried to explain, “He sort of- just- stuff that doesn’t really make sense, like social class, it all just goes straight over his head. And I really couldn’t care less, so long as you’re both happy.”

“You- really?” Patton asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not that he’s insensitive,” Roman quickly amended, “He just- doesn’t see the merit of seeing someone as lesser value based on how much gold or magic they have. He won’t judge you for that.”

Patton nodded, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, “Alright- so- if you’re ok with this, then… what’s the advice?”

“Mostly just not to be downhearted when he doesn’t acknowledge your attempts,” Roman shrugged, Patton sighed, “I’ve noticed, but Logan can be dense as a brick sometimes and wouldn’t know flirting if it struck him upside the head.” 

“I… see,” Patton nodded, “What do I do, then?”

“Well if you’re up for talking to him,” Roman said, “I’m certain he would be open to the idea, but I doubt he’ll make the first move and subtlety really isn’t something he’s good with.”

Roman laughed as Patton visibly paled, “I’m not- I’m definitely not ready to confess to him- not- not yet!”

“That’s alright,” Roman said, patting Patton’s arm with a small smile on his face, “You’ve only known each other a few weeks, after all.”

“I- yeah- I think it’s a little too soon for a relationship,” Patton laughed, shaking his head.

“Perhaps,” Roman nodded, “I will continue to attempt to nudge him in the right direction for you, though.”

“Thanks, Roman,” Patton said, “I appreciate that.”

“You’re welcome, now, I have some more tips, for starters-”

—--

All the way from that point to Brindleswan on the last few days of their journey, Patton kept glancing back at Roman every time Logan brushed off his flirting attempts or said something by accident that made Patton flush particularly red. Roman attempted to return the glances with a supportive smile and sometimes even a thumbs up. He felt a little like he’d been upgraded from third wheel to wingman. Which… was a lot nicer. 

The arrival to Brindleswan itself had been incredibly peaceful. The rolling hills of farmland stretched far from the city itself. It took them almost an entire afternoon to make it from the edge of the fields to the city itself. They had passed fields full of wheat and corn and vegetables planted in the grounds, orchards filled with trees teeming with fruit and wildlife alike. Roman was familiar with this city, despite having never been here in person. 

He’d learned a lot about the city during one of Remus’ lessons. It wasn’t the richest, nor the most beautiful. It wasn’t even in the best location- being right near the wild border- but it was incredibly important to Dalandaire. Brindleswan exported the vast majority of the crops that went to go towards feeding the noble class as well as a large portion of their foreign food imports too. 

They found the nearest inn, all of them glad to sleep in a proper bed after a long while of sleeping on the road to conserve gold. Roman had suggested it, to ready them for the- potentially treacherous- next stretch of the journey. He was nervous, sure, but half of his nerves were excited, he was going to rescue a Prince, a real fairytale! And he was part of it. His companions, however, weren’t nearly as enthusiastic.

“You two really don’t need to come,” Roman told them, looking between Patton and Logan. Patton had been antsy for the whole of last evening and even moreso now as they were about to set off, Logan too had been quieter and more reserved than usual, “I know neither of you really want to be doing this, and I’m happy to go alone-”

“No,” Logan cut him off, “I have a duty to protect you, it would be a blatant disregard of said duty if I were to let you walk off into Teine alone, even if it wasn’t towards a potentially angry dragon.”

“Yeah- uh- I’d rather not actually face the dragon, but, um, we’re friends, and friends accompany each other on stupid quests that are potentially going to get us killed,” Patton said, “Right?”

Logan raised an eyebrow.

“And- well if you’re both going I’d rather not be left here on my own worrying about you both until you get back…” Patton trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck, “At least if I’m with you two I can be sure you’re okay, right?”

“Right,” Logan nodded, “I believe not splitting up will be the best solution, even if it may laed us all to our deaths.”

“It won’t,” Roman said, pulling all the confidence he had into those two words, “I- have a good feeling about this.”

—-

The forest of Teine was as overgrown as it was old. Which was to say very. 

Rumours and stories said that strange creatures lived in these woods. Non-sentient things, potentially very dangerous things.

Within only twenty minutes Roman had found himself having to cast the summoning spell he used to have his silver imbued longsword form in his hands- and not even to fight anything! He instead used his sword to slash through hanging curtains of greenery and chop back branches to carve them a path. 

The forest was near uninhabitable, that’s what people said, and Roman was starting to see why.

When they had finally found a clearing big enough for them to set up camp for the night, Logan took extra care with the concealment spell, adding a barrier on top of it. None of them said it, but all three of them were nervous. As they tried to sleep Roman could feel pairs of eyes on him, which was stupid, right? Because Logan had made them invisible to anything outside. But still Roman found he could only manage a few hours of sleep, and he’d been restless all night. 

By the third day they were all tired. Logan had quietly offered to carry Patton for an hour or so so that he might be able to get some sleep. Anyone could see that Patton was doing far worse than he or Logan were, after all. He’d gotten even less sleep than Roman had. After Patton had tripped on a hidden root and would have eaten dirt had Logan not caught him he’d taken Logan up on the offer and Roman was glad to see him get an hour or so’s worth of sleep on Logan's back. 

It had taken getting lost three times and almost a week's journey before they started seeing signs of something.

Before this point, they had occasionally had to fight off a couple of monsters. Nothing Roman couldn’t handle, especially with Logan’s help. They hadn’t ended up overwhelmed with enemies at a single point, but there had been a steady flow. They’d encounter one thing after another and take it down.

Now there was nothing.

As they continued towards the middle of the forest the lack of monsters wasn’t noticed immediately. 

It was only when Patton quietly pointed out that there didn't seem to be any animals around here whatsoever did they start to get worried.

He was right, of course. Roman hadn’t noticed, but now that he listened he realised he couldn’t hear a single bird’s chirp, nor the hum of an insect or the scuffling of some small animal in the brush. 

Even the leaves rustling in the wind were quiet, as if in an attempt to not interrupt the silence. 

“I think we’re getting close,” Logan murmured, so quiet but somehow deafeningly loud in the silence. The other two didn't speak in return, just nodded and continued walking.

Next they noticed the trees beginning to thin rapidly. 

Over only an hour of walking they went from needing to climb and slash their way through the undergrowth to being able to walk easily between the trees, Roman's sword becoming useless at this point. Yet he wasn't prepared to send it back to the pocket dimension he could summon it from just yet. Something told him to keep hold of it for now.

Somehow, without even noticing it, they walked straight out of the treeline. Immediately Logan had dragged them back, shushing them when Patton started to talk. 

When they actually looked, they realised that yes, the trees had completely disappeared in a wide circle. Roman's eyes widened when he saw what was at its centre.

A tower pierced the sky, tall and looming. Its sweeping round roof touches the clouds far above the highest tree. Roman briefly wondered how they hadn't seen it before. 

At first he thought there was a structure at the bottom of the tower, a large mass of buildings in odd shapes. When he looked again, he realised that the mass was breathing.

 "That's…." Roman mumbled, trailing off with wide eyes.

"The dragon?" Logan nodded, "I do believe so."

"Oh gee uh-" Patton whispered, "So- what now? That dragon is uh… pretty firmly wrapped around the tower."

"It would be difficult to sneak past it, I believe," Logan nodded.

Roman nodded, taking a deep breath and gripping his sword even tighter than before, "I'm going to go in." 

"Wait-!" Patton yelped, "What about- you don't have a plan!" 

"It looks to be sleeping," Roman shrugged. "I'm sure I could just- walk past." 

Logan narrowed his eyes.

"Somehow I highly doubt that," Logan sighed, "How about we remain here to provide backup if you so need it?" 

"And we can wait until it starts getting dark so you'd blend in a little better with the sunset!" Patton added, "We'll only have to wait an hour or two…"

Roman sighed, looking longingly at the top of the tower, he could see a balcony that wrapped all the way around, a pair of large wooden doors- closed, of course. He wanted to go now, but maybe it would be best to wait…

—-

They had set up a camp, near the edge of the clearing. They hadn't lit a fire out of fear that it would catch the Dragon's attention but they had built a fire pit for when Roman got back.

Finally, as the sun began to sink and the world was bathed in orange, Roman left the camp and headed, sword in hand, and headed for the tower.

The ground between the treeline and the tower crunched beneath his feet. When he actually looked down he could see that where there was grass, it was dead and dry, yellow like straw. Where there wasn't grass..  The ground was scorched and black. 

Roman shivered, looking back at where Patton and Logan hid behind the trees. Wnen he looked back though, he noticed that some of the trees, while still alive, were scorched on the side facing him, leaves and branches burned off. Quickly he turned back to face the tower, he took a deep breath, then another, and started forward. 

He could do this.

Unfortunately, Roman wasn't lucky enough to sneak by the dragon unnoticed. Almost as soon as he'd stepped further out into the open her giant amber eyes slid open. She watched him as he took a few more steps forward and once he'd reached a suitable distance she stood.

His first thought was that she was the most beautiful creature Roman had ever seen. 

His second was that, oh no, the dragon was staring at him, eyes unblinking, and he wondered for a long moment if he was going to die here.

----

<- Previous | First | Next ->

[10blue10]

The Evolution of Dragons Pt 3

Okay let’s be honest, I was gonna make this third part regardless of who was interested. Because I find it fascinating, and that’s what matters! So this third part will be about the evolution of intelligence and sapience in dragons. With some help from my partner-in-crime @arourallisreborn again XD.

Sapience is defined as ‘possessing or being able to possess wisdom’. Okay, so what counts as wisdom? Cambridge dictionary defines it as ‘the ability to use your knowledge and experience to make good decisions and judgments.’ Then again, humans are sapient and I wouldn’t say we use our knowledge and experience to make *good* decisions, at least not all the time. But oh well.

To make things more clear, sapience is about reason. Can dragons reason?

There’s plenty of evidence that they can. Over the course of the shows, for instance, we get several moments of the riders dragons solving problems of their own accord without being trained or instructed to do so. For example:

The other dragons rescuing Hiccup and Toothless from the Outcasts.

Barf-and-Belch knocking over the Eruptodon statue to stop the lava.

Barf-and-Belch saving Hiccup from the hunters to repay a life debt.

Meatlug calling to other Gronckles to help feed the real Eruptodon.

Toothless deciding to knock a dragon proofed ballista off a cliff instead.

Stormfly rescuing Garff from the Slitherwings.

Hookfang deciding to help protect the female Nightmare’s eggs.

So how would the dragons have evolved this level of intelligence? Let’s use this video on intelligence by Kurzgesagt as a baseline for dragon intelligence.

https://youtu.be/ck4RGeoHFko

The Intelligence Toolkit

Basic Tools

Information: even the ancestors of dragons had senses that allowed them to gather information about their surroundings and the state of their own bodies.

Memory: early dragons could probably remember stuff like how to avoid predators, where to find food etc. It’s likely that they would have lived in flocks for safety in numbers, so they would also need to remember their flock mates.

Learning: when dragons evolved the ability to fly, their young would still need to learn this new skill through repeated attempts until they mastered it. The same goes for their breath weapons, which they’d need to learn to control.

In fact, as arourallis put it, flying itself takes a lot of brainpower, and so does socialisation. The same would apply to swimming. Moving in three dimensions (whether in the sky or the ocean) requires spatial awareness, especially if the dragon is manoeuvring past obstacles like trees/sea stacks. Socialisation involves, well, social skills. All of this would be part of their Library of Knowledge - the collective memories and learning of an individual dragon.

As for dragons who feed on other dragons, there’s no way of telling what, if any, rationalisations they might have. My personal theory is that because these dragons are either solitary (Death Songs) or live in single-species packs (Changewings), hunting other species for food is instinctive but they might be ‘rationalising’ it as an in-group vs out-group divide. In other words, dragons that are weaker and not part of Their pack are fair game to be hunted.

I’m gonna wrap it up here because I don’t have much left to say lol. It’s harder to investigate the evolution of intelligence in dragons since we don’t even fully understand how it evolved in humans, let alone other non-human animals.

Huge thanks to everyone who’s liked and reblogged the posts in this series!

[liciatalks]

Raw Notes Dump - Halo

I have this in my notes app, and just need to dump it.

+---+---+---+---+

Halo Silver Timeline

Thoughts on Silver Timeline

- John 117-

These are two Different John's.

To keep things simple Core Canon John will be CC-John and Silver Timeline John will be ST-John

• Average Spartan vs Chosen One •

I know when you think of John you wouldn't think average Spartan. He's The Master Chief.

But that's just what CC-John is.

He even says it his self in the books. Pointing out the many achievements of the other Spartans over his own.

CC-John was never the best Spartan, just the best leader. The other Spartans, UNSC soldiers, looked up and trusted him because he earned that level of respect.

ST-John is made out to be the best Spartan, the Chosen One.

The ST (Silver Timeline) really goes out of it's way to just tell us that he's THE Master Chief and that's why people trust him. That at even a young age he was Chosen through finding a piece of the Artifact.

Now CC-John did amazing thing. Saving the universe a few times. But he didn't do those things because he was the best one for the job, but more because he was the only one left to do the job.

The choice to make ST-John great from the beginning might be the series writers trying to show a great man, break, to be reborn greater. Show ST-John always making the right choice, walking the right path, only for it to be ripped away with the ugly truth.

But there's something to CC-John's journey. This man has stumbled, made mistakes and has learn hard lessons, but he always get back up. Either by pushing his self or his team picking him up.

• Stotic by Training, Stotic by Force •

CC-John and ST-John have had two different backgrounds.

CC-John from a young age has been the squad leader, a role that was earned, to the other Spartan's. Leaders lead by example. So he tends to hold in his anxiety or concerns about situations.

This also made it where if he disagreed with what someone was doing he voiced it in a calm but firm tone.

(Like a dad saying he's disappointed in you)

We don't really see CC-John get angry, which could just be he sees no point in it. Getting angry isn't going to solve anything, might do more harm than good, and a leader shouldn't lead that way.

This isn't too say CC-John doesn't get angry, inner John has been pissed, on several occasions.

We do ST-John a little in his younger years. 6 year old ST-John bring strong

• Born a Hero •

A moment that stuck out to me between the two John's was in their childhood.

With ST-John we are shown that even at a early age he was a brave hero, catching a falling kid and pulling them up to safety.

(doing a thing that children really shouldn't have been doing like WTF)

Telling the audience that once a hero always an hero.

CC-John wasn't like that. When you first meet a young John he's very egocentric, like most children are. He wanted to be the King of the Hill in the playground. When he was kidnapped for the Spartan program the first day he stole food from another kid. He was a little shit.

But he also learn a lesson.

The CC-BB Spartan II were split of into teams of three and tasked to ring a bell at the end of an obstacle course. Winners got dinner.

CC-John blasted through to be first, but lost. His team members came in last.

Mendez, their instructor, informs him. “Remember this: you don’t win unless your team wins. One person winning at the expense of the group means that you lose."

Of course CC-John is six, so doesn't understand at first but the next time the run the course he works with his team. They weren't first, but he did earn him friends.

CC-John became a hero. ST-John was born a hero.

+---+---+---+---+

This was all just rough notes from the time the series first dropped. I need to dump them here so hopefully it motivates me to complete my rambling about the two Johns.

[saipharmacycollege]

Understanding Drug Interactions: A Quick Guide

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[traindaly]

The Ultimate Open Water Swimming Checklist: Your Guide to a Successful Swim

Open water swimming events offer a unique and exhilarating experience, vastly different from pool swimming. Whether you’re preparing for a race or a leisurely swim, having a comprehensive checklist can enhance safety and enjoyment. Here’s an essential guide covering everything from entries to wildlife encounters.

**1. Starts: Beach, In-Water, Dive**

The start of an open water swim can vary depending on the event and location:

**Beach Starts:** Common in many races, a beach start involves running or wading into the water from shallow depths. This method may require timing your entry with wave breaks and duck diving under breakers, and a lot of jostling with other swimmers. Practicing specific race entries for your event is crucial.

**In-Water Starts:** Used in deep water races, this method requires treading water while waiting for the signal. It can be more challenging due to the lack of a stable surface. Sculling and kicking in place can act as an engine idling method for a fast reaction time and start. Training sets from the middle of the pool can help with this.

**Dive Starts:** Less common but used in certain races, divers start from a platform or dock, diving into the water to begin their swim. This method requires precision to avoid injury and ensure a smooth entry. Practicing and refining your diving technique, and ensuring a safe entry on race day, are essential.

**2. Sighting: Heads-Up Swimming, Sighting**

Effective sighting is crucial for staying on course:

**Heads-Up Swimming:** This technique involves lifting your head periodically to check your direction. While it can disrupt your stroke, it's necessary for navigation. Sighting and breathing can be done on a three-stroke rhythm. Lift your head on the first non-breath stroke for a quick snapshot, extend one arm for balance, lower your head on the second stroke, and breathe on the third stroke. Repeat as needed to stay on course without slowing down your pace.

**Sighting:** Use landmarks, buoys, boats, or other swimmers to guide your course. Practice sighting during training to improve your navigation, and fitness for the technique without losing rhythm.

**3. Supported and Unsupported Swims: Kayaker, Crew**

Support levels can vary depending on your event:

**Supported:** A support crew, such as a kayaker or boat, provides safety, navigation, and fueling. For major channel swims, support boats are often experienced sailors who help with scheduling optimal swim dates, timing currents, and navigating busy shipping channels. They act as or transport your larger crew and observers, manage boat traffic, coast guard, and border officials in international crossings. Smaller support crafts, like kayakers, provide direct observation, communication, and feedings. Note that official races and ratified crossings have rules prohibiting support vessels from physically assisting or coming into contact with the swimmer.

**Unsupported:** In some races or solo swims, you may swim without support. In such cases, it’s vital to be well-prepared with safety gear like a bright-colored float and cap for visibility. Following event directions, or research the conditions and boating traffic for unsanctioned events. Understand the swim route and check if there are checkpoints for hydration or fueling. For swims longer than an hour, consider carrying hydration or fuel in your suit or buoy if support stations are unavailable.

**4. Feeding: Treading, Floating, Feeds**

Managing nutrition and hydration requires planning:

**Treading Water and Floating:** If you need to take a break, tread water or float on your back while consuming food or drink. Practice this technique to maintain buoyancy and keep your energy up. During pool sessions that exceed an hour, start incorporating feeds without holding onto the wall or putting your feet down to minimize rest time and refine your body’s tolerance for feeds.

**Moving Feeds:** For races with organized aid stations, practice reaching for and consuming food while swimming. Efficient handoffs and timing are crucial, so training for this process can help optimize performance.

**5. Buoys and Turns: **

Efficient turning is essential for maintaining speed and direction:

**Corkscrew Turn:** This technique involves a quick, controlled spin from freestyle to backstroke and back, either clockwise or counterclockwise, depending on the course route. It's especially useful in races with multiple laps or tight turns, where competitive swimmers aim for the sharpest line around turns.

**6. Goggles and Caps: Dark and Light, Anti-Fog, Latex versus Silicone**

Selecting the right goggles impacts visibility and comfort:

**Dark vs. Light Lenses:** Dark lenses are ideal for sunny conditions to reduce glare, while light or clear lenses are better for cloudy or overcast conditions. Have a backup pair in case one breaks or gets misplaced. Get 20% off your own custom goggles from the Magic5 with code DALY20

**Anti-Fog:** Invest in goggles with anti-fog coating to maintain clear vision. Avoid rubbing the inside of the goggles; instead, rinse and air-dry them after swims. If the anti-fog coating wears away, use a small dab of No Tears baby shampoo as an alternative. Apply it to the inside of clean dry lenses, and keep them dry throughout your swim.

**Caps:** Latex caps are cheaper, thinner, and tackier. They are less warm, making them ideal for warmer events. Their tackiness helps prevent them from slipping off your head or goggle straps, though they tend to have a larger, rippled fit and may not be suitable for those sensitive to latex. In contrast, silicone caps are slightly more expensive, thicker, and warmer, offering additional warmth in colder conditions. They provide a more tailored, streamlined fit but are less tacky and can be more prone to slipping, which may cause goggle straps to slide. Swimmers should decide whether to wear their goggle straps under or over their cap. Wearing them underneath may offer a more secure fit but less flexibility for mid-event adjustments. Some swimmers use a double cap strategy: a latex cap underneath for grip, followed by goggles, and a silicone cap on top for a streamlined fit.

**7. Suit and Chafe, Grease**

Proper suit and skin care are vital for comfort and performance:

**Suit:** Ensure your suit or wetsuit fits well to reduce chafing, water-logging, and drag. Test it in practice swims to ensure comfort and refine your feel for competition suits or wetsuits.

**Chafing:** Apply anti-chafe cream to areas prone to irritation, such straps, seams,  neck, armpits, and inner thighs.

**Grease and Sunscreen:** Use combinations of lanolin, petroleum jelly, zinc oxide, and sunscreen, or specialized swim grease to prevent chafing and sunburn. These can also provide marginal warmth for cold water swims.

**8. Salt vs. Fresh Water**

Different types of water affect your swim differently:

**Salt Water:** Provides more buoyancy, which helps you stay afloat but can be more abrasive to your skin and irritating to your eyes, nose, and mouth.

**Fresh Water:** Generally less buoyant but also less irritating to the skin, eyes, nose, and mouth.

**9. Distance**

Be mindful of the distance you'll be swimming:

**Preparation:** Train specifically for the swim distance, incorporating both long and short sessions to build endurance and pace. Practice pacing to ensure you have enough energy for the entire distance.

**Pacing:** Open water swims can be unpredictable, so trust the fitness and pacing you've developed in the pool. Use perceived exertion and feel as your measures for effort and intensity, rather than relying solely on distance traveled or time in the water.

**10. Wildlife**

Encountering wildlife is part of open water swimming:

**Safety:** Be aware of local wildlife and understand how to react if you encounter them. Most wildlife will avoid swimmers, but knowing the precautions is beneficial.

**Education:** Learn about local species and any specific safety tips or protocols for the area.

**11. Weather: Water/Air Temp, Currents, Tides, Sun, Rain**

**Water/Air Temperature:** Check forecasts for both water and air temperatures and adjust your gear and training accordingly. Cold feeds and electrolytes may be more necessary in warmer conditions, while cooler swims might require warmer feeds and less hydration. The ratio of water to air temperature and whether the sun is out can greatly influence how you feel. Prepare in conditions as specific to your event as possible for optimal acclimatization.

**Currents and Tides:** Be aware of currents and tides as they affect navigation and speed. Plan your swim timing around these factors and heed information from race directions and support crews.

**Sun:** Use long-lasting, waterproof, high SPF sunscreens and consider reapplying as necessary.

**Water Quality:** Rain and high temperatures can affect water quality. Consult local data and consider updated vaccines and health precautions.

** Motion sickness** Seasickness is not just a risk for those on the boat, but can also happen to swimmers in the water, particularly on long choppy swims. Over the counter oral motion sickness medication like dramamine, or prescription patches like scolapalmine can be helpful, but its important to practice your tolerance for and the effectiveness or side affects of these medications prior to your event.

**12. Planning: Course route, safety meeting, packing**

Understanding the course is crucial for a smooth swim:

**Website Route:** Review the swim course on the event’s website. Familiarize yourself with the layout, buoys, and entry/exit points.

**Athlete Meeting:** Attend pre-race meetings to receive final instructions, understand last-minute changes, and clarify any concerns about the course or logistics

** Create a checklist and pack ahead** Create a list of essential items, and pack your swim bag ahead of time. Include back ups in the case that something breaks, you need extra, or it’s misplaced. Point to point races may include a bag check. Consider items you will need at the event finish, whether you check your bag with the event, or hand it off to friends and family.

By following this comprehensive checklist, you'll be well-prepared for a successful and enjoyable open water swimming experience. Practice and preparation are key to navigating the unique challenges of open water swimming with confidence. Need help planning and programming for your next open water swimming event? Schedule a complimentary call, or book your next coaching call now!

[bednbiscuits]

Giving the Doggie Daycare Your Dog Deserves

In this hustle culture world, we are stuck in the loop of the grind. In the meanwhile our dogs miss out on the love and care they deserve. Bed and biscuit programs are designed in such a way that they meet all your dog’s needs. In this blog, we shall give you a sneak peek into our services: Yappy Days, doggie school bus and dog training. We shall also delve into the secrets of good dog training.

At Bed and Biscuits Yappy Days, dogs can do a lot of different things, such as agility workouts, socializing, pup games, and funny things. You can pick up and drop off your dog for BD9 per day, and the service includes cleaning and the Doggie School Bus.

In the Middle East, the Doggie School Bus is the only service that lets you ride on a bus that is only for off-leash dog parks. The bus comes to your house and picks up your pet. It then takes them to the center for a day of fun and games. A trained handler watches over the buses and makes sure they have all the best safety features.

When they get to the park, dogs can use all of their abilities, such as socializing, swimming, agility, and a private room to rest and eat. Dogs often get on the bus around the end of the day, tired but excited for the next ride home.

Another important part of the service is dog training. Trainers work with both dogs and owners to keep training stable, lay the groundwork, and work on specifics by being consistent, keeping dogs motivated, and timing everything just right. Basic behavior classes start at the start of every month, and because they are so popular, you need to make a reservation ahead of time.

The Bahrain K9 Academy System of Dog Training (TMC) is a key idea in changing a dog’s behaviour, and it’s important for both family pets and advanced dog training for sports or police work. It is very important to time things right because it takes 1.3 seconds for both good and bad actions to be linked to a consequence. People deal with this problem by using voice marks to tell the dog “yes” when it does the right thing and “no” when it does something wrong.

To change your dog’s decision-making process, you need to know what motivates them. You have to do something, like marking good behavior with a YES and then giving it a prize. It’s not enough to just pet, talk to, and praise your dog to reward it. Treats, toys, and cuddles can really help. Trainees who are knowledgeable see rewards as money, and your dog needs actual rewards to work. Another important thing for clear conversation between dog and owner is consistency. It means answering right away when your dog does something important, like going to the bathroom outside or coming when you call it.

There is a straight link between how you treat your dog and how it acts. You can’t blame the dog because how your dog acts depends on how well you understand and use the three training concepts (TMC). Timing connects behaviour to results, motivation gives your dog a reason to work, and consistency builds a good mood and makes it easy to talk to your dog.

Before you decide which training plan is best for your dog, you should first do an initial behavior exam. The trainer will carefully look at your dog’s temperament, nerves, food and prey drive, stability of surroundings, and how it acts around other animals and strangers. If the results of the evaluation are good, the teacher will talk about the suggested training plan.

When dog owners need professional training for both themselves and their dogs, our most popular program is professional on-leash obedience. We used our TMC training method to divide this program into four levels. During the handover process in weeks 3 and 4, owners can learn about and use the system.

Any dog older than 6 months can take the professional off-leash training course, which has all four levels of the on-leash course plus levels 5 and 6. This course covers everything from building drives to toy reward rules and down-in-motion. It also covers proofing levels 1-4 when the dog is off-leash and levels 1–5 when there are medium to high levels of distraction.

To sum up, the most important things for successful dog training are drive, motivation, and consistency. You can help your dog have a good attitude and communicate better with its owners by learning and following these rules. Bed and biscuits can help you achieve this goal. To know more, visit the website.

[ledenews]

Ohio County Schools, Russell Nesbitt, WVDRS Establish Partnership

When three amazing programs combine, beautiful opportunities are created.  That’s exactly what is happening at Wheeling Park High School with the help of Russell Nesbitt Services and the WV Division of Rehabilitation Services, also known as DRS. Through their grouping, a unique option is now available at WPHS.  This program came to fruition when Special Education Director for Ohio County Schools, Leah Stout, worked closely with Russell Nesbitt. Russell Nesbitt notably works with adults with disabilities.  “This was a way for both parents and students to feel supported in post-secondary options after students leave Wheeling Park High School,” Stout states.  During the week, WPHS special education teachers Ashlee Kuca, Dionne Cox, and department chair Amy Rice send students on a rotating basis to a variety of courses led by Russell Nesbitt’s team through DRS.  The initial course, Instructional Self Advocacy, also known as ISA, builds soft skills. Emily Doyle, Employment Services Manager for the program states, “Students focus on understanding the differences between wants and needs, and they learn about different programs that apply to them and will support them including ADA, IDEA, and 504s.” The laws, like the Americans with Disabilities Act, ensure that people with disabilities do not face workplace discrimination. Understanding these laws is vital to employees knowing their rights.   With class sizes small enough for customization, students receive personalized information to help enable learners for successful employment after graduation. Janet Judy, speaking for DRS, adds, “ISA provides participants with information about self-awareness. We review centers for independent living, college accessibility offices, accommodations, and communication skills.” In addition to ISA, Career Exploration Opportunity, or CEO, follows.  Doyle states, “CEO is geared to get students thinking about post-high school options and leads into our work curriculum. Students focus on routines, time management, resume building, and interview skills.”  Students also focus on conflict resolution in the workplace, complete interest inventories, explore hobbies vs. jobs, and meet with a variety of guest speakers.   The final piece of this program is the Work Style Assessment. This piece covers four entry-level positions in the workplace and puts the previously learned skills into action. Students have the ability to experience hands-on-training in concessions, bakery, retail, and greenhouse work. The skills focused on include food safety, work safety, cash handling, machinery, cleaning, and customer service.  DRS is able to help these students long after graduation. Judy states, “Right now, students are in their pre-transitional plan phase. Once they graduate, we will follow each student until  they’ve reached full-time employment for as long as needed.  We can also provide job coaching, supportive employment training, and even set up tutoring and training opportunities.”  For WV students outside of this program, DRS still has many options available for assistance. Qualifying students can receive financial sponsorship, assistive technology and software, guidance with the college or post-secondary training process, and even adaptive technology.   As this cohort enters its second full year, the Special Education Department at Wheeling Park High School has noticed definitive success in each student involved.   Ashlee Kuca states, “This program is a nice bridge between what students do at Park, and what they will ultimately do for employment.”  Dionne Cox adds, “It’s increased excitement and attitude regarding attendance, and I’m also able to share these amazing moments, including their strengths and social interactions, with parents.  Being able to see their success means so much.”  Amy Rice notes the individual strength in each student: “I see them becoming more independent and more excited for the future.”   As students continue in this opportunity, they see some of their post-graduate options, but more importantly, the community sees what an asset these future workers are. “It gives our students and our community perspective on what they CAN do,” Kuca states. Read the full article

[jbcollegeharyana]

Which B Tech course is best for robotics?

Robotics is a rapidly growing field with immense potential in the future. If you're looking for a course that can help you explore and develop your skills in robotics, then the B Tech at JB Knowledge Park might be the best choice for you. Find out why in this article!

Introduction – What is Robotics?

Robotics is the technology of artificially creating and operating machines that are capable of completing tasks without human intervention. Robotics has been around for centuries, but it was not until the early 20th century that it began to be used extensively in manufacturing and other industries. Today, robotics is used in a variety of industries, including automotive manufacturing, healthcare, food and beverage production, and logistics.

Robotics offers many benefits to businesses and organizations. Robotics can help increase productivity and efficiency while reducing costs. Additionally, robotics can help improve safety by reducing the need for humans to work in dangerous or difficult environments. Robotics also offers the potential to customize products and services to meet the specific needs of customers or clients.

JB Knowledge Park offers an extensive B Tech program in robotics that can provide students with the skills and knowledge they need to succeed in this rapidly growing field. The program includes coursework in engineering, computer science, and mathematics. Additionally, students have the opportunity to participate in hands-on projects and internships with leading companies in the robotics industry.

Overview of B Tech Courses at JB Knowledge Park

JB Knowledge Park offers a variety of B Tech courses in robotics that cater to students of all levels of interest and expertise. The courses offered include an introduction to robotics, advanced robotics, and robotic engineering.

Each course is designed to give students the skills and knowledge they need to succeed in the field of robotics. The introductory course covers the basics of robot design, construction, and programming. Students will learn about the different types of robots and their capabilities. They will also learn how to operate a robot and perform basic tasks.

The advanced course builds on the concepts learned in the introductory course. Students will learn more about robot programming, sensors, and actuators. They will also learn about advanced robotic applications such as medical surgery and search and rescue missions.

The robotic engineering course provides students with the skills they need to design, build, and test their own robots. Students will learn about mechanical engineering, electrical engineering, and computer science principles. They will also put these principles into practice by building and testing their own robots.

Different Robotics Technology Options Available

1. Articulated Robots: Articulated robots are the most widely used type of industrial robot. They consist of a series of joints that allow them to move in multiple directions, making them perfect for tasks that require high degrees of flexibility and precision.

2. SCARA Robots: SCARA robots are another popular type of industrial robot, known for their high speed and accuracy. They are often used in tasks such as assembly and welding.

3. Delta Robots: Delta robots are a newer type of industrial robot that is becoming increasingly popular due to their high level of efficiency and flexibility. Delta robots typically have three arms that work independently from each other, allowing them to complete tasks quickly and accurately.

4. Mobile Robots: Mobile robots are an exciting new type of robot that is beginning to be used in a variety of industries. Mobile robots can be either ground-based or aerial, and they offer a unique combination of mobility and flexibility that traditional industrial robots cannot match.

Career Opportunities in Robotics

Robotics offers a variety of career opportunities for those with the right skills and training. As a relatively new field, robotics is growing rapidly and there is a demand for qualified professionals who can design, build, and maintain robots.

JB Knowledge Park's B Tech program in Robotics is the perfect choice for students interested in pursuing a career in this exciting field. The program provides students with the necessary skills and knowledge to succeed in the robotics industry.

Conclusion

In conclusion, a B Tech degree in Robotics from JB Knowledge Park is the perfect choice to explore the possibilities of robotics and make your foray into this ever-evolving field. With industry-oriented courses, experienced faculty and high quality lab facilities, it offers an environment that encourages students to challenge themselves and achieve their goals. We hope that our article has helped you understand why studying at JB Knowledge Park can be an ideal first step towards making a successful career in robotics.

Explore Our Courses

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