#gambols not dead but like

[crazywolf828]

My favorite thing is that the last chapter of the FF/EMT au almost every comment was more concerned about Gambol than Blake and I love y'all for that so much. You guys are great.

[cadmusfly]

A dragon without treasure is a pitiful and dangerous thing.

Dragons are hungry and voracious beasts. The larger ones, bigger than elephants, should be feasting on a herd of cattle a day; yet the civilised ones do not strip the land bare to feed their appetites. This is because they may draw their sustenance not just from meat but also the things they treasure.

The image of a dragon on a pile of gold is a stereotype for a reason, and of course it is easy for anyone to hold valuable metal and grand works of art dear to their hearts. But a dragon’s treasure need not be so grossly material. A forest that one used to gambol in as a hatchling, a town for which one feels fondness, a childish scrawl from a precious godchild, a loyal friend be they human or dragon or animal, a single tree, a polished rock, a beloved rider; anything may be treasured by a dragon as long as the dragon feels that sense of ownership.

This is mine. This is what I love, this is what I protect. Even, perhaps, this is what I hate - but not in a destructive way, no, this potential hatred would be a fond bitterness that would break one’s heart if it was to disappear.

It is greed, but it is not necessarily evil. It is selfishness, but it is not necessarily malevolent. It is gluttony, but not necessarily one of taking. Of course, a dragon may be evil, malevolent and ruinous, but so may a human.

And a dragon may dream so deeply of these treasures that as they sleep - and dragons sleep so long and soundly that they are like the dead, especially after exhaustion or wounding - that they may see through the eyes of their beloved people, that they may haunt the locations and objects as immaterial spirits, that they may know the health and well-being of what they own. They may even, if invited, act in conjunction with their treasure’s will, taking the truest gift of willing control; but this is only with the strongest of bonds or the most synchronous of emotions.

So a dragon with enough of these treasures does not need to eat so much or to sleep so much.

But a dragon without anything to care for is a hungry and voracious beast. It will not live for long; if it is not killed in its desperate attempts to hunt enough meat to fill its aching belly, then it will starve even as it gorges itself on rotting flesh. If it is injured, then it will fall into the convalescent stupor common to its kind, and only through decades or centuries of mindless dreams with no treasure to hasten the process will it regain the strength to return to insensate existence.

Perhaps it could pull itself back from that brink, but how could anybody love such a wretched thing?

How could it bring itself to love anything, after it has been forsaken for so long?

A dragon not treasured is a dangerous and piteous thing.

[kasha-formerlydrabbletastic]

Good On You, Kee

Kili x Fem!Reader x Fili

Summary: Kili is setting up traps to hunt, when he comes across something very interesting.

Word count: 1,898

Warnings: Mature readers only, 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Smutty. Voyeurism. Threesome. Cunnilingus. Fellatio. P in V sex. Masturbating. Facesitting. Possible secondhand embarrassment. 

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After cozy Hobbit holes and orcs astride snarling wargs, Kili thought that maybe - just maybe - the quest was starting to dry up. Apart from his bickering quest-mates and the occasional animal to snare, there hadn't been much action. It was quite possible that he was building the whole thing up in his mind anyway, imagining that the company would be fighting off enemies every other day and rescuing damsels and reclaiming more than just their homeland.

A young dwarf could wish, couldn't he?

He trudges through the thicket, having emptied his bladder, in search of something bigger to kill than rabbits and birds. Perhaps, should he score something with a little more meat on its bones, he could make more than just his own night far more interesting than it would've been otherwise. How much could this improve the company's morale, their moodiness?

Kili spends some time setting up traps and positioning camouflage in order to be able to see and not be seen by any game that might wander in. When he's done, he stands, admiring his work and hoping against hope that he doesn't fail this one. In his mind, he sees himself walking back into camp with a deer hoisted across his shoulders to the utter surprise of the lads, and they cheer for him, take his kill off his hands to be gutted and prepared for a spectacular dinner feast.

He smiles at the thought, though it doesn't last for long.

A noise comes from a short distance away, pulling his attention in that direction. It's not something one would hear in the woods on any normal day, he thinks, but it certainly is intriguing given how familiar the noise is; he's heard you sigh like that before, though you've never sounded so winded just walking through the woods. He moves to investigate, concern growing in his mind at the thought that you might be unwell. He tries to be quiet, however futile it might be at this point, to not scare away any kills, and as he turns around a tree, he stops dead, taking in the scene before him.

Your back is against another tree, and were your eyes open, you would be looking right at him, but as it is, your head lolls back and to the side, your lips parted in what he understands as definitely not any sickness of any kind. In fact, it looks quite like you are enjoying yourself. His eyes trail from your face, down your neck, along your heaving chest to find his brother's golden mane level with your hips, your hands buried in his hair.

Kili should turn around, he thinks, should leave this moment where it is and mind his business, but his feet are rooted to the spot, the sounds spilling from your lips hypnotizing him, making him drunk, and flowing right to his cock.

"Mahal," he whispers, his hand absent-mindedly adjusting the crotch of his trousers before he palms himself. The pressure against his budding erection feels good, even better when the image of his head between your legs floats through his mind.

Fili's hands grip your thighs as he presses his face into your heat, feasting on what must be nectar of the heavens with how his mouth moves, lapping like he would never taste anything so exquisite ever again.

He watches as your fingers grip tighter, your breaths come more rapidly. Your salacious moans peak just before they're cut off and your brow wrinkles, your mouth opening wider to accommodate the best sound Kili has ever heard; an exhalation, a cry even, dances into the air around you, gamboling directly into his ears and soaking into his blood. His fingers curl around his cock, beginning to stroke it over the fabric of his pants before he decides to take it out. He sighs almost inaudibly as his cock lands in his palm, heavy with arousal.

Fili continues in his feast as Kili starts pumping, his attention solely focused on the way his brother's mouth works on you. His own mouth waters at the thought of eating your cunt, of tasting your nectar on his tongue as you came for him.

That's when his eyes drift to your face and his heart stops; your eyes meet his over the open space between you and panic rears in his stomach. He barely decides to run for the hills as you shake your head at him.

"It's okay," you mouth. "Watch."

Kili can't believe his luck, can't believe you want him there, that you want him to see you in such a position. He almost high-tailed it back to camp with shame; voyeuristic tendencies aside, this is you, friend and fellow company member, and his brother. Certainly there was a place for him in a hellish afterlife for this.

But you bite your lip, keeping your eyes on Kili as Fili guides you into your next climax.

Only then does Fili get to his feet, but before he has the chance to turn around, you pull him in; Kili expects a kiss, but your lips brush Fili's ear, and you whisper something to him. Once more does panic rear as Fili turns to Kili, a smirk on his face.

"C'mere, Kee," he says, beckoning him forward.

Kili puts his cock away, pretending that he wasn't just masturbating to this private moment and hoping that the appendage doesn't give him away. He stumbles into the space, his cheeks aflame with embarrassment.

"Don't be shy, Kee," you say, your fingers opening the first button on your shirt. "Did you like what you saw?"

Kili glances between the two of you, wondering what trouble would land on him if he told the truth.

"You can be honest," Fili says, Kili knowing full well that Fili senses his tells.

Kili's eyes fix on your fingertips, watching as they pluck each button free, exposing the skin of your chest.

"Very much," he murmurs.

He watches as your shirt flutters open, the curve of your breast calling his name. You slip the garment off, leaving you only in the trousers around your ankles and your boots.

"Ain't she a beauty, Kee?" Fili intones, elbowing his brother. "Don't you want to give her a try yourself?"

Kili's eyes flick up, expecting to see hesitation.

"You want a taste, Kee?" you say, reaching for his hand; you pull it toward you, taking his finger and gliding it along your slick. Next, you guide it to his mouth, and he parts his lips, tonguing at the juice on his fingertip.

He groans at the taste, his eyes rolling back as he savors your flavor.

"Lay down, Kili," you order, softly.

Under your spell, he does exactly as you say, hoping his obedience will lead to more, like a pup with a treat. He gets onto his back on the forest floor, watching you pull your trousers and boots off.

You stand over Kili, staring down at him as he once more thanks his lucky stars he's allowed to be privy to such a sight; you strong legs bend to lower you down until your soaking cunt hovers over his face, the scent filling his nose as he breathes deep. His cock twitches in his trousers, simply dying to be drowned in you.

His lips brush your inner thigh, his stubble scratching the soft skin as he makes his way up. He meets your gaze, watching your expression as his tongue flicks out along your heat.

"Ah!" you gasp as it slips over your clit.

That sound alone spurs him on, and he doesn't care that his brother has been here first or that he's watching over his shoulder. No, all that matters is your gorgeous, delectable cunt and that he's the one tasting it now.

"Good, Kili," Fili says when you grind your pelvis against his mouth, eager for your release.

In response, Kili wraps his arms around your thighs, anchoring you to him as you writhe, as your pleasure escapes your lips in sighs and moans. His hunger leads him as he laps up every drop of dew you have for him. Even when Fili drops his trousers and holds his cock to your lips, you are still the most beautiful thing he's ever experienced. He watches with wonder - and envy - as you take his brother as far down as you can, humming around the member whenever Kili hits the right nerve.

Soon, your breaths come quicker, and your legs begin to twitch as Kili feasts, lapping at your clit, nourishing himself with your juices. In next to no time at all, Fili's cock slips from your mouth and you cry to the tree tops as you come, riding Kili's face until you tremble.

Fili comes, too, ejaculating onto your face and opened mouth. When he finishes, he presses a kiss to your cum-covered lips, and gently cleans you up with the a fresh handkerchief from his pocket.

Kili, on the other hand, drowns in the hormones still raging through his body, his cock about ready to burst as well. He slips out from under you and removes his jacket, placing it over your shoulders before he hoists you up; you giggle as you wrap your legs around his waist, your back at once pressing against a tree. He holds you there for a moment, fumbling with one hand to pull his cock free once more and line up with your entrance.

"Mahal!" he groans as he presses into you, lost in the grip around his cock and the way your breath hitches.

"Oh, Kili!" you gasp as he begins to thrust.

"Good on you, Kee," Fili encourages, leaning against the tree to press a kiss against your neck. "Don't forget her clit."

Keeping you steady, Kili moves a hand, pressing the pad of his thumb against your clit. He rubs in circles, timing each thrust perfectly.

"That's it," Fili says, but who it's directed at, Kili doesn't know.

He simply moves, intent on you squeezing the life out of his cock, on making you come. He can feel you dripping down his balls as he pounds into you, the sweat on your bodies mingling.

"Fuck," you whimper, squeezing your fingers into his shoulders. "Kee... I'm gonna come!"

"Do it for me," he growls. "Come on my cock."

In one, two, three thrusts you come, your muscles spasming around Kili as he chases his release. He feels his impending high, dropping the hand between your bodies and pulling out of you; he takes hold, pumping his seed onto the tree, dropping his head onto your shoulder as he grunts to his finish.

The woods are quiet in the aftermath, your evening breaths the loudest noise he can hear. He drops you gently to your feet, watching as you pick up each article of clothing you've stripped from yourself.

The three of you dress, only looking at each other once everything was on. You and Fili grin at the sheepish expression on Kili's face, and you move forward.

"Don't worry," you say, your hand coming to rest on his jaw. "It'll be easier next time."

"Next time?" he asks quickly.

You smile, turning away from him as you and Fili walk back toward camp.

"Wait," Kili says, excitedly, following along. "There's going to be a next time?"

[bestworstcase]

ahaha. ahhaahah

she is going to spend the rest of the volume ripping herself apart to not be this

also god lmao “and penny—she—jaune tried to help, but she sacrificed herself to save the power” lol. lmao. weiss says the quiet part out loud but man. “jaune tried to help”—says the girl who lunged straight at cinder fall to protect her friend, who fought so hard to try to give jaune time to save penny and nearly died herself in doing so. “penny sacrificed herself to save the power” says the girl who is alive now because of that sacrifice. it all happened so fast. nobody came back from vacuo to help. jaune tried to help, but—weiss wasn’t good enough, and no one else was there. god. weiss sweetheart her blood is not on your hands.

“you weren’t supposed to be here”/“if you thought we wouldn’t come for you” ruby rose master of spin but also like yang straight up woke up in wonderland and concluded she was dead and the one thing she had left to hold on to was that at least she died saving her baby sister. at least it was her and not the others. and then they’re THERE and all she sees is my sister is dead until ruby makes it sound like they came here on purpose. to find her. if they came to rescue her then they can’t be dead and maybe she isn’t either lmao god. yang has been here five minutes and already gone on a whole emotional roller coaster while RWB got lost on the beach.

also she rly went welp i’m dead and a raccoon stole my arm so i’m gonna uno reverse the jabberwock about it, how do you like THESE eyes of flame you fucker. which is like the most yang thing she could possibly do lmfao. you think she’s traumatized? could a traumatized person do THIS? *chases a monster until she’s so exhausted she can barely stand* girl literally does not know what to do with herself if she’s not taking care of somebody else so she just goes apeshit on the most dangerous-looking thing in the vicinity because that’s WHO SHE IS, isn’t it, that’s what makes her special, every time something knocks her down she picks herself up and punches it back twice as hard, except it’s not working anymore. this time the monster runs away and yang runs herself into the ground clinging to this empty pantomime. “i said i wasn’t done with you yet!”—she sounds so strong—like the one liner, the rock to the back of the head, it’s a pitch perfect heroic entrance and then

babygirl you are serving yourself to the monsters on a silver platter again.

anyway

hysterical that blake just fucking body slams her. local bisexual gets in touch with her inner freight train. love is stored in the broken ribs

blake is also shaping up to be the one who lands on her feet and i am really intrigued by how strongly the ever after responds to her decisiveness; “i think we focus on getting everything back, then we can figure out how to get out of here” and the sunlight breaks through the clouds as the rain that answers ruby’s misery stops. it’s interesting because it positions blake pretty blatantly as a direct inversion of ruby, emotionally, in this moment, and the contrast being underlined here is specifically ruby’s overwhelming, paralytic despair vs blake’s clear-eyed focus on the what’s immediately in front of them. RWY are getting sucked into this vortex of anxiety about what happened after they fell but blake really hits the ground running. right out of the gate, she found weiss and immediately settled on a clear, achievable objective (find gambol shroud by piecing together its probable location based on when it fell in relation to herself and weiss and where they landed), already thinking ahead to what their next step should be after that (find yang and ruby) and trying to piece together what exactly this place is. she’s able to take a deep breath and shelve her feelings about the things she doesn’t know and can’t control in order to break her and her team’s current situation down into small, manageable steps even though she’s just as scared, confused, and upset as they are—

which 1. god she’s grown SO MUCH since the fall of beacon, and 2. what we’re looking at here is, i think, the first open salvo against the huntsman ethos. blake recognizes intuitively that their first priority right now is themselves. they’re not huntresses down here. they’re not the noble defenders of mankind; whatever the situation in vacuo is, it is wholly and completely out of their control and there’s nothing they can do to change that. so she’s putting it down. and as she lets that burden fall off her shoulders the sunlight pours through the clouds to show her the way forward.

[jiubilant]

sending you 30) harsh whisper for bet :)

30. harsh whisper

The last time Bet sees her lover run, he’s chasing her coupé as it rattles out the chateau gates. The handsome carriage-dogs, bred to gambol with the horses and bite highwaymen, are at his throat in seconds; down he goes, waving her least-favorite reticule like an embroidered flag of truce. She thinks they’ve killed him until she sees their tails wagging.

“Swef!” she cries out the window at the beasts, shaking off her rugs. Laughter and the sudden, shocking cold shake her from head to foot. “Swef! Acco,” she calls to her driver, “would you stop, please?”

Acco grumbles something Colovian and cross, and the coupé swerves to a halt. It would be crass, Bet reminds herself, to climb out to greet her husband’s clerk. It would feed the harsh whispers that already follow them through banquets and salons. Instead she presses the back of her hand to her mouth, shaking with silent mirth, and opens her window for him.

“Did you see that?” he asks, peering in: mud-spattered, soggy with snowmelt, his hair straggling from its tail every which way. His face, wry and smiling, flushes more purple than red in the damp Alcairish cold. “Say you didn’t.”

Bet is unmerciful. “You left a perfect impression in the snow.”

“As the brawlers say,” says the clerk quite seriously, “I’ve been licked. Where, ah”—he ducks his head to catch his breath—“where are you bound, madame? Is it far?”

“An hour’s drive—”

“Here, then,” says the clerk, and thrusts up a foot-warmer: a silver ember-brazier from the carriage-house, hot as a live thing, muffled in a rug. “And your maid threatened to box my ears if I didn’t catch you”—he dangles the reticule from finger and thumb, like something dead and disgusting—“and give you this.”

Her maid knows her antipathy for that reticule, Bet thinks. It doesn’t even match her mantle. But no one looks askance at a man in clerk’s livery rushing about on an errand—as one might look askance, she thinks, at a man in clerk’s livery rushing about to see that her feet stay warm.

“It’s all wet, now,” she says with a rush of unwise affection, looking dubiously at the thing. The dogs have improved it by chewing off the tassels. “Go and get your ears boxed—no,” she says, suppressing a smile, “give it to me.”

He raises his eyebrows, but obeys. In comes his hand. In the privacy of the coupé, she touches her lips to his cold palm.

[send me a number, and i’ll write a microfic using the word or phrase!]

[masterqwertster]

54-kidnapping. For the guy in a situation prompts. With a focus on Ashton. Could you please continue on from the presumed dead prompt you recently did? I really liked that one. Bells Hells would never let someone take their punk rock.

Continuing this prompt answer

Ashton is tending a field, a garden. Small animal-shaped eidolons gambol along in his wake, occasionally helping at his direction. Everything is green and growing and beautiful. He breathes in fresh air, appreciating the place he's carved out for himself in the world.

It’s so fucking peaceful.

–e u– –hton.

There's a sound on the breeze. Words they can’t quite make out.

Wa– up, –on.

Ashton quiets his small companions, trying to make out the message on the wind.

WAKE UP, ASHTON!

___

Ashton gasps awake.

Fucking fuck. He hates it when his stupid vivid dreams show him the nice shit he can never have.

Not that there’s really time to be upset about the random shit his brain throws at him. Imogen wouldn't poke into his head like that without a good reason.

Which is about the time it registers that this is not where they remember going to sleep. Because they sure as fuck hadn’t been chained up in a crate before they went to sleep.

So Ashton does the obvious thing: he rages and does his best to break the chains. Or crate. Whichever comes first.

The chains, unfortunately, are well-done. Even their raging strength isn't enough to make up for the lack of leverage from having their arms thoroughly pinned to their sides and legs bound together.

They are not, however, enough to restrain Ashton’s thrashing to a level that won’t break the crate. And wood splinters as Ashton’s feet and head slam into the planks.

The thing is, Ashton hadn’t really thought this through. Breaking the crate can get him out of it, but it doesn’t change that his ability to move is restricted to inchworming around because of the chains. Which means running or fighting is–

“Fucking hell! That should have been enough to keep a half-giant out for a whole day!”

–near impossible. Especially when his captors are still around.

Magic wraps around their body, stopping even what struggles Ashton can make chained up as they are. Someone opens the crate, though Ashton can only catch their silhouette from the corner of their bad eye thanks to the position they’ve been locked into.

“Right. Back to sleep with you,” the figure says. 

And something pierces into Ashton’s neck. He can feel whatever poison or drug is on it– in it?– seeping through his system. Ashton does his best to hold onto consciousness, but that shit is still being put into him. More and more, until he loses the fight to remain awake.

___

Ashton has the helm. 

Most need a compass, an enchanted one at that, in the Shattered Teeth, lest they get lost among the fog and shifting islands. But he is of Ka’Mort’s power, and the Empress of Earth’s power suffuses these isles. Ashton knows where the islands are, can feel them in his blood. Not to mention the eidolons here are the most eager and obedient to their requests over any other place they’ve sailed.

He breathes in the salty air. Blows out a whistle to the air and water eidolons to speed The Hellion along its course.

“There you are, Ashton. I’ve been searchin’ all over for you.”

“I don’t know why, Captain. It’s my shift at the helm,” Ashton says, leaning against the wheel as they eye the sorceress. Odd. She’s not wearing her captain’s coat. Imogen loves that thing, mostly because Laudna made it for her.

“The fuck are you talkin’ about, Ashton? This is a dream,” Imogen insists.

Everything freezes. Everything except him and Imogen.

“Ow,” Ashton says, hand going to their head as it sparks wildly. Realizing that this shit is a dream is a first. As is having Imogen poking in like this.

“Sorry about that,” Imogen apologizes. “Considering how wakin’ up didn’t go so great for you last time, we decided me jumpin’ into your dream to talk with you would be easier. I didn’t realize how much you got caught up in these dreams.”

“You’ve seen my dreams before?” Which probably isn’t the part they should be locking onto, but fuck it, this is, apparently, their dream.

“I go pokin’ around sometimes when I can’t sleep,” Imogen explains with a shrug. “And that’s besides the point. We’re comin’ to rescue you. We’re not gonna to leave you behind. So just hang on, alright? I promise, we’re comin’.

Her words echo through Ashton’s head, loosening a tension he hadn’t even realized was there. He’s alone, but not alone. Bells Hells isn’t going to abandon him to whoever fucking kidnapped him. And Ashton is kind of thankful he’s the only one these fuckers took. A rescue is probably more manageable than breaking out, and they’ll only be short him going in.

“Okay. But you better move fast, or I might get out on my own,” Ashton replies, challenging her, challenging them to come faster. 

“...And thanks.” for coming at all, they don’t say. But they think she can catch that anyways.

“We’re comin’. Promise.”

Had some fun playing with Ashton's alternate life dreams and how the Grim Verity/Omen Archives study of Exaltants said that they could enter others' dreams.

[darksaiyangoku]

RWBY Versus XV: A Bitter Reunion

Blake was frozen in fear as she saw Adam for the first time in over a year. He stood over a severely wounded Team SSSN and scoffed at them before turning to her.

"Hello Blake," he greeted. Blake twitched as she was face to face with her old partner. She could reach for her sword, but it wouldn't do any good. Adam was vicious and he could easily break Gambol Shroud like a twig. But running away was out of the question too. Adam was vindictive and he wouldn't stop until those who opposed him were dead.

"B-Blake!" Sun wheezed, "P-Please r- agh!" Adam angrily kicked him in the face to silence him. Drawing his sword, Wilt, he placed the tip towards Sun's back, slowly adding pressure. Sun clenched his fist as the sword started to burn him.

"Adam, no!" Blake screeched.

"What's it gonna be, little sister?" said Adam, "Are you gonna let him die?" Blake grit her teeth and drew her sword, charging at Adam. The two of them clashed swords with furious speed. "You and I were destined to change Remnant and then you turned your back on us! On me!"

"I never wanted to fight the humans!" Blake shouted, "My fight was against racism and prejudice! The White Fang was created for equality! Peace!"

As those words hit his ears, Adam started to lose it and he pushed her to the ground and drew his sword to her neck. Blake shifted Gambol to its pistol form and aimed it at near his head.

"Peace between humans and faunus is impossible! The humans are nothing but vile, filthy scum! Have you forgotten what they did to me?!" Adam grabbed onto his mask and tore it off, revealing the scar on his left eye, a brand with the letters 'SDC' burned onto him. Even after all these years, seeing it made Blake sick to her stomach. Slowly Adam lowered his sword and offered his hand, "Listen," he spoke calmly, "High Leader Sienna doesn't take kindly to deserters. But I can convince her to give you a second chance. Please come to back to me, come back to us. We can be a family again."

Blake kept her gun raised, her hand shaking slightly.

"I'd rather die than ever join you again!" she hissed. Adam's right eye shrank and he grabbed Blake's arm, crushing it. She screamed and tried to break free from his grip, but the pain was too much and she eas low on Aura. Sun could only watch in horror as he struggled to move.

"Killing you would be too easy," Adam said coldly, "First you need to suffer." Blake felt a sharp, burning sensation near her stomach as Adam stabbed her.

"AAAAAAAGH!!!"

"BLAAAAKE!!!!" Sun yelled.

"Get off of her!" Cried out a familar voice. Blake and Sun turned to see Yang, her eyes glowing red and her hair ablaze.

"Yang, no!" Sun warned her.

"D-Don't!" Blake wheezed. Their words fell on deaf ears as Yang leaped towards Adam, her fist raised and glowing with yellow flames. Suddenly, she tumbled and crashed to the floor as Adam drew Wilt and sliced off her arm.

[howlingday]

Time travel but its Yang blake and Adam after the girls kill him like they just appear with both sides of gambol shroud in adams body and after yang sees cinder again she decks her in the face and Blake breaks down over adams death cue the promise thing and general chaos ensues

And now, for something completely different...

---------------------------------------------------

Blake: (Panting)

Yang: (Panting)

Adam: (Hacks) Wh... What...

Blake: (Pulls away, Eyes well)

Yang: (Pulls away, Sighs) You okay, Bla-

Blake: HOLY SHIT!

Yang: Huh?

Yang: I THINK HE'S FUCKING DEAD!

Blake: W-Wait, what's going on?! Where are we?!

Jaune: I... I think I'm gonna be sick.

Ironwood: Arrest those two!

Yang: (Being detained) Wait! Hang on!

Blake: (Being detained) Th-There's been a mistake!

Ironwood: Please, remain silent. Your words could affect your consequence later on. You are permitted a-

Ozpin: Let them go, James.

Ironwood: Oz, this really isn't the time to-

Ozpin: Let them go, James.

Ironwood: Ozpin, listen to me! There is a corpse on your-

Ozpin: Let them go, James.

Ironwood: (Sighs, Waves hand)

Yang: Thanks, Ozpin.

Blake: (Sniffles) Thank you, sir.

Ozpin: Are you okay?

Blake: I just... I need a minute to process some things. Maybe if I had someone hold me and pet my hair and tell me everything will be okay...

Ozpin: Uh...

Blake: Preferably blonde, but I'm not too picky right now. What do you think, Ya-

Yang: WHAT UP, FIRE CROTCH?!

Cinder: Wha

[blorbologist]

Be my echo

(TW - discussion of Laudna’s death in Whitestone and some graphic violence/body horror standard for Laudna. And C3 episode 33 spoilers. ahaha. aha.)

“Laudna? Where are you?”

She can’t reply, and she wants to cry and scream or coo and soothe that she’s right here, she’s okay, it’s fine, Imogen run, Imogen run. But she can’t do anything but be a discarded dolly on the ground as the object of Imogen’s nightmares smiles and moves to her next target.

She’s dead, not deaf, silly. Can’t quite turn off the seeing, or the feeling, or the hearing, even if she’s a puppet with her strings cut. 

Laudna would never leave her without an answer.

It was really the most childish thing, but the first time, after (what, do you want her to say it? After, you know. Oh, it sounds like something dirty, when she avoids saying it. Maybe it is.)

Where was she? Oh, yes! Blablabla, Laudna had called out for her mother.

It wasn’t anything ruinous. She’d just fled Whitestone - they hadn’t bothered to give her shoes, but Laudna was used to gamboling along without them, so really no harm done, comparatively - and had hunkered down in something with four walls and half a roof. And in trying to curl up, and bring together her lovely dress for some warmth and pillows and maybe a little comfort too, she’d torn the hem.

It squalled, a cry as the most beautiful thing she had ever held sheared under her bloodied nails (when had they become bloodied?), and Laudna had - she just - she had sobbed, at this tiny little scrap of terrible upon a terrible day, and something that could have been “mom? Mom, fix it, please?” had stumbled out between her perfect teeth.

Which was stupid. Mother was terrible with a needle and thread. She wouldn’t have fixed it, that would have been for Laudna to do. 

But mother would have sighed, gently exasperated, and kissed her forehead when she insisted she wasn’t crying over a silly dress, see, and helped her out of this soggy and gorgeous funeral gown and gotten her into some jammies, and maybe sat by her bedside and pet her hair and oh Pelor, oh Eraths the dress is even worse, now, because she’s crying and it’s not tears it’s black - and oh gods, oh both of you and all of you, because mother’s not here she’s dead and it’s only Laudna who came back.

It kept happening. She’d be cold and ask the shadow in the doorway for some soup, please, mother? Feeling lost, she’d whistle and expect one of the farm dogs to find her and bring her home. Her run would end in a tumble into a ditch and she’d glance up, expecting father’s broad, sturdy hand to help her up. 

She just kept looking for them, which was silly, because she knew they were dead and gone, or gone and dead, or gone, or dead, and why did this reflex live longer than she had?

Laudna grew out of it. She thinks? Funny, so funny, that she became a strong, independent young woman after death. Took the better part of a year, which she thinks is excellent time given everything she was dealing with. 

But it was a reflex. Like pulling your hand from an open flame, or blinking, or holding your breath. And she kept some of those, so, really, how strange to think she’d kept that one?

What little she’d been unable to get rid of (had kept, tight to her chest, which was easy enough to do when she could kinda slide her hand under her skin in some places), Delilah took care of. She was very good at housekeeping, for a noble! Very imperious - this stays, that goes, clean this up, I live here too, now and I will not live in a pigsty of a mind. 

(Well, a little part of Laudna had sneered, maybe you shouldn’t have shacked up with little ol’ me. A little skinny stray cat, a street dog, you have no clue what sort of living I was up to. When I was alive, I mean. Could be a pigsty is where I slept. You never asked.)

Delilah was still someone, though. And Laudna looked to her, sometimes. 

When she was especially tired, or sad, or lonely. When she either forgot in the moment (it was just a day, one day, and this stretched on years, you’ve forgotten the details of so many days, right? Right?) or her despair was so great she didn’t care, anyone was someone, she’d talk to her. 

Delilah rarely responded. Sometimes she sent a feeling, you know? Equivalent to a ‘get well soon’ card - can’t be bothered, socially obligated to try. And sometimes she preyed on it, used the moment to twist at Laudna in ways she didn’t like, but she also liked it because she reached out and someone reached back. Even if they were reaching to grab her, hold her chin in her hand and go ah yes, she’ll do quite nicely - thank you, dear.

Where was she going with this? Hm. Pâté, a little help? 

Oh. Oh, where is he?

(Had she dropped him, or can’t he hear her, either, when she’s closer to being dead-dead?)

Ah. Yes, oh! Point of all that rambling: Laudna is used to finding silence where she should find people. 

Or. She had been used to this, until she found Imogen. Or Imogen found her. Or Delilah found her. Or Imogen found the absence of a person that was her. You know, it’s really complicated.

And when she said her name, Imogen responded.

With a hum, a twang in the air, precursor to a whole jaunty tune, just getting warmed up, or maybe winding down after being strung too tight all day long. 

With a ‘yea?’, an opening, a start, a beginning directed at this manifestation of so many ends, loose ends dead ends end of the story, this end of a woman she kept going.

With her name, Laudna, Laud, Laud’na, Loudna, a thousand different tones and pitches and emotions to them she collected like pretty bones on her windowsill. 

Imogen always, always responded. Even when she was asleep, which was funny, because she was still alive and slept normally, and she shouldn’t but she did. 

Laudna would be pressed close to her, at night, feeling like a thief for taking her body heat, like the luckiest woman alive (hah!) for being granted it. And she would just say it, for fun. Imogen? Iiiimogen? Im’gen? Out loud, as soft as she dared, and she would shift to her. Laudna never did it much, she would never disrupt her already fitful sleep, but it brought something warm to the space where her dead heart sat. 

And of course Laudna always responded. Because Imogen had known what it was like, to reach and receive nothing in return, too, and she would never impose that on her. Never, never - she’d endured it for decades and decades, she’d be damned if Imogen endured it a day more. 

It was normal. It was two years.

“Imogen!” “Yeah”

“Ooooh, Laudna!” “Mmm, yes?”

“Hm?” “Huh.”

“Fuck-” “Oh, dear.”

“Oh, Imogen?” “Hey, Laudna?”

“Imogen, darling?” “Yes, Laud?”

It was constant. Where are you? I’m here! I can’t see you? But you can hear me! What if I still can’t? I can feel you, in my head, in my heart, in me like you’re part of me.

Oh, oh that was a nice way of thinking of it. Part of eachother, yes! Like Imogen carried around a piece of Laudna in her harness satchel, or always clutched in her hand, and Laudna had bits of Imogen in every pocket, so no matter which she’d stick her spindly hands in she’d find her.

Or maybe something a little more morbid, you know - like that piece was an extra organ in their ribcages, a graft. More romantic, because morbid and romantic were truly quite the pair. They made quite the pair. She hadn’t thought about it, before, and it was a little dirty, like a fresh corpse, a little hard to look at, it was so new, not bleached and comfortable bones yet. But it was theirs and her’s and her’s and she cherished knowing it was there, sprouting daisies. Maybe it was a little confusing, a little messy, but everything about Laudna was and it made sense to her.

Two little songbirds, trilling to eachother, trilling to her mate that here were worms for you and here’s a feathered nest for you and how may I preen you? And now one was quiet and one was flying in a storm, and could she not, please don’t, Imogen - Imogen!

She can’t leave her without an answer, she can’t, she can’t leave her with this quiet with this noise with the absence of her - 

So the slow, sluggish, sloughing sparkings of the back of her mind ask for Delilah. 

And Delilah delights in answering, this time, because she’d been so good, so well behaved, and so well rewarded for it.

She’d take up a thousand deals with this devil if it meant their dialog was never interrupted, if Laudna never went unanswered again.

“Imogen,” Laudna rasps. 

She’s pretty sure she tries to add in some other things:

Imogen, I’m here. Imogen, run, please, I’m good at running, I’ll join you. Imogen, don’t run, don’t leave me. 

Imogen, I’m damaged, so badly damaged, not in this way but in other ways and oh you know. 

Imogen, darling. 

Imogen, please. Imogen, I don’t even know what I’m asking. Imogen, I know what I’m asking, and I’m scared. 

Imogen, love me? Please? Because I love you, I love you, Imogen I love you and I’m sorry I scared you, I’ll always answer you, I’ll always say yes, because it’s you and I love you, and don’t-

But it’s hard to fit that into six seconds, and it would be a waste of time because she always replies and they’ll have time for this later, so instead she bargains like Delilah would. Ruthless, half-truths, too-much-lies apparently because Otohan hurts Imogen for it and no, no, she didn’t want this.

It’s Whitestone in Bassuras.

If she squints, the sandstorm could be a snowstorm. 

The houses could be old stone and cedar. 

Those - those things, they could be vampires. 

This woman, she could be Delilah. 

(Delilah is very indignant at that comparison.)

And guess that makes the rest of the Hells her fellow dinner guests.

Because they’d all replied, too.

“Ooooh Orym!” “Yep?” “If you could turn into any animal, what would it be?” “Why are you like this, mom?”

“Fearne?” She didn’t respond verbally, but something chittered, and she was back to herself and had grinned, bright and devious and the same sort of other as her, and it was still like seeing like.

Laudna wants to die again. Which is silly, very silly, because she’s already dead, and Delilah just so kindly stopped her from being the boring sort of dead, but please -

“Is she your favorite?”

- don’t -

She’s right there, and Laudna’s stared down a bitch thrice as cruel before and smiled, but now she knows what stillness is, she knows what quiet is, and she can’t leave Imogen, she can’t let Imogen leave -

- leave her.

It’s with that same dim awareness that she’s stabbed, and stabbed again and held aloft, and Laudna is so very unlucky, to have her eyes open and taking in the scene even if she can’t process it.

Oh, she thinks, this’ll be so terrible to cover up. Last time she’d had rope burn and bruises, but this would ruin her dress, too. She’d start leaking.

It was more bearable, the first time. 

(Mom, fix it, please, please- )

[starter-library]

Guillermo Del Toro’s Pinocchio Lyric Starters

EDIT AS YOU SEE FIT

My Son

“You are my shining sun; My moon, my stars, my clear blue daylight sky”

“If you looked at me today my heart would heal so fast”

“If you held me right away I’d be complete at last”

“You are my favorite, favorite thing. Better than sunset, better than spring”

“You bring me joy, you make me sing in the morning, in the evening too”

“You are everything to me and I love you”

“My son, my son. You are my golden sun”

Everything is New To Me

“All the things my eyes can see, Everything is new to me”

“What do you call it?”

“What to do with it?”

“I love it, I love it!”

“The world is rich with funny words, They ring like bells, those tiny words”

“They dance in my mind like a chorus line, Those silly words of mine”

“Alright- alright that’s enough”

We Were a King Once

“We were a king once Can we be king twice?”

“We were bathing in milk, Played for diamonds and silk once. But we want it twice”

“My show was a magnet for the crowd”

“You were the kings once. Mon Dieu, was it nice”

“You were knights of the night, full of glory and might once. So let’s get it twice”

“We need an ace, a prince, a hero with no fears, no tears, no shame”

“We lit big fat hills of one hundred-dollar bills once. Can we do it twice?”

“Believe in you. Believe in me.”

My Bubblegum

“I scream, I cry for ice cream and for pie”

“if I ate a few gummies I still would eat a ton”

“You are everything to me and I love you”

“I’m free as the wind, No, I’m flying!”

“Your son is happy to have fun”

The Late Lamented

“Thou art gone, thy life hast fled. All shall now bewail the dead”

“No more flesh and no more bone. No more trouble to bemoan”

“Like a wave along the shore, you have passed, you will complain nevermore”

“The late, late lamented. For death can’t be prevented”

“No more feast, Now rest in peace”

“No more pain, You can’t complain”

Ciao Papa

“Time has come to say farewell”

“For how long will I go? Is it far? No one knows, no one can tell”

“If I am gone for a long, long time, I’ll pack away a fine piece of shine”

“I am ready to go, going far. Now I know it will be swell”

“I shall be gone for a long, long time- Shall be picking many peaks to climb”

“Rain or shine, I’ll keep in mind your memory”

“As I gambol on my long, long climb, I hold on tight to our best of times”

“Eyes in the rain, I try to hide tears of a boy who shouldn’t cry”

“Forevermore I’ll keep in mind your memory”

Fatherland March

“I fight for the land, I fight oversea, I’ll fight up to the end”

“The horizon in sight, stand up, follow the light”

“Like an eagle soaring- Magnificent and free- I’ll be marching, on the path to victory”

“We are brave! We are young!”

Big Baby Il Duce March

“Go smell your farts and pray”

“Eat your boogers, your slime, You can also get mine”

“Eat caca, big baby, eat caca, we are strong”

Better Tomorrows

“Hop to the top of the day, the drops are easy to swallow”

“Mop your tears and mend your sorrows, do not drown your soul wishing for better tomorrows”

“You want to think bright, You want to think right”

“A star falling down doesn’t break the night”

“You want to think bright whatever you do”

“For life has a funny way of going round and round”

“You can make it right well worth a good fight”

“If some days have downs and lows, open your arms to better tomorrows”

“You want to think right- To let your heart sing on a summer night”

“Fly high with the band- Just get up and swing”

“You can make it right- Well worth a good fight”

“These are the simple things that matter”

“You make it right and your heart is bright, so let the world go how it goes”

[sir-adamus]

I could be wrong but based on the angle in the clip it looks like Gambol Shroud is broken so that gives a little more hints at what versions of the cast are in this movie

gambol shroud is not broken, we see it in its full state in the trailer

but it does appear to be broken in the clip

going off of earlier speculation that they're in some kind of simulation (in the trailer, when Ruby's slicing through Grimm, they glow and glitch between frames) the apparent timeline discrepancy may be because some wires got crossed in translation (Yang has her Atlas arc arm, everyone's got their volume 1 era equipment, Weiss and Blake start out where they were at the beginning of the Mistral arc, Sienna's already dead, Pyrrha's not present and Oscar is somehow involved, and it's the Atlas CCT that's gone down, not Beacon's), details that don't make sense that the characters are picking up on and realising something's gone screwy

it's possible Blake noticing that Gambol Shroud is broken when it shouldn't be causes it to switch to its fixed state, cluing her in further that something's wrong

[diaryofamadsunwukongfan]

Beautiful Beast: Blake Belladonna

Race: Faunus

Nationality: Menagerie

Ethnicity: Island Creole

Weapon: Gambol Shroud

Gender: Women

Sexuality: Bisexual

Starting Age: 17

Birthday: Winter 50th

Aura Color: Dark Purple

Handedness: Right

Complexion: Pale

Eye Color: Gold

Faunus Trait: Cat Ears (Blake can do anything a house cat can!)

Occupation: Beacon student

Previous Occuppation: White Fang Member

Your hopes have become my burden. I will find my own liberation.

Ghira and Kali Bête were the founders of the Faunus rights organization, the White Fang. Togather, with their family friend Sienna and their daughter Blake, they traveled all of Renment seeking to end the Faunus struggle. Bringing food and supplies, teaching rural Faunus how to read and write, and teaching their own members self defense using weapons, this was the way of the Fang.

Critics, like the hate group Natural Order, called them the "Neo Faunus army", the revival of the radical organization that had slain the Emperor of Mistral within his own city. But the Fang proved time and time again how wrong they were by showing off their human allies and supporters at every rally. "Faunus & Human unity was what saved Adam from an abusive SDC mine", Blake would say. The Faunus are strong, but not as strong as when Faunus and Humans stand togather side by side... No one ever saw it coming. If they did, humans would have never been allowed at any Faunus rally... five years ago, Ghira and Kali were attending a rally at a Faunus town, just like they always do. There were humans in the auidence, just like there were at many of the towns they have been to. Ghira called on one of the humans to shake hands with him, and one stood up. He walked onto the stage. And that was when he shot Ghira and Kali. Blake was in the front row when it happened. Then, every human, not one or two, every human in the auidence drew a weapon and began killing Faunus. The attack escalated, and within hours the entire town was on fire. Blake isn't sure how she survived. She did not want to survive.

Sienna, and her adopted children Adam and Illa, found Blake hiding in the wreakage. They promised her that she would have justice for her family. Blake believed them. That was the day everything changed. The White Fang were only allowed to have weapons in self defense, but that only meant as long they didn't get caught. The humans seemed to think so. Blake wasn't an activst anymore, she was an assassin. Within a matter of 2 years, the Fang had systematically destroyed every human present for the Bloody Summer, and Blake was right there with Sienna and Adam leading the charge. She thought that things would go back to normal now that her parent's killers were dead.

They didn't. The work of the Fang is never done, Sienna reasoned. The Faunus have the power to defeat all their human enemies, said Adam. We must have justice for all our people and not just your parents, Illa argued. Blake relented, because that is what Ghira would have wanted, right? Some days, Blake swears she could hear her father's voice in Adam. When Blake had fallen into depression, Adam was there to protect her. He knew what it was like to lose a parent, and he wouldn't lose Blake... no, he refused to lose Blake. He watched her every move, kept tabs on every person she talked to, was there for her every hour of every day because that's what loving boyfriends do, right? No one's strong like Adam, no one's brave like Adam, no one shoots 10 humans dead with one bullet like Adam!

...Then came that fateful day. It was supposed to be a simple SDC train raid. Blake and Adam were to steal the Dust and weapon cargo on the train, and then leave. The human workers were supposed to be avoided, and killed if they saw the Fang raiding the train. No one could no... but Adam reasoned what was even the point of working so hard to avoid detection when they could just eliminate all the humans out right. Blake objected, these are just human workers not elites... but Sienna agreed. Blake couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't take the constant escalating violence, she couldn't take the Fang abusing her father's legacy, she couldn't take Adam turning into the men that killed her father anymore...

... goodbye.

Deep down, you must know that the hearts of mankind are moved more by the sword than by the pen... perhaps you seek an easier solution, in which case, I have offers...

[gear-project]

Annon-Guy: Guilty Gear Guest Voting Poll Result Winners!

BlazBlue - Ragna The Bloodedge

Licensed - Ruby Rose

In that vein, how would Ruby play in Guilty Gear StrIVe? Like she does in BlazBlue Cross Tag Battle, but with more depth?

Ruby is a bit more powerful than initial gameplay of her from Season 1 RWBY would indicate.

And actually, considering the idea that RWBY has yet to finish its story to completion, I would argue that the girls are far more powerful now than they were previous seasons ago.

I'm sure Monty Oum had his own concepts to consider when making such characters, considering a lot of the cast of Dead or Alive (D.o.A.) from Koei Techmo's side of things, Ninja Gaiden, and also Final Fantasy Advent Children as key points of inspiration for his works.

If one were to take Sol's transforming OutRage to a new level, I'm sure Ruby's Crescent Rose would be capable of a great many things mid-combat on even a smaller scale, to say nothing of Myrtenaster, Gambol Shroud, and Ember Celica.

Though we may never know the ultimate fate of Monty Oum's true vision, I'm sure RWBY's current staff are hard at work coming up with "something" that can compete with what Guilty Gear can dish out.

[unofficialadamtaurus]

RWBY: Hollow People surprise pop quiz!

It’s Blake’s birthday! How would Adam, the human embodiment of emotional constipation that he is, help her celebrate it? Show his character pro(re)gression by listing him at the following four times:

Their honeymoon couple phase, i.e after running away from her parents but before ditching the White Fang (child soldiers who? All I see are kids in lov- ignore that dead body over there).

Their “it’s not you, it’s me! Lol jk it’s totally you” phase, i.e Blake realizing that Adam might be a little too violent for her taste (how could she have know, right?) and Adam realizing Blake might be a little too… herself for his own (she runs away all the damn time!!)

Post-breakup and separation and they’re totally not thinking of each other! No way! Blake left him so why should he/she miss her! (the White Fang and Team RWBY emotional support operations fail spectacularly)

And finally, the present. Despite Adam’s worldview completely crashing down on him currently, he decides to ask Yang, Ruby, and Weiss for advice on how to celebrate this momentous occasion, only to find out they do not, in fact, know it is her birthday. How do they celebrate? (No, Ruby, Adam and Yang’s “sparring” match is not a party ga- oh shit there’s blood! Theresblood!)

Honeymoon phase: takes her to scenic places near camp, maybe even tries to bake once or twice with Ilia’s help, gifts her components of the first/nth iteration of Gambol Shroud and/or books, sketching supplies, the like. Possibly jewelry or other accessories that are clearly his attempt to understand her tastes but he definitely misses the mark the first time. (Random headcanon: the silver cuff Blake wears in V1 and flashbacks is a melted-down piece of her first weapon).

“It’s not you it’s us”: he tries to gift her things that align more with his worldview - ammo, former SDC wage slave autobiographies, that kind of thing - and celebrations (organized by Ilia or at least not Adam) have an uneasy undercurrent of them both not wanting to talk about the elephant in the room and disrupt their shaky balance on the tightrope that’s fraying regardless.

Broken up: Adam kept one of her notebooks, allegedly to use it to rekindle his anger, but really to remember what he missed (like not being able to delete text convos with your ex). He goes off alone to brood and just generally has less patience than normal. He might even schedule a particularly violent mission on her birthday as a petty “fuck you” because he knows she’ll hear about it, and that she’ll know he did it on that day on purpose.

Present: Adam isn’t allowed out of his cell, and the topic comes up while he and Yang are chatting after Adam’s second arrest. Adam encourages them to celebrate it with Blake - right now most of her memories of the day are either with her parents (bittersweet and getting better) or with him (bitter), and she deserves to have it be a happy day again. He gives suggestions of what he did at the start, and then as a gift he offers the notebook he still kept with him (lol out-of-story word of god fun fact) even in Atlas that was finally confiscated on that second arrest.

[spider-xan]

June 24 - Jonathan Harker's Journal

I thought I would watch for the Count's return, and for a long time sat doggedly at the window. Then I began to notice that there were some quaint little specks floating in the rays of the moonlight. They were like the tiniest grains of dust, and they whirled round and gathered in clusters in a nebulous sort of way. I watched them with a sense of soothing, and a sort of calm stole over me. I leaned back in the embrasure in a more comfortable position, so that I could enjoy more fully the aërial gambolling. Something made me start up, a low, piteous howling of dogs somewhere far below in the valley, which was hidden from my sight. Louder it seemed to ring in my ears, and the floating motes of dust to take new shapes to the sound as they danced in the moonlight. I felt myself struggling to awake to some call of my instincts; nay, my very soul was struggling, and my half-remembered sensibilities were striving to answer the call. I was becoming hypnotised! Quicker and quicker danced the dust; the moonbeams seemed to quiver as they went by me into the mass of gloom beyond. More and more they gathered till they seemed to take dim phantom shapes. And then I started, broad awake and in full possession of my senses, and ran screaming from the place. The phantom shapes, which were becoming gradually materialised from the moonbeams, were those of the three ghostly women to whom I was doomed.

September 17 - Memorandum left by Lucy Westenra

The room and all round seemed to spin round. I kept my eyes fixed on the window, but the wolf drew his head back, and a whole myriad of little specks seemed to come blowing in through the broken window, and wheeling and circling round like the pillar of dust that travellers describe when there is a simoon in the desert.

The air seems full of specks, floating and circling in the draught from the window, and the lights burn blue and dim. What am I to do? God shield me from harm this night!

November 5 - Memorandum by Abraham Van Helsing

In the cold hour the fire began to die, and I was about stepping forth to replenish it, for now the snow came in flying sweeps and with it a chill mist. Even in the dark there was a light of some kind, as there ever is over snow; and it seemed as though the snow-flurries and the wreaths of mist took shape as of women with trailing garments. All was in dead, grim silence only that the horses whinnied and cowered, as if in terror of the worst. I began to fear—horrible fears; but then came to me the sense of safety in that ring wherein I stood. I began, too, to think that my imaginings were of the night, and the gloom, and the unrest that I have gone through, and all the terrible anxiety. It was as though my memories of all Jonathan's horrid experience were befooling me; for the snow flakes and the mist began to wheel and circle round, till I could get as though a shadowy glimpse of those women that would have kissed him. And then the horses cowered lower and lower, and moaned in terror as men do in pain. Even the madness of fright was not to them, so that they could break away. I feared for my dear Madam Mina when these weird figures drew near and circled round.

Then, alas! I knew. Did I not, I would soon have learned, for the wheeling figures of mist and snow came closer, but keeping ever without the Holy circle. Then they began to materialise till—if God have not take away my reason, for I saw it through my eyes—there were before me in actual flesh the same three women that Jonathan saw in the room, when they would have kissed his throat.

[kittyprincessofcats]

RWBY Volume 9 Ep 1 - A  Place of Particular Concern

I wanted to make this post before episode 2, but oh well - in my defense, I was sick. (I also haven’t watched episode 2 yet, so for me it still is “before”.)

I’ll try to be brief as well and just write down the stuff I really want to say. Don’t know if I’ll make a post like this for every episode either, depends on whether I’ll feel up for it. (Likely not, but I wanted to do it this time.)

- First things first: Aaah, RWBY is finally back! For me this is actually a first-time experience too, since I didn’t get into RWBY until Volume 8 was already almost over. (If I remember right the last few eps of Vol 8 were the first ones I actually watched “live” (or well, with a week’s delay)).

- As a whole, I’m a lot more relaxed about Volume 9 than I was about late Volume 8 (or than I am about Volume 10). Because we’re taking this detour in the Ever After (a good choice imo, since RWBY has so many characters by now that it can get a bit overwhelming), and the only named characters here are Team RWBY, Jaune, and Neo, I don’t have as much to get anxious about. My only faves here who could get hurt are Team RWBY, and since they’re the main characters I think they’ll be fine. My other faves are either not in the void (Cinder, Salem, Ilia) or already dead (Penny... don’t touch me I’m still not over it), so I think this volume is going to be comparatively easy on my nerves (now watch me eat my words as Team RWBY goes through hell...). (My little sisters’ faves are Jaune and Neo respectively, so I’ll see how they like this volume...)

- I wonder who the mysterious narrator in the beginning is. Well, we’ll find out. (But the last time we had a “mysterious narrator” she turned out to be very important, so...)

- Love how it wastes no time throwing us back into the Vol 8 ending from Ruby’s POV.

- Who’s voice is that calling “Ruby!” when she wakes up at the beach? Is that still Penny? Sounds more like Yang to me, but I’m really not sure.

- The two suns made me think of Star Wars.

- I love Little. (And I also like that Ruby being kind to a little mouse even while she’s going through a lot herself is what ends up freeing Weiss and Blake from the mice. Kindness is good and all that.)

- Interesting to know that cartoons exist on Remnant. Makes sense, though, they have TVs and all after all...

- Bit sad we didn’t get to see Weiss and Blake’s reunion. Also, is this the first time they’ve said the name “Gambol Shroud” out loud in the show?

- The way Weiss tells Blake “I’m really glad you’re okay”... Yeah, until just now she thought all of her teammates were dead. And she’s clearly still processing that Penny’s dead for real.

- Weiss cheering Blake on when she’s trying to get her weapon is adorable.

- Love how Ruby nudges her shoulder to wake Little up.

- “I can be your trusty guide” -> cut to them falling asleep. I love Little.

- “I don’t know if anyone else fell, no.” Oh, I just remembered again that none of Team RWBY know that Jaune is down here, too. They won’t look for him because they don’t know he’s here. And they might not run into him, either. So, what if they just straight up don’t meet him? I’ve even seen theories they might leave the Ever After without him since they don’t know... oh boy, I think something interesting is definitely in store for Jaune this volume.

- The Jabberwalker is terrifying and we definitely haven’t seen the last of them.

- That moment when Ruby wants to join the fight but the realizes she doesn’t have Crescent Rose anymore... yeah, based on the intro as well, I wonder if it’ll maybe take a while - maybe even the whole volume? - until Ruby gets Crescent Rose back.

- “I said I wasn’t done with you yet!” Oh... shout out to Barbara for how she voiced this line. Also, I’ve said it before: Yang is so badass. Thinks she’s dead, only has one arm, still goes afte the Jabberwalker.

- “Dammit! You weren’t supposed to be here!” The way her voice breaks here, oh gosh... Yang just wanted to protect Ruby, she was ready to sacrifice herself for Ruby, and to see now that it didn’t work as Ruby and the others still fell... let me give Yang a hug. (They might also have to talk about those self-sacrificial tendencies, because while I get the “protective big sister instinct” - you’re important too, Yang.)

- “If you thought we wouldn’t come for you, then you must have forgotten who raised me.” When I first heard this line, I thought Ruby meant Tai (and Summer) by this, but then I saw people say that she meant that Yang raised her and gosh... that’s both even sweeter and even more heartbreaking. (But also, Ruby... you didn’t actually “come for” Yang, you though she was dead and then you all fell into the void by accident. Not saying you wouldn’t have come for her if you’d known, but that’s not quite what happened.)

- I’ll be squeeling about that Bumbleby tackle-hug for the next few weeks, thanks for asking. The way Blake says “Yang” so softly, the way Yang touches her head and smiles... it’s perfect. Everything I wanted for their reunion and more.

(Also, I don’t want to get into negativity too much here, but it’s astounding how I’ve already seen the dumbest discourse ever over this scene. “Yang should have hugged Ruby instead; why would she care about someone more than her sister?” and similarly braindead takes... like WTF? Yang and Ruby literally had a really sweet sisterly moment right before this. Yang and Ruby have hugged before. Like, what kind of a braindead take is this? Are people who have siblings not allowed to also have significant others or other people they love and care about? Honestly, it’s just straight-up homophobia, let’s call it what it is. If this hug had happend between, say... Ren and Nora, after one of them thought the other was dead, literally no one would be grasping at straws to find something to complain about. No one would be calling it “ship baiting” or throwing fits. If it doesn’t bother you when it’s a man and a woman, but it does when it’s two women or two men - that’s homophobia. And a lot of the haters also seem to go down the whole “but it’s not canon” rabbithole and like... yes, it is. Just because Blake and Yang haven’t kissed or confessed their feelings out loud yet doesn’t make them not canon. They’re canonically in love, that much is explicitly clear. Deal with it or leave.)

- I like the build-up to Weiss telling everyone what happened (rule of 3 - when Blake and then later Ruby ask, she keeps saying they have to find Yang first and she’s not letting herself really process it either. But when they’re finally all together, Weiss finally allows herself to cry and tell them.

- Okay, time to let out my inner Nuts and Dolts shipper: WOW. The fact that Ruby just straight-up faints when she hears that Penny died. The fact that Weiss didn’t even finish speaking and Ruby already fainted... I’m so here for it! Look, I’m still heartbroken (and still in denial, hoping they’ll bring her back a second time), but if I have to deal with half of my ship being dead, then I at least want to see the other half have the most intense reaction possible to it. I want Ruby to grieve, I want Ruby to go through hell, I want her to just not be normal about this on any level. The intro already tells us that this is the “Ruby is depressed” volume, but I want that to be at least in large parts because of her grief for Penny. Ruby thought she’d lost Penny once, then she got her back, got even closer with her, fell in love with her, went through all of that trouble in Volume 8 to save her from the virus, only to find out she died anyways... yeah, I want Ruby to suffer about it and I’m so glad we’re getting that. (And in my perfect shipper-wish-fullfilment version I want Ruby to have some sort of “I loved her” line when talking about Penny later.)

- I like that Weiss left out Jaune’s exact role in Penny’s death and phrased it as “Jaune tried to help, but she sacrificed herself”. It’s not a lie and Weiss is being a good friend to Jaune by deciding that that part isn’t hers to tell. That being said, I want Ruby to go absolutely ballistic on Jaune when she finds out. I want her to blame Jaune, I want there to be a fight with tears and emotions and rage, I want it all. (To be clear, I’m not blaming Jaune, but I want Ruby to. Like I said, I want Ruby to not be normal about this. Let Ruby go apeshit over losing the girl she loves.)

- So wait, Ruby fainted and they just let her lie there? (Okay, to be fair, we don’t see what happend while she was out.)

- Okay, so Team RWBY currently don’t know that Jaune fell, that Salem has the relic, or how everyone in vacuo is doing. Weiss still saw Winter become the winter maiden and most people get to vacuo though, right? 

- Side-note, what about all the random citizens who fell into the void when Cinder set off that first explosion? Team RWBY knows about them - are they going to at least try and save them too, or is this supposed to be a “they’re background characters, so let’s hope the viewers have forgotten about them” thing?

- Oh, I have feelings about Yang asking Ruby if she’s alright and Ruby brushing it off to talk about Neo instead. I hope WBY will realize that Ruby’s going through it right now.

- Yay for Blake taking charge and coming up with a plan. She’s come so far.

- Yang thought she was dead... don’t touch me.

- “I think we’re in a fairytale.” Oh, lovely line to end the first episode on.

Now for the opening:

- Love the song, first of all!

- That opening shot of Jaune and Neo! Jaune still with the broken sword and tears... Yeah, he’s not going to have a good time this volume either. Likely there’s going to be a lot of wrestling with guilt over Penny. Also, as some people have pointed out, there are quite a few parallels between Jaune and Neo. They’ve both lost someone they love (Pyrrha and Roman), they’re both keeping a tragic keepsake of that person (Pyrrha’s red fabric and Roman’s hat), they both (arguably for Jaune?) want revenge for that person’s death... yeah, will be interesting to see if this volume does anything with that.

- That montage of everyone growing more confident while Ruby receeds and becomes more depressed, the part where it’s just Ruby crying, then that montage of everyone else walking and getting faster while Ruby walks behind and gets slower and slower and hangs her head... Yeah, this is “Ruby has depression” -  the volume, and I’m really looking forward to that for several reasons. First of all because I feel like Ruby is ironically one of the less developed characters on the show and I can’t wait for her to finally have the time to get that development. (This is another reason why I think it was a good call to have a smaller cast this this volume.) And secondly because I’ve been struggling with what’s likely depression and I think seeing that represented in a show I like would feel really healing.

- I would have never noticed the “no 11th hour” thing with Jaune on my own - props to all of you for picking up on that!

- Well that part with Ruby on the bridge isn’t creepy at all.

- Neo’s sitting behind a table sipping tea while wearing Roman’s hat and that’s when it hit me that she’s the mad hatter. Brilliant!

- Also, I wouldn’t have picked up on Jaune being the white rabbit (who’s always too late!) myself, but I love it. Also, this is another parallel between him and Neo and I wonder what their stories will have to do with each other this volume.

- Also interesting how we see both Ruby and Neo turning into... was her name Alyx? - well, our Alice, “the girl who fell through the world”, you know who I mean. Just like Jaune and Neo have parallels, Ruby has paralles with both of them as well (she’s also just lost the redhead she loves and might also keep a tragic keepsake of Penny’s).

Okay, one personal prediction I want to make: So far, every one of the last RWBY volumes had one character in particular stand out and steal the show for me, my “fave of the volume”, so to speak. For Volume 5 it was Ilia, for Volume 6 it was Salem, for Volume 7 it was Penny, and for Volume 8 it was Cinder. And based on the first episode and opening I think that for Volume 9 it’s going to be Ruby. That whole going through depression and mourning Penny thing... yeah, I think Ruby is who I’ll feel for the most here and I’m ready for it. Make this her volume, she deserves it. (I definitely also hope for some amazing Bumbleby moments, tough.)

I am apparently incapable of writing “short” posts.