#he has rapid regeneration and is Very Hard To Kill | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fridge-reviews · 4 days ago

Text

Ghostwire: Tokyo

Developer: Tango Gameworks Publisher: Bethesda Softworks Steam Deck Compatibility?: Verified Rrp: £49.99 (Humble, Steam and Epic) Released: 25th March 2022 Available on: Humble, Steam and Epic Played Using: Mouse and Keyboard, Steam Deck Approximate game length: 20 hours approx

I’m just going to say up front that I’m sorry for how often I use the word ‘spirit’ in this review, it’s a hard word to avoid when nearly everything relates back to it.

You play as Akito, a young man who is on a mission to save his sister from the mysterious man in a mask that kidnapped her from the hospital. At the start of the game Akito gains a stowaway known as KK, who’s own goals happen to align. For as long as you have KK onboard you can make use of all the spiritual powers he has and don’t take any fall damage regardless of the height you fall from.

The game is set within the district of Tokyo called Shibuya. The once bustling streets have now become the hunting grounds for creatures known as ‘visitors’. These visitors are spirits that have manifested from negative emotion and each one is a representation of it. As you defeat these visitors an entry will be filled out within your status screen, giving detail on that specific visitor. For example, there is a visitor called a Forlorn, which looks like a small child in a yellow raincoat and umbrella. If they see you, they will summon in many other visitors and disappear. The Forlorn are created from the sorrow of abused children.

Concentrating fire on a single visitor will eventually expose their ‘core’. Once the core is exposed you can destroy it causing most enemies to die instantly. However, you will need to be quick as the core's defences will regenerate after a short time. You can also stealth kill many enemies by performing a ‘quick purge’ (though some enemies won’t die from this but instead take a lot of damage). This requires you to sneak up behind an enemy which in some cases is easier said than done. Upon their death a visitor will drop ether which restores Spiritual Power (SP) and grants experience points (XP).

SP is used as ammunition for your attacks and comes in three colours, red, blue and green, each of which represents an attack type and are based on three of the four elements (being wind, water and fire). While visitors don’t seem to have any specific vulnerabilities to the element of the attack each attack type does have its specific uses. Air attacks are the weakest of the three but have the most SP, can be fired off in rapid succession and are very easy to replenish. Water attacks are shorter in range but can hit multiple enemies at once. Lastly (of the SP based attacks) there is fire, fire is essentially the rocket launcher of this game, high damage, low fire rate, low SP amount and is the hardest to replenish. As you play, you’ll also gain access to a bow and various talismans that don’t use SP but have very limited ammunition.

Scattered all over the game world are what look like clumps of spirits, these spirits can be collected with a paper doll called a Katashiro (which can be bought from the stores). Rather than simply being a collectible you can transfer these spirits via a phone booth which will grant you XP. There are actually a number of collectibles that you can find that grant XP as well as side quests that grant it.

In classic RPG fashion once you have enough XP you’ll level up, this is depicted as Akito’s synergy level increasing as well as increasing your maximum HP. Levelling up also gives Spirit Skill points to spend on unlocking new skills, such as making attacks more potent or being able to glide for a short period.

Something that I found quite interesting is that you recover health by consuming food and drink. What makes this interesting is that this also has an additional benefit of very slightly increasing your maximum HP with each item consumed and some food will even grant a temporary buff.

As you play you’ll find shops that are ran by strange floating cats with two tails (these are a form of spirit known as Nekomata). These shops take a currency called Meika that you will find scattered throughout the game world in floating gold pots or in some cases large golden cat statues.

A fog Permeates the game world that, should you wander into it, will quickly drain your health. In order to remove these fog and free up the map for exploration you have to cleanse Tori gates. Yes, these are effectively the radio towers in a Far Cry game, but in those you won’t die by wandering into the area without uncovering it first.

I’ve seen this levied at the game as a criticism but I love how empty the streets feel, it really adds to the haunted atmosphere that these once crowded city streets are now devoid of all life. It adds an element of liminal horror. I’m sure that for those that have actually been to Shibuya that this will feel even more effective. From what I’ve been able to research it seems that the area this game takes place in has been very faithfully remade for the most part. In a way it makes me a little sad to know that this may actually be the closest I ever get to visiting Japan.

The designs of the visitors really hit a sweet spot for me, I love their designs, they look just human enough that it makes them uncanny and really adds to the creepiness factor of the game.

I tried to play this game with English dubbing because I often struggle to read subtitles while watching things but I found the voice acting awful and quickly changed it back to the original Japanese.

Since this game has been verified to run on the Steam Deck I thought I’d give it a go and ran it for a few hours and found absolutely no issues, though much like God of War it drains the battery quickly.

My overall thoughts? This game is pretty great. Sure it suffers from some of the typical open world busy work that others of its ilk do but it really nails the haunting atmosphere it was going for, especially with the school damn place creeped the hell out of me.

If this appeals to you perhaps try;

The Dishonored series Deathloop System Shock Remake

#game review #game reviews #games review #games reviews #video games #video game #video gaming #bethesda softworks #bethesda #tango gameworks #ghostwire tokyo #horror #halloween games

1 note · View note

altocat · 2 years ago

Note

Heeey, i saw you answer some asks earlier relating to catboy sephiroth, and on a similar vein id love to ask you how you felt about sephiroth having more alien qualities? Like prehensile hair or weird inhuman instincts?

(or any hyperspecific weird behaviors he has due to his j cells?)

I love exploring the idea of weird alien shenanigans! Seph has plenty of traits to choose from.

-A lot of his outward physical traits are so small you might barely notice them. There's the eyes of course. They're the most prominent characteristic, capable of both rapid focusing as well as seeing in the dark, and reacting based on emotion. And of course the odd purrs and growls I mentioned as well.

-But there's other things too. Sephiroth's precognitive senses are always keenly attuned to his surroundings. Sometimes, he can literally sense things in advance, or even dream them. He's not very up to scratch on these abilities but they can be useful in battle.

-Sephiroth's hair grows alarmingly quickly, even after it's just been cut. His teeth and nails are very sharp as well, though most do not initially notice this. Sephiroth himself doesn't.

-Certain small limbs have the ability to regenerate if they are severed. Fingers. Toes. An ear. Sephiroth's healing abilities are incredible, to the point where it's extremely hard to kill him unless you go all in like Cloud did.

-Sephiroth is nocturnal. His mind works rapidly at night and his natural inclination desires sneaking about in the dark. Sometimes, he has strange desires to go hunting in the woods or to just sit outside and look at the moon. It's all extremely confusing for him. Catboy hehe.

-Part of Sephiroth's fascination with stars comes from his alien origins. But thankfully, his is more from curiosity than the need to outright conquer, at least while he's sane.

-Sephiroth has mimicry abilities from Jenova he hasn't even utilized. He doesn't know they exist. But he could probably shift his voice if he knew it was there. Or use certain sounds as camouflage to ambush the enemy.

-There's an undercurrent of brutality in Sephiroth's most secret, hidden desires. One he doesn't completely understand. The need to just go completely feral and decimate his surroundings. To claw and tear people apart. To eviscerate every human in his path. Like so many other things, he bottles up these feelings. Past trauma and frustration in his past only made it worse.

-Sephiroth also feels occasionally playful when it comes to poking and batting at things lol. No particular reason. Much like a cat, he has a hidden need to toy with smaller creatures or stare at tiny things others can't really see.

-Sephiroth's wing is only the first basic indication of prominent J-cells. There's the opportunity he could grow other mutations. He has a level of control over what shape it forms into. Due to his crazed ideas on godhood, his Safer Sephiroth form is the direct product of both his mutations and the skewed way he perceives himself. Thus, an angel, cruel and beautiful. There's the Remnants as well, though they're both autonomous and different aspects of Sephiroth's psyche.

-Alien catboy. He do a big stretch! He purr! He leap! He sits in full loaf position on the corpses of your friends and relatives!

#Sephiroth #Sephcanons #ff7 #crisis core #ffvii #asks #final fantasy 7 #Jenova #Catboy

23 notes · View notes

thecitythatdoesntsleep · 3 years ago

Text

Vampire Master-Guide

First of all I want to start off by saying I've gathered inspiration from MANY vampire medias. Fictions, games. The biggest influences are Vampire the masquerade (primarily bloodlines) and Vampire Knight (manga). As well as honorable mentions to Vampyr (game), Queen of the Damned (movie) and Van Helsing (movie, anime). So if anything sounds familiar, chances are it is. I highly encourage you to explore them as they are a few of my favorites.

Second of all this is going to be massive, so I'll be putting it under a cut. But it will be a comprehensive guide to my personal vampire lore that I've crafted and worked with through the years. If you like it, feel free to use it! I'd absolutely love to be tagged (so I can shower the creations with praise) but it's not required. I'm just out here making one more version of vampires that hopefully inspires you. There will be a couple different categories that I will touch base on.

History (this part is super short)

Physicality - Medical Information

Physicality - Appearance/Body

Mental Effects

Society

Anything from my vampire lore will be tagged #vlor

Now follow me under the cut, lovelies. But please be Warned: We'll be discussing blood, violence, physical and mental illness. As well as regular vampire related things. If any of this could trigger you, please kindly skip this post because you're far more important to me!

'History'

The original vampire to walk the earth, cursed by the heavens was Caine. After committing the first murder, a blood-soaked punishment was to forever be banished to walk the darkness with a constant reminder of his crimes. Thirst. Craving for the same blood he shed against his own kin. The sin was carried through the years and he came upon another outcast kindred by the name of Lilith, cursed by God in a different way and hexed with powerful disciplines.

They bonded as kine and Lilith taught her chaos to Caine in hopes they'd rule together. In the end his nature stayed true and his now empowered wrath befalls Lilith, committing murder yet again and taking her life.

To feed upon and be fed, was a now animalistic instinct that spoke louder than supposed human nature ever could. And thus the curse spread. To anyone that drinks from the tainted or is bitten by a rabid, is surely to bear it at the final heartbeat. The path to redemption is sealed but survival is nearly infinite. So long as the beast is obeyed and satisfied, there is no constraint on lifespan. They will be damned to an eternity enslaved to thirst.

(Primarily from VTMB but I really like the idea of it being some sort of ancient curse from the gods so I thought I'd include this tiny historical bit. Onto the good stuff.)

Physicality - Medical Information

Vampires are anemic, let's just establish that all vampires are what modern day medicine would consider anemia. But they also have super aggressive red blood cells that function x100 that of human white blood cells. All in one combo of super cells. No illness spreads. No disease can contract, nothing can live in their system. They don't fall ill with colds or flu. STD's aren't feasible. Their systems are far too strong and combative to infections, bacteria.

Their integumentary systems regenerate about x200 - x300 times faster. Within seconds (if there is or has been fresh blood in the system recently) their skin regenerates and goes even beyond that. Mere hours and limbs grow back, bones realign.

Vampires don't have functioning organs. (If they are turned from humans they are there but they don't work and will eventually wither.) Hearts don't beat, lungs have no need for air.

Vampires can't drown. They don't breathe and even if water fills their lungs, they would be weighted down but not die. They also don't float like humans do naturally.

Vampires can go out in the sun but they have hard times with sun poisoning. Think of a sunburn but more like a rash. They can't process the vitamin D very well and almost all of them have trouble with getting severely burnt very rapidly or having a rash from the sun. Prolonged exposure can make them feverish, nauseated and give them body cramps and fatigue. Even longer can make them violently ill and can essentially melt their skin. It can be healed but takes longer.

Staking their hearts immobilizes them but does NOT kill them. They can be detained this way and it is excruciatingly painful. But it doesn't kill you.

Vampires can't eat food. Only few can consume liquids aside from blood. They have no ability to digest it and no longer make acid. They'll usually heave it up along with whatever blood content is left in their gut.

They have perfect eyesight, hearing, hyper senses of taste and smell. Touch is extremely sensitive as well. Their skin isn't fragile, in fact it's a bit thicker than average skin from how fast it regenerates and is constantly maintaining itself.

They are very resistant but not impossible to scar. Scars from human life are erased with first turning.

Vampire blood tastes like flat soda or icky, room temperature tap water. Unpleasant to other vampires but in a desperate pinch, it will sustain but nowhere near as good as foreign blood does. Even animal blood takes better care of a vampires system than another body of recycled blood. (Think of it as they've already taken the good stuff out of it for their own bodies so all that's left is the taste and a few stray nutrients.)

Vampires fangs grow back indefinite. At about x10 the rate of humans losing and replacing their first set. No matter what comes of them, their fangs will always grow back. No other teeth mutate like this.

Fangs lengthen and retract when around blood or not. It's not something that can be helped or even trained out. When blood is present, fangs will lengthen even if there is no intention to feed. Automatic reaction and a painful one at that. They get used to it but it's a sharp pain like having a human tooth extracted but it doesn't have prolonged swelling or discomfort. Only when getting longer or retracting back in.

Whenever they're in bloodlust or a state of starvation, they gain a sense of x-ray vision but instead it's vein mapping. They can see through skin to arteries and if it's severe blood lust, they can even see the smaller, tinier veins in fingers and faces. This is a sight that ever vampire possesses in order to obtain blood easier or figure out a good place to bite. Anything that is living will be seen in a structure of veins. Animals, humans, other vampires.

Severing the brain stem from the body is one of the few sure-fire way to kill a vampire. Alternatively burning them to pure ash and scattering them or holding them in separate vessels. (If ALL ashes are contained somehow and mixed with fresh blood, there is a reanimation process so beheading them is more permanent.) Silver weapons or exposure to silver prior to wound can result in death as well.

Alcohol is SUPER effective when they drink it. Think of one shot making them drunk because it hits their bloodstream almost immediately. A double would have them seeing double and acting like a hot mess. 3+ for even the beefiest of men would have them blacked out and vomiting on the sidewalks.

Drugs effect them but only in extremely high doses and for nothing really over 2 hours or so. Short, short longevity but they have the same crash that humans do. If it's hard detoxing symptoms for humans, it's the same but faster. They can do a hard drug, feel the high for maybe 1 - 2 hours and immediately go into hallucinating and shaking from the aftermath. The same goes for Pharmacia. There's really no medicine that works.

Garlic is a myth. So is wolfsbane.

Silver on the other hand is a very real, very deadly weapon that still rings true. A single pinprick of a silver sewing needle and it can render a vampire powerless. Slow them down to the speed of a human, take away their rapid healing and remove all of their heightened senses. Silver directly into the bloodstream essentially renders them as they were before they turned in physical response and structure. It's the only metal that burns vampires skin and will char it if it sits in one spot for too long. Silver is the only kind of metal that can forge chain that vampires cannot break and can successfully be restrained in. Any wounds inflicted in silver take longer to heal.

They can't reproduce after being turned. Purebloods + Purebloods are the only exception and it's still extremely rare. (Only 9 children born in over 2,500+ years.)

Physicality - Appearance/Body

Whatever color their eyes are, blood-lust accentuates the brightest color. I.e: Brown eyes turn Yellow/Gold, Blue eyes turn White/Purple exct. (Different powers can change this depending on the vampire and their history, sire.) Just think neon, glowing eyes in the dark if they're thirsty or hunting.

They stay frozen in whatever physical appearance they're turned in. Their metabolism is whack so they don't really lose or gain weight, it's down to cosmetic changes or cosmetic surgery. Which at least it heals flawlessly and doesn't ever change. But there aren't many options for personally invested physical change.

Their hair and nails grow super fast.

Vampires usually have the hair color they have when they are turned but around 15% experience graying or whitening of their hair within a few days of turning. Due to a semi-common genetic string in humans.

Vampires don't tan. They burn. No matter what their skin color is. Most are the palest/pasty tone of their natural skin color merely due to anemia and lack of blood circulation.

They don't blush or show physical signs of fever.

Vampires don't sweat or flush when exerting or exercising. They don't have to regulate their body temperatures.

They get dry skin pretty often and it's important to combat it with baths and soaks and lotions/oils whenever possible.

They are usually a lukewarm body temperature. As low as 15°C|59°F to as much as 21°C|69.8°F.

Every vampire has a certain amount of charming allure to them. In whatever form or fashion suits them the best, it's a natural attractant to their human counterparts. A glint to their eyes, a certain smile, the pitch or timbre of their voice. Endearing, seductive, mysterious, whichever shines through in their personality. They are magnetic, attractive to the human eye, no matter what they tend to look like.

They can see themselves in aluminum coated mirrors. Just not silver.

Mental Effects

There is a staggering 95% probability that 'created' vampires will have amnesia unless turned by a pureblood/noble/king/queen/high ranking blood vampire. They remember nothing of their human lives and this is extremely common. It's actually very rare to remember anything prior to your awakening. (That's why there are usually strict laws about siring without consent and proof of consent.)

It is very easy for vampires to be blinded by fits of rage when starving for blood. They can fly into blind anger and attack people they normally wouldn't or even foes they have no chance of winning against. Depending on their remaining strength when this tipping point of starvation happens; it can be extremely dangerous to be around.

Most turned vampires suffer a psychotic break in their early turning years. (Between 6mo and up to 25 years of awakening age. I.e: from the date of being bitten.) The brain is the last thing to be altered in the physical process and because of this, it's believed that their mental state has to crumble to be built better. It's unknown as to exactly why this happens but it's almost guaranteed. It's the vampire equivalent of 'adolescence'.

Over 75% of vampires experience periodic depression and random bouts of sadness. Another 39% live with bouts of mild to moderate psychosis. (This has been suspected to happen because of the physical stasis and improper circulation of chemicals/hormones/exct. Many believe it's because of the guilt of their King, Caine.)

Mental illnesses that aren't born from physical imbalances are in cases of amnesia, cured. Those that are chemically related are usually worsened by the stagnant physical changes of vampirism. It's rare that those with amnesia remember their traumas or emotional upsets after turning.

The "amnesia" of turning is the death of a human psyche. With the staggering rate of permanent amnesia, it is hard to figure out exactly how it happens but it's widely known.

Society

Humans are not fully aware of vampires. This still rings true with the fear of world war and or wiping out the human race given their species.

There is a high society "government" type of monarchy. Each clan or type of vampires has a leader "elder". This is usually the oldest vampire to date of that specific type. Sometimes it's a group or a family of elders. In most modern day they have adapted to a more "presidential" route and have to establish themselves as leader types to be considered for any kind of law making or enforcement. (I.e: Noble bloodline, diligent efforts of servitude such as public service, military or other.)

There is a strict law against turning humans. Vampires are required to have clearly given consent and the process is to be looked over by an elder or enforcer. They must show strenuous documentation of that persons preservation in the name of probable amnesia. They must have a comprehensive processing of that persons interests, personality traits, societal standing, proof of occupational termination, familial status and situational agreement. (Basically they don't want humans forgetting their lives entirely and they want to make sure that they are able to move somewhere or hide from their families until they're well trained enough to be around them again. It's a very long to legally accomplish it.

Every city handles turning differently. Some require the sire to pay the death penalty and others are strictly against killing the one person responsible of their turned kindred.

Vampires are in every day jobs, doing anything and everything that humans do. From trash collecting, to law and doctors. Fame, fortune, poor, criminal; they all live as many walks of life as humans do.

Anti-vampire establishments are alive and well. Most are run by other vampires. Some humans share their beliefs but most typically it's a resounding amount of vampire extremists. This is legal due to the fact that they try to adhere and coexist for their sanctions ordinance. Helping enforce justice for their regions and implore an opposing force for rampaging vampires or other law breaking kindred.

Most human killings are covered up, tampered with or has someone on the inside working on doing both. It's a constant job but a needed one to keep their existence safe from being proven.

There is a massive shortage on vampire doctors serving other vampires or studying from what little information there is on vampirism. The ratio looking like 1 to 300. 1 doctor for every 300 vampires.

The most vampire dominated and lucrative occupations are generally law, publishing and sex working. There are 3 vampires with these jobs to every human worker.

Here is an additional post about how vampire blood would effect humans.

So that was everything I could think of for the time being. I may continue to edit and update this as I have time or I think of something that I haven't touched base on yet. But this is just the general lore I work with when I do write about vampires or when I think about them in general. Feel free to skip certain parts or like.. adapt it however you'd like. I made this to more so inspire people not to show a list of HOW things should go. Take of it what you like and ignore what you don't! Add more if you think of something!

Some of it gets a bit random but it's still things that I've either incorporated in some unpublished fics or talked about with some friends or just fantasized about in general. There's bits and pieces in all media for vampires that I really enjoy and I think every new style spins something different and makes for wonderful content!

#whump prompt #vampires #vampire prompt #whump list #character development #character reference #character sheet #vampire reference #character guide #vampire #vampire list #tw blood #tw violence #tw vampires #vlor

88 notes · View notes

contemplativepancakes · 4 years ago

Text

of stolen shirts and sorrow

4.5k hurt/comfort, happy ending. read on ao3 here.

Blood bubbles up between Geralt’s splayed fingers. He presses down as hard as he can without risking causing more damage. Jaskier moans faintly, and Geralt tries not to panic.

He fails.

It wasn’t supposed to be Jaskier that was in harm’s way, it was supposed to be him, should have been him lying on the ground with his blood seeping into the dirt, but they had been caught unaware, and there had barely been time for Geralt to unsheathe his sword before Jaskier had cried out beside him.

Jaskier had stayed standing long enough for Geralt to dispatch the werewolf with a vicious slice of his sword, blood spraying from its carotid as it fell to the ground and twitched. There wasn’t time for anything with more finesse. Geralt took a moment to feel sorrow that he had to kill it when his intention had been to come here to cure it, but it had been snarling and advancing towards Jaskier again, and Geralt couldn’t take any more chances.

Geralt whirled to Jaskier, and Jaskier dropped to the ground, sitting down hard and looking pale. Geralt’s eyes shot down to where he was clutching his stomach, blood dripping through his fingers and staining them red. Geralt whipped his head around to be sure there wasn’t anything else waiting for him to drop his guard before he sank to his knees beside Jaskier, helping him lie back.

Now, Geralt takes a deep breath, trying to center himself, before scrabbling at Jaskier’s clothes, ripping his shirt open so that he can better assess the damage, and he can almost hear Jaskier making a quip about it, pouting that he liked that shirt, Geralt! But Geralt’s not sure that he’s ever going to be hearing Jaskier’s voice again, because the wound is even more severe than he thought now that he’s looking at Jaskier’s bare torso.

A grunt comes from Jaskier again, determined to prove Geralt wrong even with the color starting to drain from his lips, and Geralt’s mind races, thinking about how he’s ever going to fix this. This is too much for him to solve alone, he thinks. He eyes the growing pool of blood worriedly, knowing how much blood someone can lose before they teeter off the cliff of no return, and Jaskier is closer than Geralt would like to admit. There’s no sign of the bleeding stopping anytime soon, so he further rips Jaskier’s shirt into wide strips to tie around the wound, hoping it’ll help staunch the bleeding.

He bites his lip and picks Jaskier up, hoping he’s making the right choice, and not one he’s going to regret while staring at a tombstone, but Geralt tries to block out the worry. Jaskier needs him right now, and Geralt has to focus on that.

He clicks his tongue, and Roach approaches him skittishly. Geralt drapes Jaskier over her rump, settling him so he won’t fall off or be jostled too much, because Geralt knows that is the last thing he needs right now. He wants to mount Roach and gallop away to help, but he has to go about this the right way. If he’s not fast enough, Jaskier will die, and if he’s too fast and Jaskier’s wound doesn’t manage to start to clot, he’ll die, too. Geralt takes a deep breath and absent mindedly runs his bloody hand through his hair, taking Roach’s reins in hand and leading her along the path at a fast walk. They’re close to the outskirts of Temeria; the proximity of the werewolf being why there was a contract in the first place.

It had been killing a farmer’s sheep, but Geralt regrets coming here in the first place. Farm animals were certainly not a fair trade for Jaskier, who’s cool and clammy to Geralt’s touch, his breath coming in rapid wheezes.

Geralt speeds his pace.

By the time he makes it to the walls of Temeria and shouts to the guards that he needs help, he needs their mage, Jaskier’s face is white and bloody covers Roach’s flank. It seems like the bleeding has slowed, so Geralt allows himself to take heart. “Go!” he shouts at the guard closest to him, who’s just standing there and staring uselessly.

The boy startles, because now that Geralt has taken a closer look, he can see that that’s what he is, a boy, and he’s probably never seen this much blood before. He turns on his heel and runs, and Geralt desperately hopes it’s for help and not to flee.

Geralt lifts Jaskier gently from Roach, who’s now prancing anxiously, and sets him flat on the ground. He takes a second to stroke Roach and murmur reassurances, and she settles a bit before he turns his attention back to Jaskier. He presses his hands over his hasty bandage, reapplying the pressure. He hears shouts in the distance, and he hopes Triss is on the way with her potions.

He looks back down at Jaskier, who has blood that’s starting to trickle out his mouth. He makes a wet gurgling noise, and Geralt wishes he could do more. All of his elixirs would be toxic to Jaskier and only make things worse, and he desperately hopes the metaphor doesn’t extend to himself, even though he thinks it does.

This never would have happened if Jaskier wasn’t with him. Geralt had argued with him, said werewolves were unpredictable, but Jaskier said he would be fine at their camp, thank you very much. Geralt could go and try to shove the potion down the werewolf’s jaws, and Jaskier would work on his latest ballad.

Jaskier had cut off his protests with a kiss, and Geralt found himself powerless in the face of that. The tangled threads between them had become even more twisted in the last month, with Jaskier finally getting fed up with Geralt and calling him an idiot before pulling him in and kissing him.

Geralt had been shocked. He had never dared to hope that Jaskier would ever return Geralt’s feelings, because who would love a mutant, but Jaskier had said that he’d say it however many times Geralt needed to hear it.

And now he might not ever hear it again.

All of a sudden, there are soft hands pushing Geralt out of the way, and Geralt resists until he realizes that it’s Triss, here to help Jaskier. Geralt slumps in relief and backs away, watches Triss hover her hands above the wound and pull small glass bottles from her satchel. He wraps a hand around his medallion, vibrating as Triss begins her work. He looks on helplessly while she mutters incantations and pours the contents of her bottles on the would until she takes a step back after what seems like an eternity. Jaskier’s breaths seem to be coming a bit easier. There’s no bloody foam around his mouth anymore, at least, so Geralt will take it.

“That should stop the bleeding and stabilize him for now. Let’s get him out of the street,” Triss says, pointing to the cart she arrived on.

Geralt swallows hard and leans down, pushing some of Jaskier’s soft hair off his sweaty forehead before gathering Jaskier in his arms and lifting him into the cart, settling him on the straw. Geralt climbs in after him, sitting down and ignoring the way the straw scratches at his skin. Jaskier moans and clutches at Geralt’s hand.

Geralt’s heart clenches. “Hey,” he says, uncharacteristically soft, “it’s okay, all right?”

Jaskier squeezes his hand weakly. Geralt raises their linked hands to his mouth and kisses Jaskier’s knuckles. “You’re going to be fine.”

Geralt looks towards the front of the cart, and Triss jerks in her seat, caught staring. “I’m going to take care of him for you, Geralt,” she says softly.

The words get stuck in Geralt’s throat. He grunts and runs a hand down his face. Damn it. This is all his fault.

“What happened?” she asks.

“We were… fuck, we were trying to cure a werewolf. I should have never let him come with me, but I was going to make him stay well away from its hunting grounds, and it was supposed to be fine.” Geralt waves his hand, his eyes catching on the blood caked underneath his fingernails. “It was supposed to be fine,” he repeats helplessly.

Triss puts a hand on his shoulder, and Geralt lets himself draw comfort from the touch. His heartbeat has finally started to slow again, but he can still smell the sour scent of his own distress, mixed with the metallic tang of blood. He slumps against the side of the cart.

By the time they make it to the castle, Geralt’s adrenaline is starting to crash, but he still gathers Jaskier in his arms again and carries him where Triss directs. He waves off the offers of help; his clothes are already bloody, anyway, no one else needs to ruin theirs.

He carries Jaskier up a spiral staircase before he reaches Triss’s chambers and settles Jaskier on the bed. “Can you undress him for me?” Triss asks, as she bustles around behind Geralt, her fingers flying as she mixes herbs and other ingredients together.

Geralt swallows hard. His fingers hover over the buttons of Jaskier’s shirt, but it feels wrong. They haven’t got this far yet, and Geralt doesn’t want this moment to be the one he associates with shedding Jaskier of his clothes.

He sighs and takes Jaskier’s shirt off, pinching the bloody thing between his fingers and letting it crumple to the ground. He’s going to burn it, if Jaskier lets him. Well, even if he doesn’t. Geralt doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to see it again without flinching, no matter how well of a repair job Jaskier does.

He undoes the laces of Jaskier’s trousers, so Triss can take a look at where the wound extends down his torso, but it stops at his waist, so that’s as far as Geralt goes. Triss hums her thanks as she starts to gently rub a poultice over the wound. “This will lessen the pain and keep him unconscious until his body regenerates enough blood,” she explains.

“How long will that be?” Geralt asks, resolutely not giving into the urge to fidget.

“A few days. Maybe a week. You’re lucky you got him here when you did.”

Geralt lets out a heavy breath through his nose. All his fault. “Hmm.”

Triss straightens up. “He’s going to be fine, Geralt. The wonders of magic, huh?” She nudges his shoulder. “He just needs rest, now.”

Triss leaves them, and Geralt takes a seat by the bed, looking over at Jaskier’s motionless body, save for the slight rise and fall of his bare chest. Geralt runs his fingers down Jaskier’s chest curiously, before jerking away like he’s been burned. He’d always wanted to know what Jaskier’s chest hair would feel like under his fingertips, but this isn’t how he wanted to find out.

Jaskier might have expressed his enthusiastic support for the idea of them while he was still able to walk and talk, but Geralt thinks he might have changed his tune by now. Why would he want to be around Geralt when all Geralt’s brought him is suffering and pain?

Jaskier could have had a very comfortable life by now, but instead he insists on traipsing around after Geralt. And look where it’s gotten him.

Geralt stands up, thinking very hard. His eyes drift to Jaskier’s ruined shirt on the floor, but he lets it lie. It’s unfair of him to do this to Jaskier. He’s keeping Jaskier in a sort of limbo, stopping him from having the normal life that he deserves. Jaskier should have someone who can take care of him better than Geralt. Geralt’s been doing a piss poor job of it so far.

Geralt steps towards the doorway before hesitating. This is for the best, but… He’d like a reminder of this, something he can look back on and remember just how full his life was, once. He remembers what it was like before Jaskier came along, and it’s almost unbearable to think of going back to that, but he has to. For Jaskier’s sake. What if the next time he dies? Geralt wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

Geralt steps towards Jaskier’s pack, which has somehow migrated here. He supposes Triss brought it; she’s good for things like that. He digs through it until he finds a doublet that Jaskier doesn’t wear very often but is Geralt’s personal favorite. Geralt reasons that it’s the tales of his adventures that paid for the shirt, anyway, so really, Jaskier owes him this one small thing.

Geralt brings it up to his nose. It smells like Jaskier.

When Jaskier wakes, he’s alone. He tries to sit up, but there’s a sharp pain in his side that feels like someone tried to carve out his spleen. It gets even worse when the door opens, and there’s no sign of Geralt, just a woman he doesn’t know. Generally speaking, these sorts of things don’t tend to work out for him.

“Where’s Geralt?” he croaks, and it comes out as an accusation.

She casts her eyes upward, before looking back down at Jaskier. “He left.”

“What? Without me? Why? When is he coming back?” The questions bubble out of him without his permission.

The woman hesitates. “I… don’t know.”

“Come, he surely must have said something.”

“Geralt? Say something?” She gives him a wry grin.

Jaskier shakes his head. She’s right. “He didn’t say anything about returning?” he asks again, just to be sure before his heart sinks all the way to his feet.

She shakes her head.

This is all Jaskier’s fault. If he never would have gotten hurt, they would have still been travelling together, and Geralt wouldn’t have thought he was too much of a burden to drag along any longer. Melitele's tits. What is he going to do now?

Geralt scuffs his boot against a tree trunk while Roach looks on disapprovingly. “I know, I know,” he grumbles. “You miss him. But this is for the best.”

He’s not sure who needs more convincing: him or Roach.

He putters around, setting up his camp for the night and trying not to think of what Jaskier is doing now. His brain decides to seize on the werewolf instead, and Geralt sighs, sitting down heavily with his back against the tree. The bark is scratchy, and there’s a stone digging into his ass, but he doesn’t move. It’s just the start of what he deserves, anyway.

The werewolf should have been cured, it should have been them that Geralt rushed to town for care, not Jaskier. But now, because of his ineptitude, the werewolf is dead, and Jaskier almost died. The cure that sits in his satchel mocks him. He had mixed it together hopefully, with the best intentions, but it was worth fuck all in the end.

Roach paws at the ground, and Geralt knows his distress is making her nervous, but he just doesn’t have the energy to sort out his feelings right now. He pulls his cloak over his head and tries to sleep.

He’s unsuccessful, of course. His thoughts won’t stop stampeding through his head, and his ears are picking up on every sound of the night. This is one of the times when Jaskier would do his best to distract him.

They’d barely been together for a month before it all went awry, and this, this is why Geralt doesn’t get close to people. There’s nothing but misery in his future, and he dragged Jaskier into it.

Geralt smells a storm on the horizon, and he sighs. Typical.

Jaskier watches the rain outside, running his fingers over the droplets that race down the window. Triss had left him a few hours ago, telling him he could stay until he felt fully healed. He traces his fingertips over the wound; it’s hard to believe that it was life threatening with how well it’s looking now. Pink and tender to the touch, but a far cry from gushing blood like Triss had told him it was.

Triss had also told him that he woke up not fours hours after Geralt dumped him on her and fled. Triss didn’t put it like that, of course, but Jaskier can read through the lines well enough. He racks his brain back to the last thing he remembers. He can dimly recall teasing Geralt, sneaking Roach a sugar cube, and then things start to get blurry. There was a...snarl? He knows they were looking for a werewolf, but Jaskier wasn’t supposed to get anywhere close to it in the first place.

No wonder Geralt didn’t want him slowing him down anymore, if Jaskier’s intestines are just going to spill out of him at the first sign of danger. His side throbs at the reminder, and Jaskier gets up to rustle through his pack and find a shirt so he can cover his wound.

He’s looking for a particular shirt, one Geralt had always liked, because Jaskier’s not above a bit of self-flagellation when a breakup is still so fresh, but he can’t find it. Great. He had always saved it for special occasions, because life on the road tended to not be great for the longevity of his clothing, and now he’s gone and lost it.

It’s probably for the best anyway. He doesn’t need to dwell on the memories. But, it’s too soon for him to completely move on. Heartbreak is the best muse, and all that.

Jaskier unties his bundle of parchment and pulls out a clean sheet, along with his quill and inkwell. He dips his quill in ink, but no words come. He wants to write something scathing about Geralt, for leaving him behind like he’s worth nothing at all, but the lyrics don’t come as easily as the other ballads he’s written singing Geralt’s praise.

Jaskier stares at the page for a few more minutes, but all he manages to write is The. He scratches it out and sighs, pushing his paper aside.

Geralt drums his fingers and looks skeptically at the paper that’s just been slapped in front of him.

“There’s a pack of ghouls, right along the path to town. We’ve lost two supply wagons trying to pass through already!” the man tells him.

Geralt looks up at him, raising his eyebrows. “How do you know they didn’t just pocket your coin and disappear?”

The man throws up his hands in exasperation. “Are you going to take the job or not, Witcher?”

“Fine. I’ll look into it.”

In the end, it turns out not to be ghouls, but a graveir. Similar to ghouls, but larger, nastier, and venomous. Geralt rustles through his satchel, looking for the elixir that will cure it. He was off balance and too slow the entire fight, and now he’s paying for it. Geralt downs the elixir and yanks his fingers through his hair, trying to get rid of some of the guts. He attempts not to think of Jaskier.

When he makes it back to the inn where he’s staying, he takes a bath before he makes his way outside to the stables to check on Roach. He gives her a solid pat along her flank before he rustles through her saddle bags, where Jaskier’s shirt lives.

He brings it up to his nose. It smells like both of them, and now Geralt finally knows what it would have smelled like if he had let Jaskier get close enough for the scents to meld together. They’d been on their way there, for sure, but Geralt had had too many hang ups for it to truly go anywhere in the short amount of time they had where they both knew how the other felt before it all went to shit.

He takes it back up to his room and puts it beside his pillow, letting the scent soothe him to sleep.

Jaskier looks down at the ruined shirt in his hands. Money has been tight since Geralt left and all Jaskier’s inspiration followed him. He hasn’t written any new songs in months, and he thinks the crowds can pick up on his melancholia no matter how many cheerful songs he performs, because his takes have been pitiful. He supposes part of the problem might be the fact that he refuses to sing about Geralt, and those had always been his most well liked songs. Jaskier always skirts around any requests for them.

He scrubs at the shirt, trying to get the last traces of blood out of it. Once he’s successful, he pulls out his needle and thread. It’s so tattered that he’s going to have to patch it, but he’s always been good at starting new fashion statements. He replaces the ripped off buttons and pokes his tongue between his teeth as he selects the fabric for the patch.

Geralt’s not sure how much time passes before he allows himself to bring the shirt out again. Time seems meaningless, and he’s taken as many contracts as possible, trying to keep busy. Roach hasn’t been happy with him, and he knows he should let her rest, so that’s why he’s packed it in for the night. The break will do him good, as well, he supposes. Assuming he can actually manage to fall asleep, which is by no means assured.

He stares out at the swamp for an hour before he breaks down and pulls out the shirt. He takes a deep sniff. It smells like him. Only him. He flings it back down in disgust.

He gets up and pauses for a second before stooping down to pick up the shirt and stuff it back in the saddlebag. He ignores Roach’s snorts of displeasure as he gets her ready to move on.

Jaskier walks along the road, trying not to cough as carriages pass him, kicking up dust in their wake. It’s not good for his vocal cords, but he hasn’t been doing much singing at all, these days, so he doesn’t let himself worry about it.

He trudges along, lyrics swirling through his mind, but the urge to stop and write them down doesn’t come to him. His toes throb from where they’re trapped in his shoes, adding to his body’s cacophony of complaints against him. He’s not sure what the next town is, but he’s more than ready to arrive.

Jaskier squints into the distance as he sees a bit of dust somewhere farther down the path. It’s moving towards him, but it’s not big enough for a caravan or even a singular carriage. It’s someone else walking alone, and Jaskier’s immediately put on guard.

His hand slips into his pocket, where he keeps his knife. He keeps his hand on it as he’s just able to make it the outline of a person dressed in all black in the distance. It feels like someone’s turned his knife on himself as it makes him think of Geralt.

The person is leading a horse, and Jaskier’s breath catches in his throat.

It can’t be… but as he gets closer, Jaskier can tell it is. He smooths his hands down his clothes uselessly and resists the urge to tame his hair into something that doesn’t look like a squirrel’s den.

He debates what to do. Geralt’s the one who left, so he must not want to see Jaskier, must be upset at this unhappy little coincidence, even if Jaskier is desperate for any sight of Geralt he can get.

Jaskier’s set to walk past him, his eyes on his feet, just a fleeting glimpse up to satisfy his curiosity—it’s plausible to say he didn’t recognize Geralt, right?—when a hand lands on his elbow.

“Why in the fuck are you wearing that shirt?” Geralt asks, and it’s such an odd question that it stops Jaskier in his tracks.

“What?” He looks down at himself.

He’s wearing the shirt he patched, and he huffs in offense. He thought he did a fine repair job. He shoulders Geralt out of the way and keeps walking.

“Wait, Jaskier,” Geralt says, and it’s the closest to a plea he’s ever heard Geralt get. He stops.

“How are you?” Geralt breathes.

Jaskier just stares at him in confusion. He’s not sure what Geralt’s aim is. How is he? “How do you think I am?” he snaps.

Geralt looks cowed, and Jaskier feels bad for a fleeting moment before he remembers Geralt is the one who should be contrite. It was Geralt who left him high and dry when he needed him most.

Geralt swallows hard, and Jaskier follows his line of sight to see that Geralt’s focused on where the scar in his side is.

He lifts up his shirt so Geralt can see, forgetting to be angry for a second. “It’s healed up very nicely, if I do say so myself.”

Jaskier looks back at Geralt, but Geralt’s just staring at the scar with a haunted look. “I’m fine, Geralt,” he says in exasperation. “If it wasn’t for you, I would have been dead.”

“If it wasn’t for me, you would never have been in that situation in the first place.”

A realization starts to dawn on Jaskier. “Did you—is that why you left?”

Geralt glances down.

“Geralt, if it wasn’t for you, a cuckolded husband would have most definitely done me in before then.”

“But—”

“I’m serious,” Jaskier says, putting his hands on his hips. “You don’t get to make choices like that for me. We make them together, okay? I’ve been miserable.”

“Me, too,” Geralt grumbles, and Jaskier’s surprised at the admission.

“Good. I’m glad that’s settled, then. You didn’t have to drag it out for so long, you know.”

It seems like Jaskier shouldn’t be letting Geralt off the hook this easily, but he’s been nothing but desolate since Geralt left. He’s sick of waiting.

His magnanimity only extends so far, though, so Jaskier brushes past Geralt to pet Roach, trying to contain his smirk at the look on Geralt’s face. Jaskier pets the soft velvet of Roach’s nose, and she bumps his hand when he stops.

He rustles around in Roach’s saddlebags, looking for a treat for her. His hand brushes past some soft fabric. That’s odd; Geralt doesn’t keep any of his clothes in this saddle bag. He pulls it out, gaping at what’s in his hand. “What’s this?”

Geralt scratches the back of his neck. “I wanted a reminder of you,” he admits in a small voice.

Jaskier’s grin turns smug. Geralt was always saying how impractical his clothing was. “I thought my shirts were foolish?”

If Jaskier didn’t know better, he’d say there’s a blush on Geralt’s cheeks right now. “I never said that.”

“You absolutely did. Do you take it back?”

Geralt grunts, stepping into Jaskier’s space and wrapping him in a hug. “No.”

Jaskier pouts, and the resulting laughter from Geralt is something that he wants to keep hearing for the rest of his life. He hopes Geralt gives him the chance.

thank you @witcher-and-his-bard for the idea and the read over! <3 it is definitely your fault that this got so angsty, i take no responsibility

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geraskier #geraskier ficlet #contemplative writing

431 notes · View notes

willadisastercry · 4 years ago

Text

Sleep deprived Keith annoying the crap out of the other paladins before crashing

Tw: depiction of sleep deprivation, insomnia, needles.

Keith has trouble sleeping sometimes... but this is a new level for him. His teammates can’t remember the last time he looked well slept and neither can he. They also don’t remember him being this hyper or social with them, like literally ever.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Shiro so annoyed,” Lance whispered over a crouched Pidge as they peered around the corner into the control room.

Keith was hovering around Shiro as he typed away on the panel in front of him, working out the strategy for their next mission.

“Well, if you really think about it, the Galra are kind of like space Russia, they have a lot of real estate, the people are really tall, and—hey, wait why wouldn’t we infiltrate the loading dock first? That’s the most reliable route because the lions won’t be far, we can just cloak them ya know, like all stealth? and if we go in where...”

“I think his mouth is twitching, watch. There it is, it did it again!” Pidge pointed out, her eyes wide in amazement.

The older boy’s mouth was indeed twitching, the corner pulling up like he wanted to say something as well as drop someone, but he refrained from both.

“I think I would’ve punted Keith across the room by now... do you think Shiro meditates, he must meditate, ya know? He’s always so calm and reasonable, always telling us that we have to breathe and whatever, no one can possibly be that zen without—“

But before Lance could finish his analysis on Shiro’s freak ability to be so zen, the basis of his argument shattered with an explosion from their team leader.

“I can’t even hear myself think, Keith!” Shiro started, a vein very visibly pumping away on his forehead as his face took on a dark flush.

“I have been watching the same surveillance loop for five minutes now beccause I can’t focus with you rambling in my ear!”

The red paladin’s face fell, his antsy pacing halted and his hands tapping his side like he was anticipating something. He took a breath. He hadn’t realized he’d started trembling.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—fuck,” Keith said before turning away, “I’ll leave you alone.”

Lance and Pidge nearly toppled over with how aggressively they flung themselves away from where they had been perched while they eavesdropped. Mostly out of curiosity at how Shiro would handle a manic-ly energetic Keith.

They could hear Shiro cursing under his breath, then ushering an apology for being so harsh but Keith likely didn’t hear it as he hightailed it out of there. He moved so quickly he didn’t even notice the pair as they stood planted in the center of the hallway failing to feign even the slightest of nonchalance.

Shiro ducked his head out to find that Keith had already disappeared and became wildly flustered when he found the very guilty-looking pair instead.

“Uhuh,” he cleared his throat, “do you guys know what’s going on with Keith? I didn’t mean to be such a dick, but he’s like next level tweaking out and I have no idea why...”

“Uh, we’re not sure either,” Pidge replied, “but he’s been like this all morning.”

“Yeah, he made Coran snap and crack a crystal in half earlier...”

“Oooo and Allura stained her dress when he wouldn’t shut up about how human mice carry infection and probably shouldn’t be near food and then she like flung her coffee...”

“And poor Hunk was trying to entertain his ramblings about the how hard it is to attain cinnamon in space and that it should be rationed and ended up burning a whole batch of snickerdoodles...”

“He was bouncing off the walls, it was weird” Pidge resolved. “And Keith never has that much energy.”

“Yeah, he’s been rambling, that’s my thing! The kid hardly says more than five words in one sentence and now he can’t shut up,” Lance added, scratching his head.

“Okay,” Shiro looked like he was running over in his head a million possibilities of what could be wrong, “will you two go check on him for me... and let him know I didn’t mean to yell at him?”

“Of course.”

“We’ll let you know if we figure it out,” Lance promised before they started after their friend.

They checked the common room first as it was the next room on their way and found only a grumpy Hunk scraping the singed bits off of the plate of cookies in front of him.

“D’you see Keith?” Pidge asked, surveying the sight before her.

“No,” he gruffed sadly, taking a bite of one of the cookies and breaking it off with a loud snap.

“Okay, keep an eye out, we think something’s wrong...” Lance looked around, “I know where he might’ve gone but we have to grab something first, let’s go.”

They took off at an urgent trot, once again more out of curiosity than concern because this just didn’t occur. Keith is a guy of few words, so when he speaks it’s usually sarcasm, not a rapid flurry of silly questions that seem more like the goofy blue paladin than the tempered red. This was weird for him. And they just wanted to know why.

But their curiosity changed quickly into fear as soon as they entered the hallway of the training room because they could hear the intense whir of the simulator working. From down the hall.

“Shit Keith,” Lance said activating their bayards they stopped to pick up on the way.

“He’s got it on the highest setting—not even Shiro can handle that intensity solo,” Pidge noted as they raced for the door.

“This kid’s got a death wish,” Lance deadpanned as he wrenched the doors of the training room open, only to be immediately met with Keith’s strangled scream as his head snapped against the floor with a sickening crack, the sentry that threw him across the room quickly closing the distance between them.

Lance ran forward and knelt down, slowly lining up shots and taking down the new sentries as soon as they regenerated while Pidge made her way to the kill switch.

By the time she got to the lever and tugged it all the way down Keith was dangling from his twisted arm and throat, shuddering gasps the only noise he was able to make in protest.

Lance had just taken out the second sentry cornering Keith with a head shot when every robot assailant powered down at once, the one choking Keith releasing his grip on his throat first, his arm pulling at an awkward angle as he fell before it was released. The pale boy let out a shrill gush before clamping his lips together tightly and pulling his slumped form up with the help of the wall.

“What the fuck was that, mullet?!”

He refused to make eye contact with his worried friends as he went to storm out like before, but this time he moved slowly, gingerly.

“I needed a good workout... to clear my head,” was all he managed. They could tell he didn’t want to let on that he was in pain, but the way he grimaced when his arm swung as he walked as well as the obvious bump protruding from his shoulder where no bone should be told them otherwise.

“Oh, that’s a load! That was not a good workout, that was a good ass-whooping! And I’m not entirely sure there’s anything left in your head to clear after the way it smacked the—“

“You’re hurt,” Pidge blurted. “The sentry dislocated your shoulder, I’m staring at the head of your right humerus and I shouldn’t be able to do that...”

“Oh... huh,” was all the mind he seemed willing to pay to his injury, his eyes bleary and wider than usual as he continued to walk away from them, but they persisted.

“We’re taking you to get that checked out by Coran. Right now,” Lance ordered.

“I’m good,” he assured, shouldering the door with his other arm.

Lance reached the door handle first and pulled on it, keeping Keith from going anywhere and spurring a low groan when his bad shoulder was jolted.

“Lance...”

He looked so tired.

He closed his eyes and continued to lean heavily into the hulking door of the training room. Under the bright artificial lights his skin looked greyer than it usually did, every bone in his face sickly accentuated and sharpened, the staple bags underneath his eyes hanging heavier than ever.

“Keith, you’re hurt and something else is obviously wrong so NO, we’re not letting you storm off to go pout to maintain your stup—“

“Shut up—“

Keith’s vision tunneled, his eyes fixed in a clearly unfocused haze as he stared at nothing.

“What?” Lance questioned, very caught off guard by the sudden interjection.

“I s-said shut u-up,” he whispered as he sucked in a shuddering breath.

The shrillness of Lance’s chastisement made his head swim and he blinked away the haze that came with the sudden levity.

“Hey, take it easy...”

It seemed the more he tried to control the tremor in his voice the worse his entire body seemed to shake.

He was fading; he could feel it.

The exhaustion had given way to anxiety as the adrenaline dripped dry allowing him to fully feel the pain in his shoulder as it pulsed angrily.

It was like the tide was washing out, the tumultuous waves of the storm that settled itself in his chest receding just before the next wave surged, and then he could feel everything he’d been ignoring.

Every individual bone seemed to ache with weariness and the pressure behind his tired eyes was so immense that it made him unsteady.

“Woah, what’s going on man?”

The floor suddenly seemed to shift beneath him, like he was walking on one of those moving conveyer belts in the airport that made your feet feel weird once you were back on solid ground.

“I think you should sit down,” Pidge urged, tugging worriedly at the hem of his shirt.

As much as his pride wanted him to protest he couldn’t seem to muster enough energy to even disagree let alone have a shred of cofidence that he could possibly get himself back to his room on his own.

They seemed to understand by his silence that he wouldn’t push away their help now and then he could feel firm hands on his good shoulder and back, guiding his trembling frame down to the floor where he came to rest his head on the knee that wasn’t bouncing.

“Where you at, mullet?”

The tinier hand had never left the middle of his back and rubbed soothing circles on the tense muscles beneath it.

“Can you tell us what you feel like right now?” Pidge asked before moving a hand to steady his restless leg.

He took a strained breath.

“D-dizzy... c-cold maybe, I-I don’t know why I can’t stop s-shaking.”

“That’s okay, don’t worry about that.”

“Here, this’ll help,” Lance added as he draped his jacket over Keith’s back, careful to not have it touch his injury.

“How’s your shoulder? Is anything else hurting?”

Keith thought about it for a solid minute, finding it sort of difficult to organize his thoughts and give Pidge an answer.

“Hurts a lot. S-so does my head... I have a headache—maybe... maybe a migraine I d-don’t know.”

“Is that what was bothering you before? The lights are pretty bright in here so that’s probably not helping... why don’t we start heading to the infirmary, before it gets worse?”

He nodded slowly against his knee and lifted his head up, his eyes still pressed together tightly. He pried one open to test his head but the swirling nausea and general agony that followed was answer enough.

“You don’t have to keep them open if it hurts.”

He hummed in acknowledgment and steeled himself as they took up his good arm and pulled him to his feet then waited for him to give the go ahead before making their way.

It was almost worse when his eyes were closed. The pounding in his head had only increased while they guided him, each step rattling his brain around so painfully that it almost distracted him from the instense heat in his shoulder.

He didn’t know why his head hurt so bad and why it was making his eyes so sensitive. He knew he’d hid it, but not hard enough to warrant this. He was also really tired, practically jumping out of his skin every few moments when he let his head tip forward slightly as if to nod off, which was entirely strange and alarming seeing as he was so drowsy he almost fell asleep while still walking.

He hadn’t noticed when they made it to the infirmary, only realizing when he was being pushed to sit down on something and a light was being shone across his now opened eyes.

“No! Oh-ouch,” he inhaled sharply when the light retreated and he was left seeing a blurred strip of bright white across his field of vision.

“I apologize, my boy, it had to be done. No concussion though! We have dimmed the lights for your comfort, the aversion is most peculiar given your injuries... “

He proded Keith’s shoulder blade and the inflamed area around it, earning a hiss when he tested the dexterity of the limb.

“The scanner detects significant ligament damage that will need to be corrected in a pod after I er... set the joint in its proper place. It will hurt for only a tick and I have several nerve blockers and muscle relaxers I can inject in the area to make the process less painful. Does that sound manageable to—“

But Coran didn’t get to hear Keith’s answer, the way his face greened and he clamped a hand over mouth was telling enough. He bit back a sob as he lurched forward, not enough time or notice for anyone to prepare before Keith was dry heaving, but they didn’t really need to worry because nothing but saliva came up.

“Were you at all ill before this today? This is the first time you’ve been sick to your stomach... when was the last time you ate?”

Silence only followed for a dobash before all three launched into different themes of admonition, but they all had the same anger to them. He knew they meant well, that they were just worried, but the bite to their words made his eyes sting like hell and he was seriously worried he wouldn’t be able to keep the tears at bay before Shiro was there telling them to be quiet.

He turned his head away and tried to breathe normally, but his chest was working up and his head throbbed pitifully and the movement made the burning in his shoulder deepen to where he had to hold his breath to keep from aggravating it. But Shiro’s warm, human hand was pulling his face towards his own, his eyes taking in Keith’s form and coming to several conclusions at once, the tension everywhere, the darkness under his eyes, the tightness in his jaw, the way his hands shook entwined about themselves...

“Keith,” his voice was so low and warm, he felt his chest pang at the gentleness in it. He closed his eyes, he knew what was coming next and he was both relieved and terrified for it.

“When was the last time you got a solid night’s sleep?”

He waited, even though they both already knew the answer and then it was when his hand moved to cup the top of his head that he finally broke. He didn’t need to speak for Shiro to know the answer.

Too long. It had been entirely too long since Keith could remember going to bed and waking up refreshed, each night only more frustrating than the last as he laid his head on his pillow and closed his eyes, knowing full well it wouldn’t work. Nothing did.

This week had been too much though. Running on empty on far too many missions followed by a dozen insomnia-induced late night training sessions trying to tire himself out in order to snag only a few hours of rest.

He’d just kept excerting himself and not ever properly recharging, but not on purpose, he physically couldn’t.

That part wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t help that, but he could let people know he was struggling and he had purposefully not alerted Shiro.

“Shit, Keith,” Shiro murmured with Keith’s forehead on his chest as he held back the sound of his crying, “you have to tell me when it gets bad like this! It’s not safe for you to be fighting and training when you’re not properly rested, you know that...”

Coran resumed analyzing his shoulder.

“And now you’re hurt because I snapped at you—Keith, I’m so sorry, I should’ve realized...”

“D-dont,” he managed through stiff breaths as Coran worked his bad arm gently out of his shirt, “s’not your fault, never is.”

Shiro set his jaw and eyed Coran who looked at him sadly and nodded.

“This conversation is far from over, but we have to get that shoulder fixed right now.”

Coran asked Pidge to gather some supplies and Lance to help him brace Keith.

“You’ll feel a small pinch in your arm now.”

He did. The area felt cold with the liquid that was now under his skin and Coran rubbed it for a minute before moving near his collarbone.

“This one might burn, but you’ll find it entirely numb in a dobash.”

This one was quicker, less to inject, longer to rub in so it spread. It burned and itched, earning a groan before he felt less of Coran’s fingers and more of just pressure.

“Oh, that’s... better.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

He felt someone kneeling behind him holding just below his shoulder and around his chest. Someone else was in front of him holding his arm up with their hand on his other shoulder, Shiro’s hands on his shaking one.

“Now I trust you’re familiar with what is about to happen, do you want me to explain what I am doing or—“

“Don’t explain, just—“

The pain that exploded with the hollow pop that followed was even grosser than the sound itself. Keith’s vision whited for a second and he was immediately ashen and panting as his body worked through the shock of the correction, his ears rang and so he wasn’t sure if he had screamed or not but with the way his throat ached he’d assumed he had.

Exhaustion weighed on him like a sopping wet blanket, making it difficult to keep his head up let alone his entire upper body. He wasn’t sure how long he had been leaned against Shiro’s chest once he started coming back to himself and realized he was the only thing keeping him upright.

Something was compressing his shoulder, pulling in places he didn’t quite like as it was wrapped tightly around the still damaged joint, making its way around his chest and back several times. Shiro held him away for a moment while something fell around his neck that held his arm against his chest and had an attachment to secure it to his side.

He tried to open his eyes and see what was going on but they were so very heavy and he was in awe of how he wasn’t entirely asleep by now, almost thankful for the steady ache behind his eyes as it was forcing him to keep them closed.

“You still there, Keith?”

He hummed into Shiro’s shirt in response.

“Hey, so we’re going to forgo the pod to repair all the torn ligaments for a little while. Coran thinks it’s best that you catch up on your sleep without the being frozen part... we’ll see how you’re feeling tomorrow, does that sound alright to you?”

It sounded superb to him. Truly.

He wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline crash or the general daze from sleep deprivation, but he was entirely checked out. Sufficiently out of it to care much about anything other than Coran’s lovely altean painkillers and the comfy pillow his head was now resting on.

Once he was laid down he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness almost immediately, the last thing he knew before he was consumed in bliss was the blanket that was being pulled up to his chest and Shiro calming words.

“Rest, buddy.”

And he finally did because now he actually could.

He wasn’t sure if it was the level of exhaustion he’d brought himself to or the threat of pain when he awoke, but whatever it was keeping him asleep he was grateful for it. Coran never even had to administer a sedative to keep him down during the night, just pain killers so he wouldn’t be woken up by his shoulder.

He slept for a day and a half after that, everyone taking turns watching over him while he slept so Shiro didn’t bring upon himself a similar fate.

The next time he was conscious coming deep into the next night, nearly early morning. Shiro stirred in the chair he was posted up in when Keith groaned and tried to turn over but cried out instead.

“Crap, what—hey... you’re okay,” Shiro soothed as he held Keith’s searching hand away from the thick layer of bandages covering his shoulder.

“It hurts, Shiro! It h-hurts!”

“I know, Keith, I know it hurts.”

Shiro sounded sad, Keith didn’t want to make him sad.

“I’m sorry...”

“You don’t need to be sorry for anything, bud.”

“I was stupid, I shoulda t-told you—just didn’t want you to worry.”

“I’m always going to worry about you, Keith. All of us are going to worry until you stop giving us reasons to,” he laughed weakly as he ran his hand through Keith’s hair while his breathing returned to normal.

“And until then, we’ll be here to make sure you don’t get pulverized by the training simulators and aren’t walking around delirious from not having slept in a week, okay?”

“Aha, yeah... okay.”

He tried to doze off again, but the steady pulse of pain in his shoulder seemed to prevent it. After an hour of trying, Shiro called Coran in who agreed it was also time to go into a pod.

“You will feel as good as new in no time, number four.”

Keith nodded absently as he rested his head back against the cushion in the cryopod before its doors closed with a whoosh and then cold surrounded him, lulling him off into another much needed sleep.

#keith whump #whumpee #vld #voltron whump #voltron fic #whump tropes #keith kogane #voltron fandom #keith angst #sleep deprived af #vld shiro #takashi shirogane #vld lance #vld pidge #worried teammates #keith needs a nap

73 notes · View notes

heliosthegriffin · 4 years ago

Text

Dead Knight VIII

Content Warning: Gore and Panic.

The lack of pain was quite welcoming to Jaune as he flew backwards into a wall.

He still felt all the air get knocked out of his lungs, but that didn’t stop him from getting up on his feet again, the pair of twins watching him as he did so.

“Ah so the rabbit rises,” The one in white said.

“Just in time for us to skin him.” The one in red responded.

Jaune gulped and tried to think what to do, and then nearly slapped himself.

In the most fluid motion of his short unlife he unsheathed Crocea Mors and released his sheath into it’s shield form.

‘Ok, that solves one problem. Now, how do I deal with the those two and their goons?’ Jaune thought to himself.

The goons didn’t look intent on joining the fight, just gate-keeping the exits in the front, and the stairs to the side.

They didn’t look particularly tough, just big guys in black suits.

Well, actually they did look pretty tough, a week ago Jaune would have just thrown his wallet one of them and ran away. But, considering Jaune had already died this week and just got kicked across a room a moment ago some goon really didn’t make the top of his likely to kick his ass list.

He had much more pressing issues, two of them infact.

Those twins hadn’t made a move yet, but that was probable because he just brought out his weapon.

They were probably reevaluating him.

Then the one in red cut across the room at speeds that would make a cheetah call unfair.

‘Block, and put put your weight on your back foot, don’t keep you knees straight or you’ll break them!’ Summer said rapid fire at him.

All Jaune caught was block, before red claws started slashing at him.

Shink-Shink-Shink

The sound of metal scratching off metal cut through the air as Jaune took the hits on his shield.

It made Jaune cringe at the sound and the force on his shield was unreal. How was she so strong?

If Summer hadn’t given him Vigor, he might have already been dead (again) on the floor!

He could hardly move as he was slowly pushed back against the wall.

‘Jump!’

Jaune did as he was told, as a bladed boot cut through the space where his knees occupied.

He jumped all the way into the ceiling, though. Hitting it with a loud thunk.

‘Jaune push off the ceiling, otherwise their going to have you surrounded.’

“More than they already do?”

‘You do not want to fight two vs one, Jaune. With one at your back and one at your front.

“Alright, I got you.”

Jaune dug his fingers into the drywall of the ceilings, momentarily halting gravity's tug, and then threw himself legs first and forward.

He landed harshly, falling in a heap, briefly twisting his ankle and tear a couple muscles that were fixed by his regeneration.

The twin were immediately on his case as a pair of claws and bladed heel darted at him.

Jaune managed to block the claws, but the heel dug into his chest, hitting his breast plate and denting it into his ribs, breaking two.

Jaune coughed up a load of spit up, miracuoulsy hitting the red one in the eye as she was going for a second attack at his throat.

“Aghh!” She screamed falling back, rubbing the saliva out of her eyes.

The white one scowled at him, then sent him a flurry of kicks in revenge.

Jaune tried his best to block, but her superior speed let her weave through his meager defense. Letting her hit him repeated across the chest denting his armor and

‘You know what Summer?’ Jaune thought at Summer as he tried to block the blows.

‘What?’

‘This sucks, I bet if I could feel pain right now, I would have blacked out.’

‘Yep. So, how are you planning of getting yourself out of this mess?’

A bladed kick gouged out his cheek. ‘What do you mean my mess! You’re the one who led me to this place.’

‘Eh, lets not get into semantics, now have you tried hitting them?’

‘No! What if I kill one of them?!’

Jaune could then feel Summers sheer confusion.

‘What do mean? Are you joking with me? Cause it’s a stupid joke.’

‘No, Summer I don’t want to hit someone with my very sharp sword, because I don’t want to kill them!’

‘Their Aura will protect them!’

“What in the Darkness is that!?” Jaune yelled out in confusion.

The twin in white hesitated for a second and misaim her kick accidentally hitting Jaune’s shield and with a trail of sparks then cut into the floor.

‘Now, Jaune! Just trust me!’

“Fine, here goes nothing!’ Jaune said raising his back off the floor swinging his shield, which the twin deftly dodged, that he followed up with the momentum created by the shield to swipe at her with his sword.

Crocea Mors had just enough reach to tag her leg, his undead vigor did the rest as the blade hit her.

The edge of the blade was sharp and was swung hard hitting into the White Twin’s aura with a spray of sparks and flash of light, the aura preventing any damage.

It did not stop the momentum behind the attack however, bladed heels do not provide the best footing.

The twin’s legs were hit with enough force to send her into the air.

‘Jaune, get up and go, now!’

“Got it boss!” He said and rose up.

He looked at the suits and brought up his shield as he charged them.

There was brief moment of shock among them. Then they brought out the guns and fired.

Jaune’s eyes widened and brought his shield up in front of him, the bullets sang through the air and his shield like angry metal wasps, but it stopped them.

Then Jaune fell to the ground as suddenly the he felt very light.

He it the floor with a thump.

Jaune really didn’t want to look behind himself, but did anyway.

His legs and waist were separated from his body a pool of blood and intestines trailing to his torso. The Twin in Red looking at him in shock and horror.

“Summer they cut off my legs.”

‘That’s unfortunate.’

“What do I do now?”

‘Um, have you considered death?’

Jaune thought about it for a second and then got were Summer was going.

“Yeah, dying for a bit seems better than this.”

The Twins and the Goons kept staring at him for some reason.

Jaune looked at the goons and lifted an eyebrow.

“So, you guys just going to keep gawking or something? Why haven’t you shot me? I thought toughs like you guys do it all the time?”

The goons said nothing the shades they wore prevent them from making eye contact, but their faces clearly were locked into a mask of horror as the bisected and deathly pale boy just kept talking to them.

“Summer, do you think I could cut my own head off?”

‘Probably, but it wouldn’t kill you. You need to destroy your brain, otherwise you’re going to have to wait for your body to regenerate.’

“Alright, this may sound a little strange, but-”

Jaune didn’t get to finish however, as a familiar bladed heel separated his head from his neck.

Jaune’s head landed on the floor and rolled off into the corner. His head facing the wall.

He opened his mouth to try and talk, but he had no lungs to push air through his throat. He could still feel, hear and see though.

“There, there sister it’s not your fault. I thought he had aura too.”

Jaune could hear the other sister sobbing. ‘Why are they crying, I’m the one who just got dismembered!’

“Look, I finished him off. I killed him, all you did was, eh, uh, you got him on the floor for me to finish him off it’s not your fault.”

The sobbing quieted but was still audible.

“Alright Miltiades, how about you go back into the car. Micky! Take my sister to the car. Me and the others will take care of the rest.”

Jaune heard the sound of footsteps as Miltiades was led to the car.

A loud clap was heard. “Alright, boys the house has been compromised, I don’t know who that freak was, but if he had any friend or connections, or who knows maybe the cops suddenly decide to do their job, their going to come check out the house that suddenly became a shooting range.”

That got a couple chuckls.

“Now, load up everything of value, don’t bother with the furniture, leave the body too and anything he had, we don’t want to take any chances dealing with him he might be a rogue Atlas experiment or something. So, remember grab everything of value we can and move out, leave me box of fire dust and I’ll be good.”

Fire dust? What are... They gonna do.. Oh shit

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

‘Summer they’re going to burn the fucking house down!’

Summer said nothing.

‘Summer, please! What do I, what do I, what do I?!’

Tears started falling from Jaune’s eyes to the spreading pool of blood around his head..

‘Please, Summer!’

Footsteps ran up and down the house, grunts came from upstairs as boxes, crates and tools where taken from the house.

Then it was quiet.

Then came the the crackle and swoosh of flames, followed by the click of heels and a closing door.

‘I’m so sorry, Jaune.’

That was the last thing Jaune heard before flames consumed him and the house.

They say that smoke is the biggest killer in most fires, suffocating those stuck and keeping them from escaping. A small mercy, perhaps, as it only takes around two minutes to lose consciousness, two agonizing minutes.

For a Servant though?

A Servant does not need blood or oxygen too keep their brain functional.

Jaune remained alive even as the flames consumed him. He could not feel the pain however, the Vigor still active.

He could feel the flames, the heat, his skin bubbling and melting, every sizzling burn and pop.

His eyes burst out and his face was consumed by the flames.

His very own brain was slowly cooked and began seeped out his nose and ears.

Even still, Jaune aware of it all.

Aware that once he was resurrected he’d feel every ounce of the pain.

In his last moments of awareness, Jaune had a moment.

One moment of emotion.

Hatred.

Dismay.

Desire.

And want for change.

Jaune never wanted to be in this situation again, he wanted to change and not be here anymore.

A light was born.

Inside Jaune’s empty sockets a dim light briefly existed, a light so faint it may not have existed at all, and then it was gone, as Jaune’s skull was crushed by the falling ceiling.

Then their was nothingness and darkness. Jaune accepted it as a warmth enveloped him.

“I am so sorry, Jaune. I am so very sorry. I am so sorry, I’m sorry, please, please, please stay with me. Stay strong please. I need you strong, Jaune. I can’t do this alone....I’ll never let this happen again.” Summer said to Jaune as she held his soul, Jaune unable to respond as he was deep into sleep.

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

Melanie held her sobbing sister close to her as they drove back to the club.

She’d like to say she felt bad about what happened, but she really didn’t. He was just another face to the many live she had taken.

It was an accident really, they hadn’t meant to kill the guy. They just thought from the ways he was dressed and that sword he was either a beacon reject or maybe a runaway from Signal, nothing they couldn’t handle as long as he wasn’t on Cow-Tits level, especially with the boys helping.

They just wanted to rough him up a bit and give him a bit of scare, threaten him little, that if he said a word about their warehouse that they’d kill his family or something. That usually got most people to shut up, if not, she’d have just have to get creative again.

Why he was in the Xiong Clan’s warehouse Melanie hadn’t the faintest idea, how he got in was better question as they had the best locks they could afford on their. Shit she forgot to get the locks off didn’t she. Oh well.

Anyway, It didn’t matter if that kid knew something or not, it was about sending a message.

The Xiong Clan is not weak and will not be fucked with.

And after Cow-Tits rampage, they couldn’t afford to take chance with somebody who managed to get into their warehouse.

She felt her sister stir against her shoulder and rise, showing puffy red eyes and tears. She looked a damn mess, she make sure no one saw her like this when they got back to the club, she’d take her up to their room and made sure she went to sleep.

Melanie pulled her sister against her chest and let lie there stroking her head.

“It’s not you’re fault, it’s not you’re fault Mils, and we are going to get through this together, alright?”

Miltiades said nothing but weakly nodded.

Melanie wanted to sigh, but held it back. Despite being the younger twin, she felt like she was the more mature one.

Miltiades was always the more emotional one. Not that many people would notice, considering the lack of friends and family they had. She was always the one to cry at soap operas, the one to make sure the boys were taken care of, and the first one to help anybody who got assaulted at the club, sexually or otherwise. She cared for the Club and the Xiong Clan, she was the velvet glove to her iron fist underneath. Even if she wasn’t that expressive.

Miltiades had killed before, sure. But, it had always been in self-defense of herself or the club. Easily justifiable. That why Melanie had told Junior she’d shove his ball up into his lower intestine if he tried to rope Mils into the darker elements of the clan.

Melanie, though? She had no problems what so ever with hurting anybody for any reason, so long as it involved protecting The Xiong Clan’s interest. The Clan was her life and her blood, it was her purpose in life to defend it and her sister.

“Everything is going to be fine Mils, it’s all over, and we’re never going to think about this again.”

AN: Famous last words before tragedy struck. It got dark again didn’t it? Shit, I mean I was writing trying to think who I wanted this to go, but then I realized that these guys are criminals, and was like huh this could further my agenda. Anyway, Jaune gained his ability this chapter, what it is will be explored later. I’m using a power system similar to Zombie Knight, but modified to suit Remnant. Even though it’s just because I don’t want to look up a bunch of chemisty facts.

Next part is going to be pretty dark too

#Dead Knight AU!#Jaune Arc #Summer Rose #melanie malachite #Miltiades Malachite

16 notes · View notes

lordmorninwood · 3 years ago

Text

Rwby: Thicker than water au

Royal heirloom

Salem was angry. Cinder has just gone and disobeyed her after only just getting back into her good graces, and while she had the Relic of knowledge, Salem rather ironically, did not know how to activate it or if she was even able to use it.

Now, not only does she find that her relic is gone, but one of her subordinates have turned heel. They were particularly useful as well Emerald was, with her ability to manipulate people’s perceptions.

And she has caught Emerald escaping with Ozma along with a small party of huntsmen. She quickly takes Emerald by them neck and clutches her head close

“You really have been honing that semblance of yours”

Only to narrowly dodge gunfire and then facing the others. Taking a second to appraise them, she sees if any of the new visitors are worth her time.

She first sees a young women with a long flowing mane of blonde hair, with a metal arm and armed with some complex looking vambraces. Or maybe they are gauntlets, it’s hard to tell. Beyond that, she looks much like Raven Branwen colored differently.

She also sees a huntres- no a huntsman with a long black braid, and wielding what appears to be a pair of firearms with dual daggers attached to them. He has a stoic expression, and they almost look a bit gray. Not one for power, but likely finesse, like a rogue before the second rise of humanity. Not very important. Not like they will be breathing for much longer.

Then Salem turns to the last member of this little rescue party.

Well, he seems interesting. She can’t put her finger on it, but he seems, familiar almost. Perhaps it is the knight archetype he has going on. Possibly trained by Ozma? If so then she is going to save him for last, and make Ozma watch as she tears him apart.

Before analyzing any further, she fires he magic at the rogue, but the knight sidestepped in front of him and blocked it with his shield. She thought she saw a bit of gold on the shield, but that might just be residual light from her magic.

As the knight and the rogue are knocked back, the brawler leaps at her and lands a few rapid jabs at her chest, before dashing away. Before Salem can even turn towards the brawler, some small devices stuck to her torso combust and she is blow open, folded backwards in half.

Salem doesn’t even activate her aura. She has it unlocked, but why even activate it when every injury inflicted on her is simply undone in a matter of seconds unless she tries to suppress it. Physical pain is nothing to her, having felt fatal wounds over and over again, and the dark essence numbing what little she does feel.

Before Salem even finishes regenerating, she shoots out a black tendril from her left hand, and is now holding both Emerald and the Raven lookalike in each hand.

Then Ozma fires his own beam of magic at her. She flinches because while Ozma’s magic is not even a fraction of what it once was, his artifacts hurt more than most other things do. In retaliation, Salem throws the brawler at him, but fails to see the knight charging at her until the last second.

She lazy leans to her side to dodge. While wounds mean nothing to her she does know the disadvantage an opponent has while off balance. The knight still manages to cut her unoccupied arm off though, so as soon as she is behind the knight she uses her restraining glyphs to trip and hold him down, along with the rogue so they would not step in either. She aims her shoulder at the knight and-

Wait a second.

Her arm has not regrown yet?

How is this possible?

Even actively willing her arm to regrow she notice it regrowing at a snails pace. But that shouldn’t be possible. She looks to the knight and ponders how he managed to make a lasting wound. Only magic and weapons imbued with such could possibly do that, and not this much. The only weapon ever to wound her for this long was-

Salem’s eye narrow.

“Crocea mors.”

The knight lets out a gasp. It seems she was right about the blade, different as is may appear. She finally gets a good look at the white kite shield, with a crest in the center, of twin golden arcs.

Salem addresses the young knight, now seeing some resemblance. “That weapon belongs an old family, one who was supposed to stay out of this war. Possession of it either make you a thief,”

His eyes narrow in indignation and suspicion.

“Or an Arc. Would you explaining which you are so that I may return it to it’s rightful owners?”

“You stay the heck away from my family.” The Arc growls out.

“So an Arc then. How are Nicholas and Juniper? I have not heard from Ansel in quite some time.”

He looks at Salem in confusion, “how do you know my parents?”

“I forged that very blade you hold from my own blood, killing my self over and over until my remains had enough iron in them to make it. It was not capable of slaying me as I had hoped, but it was still a weapon worthy of a hero, one like Julius.”

“Great-great grandfather.” He muttered.

“Yes, after miraculously finding a distant descendant of one of my daughters about to go to war, I thought fit to improve their chances of survival. After giving him the gift of my own blood steel, and an enhancement to his aura, I watched over his family as he went to war. I used to visit the Arcs regularly, until... recent developments have made me advance my plans.”

She turned to Emerald again, pinning her to a wall with glyphs , “but enough of that. You will tell me where the relic is, or I will force it out of you.”

“I swear I don’t know.” Emerald began to cry. Hmm, perhaps. Perhaps not. Salem will have to check with her seers if they saw who took it.

Hazel then came walked in, but Salem didn’t pay him any mind. Even out numbered Hazel was a skilled combatant who only Tyrian with his aura bypassing semblance could defeat with anything remotely resembling ease. She continued to pressure Emerald, when suddenly Hazel of all people struck her sending her flying. He injected several dust crystals into himself and began to fight her off. His power was almost comparable to a maiden. He managed to get Salem in a hold and set them both on fire, as Ozma pointed his cane at her.

The last thing Salem saw was one of her descendants looking toward Ozma, and then a great flash of light.

#rwby #jaune arc #rwby salem #hazel reinhart #emerald sustrai #crocea mors #volume 8 #rwby volume 8 #thicker than water au

12 notes · View notes

itsmoonphobic · 4 years ago

Text

Elemental Souls (SBI+Tommy 4 elements au)

(🌿) ♡ (🔥) ♡ (🌊) ♡ (🌬)

Techno Blade -Fire:

"Fire is the rapid oxidation of a material in the exothermic chemical process of combustion, releasing heat, light, and various reaction products."

You can either see Techno as rude,cocky and egoistic or you can see him as loyal,determined and smart.

Becouse of his cold facade,Techno can scare poeple off easily.The fact that he gets aggressive easily doesn't make it any better.He tends to be very sarcastic and loves to tease/ignore people badly which is another reason poeple tend to stay away from him.

Techno can be described as terrifying.Becouse he is very intelligent and silent poeple around him can only wonder what he is thinking and if he is planning on killing someone soon.Of course Techno never killed anyone and he would never do so but his scary aura makes people believe he did and would do it again.

He doesn't take things very seriously and will only get invested if he is deeply committed and interested in them or if he gets something out of it.Techno may say that he isn't a competitive person but god is this man lying to himself.

Challenging Techno to something is probably the most dumbest move you could make.Not only will he destroy you and win but he will make a whole ass war out of it.This guy won't sleep,eat or talk to another human being until he's won.And you can bet your ass he will totally humiliate you and rub it in till it burns-

That's what Techno can be seen as from the outside. But on the inside he is anything but confident,cocky and unbeatable.He is very shy and socially awkward. He only picks out certain people who he will let take part in his life.On some days his insecurities will get the best of him and he won't come out of his room for weeks-

Hours and hours spent on crying only then become evident once he leaves his room and reveals this mess of red and puffy eyes,dark valleys and pale skin.The vibes he gives off basically scream "back of and leave me the fuck alone or I will burn you to death"

Others may think that a fiery person like him has to have exciting and risky hobbies-When in reality Techno loves peaceful and quiet activities like reading or studying.May I add that in his free time Techno absolutely loves to be outside and farm potatoes on a daily-

Sure Techno does fighting and skill upgrading from time to time but when he is left alone with his head full of thoughts he will scurry to the local library and spend the rest of his day there.Nobody questions why he goes there or makes fun of him that such a tough guy reads books-Becouse they very well know he will personally beat them up and burn down their houses.

Techno's best friend Phil is the only person who he truly trusts with everything and anything.The two of them grew up together and developed a really strong emotional and family like bond.Techno only allows Phil to see his vulnerable and fragile side,he will cry infront of him and even let Phil hug him while he reassures him that everything will work out and be fine.

Techno isn'a touchy guy,for him pda is disgusting and unnecessary-like,why the fuck would you put your hands on another person?What kind of person enjoys sharing physical contact?Not Techno that's for sure.

Over time Techno became more open and extroverted so he agreed to meeting two of Phil's friends,both of them having different elements.Phil commented something about how he thinks that opposite friendships are way more exciting and fun!Techno didn't think much of it,he simply rolled his eyes and went along with it.

That was the day Techno met Wilbur and Tommy.He could immediately tell that Tommy would be annoying as fuck and really hard to deal with-I mean the kid was only twelve when they first got introduced.Wilbur on the other hand sparked some sort of feeling inside of Techno that made him feel welcomed in his presence.

So yeah over the course of the next four years the four element benders became really close.Yes even grumpy Techno had to live with the fact that he would die for all of them-even Tommy.And speaking of Tommy,he and Techno do everything together-

If you would to make fun of Tommy or tease/annoy him in any be it negative or positive way-Techno would hunt you down and burn you-If it isn't intense he will stick to only a threat-but if you actually physically or mentally hurt Tommy??Oh boy-I may have said that Techno never did and never would kill somebody,but in this case there is a high chance of an angry Techno being after you.

Techno sees his friend group as family members.Phil represents a huge father figure,Wilbur his younger brother and Tommy his youngest brother.He is very overprotective of them all,especially over Tommy if you couldn't already tell.With how much shit he gets himself into and the fact that he is only sixteen years young and his braincells are still producing he can't but worry for him and take care of him,even if he does bully the fuck out of him :)

Wilbur and Techno have the best moments.The two of them both enjoy reading so you can occasionally discover them in the local town library where they are just enjoying the peace shared between eachother. Although Wilbur does have a chaotic and wild side to him which he lets out when he's around Tommy,he becomes quite and relaxed when around the fire bender.Techno knew from the moment he met Wilbur that the two of them would get along great.

Techno isn't really good with showing his feelings or dealing with his emotions-Like I said apart from pride and anger he doesn't reveal much to the world.Phil used to be the only person Techno trusted but now with the whole gang on his side he earned himself more poeple to rely on.Of course it took time for him to open up and really let himself go infront of Tommy and Wilbur but the waiting definitely paid off.

When Techno practices,for example his weapon usage and fire bending it is best to leave him alone and stay a safe distance away from him.There is a chance for him to attack you,though he will most likely just snap at you and tell you to piss off if you don't wanna burn alive and if you wanna keep all your fingers in place.

Also not to mention,Techno is on the way of becoming a vegetarian.At the start he only hated eating anything related to pigs,like bacon or pork chops.But after developing his love for farming he noticed just how unnecessary eating meat is.Sure he still consumes meat from time to time but in most of the cases he will turn it down and eat a baked potato instead :D

Squid and Dream(A water bender and a earth bender) are both in a rivalry with him.Techno is probably the one who started randomly picking on Squid at one point and from there on out they kind of grew close?Not too close but most definitely a form of friendship.

Dream on the other hand is hundred percent the one who constantly competes with Techno.Be it in element bending or grades in school.If Dream manages to get even half a point more on an exam he would literally celebrate.The most annoying part is the fact that Techno doesn't even acknowledge Dream. Just to see Dream's face when Techno only shrugs and lets out a small "ehh" while saying that it doesn't matter and he sees no point in anyone trying to be as good as him or better,makes it more entertaining ;D

To sum it all up: Techno is a natural born leader.His dedication and determination along with his loyalty are a healthy base for a powerful soul.The reason behind his aggressive,confident and somewhat rude side is due to the fact that he is a fire bender and his element is naturally fierce.He fights for what he thinks is important and right and never lets anything happen to the poeple he deeply loves and cares about.He is not the best when it comes to showing sympathy and affection and he doesn't seek it from anyone else.He has to deal with major mental health issues but he's more than thankful for his friends that are by his side and help him out on his journey.Once Techno opens up to you more you know he likes you,like I said to earn Techno's respect and trust you have to meet his expectations and show him that you actually care for him and his well being.He needs some love guys <3

Like fire itself, fire benders tend to be passionate, dynamic, and temperamental. Fire can keep you warm, or it can do great destruction. While fire burns out quickly without fuel to keep it going, it can also regenerate its power from the ashes. A single spark can set off a forest fire. As a result, fire benders need to be nurtured and managed carefully.

Phil Watson - Air:

"Air refers to the Earth's atmosphere. Air is a mixture of many gases and dust particles. It is the clear gas in which living things live and breathe. It has an indefinite shape and volume. It has mass and weight, because it is matter."

The most hardworking,kind and caring guy you will ever encounter.Phil is the definition of wholesome :)

Phil is a very understanding and empathetic person. He patiently listens and respects people's boundaries and insecurities.He is a great comfort to many poeple with phobias and mental health issues.A part of his element is care and gentleness.Phil is very careful and elegant with his words and actions.He tends to not be hasty and obnoxious around people he first meets or knows who don't like that type of behavior.

He and Techno are very close.Phil trusts Techno with his eyes closed and the same goes for Techno.The way the two of them interact with eachother suprises people all the time.How could such a gentle soul deal with a feisty one like Techno's??Outsiders and even familiars wonder if the two share some sort of telepathic connection.All in all they share an unbreakable and strong family like bond.

Not only did Phil introduce his other really good friends to Techno and managed to get him to open up more and trust other people apart from him,but he also helped Techno realize that there are other poeple out there who care about him and want to give him nothing but undeniable love <3

Techno may be close with Wilbur and Tommy but the only person who knows about Techno's struggles and his biggest fears is Phil.He knows exactly in which way he needs to talk to him and how to act around him.Phil knows Techno doesn't like affection like hugs and holding hands but as a sign of appreciation and gratefulness Techno allows Phil to hug him while he calms him down and takes care of him.

The way he acts with such precision and grace makes anyone feel welcomed and comfortable around Phil. Phil is very helpful.He doesn't wait for poeple to come up to him and ask him for something,he goes up to them and asks if he can help them out with anything.

He stands up for justice and always does the right things.Phil has a big heart,if he sees anyone who is hurt or feeling down his parent like instincts will activate and he will immediately comfort them.

All three of his best friends(Techno,Wilbur,Tommy) look up to him as a father figure,which warms Phil's heart and he honestly he thinks it's super cute <3 So naturally Phil can't but see them as his three polar opposite,chaotic sons.He would do anything for the three of them,even risking his own life.

Tommy and Phil's relationship is probably the most cutest one.When Phil tells Tommy to quit it or to stop fighting with Wilbur or Techno(mostly Wilbur),Tommy instantly goes quiet and apologises for it.Phil's air bending is something that Tommy loves about him.He will always ask the elder if he can twirl him around in the air and make him fly.Phil gladly does so and he will tickle him with the wind he creates until Tommy is a giggling mess :D

Wilbur and Phil on the other hand are a completely different dynamic than Techno & Phil or Tommy & Phil. Most think that Phil would be scared of Techno like any other person is but it's actually Wilbur who genuinely scares Phil from time to time.Sure anyone who sees him doesn't think that something like "I just wanna fucking murder everyone around me and drag them to the bottom of the ocean-" would come out of his mouth.It's not only what he says it's how and when he says horrifying things like that.They could be out on a walk and Wilbur would just have the most blank expression while he says sentences like that.Phil is pretty sure that he even caught Tommy holding onto Techno's hand once while Techno shivered slightly with wide eyes.

Phil is known for being very respectful and polite.He doesn't like to be mean and angry towards anyone!He is a big pacifist(unlike other poeple 👀)who likes to sort things out with a nice and peaceful conversation instead of turning to immediate violence.He will argument with someone,but only when he has a good reason to do so.If he sees people arguing or fighting he will confront them about it and make sure they settle down and put their differences aside.

He's affectionate and really interested in the problems of others,as if they were his own.He will always be there if you are stuck with something and need help solving or overcoming said problem.He'll make sure that both of you find a way to get rid of it! <3

Air benders are also the most forgiving element benders,so Phil can tell the difference between acting out and just plain old meanness,and he understands that in moments of strong emotion, people can say and do things to can hurt others. Not that he'd ever do the same!His cool, collected vibe helps him navigate the drama and analyze it throughly.

Phil is a master of both small talk and deep convos, and he knows how to use his wit to get him out of awkward moments.That's another way Phil instantly gets the hang of strangers he just met!!He knows what subjects to bring up and what topics to talk about that they are interested in!

Also I quickly wanna say that Phil's laugh is super contagious!He could be out with Techno,Wil and Tommy while the three of them rant on and on about their days and just talk about random,shit.Phil will silently listen to every detail in the background while he uncontrollably laughs.He will let out a small "What?" or "No way dude" but apart from those small phrases he just prefers listening and cackling.He loves to see other people laugh and smile and is even more happy when he is the reason they do so :3

Phil is generous and selfless.He puts the health and safety of others before his own.He doesn't require many things to be satisfied in his life.As long as he has his family and friends he couldn't be more grateful <3

He definitely has a love for birds such as pigeons and doves.One time about two years ago Tommy brought Phil a beautiful silver feathered bird for his birthday. Even with his element being air,Phil sometimes wishes and dreams of flying himself,being able to feel that freedom for himself you know?He sees birds as lucky to have a gift such as flying.

Air benders are all about action, ideas, and motion—they are the “winds of change.” When a strong gust hits you, you can’t help but move. While some within their ranks may be true-life “airheads,” others are as powerful as a gravity-defying G-force. Air benders bring everyone a breath of fresh air when things start to get stale. Like the breeze, you can’t quite catch them, and you never know where they’ll drop you once they sweep you up. It will almost always been an adventure, though

Wilbur Soot - Water:

"Water is an inorganic, transparent, tasteless, odorless, and nearly colorless chemical substance, which is the main constituent of Earth's hydrosphere and the fluids of all known living organisms. It is vital for all known forms of life, even though it provides no calories or organic nutrients."

Charming,suave and flirty in a way that can only be from fiction.Do men like that even exist?Apparently they do and they go by the name of Wilbur Soot.

Ever stand under a waterfall? That’s what it’s like when a Wilbur is feeling an intense emotion.

Intuitive, emotional and ultra-sensitive,Wilbur can be as mysterious as the ocean itself. Like water,he can be refreshing,or he can drown you in his depths.Security is important to him,after all, water needs a container, or it dries up and disappears.

He tends to hold on to people and items long past their expiration dates,and his emotions are always flowing like the waves of the oceans.Wilbur has intense dreams,visions,and an intuition so strong that it’s basically a psychic power.He can see situations happening from a mile away before they occur.

He might intentionally seek out sad music or movies, and he probably has childhood photos framed in his room.Emotional and creative,he relays on his heart and gut to make a decision.Logic and reason are second to his feelings which is how he navigates the material world.Wilbur also longs for security at all times,which makes sense as he's protective of his loved ones and himself.He'll do everything he can to help the ones he cares about,even if it’s at his own expense.

However, like most things beautiful, below the surface many complexities often arise and the same is true when talking about water benders.

Wilbur is notoriously perceptive and he possesses instincts when it comes to sussing out people and situations.He's guided by his gut feelings and more often than not his first instinct about a person are dead on.He can get a feel for whether someones intentions are honorable or not just by observing their body language and general demeanor.

Like a river filling in every crevice of its path,Wilbur covers every detail and often picks up on things that others miss.No riverbed is left to dry as the water flows through each and every intricacy.

The water signs are no stranger to emotion, in fact, they often feel things rather intensely.

On one hand,his emotional side can provide him with a lot of insight and wisdom into the human experience which he can even then pass on to others.On top of this,it allows him to be incredibly empathetic which helps him form strong bonds with others.

But sometimes he can get so overcome by his emotions that it feels like a giant tidal wave just hitting him all at once. When he feels overwhelmed like this he can find it tough to think straight and make rational decisions.

Because he is so prone to analyzing absolutely everything he can sometimes overthink things a little too much and make life more complicated for himself then it needs to be.He has a bad habit of coming up with problems and obstacles in his mind that don’t actually exist or aren’t nearly as bad as he's talked himself into them being.

Sometimes you might catch Wilbur acting withdrawn or shy but the truth is he's probably just deep in thought and mentally a million miles away.He often finds his thoughts are racing at a million miles an hour and that he's powerless to do anything about it.

Just like a bustling river,Wilbur can be a bit wishy washy and kinda all over the place… especially when it comes to making important decisions.Too many options can sometimes leave him overwhelmed and struggling to make any decision at all.

He's also known for being easily distracted and can go from paying close attention in one moment to being totally away with the fairies the next.He doesn't do it out of rudeness he just can’t help himself sometimes!

Wilbur has a very private and mysterious side,he doesn’t like to reveal all of his cards at once.He's known for putting up walls and can be particularly guarded when he's around people he doesn't trust.

From time to time he needs space to himself to think and unwind. As much as he loves his friends and family there’s just some times where he's gotta have some alone time to spend by himself.

Wilbur sure has a unique way of looking at the world. His perspective combined with his vivid imagination makes him naturally gifted in music or anything involving a creative flare.He is a dreamer at heart whose ideas aren't limited by pesky rules or conventions.

He has a big musical talent,his voice is a perfect balance between rough and velvety.It's not too high and not too low,not too loud and not too quiet.The moment he strums his guitar strings he can wrap anybody around his finger.

Wilbur is emotionally manipulative.He can make you feel bad for something you didn't even do.He can make you regret things or certaint actions that aren't supposed to make you feel regretful.He will only use this "talent" of his in a worst case scenario.If you ever hurt his friends or loved ones he will make your life a living hell,wouldn't even wonder if you never decided to show your face to the public ever again.

Techno's and his relationship is wonderful.Wilbur has helped Techno so much to open up more and come out of his shell.They both enjoy the peaceful and quiet times in their life.Reading,going on walks or strolling along the beach while watching a sunset is just some of the many things they love doing together.He isn't as close to Techno like Phil is but he is close second. He sees him as his older and stronger brother who will always be there for him when he needs him.Honestly the two of them have such a beneficial dynamic <3

Now Tommy's and Wilbur's interactions are something absolutely opposite.When the two of them spent time together,they become these chaotic and annoying siblings that go around town and fuck with people. There was this one time where they flooded a barn which belonged to Phil's neighbors and the two reckless idiots ran away laughing.Sure Tommy steals Phil's stuff all the time or uses it without permission but Wilbur,just like Techno,is very overprotective of Tommy.If he finds out that somebody hurt Tommy in any way or made fun of him he will beat them up. Literally he will call in Techno for help to go and pay the little fuckers who messed with Tommy a visit.The only ones who are allowed to tease and bully Tommy are Techno and Wilbur,no one else.

Phil and Wilbur have some of the best moments when spending time with eachother.Not only is Phil a great source of reassurance and comfort but he knows that Phil will seal his mouth shut if Wilbur speaks to him about his insecurities and problems.He loves that Phil listens to him and never judges him about anything. Like the other two Wilbur sees Phil as a father figure. A great and inspiring role model he can look up to.

He likes to collect sea shells and old treasures he finds scattered over the sand at the beach.He doesn't like swimming or diving,which is really unrealistic to not only other water benders but benders in general.It's not that Wilbur is scared,he simply likes to admire it from the shore.He will do it from time to time must mostly he will just sit down and let his legs and feet rest in the cold liquid.

I can imagine that when he was a kid he used to pretend to be a pirate.He still has his old eye patch and hook that were part of his costume.Now,even after thirteen years he still likes to go up to the harbor when the fishermen arrive with a freshly caught catch and watch the ships glide across the indigo waves.

Tommy Simons - Earth:

"Earth materials are vital resources that provide the basic components for life, agriculture and industry. Earth materials can also include metals and precious rocks."

Tommy is outgoing,energetic and he isn't afraid to speak up and share his thoughts with others.A very openminded and positive guy.He always looks on the bright side of every situation he finds himself in.

He is down to earth.He doesn't believe in having dreams,he only believes and accepts things the way they are and how they are portrayed in his eyes.

People don't realize it but they are seriously underestimating Tommy.When you first see him you don't expect him to have good strategies and the ability of leadership like Techno clearly has.But that's the thing.One of the many things Tommy picks up while being in a friendship with the fire bender is experience.Techno will lazily teach the young earth bender how to protect himself and lead a team. Without Techno's guidance Tommy would have been in trouble countless times.So you could say that Techno is Tommy's mentor :)

He's a great mood booster!If there is awkward tension in a room or between others he will make it up by just being there and doing what Tommy does the best, brighten up the atmosphere!He will start random conversations and just try to get everyone else to do something fun like play a game or watch a movie.

Techno may help Tommy with things like self defense and how to establish dominance but the earth bender helps him with his potato farming!He will hurry up the process of their growth and make sure they are perfect before they are harvested.He keeps track of the amount of soil and vitamins the earth their roots grow in receives.

Speaking of Techno's and his relationship: The two of them are so close it's insane.They do everything with eachother!They train,upgrade their skills in bending and fighting,they go out to eat or have a drink,they go around town and fuck things up-the two of them are huge pranksters.Tommy always tries to prove himself infront of Techno and impress him in any way.Tommy loves spending time with Techno,the blond earth bender admires him in so many different ways- They don't have to be doing much together,it can be mindless talking or simply being in the same room.

Wilbur and Tommy are ehhh- special?On one side they are funny and entertaining together but on the other side they can be insulting eachother with such vulgarity that you could think they are about to commit murder any moment.Tommy talks so much shit about Wilbur.If you're dumb enough and actually choose to listen to him,he will ramble on about how Wilbur thinks he's so smart and good with the ladies- Yoo would think that after trash talking him that Tommy hates Wilbur's guts but it's the opposite!!If he catches you talking bad about Wilbur behind his back he will call Techno and they will hunt you down.

Tommy like everyone else sees Phil as his very caring and cool dad!Phil somehow always finds out about all the shit Tommy does and he gets scolded for it.Like most people,if Tommy ever has a problem he's dealing with or he's in a uncomfortable situation,Phil is the first person who crosses his mind and therefore the one he turns to.

The way Tommy goes around their town and picks fights with others is so stupid.At the end he comes home with bruises and wounds all over his skin.One time his best friend Toby brought him to Phil with a bloody nose and Phil's reaction was screeching-

He is extremely curious and stubborn.He doesn't really think before he acts and dives into unknown things he's not familiar with head first.Techno is the one who laughs at him and teases him about how clumsy he is.

Earth benders keep it real. They are the “grounded” people on the planet, the ones who bring us down to earth and remind us to start with a solid foundation. Slow and steady, these “builders” are loyal and stable, and stick by their people through hard times. On good days, they’re practical; at worst, they can be materialistic or too focused on the surface of things to dig into the depths.

Hope you enjoyed this au!!I am currently writing MULTIPLE stories and au's so bare with me guys!I don't like working fast becouse my work afterwards doesn't feel completed:( I hope all of you have a wonderful day/night <3 Love ya!!!

48 notes · View notes

dustypotion · 5 years ago

Text

Jaune is Salem’s Descendent Theory Masterpost

Hey everyone, want to hear my crackhead theories? Because I’ve mentioned this one before tons of times but now with more evidence I’m making a mid-volume 7 full update.

Visual Similarities

The blond-hair-blue-eyes thing is mostly an observation that kind of ties together everything if this theory is true, but is essentially for me the least important aspect. families tend to match eachother in aesthetic, though, so there’s a point to be made about that at least.

Everyone’s said it before, but Salem’s symbol is essentially the Arc symbol flipped with a diamond slapped on top. In a similar vein, we know Salem’s father was overprotective and kept Salem locked away, and although we don’t have too much to go on about how Jaune was raised we can assume not knowing jack shit about aura was a symptom of having been sheltered as a child.

In Jaune’s original concept art, they had a version of him that had red eyes that was scrapped. Funnily enough, the other concept had his eyes yellow. Jaune got extremely close to his final design not having blue eyes.

Jaune’s aura/semblance has striking similarity to the visual cueswhen Salem becomes immortal

Jaune’s Aura & Abilities

Jaune’s aura has been mentioned pretty much the most out of all the kids. He’s referenced several times to have a very high or possibly unnatural amount of aura, and in recent episodes, has used his semblance to regenerate it quicker than most can. Now, we’ve never seen a semblance that can heal others, and it makes sense that the amount of aura Jaune has was influenced by something, most likely being related to Salem and the remnants (ha) of her immortality

Also, if we’re loose about the interpretation of how Jaune is bringing back his own aura in Volume 7, feasibly he could learn to do it at such a rapid rate that would make him incredibly hard to kill unless you caught him completely off guard.

Jaune and Possible Grimm/Magic Influences

Someone picked up that back in Volume 5, Jaune reacts to the silver eyes. On further analysis of times when the SEWs use their powers, no one is really affected by the brightness of the power, as Emerald can knock out Ruby almost instantly after she’s used it and before Ruby’s even fully retracted the power. This is especially a thing in Haven, where only two people have an instant reaction to the Silver Eyes: Cinder, most obviously, but also Jaune. In fact, he shields his eyes (since he’s more facing Ruby) and stops charging Cinder before Cinder even seems affected by the Silver Eyes. We see him noticeably wince before facing an agonised Cinder

On a rewatch of Ruby’s repeated use of silver eyes during Brunswick, there’s definitely a pattern that suggests Blake, Weiss and Yang don’t react to the brightness of the SE and aren’t affected. Blake, when Ruby goes SEW, has a delayed reaction in getting up; it looks like she’s reacting the Apathy weakening, not the SEs. So why would Jaune be the only one to seem physically affected?

If we take the other two in account and remember that Grimm sense negative emotions and seem to be drawn in when bad things are happening, could that be the reason Jaune is so adamant that Ruby didn’t dial him on purpose back in Volume 2 and his “bad gut feeling” was him reacting to the Grimm outbreak before the sirens even went off?

Personality Similarities

Jaune’s story grieving Pyrrha and Salem’s story grieving Ozma parallel each other immensely. They have an awful reaction to their deaths, become aggressive and bitter against those they perceive as the culprits, and their SOs were the first/only ones to ever believe or try for them.

They also share similar personality traits; incredibly stubborn, not above lying or manipulating to achieve goals (Salem lying to the GoD, Jaune’s transcripts), and are very emotional people.

In a way that Ozpin and Salem are foils for each other, it would make sense that Jaune and Ruby would also be foils. Since it’s heavily implied that silver eyed warriors are descendents of Ozpin’s many incarnations, Jaune being a descendent of Salem’s would work in juxtaposing the two further. It also heavily fits the themes of improving on the older generation if Jaune, despite finding out who he’s related to, stays on the side of good and refuses to repeat Salem’s mistakes.

This will be added to as we get more information or somebody contributes (this will go with obvious credit). we’re going crackhead boys.

#rwby #long post #rwby7 #rwby7 spoilers #rwby spoilers #jaune arc #rwby salem

494 notes · View notes

jace-the-writer-guy · 3 years ago

Text

Lore of Palara: Vampires

Vampires live in secrecy all across the world of Palara. Some in the shadows of the underbellies of great cities. Some live in the outskirts of villages, trying to keep from revealing their affliction to those around them. Some stalk the world in the night, looking for a person or animal to drain of their life essence. Some try to lock themselves away from civilization so as to not hurt anyone around them. While animal blood is enough for them to get by on, it isn't very nutritious for them. All vampires have different minds, thoughts, impulses, and desires.

Much of this comes from the blood they have in them. Throughout the long and ancient history of Palara, there have been legends of "The Four". These people were vampires of different kinds, cursed by the God of Darkness. Each one was "gifted" different abilities and traits, they were each given immortality in terms of age, gained resiliency against conventional weaponry, and they gained a rapid regeneration to wounds not caused by certain weapons. The names of these people were Mathias, Lysander, Iliana, and Gwenevyr. Two men and two women.

Iliana's vampirism didn't change her much. Her skin grew a deathly pale tone and her eyes began to look a bit glazed over, as if she were a walking corpse. She didn't grow fangs, and the only way she could drink the blood of a person was to bite their skin extremely hard to draw blood, or cut them with a blade. She also gained an innate ability to charm those she comes across as well. Iliana had the hardest time out of these vampires, but she was able to get by thanks to her ability to charm people. Vampires of Iliana's affliction, known as "The Frail", are the rarest kind of vampire in the present day, and oftentimes the most noticeable as vampires when they are met. They mostly rely on their charm to make people give them their blood or an animal's blood as they can be quite frail due to not being able to feed as much as the other types of vampires.

Mathias was afflicted with a different form of vampirism. While his skin didn't change color, he grew four fangs, two very small ones and two larger ones but rather subtle all on in the top row of his teeth. The sclera of his eyes turned black as well, and his pupils turned a glowing crimson color. He also gained the ability to "mistwalk", allowing him to turn into a cloud of dark mist to travel, or evade angry townsfolk that had caught him in the act of feeding. Known as "Mistwalkers", the vampires that carry Mathias' affliction are one of the most common types of vampires to come across. These vampires are also much more rational in certain cases as well, and aren't as easy to fall into a feral state.

Lysander was afflicted with pale skin much like Iliana was, but was given a single pair of fangs that are longer than what Mathias had been given. He was stricken much harsher by the sunlight than the others and was forced to only go out and feed at night, and was forced to take refuge in the underbellies and alleyways of cities. His ability that came with his affliction allowed him to levitate off the ground whenever he wished, letting him fly away from trouble. Vampires of his affliction are known as "Moonkin". They are less common than the Mistwalkers vampires due to them not being able to go out as much to feed on people.

Gwenevyr was given a very unique affliction in that her skin stayed its normal shade, she didn't have fangs that could be easily shown, and she wasn't affected negatively by the sun. Her affliction took much of Myrkur's power due to it directly undermining Valo and Kuu's power over darkness. Gwenevyr's ability is to be able to hide her fangs from sight. When they show as she is about to feed on a person, it shows that she has four large, slightly curved fangs in the top row of her teeth while all her bottom teeth were sharp and pointed. Those afflicted with her strain of vampirism were called "Daywalkers". These vampires are the most common for their ability to hide and hunt in broad daylight.

While there are only four original vampires, there is actually a fifth kind. They have been stricken with an affliction many years after Myrkur cursed the Four. Vampires must feed on the life essence of non-vampires or animals to survive. It gives them the nutrients they need to keep their bodies functioning. When they can't get that sustenance, their bodies begin to slowly shut down until they can feed again. If they can't, their bodies enter a comatose state, and then their teeth and fangs all fall out to be replaced by full, razor sharp fangs that rend the flesh of what they attack. When these vampires wake up, all their thoughts are gone, replaced only by the need for blood. They turn feral and are, for the time being, incurable of this new, much more terrible affliction. These vampires retreat to the shadows of night away from cities and villages, waiting to ambush their prey as they leave their homes, or they stalk the forests for animals to slaughter and feed on. These creatures have been called "Nightstalkers", and are considered monsters to be put down when come across.

The Frail, the Mistwalkers, the Moonkin, and the Daywalkers. All of these vampires have been living throughout the world of Palara for centuries. More recent times saw the rise of the Kingdom of Sanguine, a safe haven for these types of vampires to live safely and without fear of starving, going feral, or being killed. But Nightstalkers can never be welcomed there in their feral state, and any that wander into the kingdom are to be put down for fear of them attacking and killing visitors from other lands. Until a cure is found to turn these Nightstalkers back to their original selves, this is how it must be.

One day that may be possible. But for now, they can't be allowed to harm anyone, and there is no shortage of the Nightstalkers to hunt down and kill before they strike.

#original lore #the world of palara #lore of palara #original content

1 note · View note

megashadowdragon · 5 years ago

Text

jaune is salems descendant

dustypotion . tumblr . com/post/189166664747/dustypotion-also-boys-i-made-a-huge-twitter

dustypotion . tumblr . com/post/189592250652/jaune-is-salems-descendent-theory-masterpost/embed

Jaune and Possible Grimm/Magic Influences

Personality Similarities

They also share similar personality traits; incredibly stubborn, not above lying or manipulating to achieve goals (Salem lying to the GoD, Jaune’s transcripts), and are very emotional people.

#rwby #rwby jaune arc #jaune arc #rwby jaune #jaune rwby #rwby volume 7 #rwby volume 7 spoilers #rwby spoilers #rwby theory #rwby theories #rwby theorys #rwby meta #jaune is salems descendant theory

9 notes · View notes

alarawriting · 5 years ago

Text

Inktober #19: Sling

Here’s a scene I alluded to in “Dr. Ultraviolet Meets Her Nemesis” (again, lack of functional website, cannot link because that makes the post unsearchable, but you can click on the tag to find the rest of what I’ve got for Dr. Ultraviolet.)

***

“What exactly is this… stuff?” Ultraviolet asked her sister, with a sneer that she hoped was making it clear she could be using stronger language.

“You asked for books,” Scarlett said, “so I brought you some of mine.”

Ultraviolet tried to count to 10, but Scarlett interrupted at 4. “I think you might really like Chiaoscuro. It’s about a superheroine who falls in love with a magnetic, charismatic villain—”

“It’s a romance novel,” Ultraviolet said.

“Yes. I know they weren’t your favorites but—”

“I despise romance novels,” Ultraviolet said. “Would it have truly killed you to go to a bookstore and get me something I might possibly enjoy, rather than just bringing me whatever dreck you happened to have lying around on your bookshelf?”

“There aren’t any bookstores around here. Everest drove them all out of business. I could have ordered from them, but they’re evil.”

Ultraviolet happened to know that this was absolutely true. The last time she’d been invited to attend the Villainy Connection yearly networking event for supervillains, Everest’s CEO Josh Bevel had been the keynote speaker. Given that she herself was a supervillain, this was hardly a dealbreaker for her. “Libraries exist, then. And what about used book stores?”

“Look, I went out of my way to do you a favor, Violet,” Scarlett said. “It’s not like I don’t have a lot going on. I’ve got four kids, the economy’s been slowing down and people aren’t buying houses so much lately, and I’ve been having issues with Gavin.”

From long experience with her sister, Ultraviolet knew that Scarlett wanted her to ask about her issues with Gavin, but Ultraviolet would have had difficulty caring less. “How hard is it to bring me a book that isn’t a godawful romance novel? Do I look like the kind of suburban mom who’s wasted her life dreaming of some Mr. Wonderful sweeping her off her feet?”

“It sounds like you’re saying that’s what I am.”

“The shoes don’t just fit, Scarlett, they’re on sale and you have ten pairs in your closet.”

“Fuck you, Violet. I didn’t need to come here. You know, the doctors told me you were in traction and you broke an arm and both legs and you might have fractured a vertebra in your neck, and I was worried about you.”

Ultraviolet sighed. “I appreciate that you were worried—”

“And I didn’t just bring you romance novels. This one, All The Pretty Little Horsies, is about the hunt for a serial killer.”

“What made you think I was interested in true crime, either?” They were in a private ward, but the door was open, nurses bustling around outside, so Ultraviolet didn’t say what she really wanted to, which was “I’m a supervillain, my life is a true crime story, why would I want to read about cops hunting a criminal down?” Admittedly there was a huge difference between her genius and ambitions to reshape the world in the image she wanted, and a mundane serial killer getting his jollies by killing teenage girls or something, but on principle Ultraviolet did not want to be sympathizing with cops.

“Well, it’s kind of like what you do for your career, right?”

Ultraviolet couldn’t control the exasperation in her sigh. “Only in the sense that your career involves selling people haunted houses where evil brownies will crawl out of the walls at night and devour them.”

“That… has nothing to do with what I do.”

“I rest my case.”

“Usually I don’t even sell the houses! I prefer being a buyer’s agent. The seller gets money at closing, but the buyer gets a new future. A place that’s going to change their way of life. Something that might be an anchor, a touchstone for them for the rest of their lives.”

“Scarlett. I don’t care. The point is, I’m not a serial killer, I’m nothing like a serial killer, and we are not in the same line of work. I am a scientist.”

“I thought you were an inventor.”

“I am. I’m an inventor and a scientist. All the greatest inventors were scientists.”

“Thomas Edison wasn’t.”

“Thomas Edison was a liar and a thief who stole everything he did from Nikola Tesla, among others.”

“Henry Ford—”

“—wasn’t even an inventor. Dear lord, Scarlett, what did they teach you in school?”

Scarlett glared at her. “You went to the same school.”

“Yes, but I didn’t learn anything there. Everything I learned was self-study. I didn’t actually pay attention in class.”

“Then how do you know that what they taught me was wrong?”

Ultraviolet glanced up at her IV bag, which was full, and at the clock, which was stubbornly nowhere near the end of visiting hours. “Get me some books about scientists. Preferably books where scientists are right, and everyone else is wrong, and all the people who are wrong get eaten by dinosaurs, and the scientists get to say ‘I told you so’ and end up very wealthy.”

“That’s… really specific.”

“It doesn’t have to be dinosaurs. The people who are wrong could get eaten by aliens. Or viruses.”

“I don’t even know how I’d find a book like that.”

“You’d ask at the library, you heathen. Don’t you read?”

“Yes!” Scarlett snapped. “I read a lot of things! Among them, romance novels and true crime, which are apparently not intellectual enough for the great Doctor Ultraviolet to want to sully her eyeballs—”

“Scarlett! Secret identity!” Ultraviolet whispered in a loud hiss.

“No one’s paying attention.”

“Captain Cosmic knows he dropped me. I wouldn’t put it past him to be searching the local hospitals.”

Cosmic had been trying to fly her to the Max, the ultra-secure supervillain prison that so far, no one had managed to break out of. Ultraviolet had used her nanobot lubricant on him to force him to drop her, without perhaps fully considering the fact that they were a thousand feet in the air by the time it took effect. With lubricant in his eyes and covering his hands, Cosmic couldn’t even see her to catch her, and when he’d flailed around by accident and grabbed her foot by trying to figure out where the screaming was coming from, he hadn’t been able to hold on. She’d had to use her prototype antigravity device to save herself, and it hadn’t had enough power to prevent her from hitting the ground hard enough to break most of her limbs, several ribs, and possibly her neck.

She’d already been in traction for two days, completely immobilized – chest taped, head in a neck brace, legs mummified and hanging from pulleys on poles attached to her bed, arm in a sling. She was bored out of her mind. The only entertainment the hospital offered was a television, and just hearing the sounds of daytime game shows and soap operas and Judge Jeri made her want to kill everyone in the hospital, or at the very least her immediate neighbors on the ward who wouldn’t stop watching that crap. Actually having to see it herself might make her brain fatally overheat with rage.

So when her sister had called and offered to visit, Ultraviolet had begged her to bring books, to alleviate the horrible boredom. But this… dreck wasn’t worth the name “book”. It was a bound collection of paper, containing letters arranged into words that had been assembled to produce some sort of simulation of syntactical meaning, that was all.

“I think if Captain Cosmic was here, there would be a lot more shrieking, and people begging for his autograph.”

“He has a secret identity too. He could be walking right past us dressed as a nurse and you would never guess.”

Scarlett sighed. “All right. I’m sorry I said it, Violet. But you need to stop acting like, just because you’re a genius, everything you don’t like or don’t approve of is stupid. And you could be a little bit grateful. I drove way out of my way to visit you.”

“I’m sure your conscience would have nagged at you if you hadn’t.”

“I tell you what. I’ll go to the library and get your books about scientists, and I’ll bring them by tomorrow.”

“That would be suitable.”

“And I’ll bring Alan. He’s sixteen, so he’s allowed to visit, and I’m sure he’d be thrilled to see his aunt and explain the plot of Battle Island to you, or Kraftwerk, or one of those other video games he’s obsessed with.”

“No! Scarlett, I’m not interested in listening to your offspring prattle on about whatever degenerate pastime has caught his fancy.”

“And I’m not interesting in helping a bitchy older sister who can’t even say thank you, but I’d feel bad about leaving you here all alone. So I’ll bring Alan to entertain you.” Scarlett smiled widely. “I’ll tell him that you’re feeling cranky because you’re in pain, so he should ignore any rude thing you say to him. Since you’d be incapable of asking him to stop politely, I guess that means Alan’s going to have a captive audience tomorrow.”

“Scarlett!”

“See you tomorrow, sis!” Scarlett caroled, and left the room, leaving Ultraviolet to fume about the unfairness of it all. If only she could get decent henches, she could get someone to transport her to her base, where her rapid regeneration machine could heal her within minutes. But no, the union had blacklisted her, and you couldn’t trust non-union henches. Totally unfair. Every other villain had henches lining up around the block – even the ones who routinely shot their own employees. But you mutate the henchmen into anthropomorphic sharks one time… and now, because of that idiot Captain Cosmic and because of the moronic Henchman’s Union, Scarlett was going to force her to listen to her oldest child ramble on about whatever stupid garbage he was in love with right now.

If she could only reach her crutches, she’d get out of this bed and hobble out of the hospital right now.

#inktober 2019 #dr ultraviolet #supers

9 notes · View notes

savegraduation · 5 years ago

Text

“But being a minor is only temporary!”

On the old Fourth Turning forum one day, a teacher who called herself TeacherOfMillies ("Millie" being a diminutive of "Millennial" popular on the board) started a thread in which she wrote about telling her son that he needs to "respect adults". Adina, a Millennial on the board, accused her of ageism. TeacherofMillies' response was:

Adina: Recognizing that minors have different capacities from adults and therefore do not deserve the same rights cannot be put in the same category as racism or sexism. A minority group is a group (such as sex, race or religion) whose membership is normally permanent. People who are born black stay black for life. Adolescence is not permanent. There is no discrimination here.

Then there was the old Pagan message board at AOL, where Brocéliande, a Joneser Wiccan with a 12-year-old son, told me that teens were not a minority group, because a minority group was by definition permanent, with the implied reasoning that discrimination on the basis of age was therefore acceptable.

It happens again and again when youth rights is brought up. Someone will bring up the -isms: sexism, racism, classism, ableism, and by extension, ageism. Someone will then bring up Murray and Herrnstein's The Bell Curve or other ostensibly scientific claims that some demographic groups are statistically more likely than others to be wise or have a higher IQ. Someone might say, "Statistics show that Asians are, on the average, worse drivers", or "Simon Baron-Cohen showed that men are better than women at systemizing tasks and women are better than men at empathizing tasks", or even, turning the tables, "Statistically, women are less likely than men to start wars; does this mean we should deny all men the right to positions of world leaders, even the gentler men, so the world will be safe from the risk of blowing ourselves up?" And then she or he will ask, "If it's not right to deny freedoms to deserving ethnic minorities, or deserving women, or deserving men, just because a large number of other people in their demographic aren't qualified -- it would be discrimination -- why is it OK to deny a mature 17-year-old the right to vote or drink just because some other people her/his age are immature?" And then some defender of the anti-YR position will fumble to defend it by arguing, "Being a minor is only temporary, so age is different from race, gender, or religion!"

Before I go any further into rebutting this argument, let's play this on an honest ground with our terms here. I prefer the term "demographic group" to "minority group". A group does not have to be a minority group to be discriminated against. Males are not a minority group, and the draft discriminates against males. Blacks are not a minority group in South Africa, where only 10% of the population is White, and apartheid discriminated against the Black majority. But males and Black South Africans are demographic groups, and prejudicial treatment against them is discrimination. Discrimination simply means treating someone wrongly differently because of her or his demographic group. And no one can argue with the fact that teens are a demographic group (as are seniors, for what it's worth!) When you say "minority group", you're really saying "demographic group that has traditionally been at a social disadvantage in the society/civilization in question" (in this case, the United States, or the West). So it's not "minority group", but "demographic group" that's the relevant concept here.

The first problem with this argument is that the impermanence of being a minor ("An American who was born Black could never wake up one day and be White all of a sudden!"), while making this different from other forms of discrimination, is not really relevant to the issue of whether discrimination is justified. One can pull up interesting differences when comparing two things, but just because those differences exist, it does not necessarily follow that said differences are relevant to right and wrong. For example, one might argue that in England, committing murder with a knife is different from committing murder with a gun because knives are legal to own in England, just not to use for murder, whereas guns are outright illegal to so much as possess. While this as a fact in and of itself is true, is this difference in any way germane to whether an Englishman killing someone with a knife is morally acceptable, or whether it should be legal to murder someone with a knife in England? Exactly how does the temporariness of membership in a group make discrimination defensible? I don't think that if that person became White one day and was finally allowed to vote because of it in the pre-1860's world, he or she would forgive and forget all the needless discrimination in the past!

Secondly, being mistreated during one's teen-age years will stay with a person for life. Your world does not become a clean slate again once you reach the legal age to do something; rather, the pain of discrimination from the past carries on.

A butterfly that flaps its wings when you are 13 will still have the ripple effect going when you are 40. For example, if 15-year-old Rachel's parents restrict her from taking the courses that competitive colleges like by refusing to sign her course selection form until it is whittled down to the dumbed-down classes that satisfy their anti-intellectualism, Rachel will have a very hard time getting into the colleges she wants by the time she's applying for colleges her senior year. As an adult, her opportunities will be limited against her will because of the choices her parents made for her against her will as a teen-ager.

In 2016, a 16-year-old boy named Gary Ruot was diagnosed with Leber hereditary optic neuropathy (LHON), an ocular disease that causes rapid degeneration and ultimately leads to blindness. The only hope for Ruot was a treatment called gene therapy, for which GenSight Biologics was running a trial for the treatment of LHON. However, the FDA had only approved the gene therapy LHON trial for patients over 18. By the time Ruot would turn 18, it would be too late, and he would be blind. Ruot's relative, Avery Wilson, posted a petition on Change.org, demanding the FDA lower the age for this trial to 16. Less than three months later, the FDA did the right thing and lowered the age for the trial, and Gary Ruot was saved. But what if the FDA had not reduced the age to 16? By the time Ruot was 18, he would be blind, and it would be too late for the gene therapy to save him. He could turn 21, 25, 30, 50, 75, and 100, and he would still be blind.

And what if your parents take you to get a circumcision before you are old enough to legally say no to an operation? Your foreskin isn't going to magically grow back once you reach the age of medical consent (which, in the U.S. varies depending on your jurisdiction, from 15 in Oregon to 19 in Alabama). Judging by the arguments ageists use against 12-year-old boys being allowed to say no to circumcision, you’d think they were convinced a boy’s foreskin will magically regenerate on his eighteenth birthday! Similarly, we're now hearing news stories about teens who live in states where under18s may not get vaccinated without their parents' permission researching vaccination on the Internet and often driving (or, if under 16, being driven by a friend) into states where minors do not need parental permission to be vaccinated. If some teen's Christian Scientist parents say no to a vaccination, and then s/he is exposed to the bacterium Bordetella pertussis or the rubella virus at 16, and catches pertussis or rubella, the teen will most likely die before her/his eighteenth birthday of a preventable disease -- are you seriously then going to defend this with the "But being a minor is only temporary!" argument?

The emotional enscarment that comes from being hurt by age-discriminatory laws will also last for the rest of one's life. If someone goes through a gulag school where he is subject to waterboarding, electroshock therapy, straitjacketing, and sensory deprivation, he may eventually be out of it as an adult, but by then the damage will be done. He will suffer the trauma for the rest of his life. Survivors of conversion therapy may be past conversion therapy, but by now they're 8.9 times as likely as their peers to consider suicide. Since I was 6, I suffered from a mental disorder called logaesthesia, where I taste words and have the sensations of swallowing them. The words I don't like I have to "purge" out by scraping my nails against my groin and then "vomiting" them up by carrying my nails over my abdomen, chest and throat. All the "socialization" I received in high school, all the being forced to do things, all the fascist comments that my behavior was "inappropriate" or "socially unacceptable", haunt me to this very day. I'm 39 now. Every day I still think back weekly to run-ins with authoritarian teachers that happened during my school years over both logaesthesia and other conflicts that came up. I have flashbacks, I bite myself, I slam my fist against my head, and punch my abdomen as if slicing open a watermelon, I yell. If I had only been given the chance to stop going to school, to live away from my parents, to move to Berkeley, I may have been able to get away from it before too much damage was done.

People who have been arrested under status laws may feel the effects of the arrest for the rest of their lives. Many employers would not hire a 30-year-old if they dug in his records and found he had been arrested for underage drinking at age 19. In California, where Proposition 21 eliminated the automatic sealment of one's juvenile record upon reaching 18, a conviction for breaking a city's curfew law at age 15 could put off potential employers. And the social stigma will attach to the arrested ex-minor from many people who know, firsthand or secondhand, about the arrest.

And what if you die during your teens? Then your adolescence will indeed become permanent. If you die before age 18, you will never have the chance to vote for or against a president. If you abided by the law stating no one is to drink alcohol until his or her twenty-first birthday, then you got drafted and went to war rather than dodging the draft, and got killed in war at the age of 20, you would die without ever having the chance to try alcohol. You think a belated "sorry" is going to make that OK?

The choices adults make for minors may even last beyond their terrene life and carry beyond the grave. For example, a recently deceased 17-year-old may have his organs harvested for donation against his consent. Or imagine that Blebdahism is the one true religion, that God is a Blebdahist and believes anyone who betrays Blebdahism is sentenced to Hell. But one young person who believes in Blebdahism deep down in his heart may have parents who are Sporgalists. In the United States, the parents may, by law, force their child to practice Sporgalism even though it is wrong, which would thereby condemn not only the parents, but also their child, to Hell for refusing to practice the rituals of Blebdahism. Since no one knows God's exact sentiments, one could not promise children that God would understand if they betrayed their religion only because they were forced; it could very well be that God thinks conforming to parental force is no excuse for not following Blebdahism, even for part of one's life, and still refuses to let those youth into Heaven, regardless. Of course, it may very well be that God understands people who betray their religion because of coercion by authority, that several religious paths lead to "Heaven", or even that Heaven does not really exist . . . but what if those aren't the case? Or suppose, arguendo, that God does let people into Heaven who practiced Sporgalism as minors but converted to Blebdahism as adults, but not people who were still practicing Sporgalism when they died. What if the child of Sporgalist parents who wants to practice Blebdahism gets hit by a truck at age 15? She'll never get another chance at practicing Blebdahism, and will be stuck spending an eternity in Hell. And the Blebdahist child of Sporgalist parents will probably be buried, in accordance with her parents' wishes, in a Sporgalist cemetery, where her body will lie forever . . . and ever . . . and ever.

Thirdly, lost time is never found again. Everyone only has a finite time to live -- at least until human life extension technology is invented, and we don't know how soon that will be. If the first 18 years of a 90-year life are spent in chains, that's one whole fifth of your life -- lost forever. Say a girl named Danielle wants to wear dreadlocks starting at the time she begins high school in September of 2016, at the age of 14 years and 6 months, but her school clamps down and forbids her to wear dreadlocks because they are against the dress code. Danielle graduates in June of 2020 at the age of 18 years and 3 months. She is then free to wear dreadlocks, until she dies the day after her eightieth birthday. She got 61 years and 9 months to wear her dreadlocks, but if her high school hadn't disallowed them it would have been 65 years and 6 months of her life. God is not going to magically add 3 years and 9 months to her life, allowing her to live to 83.75, to make up for the years she could have spent dreadlocked but was wrongly denied the right to.

An election only comes once. A person born in 1980 would not get to vote until 1998, and the thousands of decisions voted on in 1996 and 1997 did not have that person's say. He may get to vote on 1998 propositions or in the 2000, 2004, 2008, 2012, 2016, and 2020 elections, but it is already too late for him to vote in the Clinton-Dole election of 1996, which is lost forever in the annals of history. For any of the bad decisions of voters leading up to the current day, there’s a possibility it could have been avoided being passed had more young people, those who were 16 and 17, been allowed to vote.

Fourthly, ethnicity is the platonic prototype of a demographic variable and racism of discrimination, and every other demographic variable about humans has something about it that makes it different from race and unique from other demographic variables.

Take gender and sexism, for instance. Gender is a universally recognized trait; the gender someone is assigned at birth would be the same across the world in more than 99% of cases. Someone's race may be labeled as Mulatto or Mestizo or Black in Cuba but Hispanic in the United States. In one society, having sex with another person of your gender automatically makes you gay, whereas in another society, it is viewed as natural to experiment even if you are straight, and a third society may have no concept of "sexual orientation” whatsoever. The legal ages for things differ from country to country. Someone with epilepsy is viewed as disabled in modern countries but as having special, supernatural powers in the Hmong culture, and what is seen as ADD in the context on one culture is "normal" in a traditional nomadic culture. But everywhere around the world, someone with a penis and testicles is assigned male at birth and someone with a vagina and ovaries is assigned female at birth. (Defining someone by their karyotype -- XX vs. XY vs. various trisomies and polysomies like Klinefelter's syndrome -- is a twentieth and twenty-first century development, and even then, fewer than 1% of births are ambiguous or "intersex" when external genitalia, gonads, and chromosomes are taken into account.) Some people turn out trans, and there are some special gender categories, such as the berdaches/Two-spirit people in Native American cultures or the Thai kathoey, or ladyboys, in some cultures, but even then the person's biological sex is still acknowledged. Even in the relatively trans-friendly United States, the Selective Service system still has laws on the books requiring transfemales to register but denying transmales registry, because gender assigned at birth is so hardwired into the law. In 2002, in the case of In re Estate of Gardiner, the Kansas Supreme Court ruled that a man and a transwoman could not marry, because the transwoman was male before the law and Kansas did not recognize same-sex marriages at the time.

Religion and religious discrimination are unique because unlike other demographic variables, people choose their religion. No one chooses to be male, or Chinese, or gay, or 23 years old, or disabled (unless they deliberately stab their eyes out or jump off a height to make themselves paraplegic). But people have control over what religion they practice, and this makes religion different.

Sexual orientation and homophobia are different because sexual orientation revolves around certain behaviors, and behaviors that certain factions and individuals believe are immoral at that. No one gets arrested for the mere condition of being African-American, or female, or teen-age. No one believes that blind people will burn in Hell. But many nations still have sodomy laws on the books making gay sex illegal (this included several U.S. states as late as 2003). Many churches teach that LGBT people will burn in Hell after they die. There are no controversial behaviors that are defining of Blackness, or defining of womanhood, or defining of adolescence. But sexual orientation is about what someone does just as much as what she or he is.

Disability and ableism are different because a disability can render someone by definition unable to do something. An example would be paraplegics being unable to do work that requires you to walk on feet. Men are generally stronger than women, but there are amazonian women and plenty of weak men. Stating that 20-year-olds are too immature to drink but 21-year-olds are mature enough to drink is a loose generalization. Some psychologists, most notably the White Charles Murray and the Jewish Richard J. Herrnstein, in The Bell Curve, make claims that average IQ of African-Americans is lower than that of Whites, which is in turn lower than the average IQ of Asians. There are disputes as to whether these statistics come from culturally biased IQ tests written by upper-middle-class White males, and many people believe there is no difference in intelligence among ethnic groups at all. Others believe that different ethnic groups and different genders have different tendencies towards strengths and weaknesses, such as Dr. Simon Baron-Cohen's theory of female empathizing and male systemizing. Whether the Bell Curve statistics are legitimate or not, though, no one can deny you find bright people and dim people -- even a few autistic savants with extremely lopsided abilities -- in all racial/ethnic groups. But blind people driving? This form of discrimination based on disability is recognized as "bona fide discrimination", and actually is legal in certain cases in many jurisdictions across the world. On the other hand, forbidding an epileptic to become a lawyer or refusing to let someone with cerebral palsy into your cake shop would most certainly not be bona fide discrimination, and pointing out this way disability is different from other demographic variables would not be an acceptable argument.

Socioeconomic class and classism are different because class is mutable (yes, possibly temporary!) in some societies but not in others. If you live in present-day Nashville or Los Angeles, you can rise to the top echelons just by being a great singer or actor. If you lived in Edwardian England, on the other hand, being a prole pretty much meant you were stuck being a prole, all your lower-class ways and mannerisms hard-wired into your identity. Rising in social class was very difficult.

Every rights movement has its own hurdles to overcome, and people who shout, "But this is different!" cause every rights movement to have to start at square one. A good example is Martin Luther King's niece, Alveda King, who fights against the gay rights movement and argues that homosexuality flies in the face of "family values" and therefore cannot be compared to the Civil Rights movement. Youth rights, like women's rights, LGBT rights, disability rights, and civil rights for ethnic and religious minorities, are human rights, and human rights supporters today don't say that being free from anti-Islamic discrimination isn't a human right because people choose their religion, or that being free from sexism isn't a human right because sex is a biological reality instead of just a social construct.

Finally, the transience of temporary pain or damage has never excused hurting people. As someone on the forum for National Youth Rights Association (NYRA) once wrote about people you argue that discrimination against teens is acceptable because minority is temporary: "Someone should give them a hard punch in the face. After all, it will only hurt for a little while". Damage can be temporary (even though damage caused by ageism is NOT always temporary), such as the 7-year-old who gives his baby sister a bad haircut, knowing it will grow back. But, as Martin Luther King famously stated in 1963 in his Letter from Birmingham Jail, "Justice too long delayed is justice denied". Perhaps no infliction of suffering should be illegal because life itself is only temporary, and therefore all of a person's suffering will one day come to an end?

"But!", you say, "What about the definition? You can't deny that a minority group is a permanent group, like female, or Chinese, or lower-class, or Hindu, and therefore teens are not a minority group!"

Putting aside the "minority group" vs. "demographic group" issue, the problem is this: what you've got here is an ad hoc definition. It's what logicians call the definist fallacy. Let's look at the definition of "minority" (definition 3a) in Merriam Webster's Webster's Unabridged: "A part of a population differing from others in some characteristics and often subjected to differential treatment". No mention of the membership in that group being permanent. Next, Wiktionary defines "minority group" as: "A group that forms only a small part of the population, whether it be for ethnic or other reasons". Still no mention of being permanent. Finally, for something different, let's look at the Collins COBUILD dictionary's definition (definition 2): "A minority is a group of people of the same race, culture, or religion who live in a place where most of the people around them are of a different race, culture, or religion". This excludes age, but this definition is so narrow that it also excludes such undisputed minorities as lesbians, transgender people, and the blind! Does that mean the U.S. government should feel free to round up gay people or people with bipolar disorder, since they're not protected by the definition of "minority group"?

As a matter of fact, some published, professional authors have referred to youth as a minority group. In 1971, Edward Sagarin edited a book titled The Other Minorities, which consisted of essays concerning the minority status of non-ethnic minorities: there are essays on women, gays, teens, the elderly, the disabled, criminals, and even intellectuals as minority groups. From pages 95 to 107 is Edgar Z. Friedenberg's essay "The Image of the Adolescent Minority". In it, Friedenberg writes: "In the most formal sense, then, the adolescent is one of our second-class citizens. But the informal aspects of minority status are also imputed to him. The 'teen-ager', like the Latin or Negro, is seen as joyous, playful, lazy, and irresponsible, with brutality lurking just below the surface and ready to break out into violence. All these groups are seen as childish and excitable, imprudent and improvident, sexually aggressive, and dangerous, but possessed of superb and sustained power to satisfy sexual demands. West Side Story is not much like Romeo and Juliet, but it is a great deal like Porgy and Bess." Friedenberg recognizes how facile stereotypes of teen-agers are about as respectful as the old "minstrel show" stereotype of African-Americans.

"But!", you object, "I'm just saying teens aren't a minority group!" Then if the question of whether teens are a minority group isn’t relevant to whether anti-youth discrimination is acceptable (and it isn't, given all the other problems with the "temporariness" argument), then why are you even bringing it up?

Teens are a (very often) oppressed demographic group. Discrimination against teens is still discrimination. The fact that unless you die before your twenty-first birthday you will not be underage forever does not justify your parents dictating what high school courses you will take, or you being denied the rights to medical consent, or you getting arrested for breaking curfew or underage drinking, or you being denied the vote at 16. So please don't use this argument.

2 notes · View notes

bluemoonpunch · 6 years ago

Text

⭐ The External Alignment of Kim Namjoon - Oracle Reading

[The External Alignment of Kim Namjoon, born September 12, 1994 — Virgo. The External Alignment reading is designed to showcase an individual’s alignment with external energies such as Gods/Goddesses, Guides, or Guardians. For this reading, in particular, I use the Wisdom of the Oracle deck. This spread is an original design by me. This reading is being featured as part of the December BTS Overload event.]

This reading was performed on November 26, 2018.

Pre-Reading:

I was really hoping for more to come out with Namjoon’s reading, but things were actually pretty quiet compared to everyone else. There’s a good reason for that though. He’s integrating just like everyone else, but his conscious state is still being brought back up to speed in terms of connection and alignment. On my end, it seemed really complicated because there seemed to be a million things going on at once, but apparently, it’s being handled without him having to actually do much other than pay attention to how he himself is feeling. That’s it.

Right now there is a lot of open space around his energy and it’s almost like they’re literally prepping him to go through a rapid integration like Hoseok. They’re giving him room to work his shit out on a conscious level, but on an energetic and soul level things are being moved around and seeded for him to continuously nudge him in the right direction with his awareness and inner connection.

-full reading with photos under the cut-

Because there wasn’t really that much to look at or do while in his energy, I just focused on the physical sensation and even that was pretty clear.

The breathing was very, very even and smooth. Body movements are very fluid and loose, almost like moving in slow motion. I was seeing this as thought being put into action, or very careful movements being made with a steady mind. I was a little confused by that and where exactly that sensation was coming from, but later on, I realized that that is what his Guides are currently trying to push towards him. Slowing down the mind and focusing on what he’s been doing will allow him to really zero in on where he had given up his control and will then allow him to take it back and move on with purpose.

I made a note as well that there could even be an awareness of the conscious disconnect from the Higher Self on some level.

While focusing on his energy I was seeing that he had this purple pulsing light coming from his head, it almost looked like a halo, but it was sitting around his head at ear level, so it was covering his eyes. That visual of him made it look like he was unconscious, which is a good representation of what his Higher Self is at right now. Not really unconscious, just integrating while there’s also conscious level shifts being handled by his Guides. This is what Yoongi’s Guides wanted him to do.

There was a lot of tension in the throat which is something I’ve gotten for him before. It was around the time that the Soul Body Healing started to manifest on a conscious level and he was starting to reconnect. His conscious mind gets very stimulated because if he’s connected he’s channeling almost constantly, and therefore really wants to talk to people, especially his audience. He wants to get things out into the open, express himself, and that’s mainly because what’s going through his head is stuff that’s going to help shift awareness and consciousness in tiny increments. So, he’s at that stage right now because of the integration as well as the conscious seeding.

Because I wasn’t really able to see or do anything in his energy I was going to tap out at this point, but before I could I got a visual of Namjoon standing in the middle of a river and there were these stepping stones at the surface. He was just standing on one and staring down at the water and he looked scared to be there, but like he was trying to build up the courage to take another step.

I had no fucking idea what that was but at the last second, I thought back to his and Jin’s relationship reading and how I saw Jin trying to deliver Water and Fire to Namjoon’s tree in preparation for an internal shift.

So… I guess that’s what that was. It’s emotional purging, literally having all that past nonsense that got built up from literally handing his soul over to other people is being washed away. Like, he has to actually process it though, it’s not just going to disappear. That might be why he’s freaking out. He’s going to have to go back into a slightly self-loathing state in order to be critical of himself clear down to his very soul, and then from there rebuild very quickly.

I was shown with that that he will, in fact, immerse himself at some point though.

The last bit I saw for this as I was getting ready to close this out was that he’s building up a balance like his Higher Self is building up balance energetically and the whole build up thing is literally coming from the fact that they have to start from scratch. "They” being him, his Higher Self, and his Guides.

Then I saw that Yoongi and Namjoon are actually working together, or they’re meant to be working in sync with each other to help the others, or to “pull them” along, but Namjoon is behind because of that disconnect and pretty much needing to remake his own conscious perception as a whole. Very interesting.

I guess Yoongi is meant to be anchoring in energy for all seven of them to shift internally while Namjoon is supposed to be triggering the conscious shifts, but obviously, he can’t do that until he himself has shifted on that level.

That also may be what Yoongi is waiting for as well. Just waiting for Namjoon to get his shit together before the world comes to an end, I guess.

I specifically asked to be shown what his core state is at the moment seeing as how it, to me, looked like he was unconscious, and this is what I got.

Quite a lot going on there but that’s exactly what I was getting in terms of how he has like a million things going on around him. In a sense, if you could imagine Namjoon to be anywhere in this layout, he’d be smack dab in the middle between Death, Judgment, The Emperor, and the 8 of Pentacles. He’s there, but he’s not there. That part of him is having a nap right now because this shit is exhausting.

Around him, all this stuff is happening in order to bring that conscious shift, and when that happens, the floodgates will open and he’ll get that rapid integration like Hoseok, only faster.

I’ll try to just summarize this nonsense real quick.

His Guides are connecting to his subconscious mind, which is the bridge between the conscious and the unconscious — unconscious being the seat of the Higher Self who is currently having a nap — and therefore are the primary driving force in this shift or clearing of the conscious mind.

They are doing this, as I said, by pretty much just dropping bits and pieces of understanding towards his own relinquishing of control and his own disconnect from his inner knowing. They’re just presenting him with these ideas to get him thinking. They can’t just force him into knowing it, he has to figure it out on his own because, you know, free will and all that.

While that’s happening, there’s also this attempt to reconnect his inner knowing to his conscious awareness, so not only are they trying to get a reformed consciousness towards himself, they need him to also start establishing connection to the soul on a conscious level as well because that is where his understanding is towards his soul purpose. The loss of the soul connection was what made it possible for him to disconnect completely as that is what keeps his heart or passion in the forefront of his mind.

Basically, he forgot why he started all this because he got freaked out about how big things were getting and just stopped trusting himself to be the one to create what he started viewing as their product rather than their message.

It was a whole thing.

So, all of that is kind of getting mushed together in the 8 of Pentacles where his Guides are literally working on him, like finetuning him just like the man in the image is perfecting his pentacle. The actual goal here is to get him back to the 3 of Wands where all that passion of the soul and understanding of his purpose is and bring Death, or transformation, to The Emperor.

...it’s a bit literal there. They’re killing off the idea that he can’t be his own authority when it comes to his work and his artistry.

Once that happens he’ll be at The Empress where integration will occur and he will sync up with Yoongi — mixing of the core energy after HS integration, so Water and Earth creating the fertile soil of The Empress — and then from there they will be emitting those frequencies just as I’ve mentioned in the past few readings in relations to the Sun.

Pretty intense shit, very confusing, but clearly they’re getting shit down, which is good.

The Reading:

Most Prominent External Influence:

Regeneration

The Fates

Lol, literally.

Just to repeat myself, his Guides are working on bringing him back to where he was and to realign with his soul purpose so they can get shit done again.

The Regeneration card was a big thing for them before in the OT7 2018/2019 Outlook reading (the original one) and it was this whole thing about how they were supposed to start integrating the Higher Self, but they didn’t because of the whole Soul Body manipulation and Namjoon disconnecting the whole body from their source energy.

Here, this card is literally like they’re going backward, they’re backtracking in order to get him back in line with The Fates or his soul purpose. That’s why he has to actually process everything in a very emotional and not intellectual way, which is very hard for him to do when it’s his own shit he’s dealing with. He’s always got to turn everything into a learning experience, he can never just feel shit and move on.

So, yeah, pretty simple, they’re just working on getting him up to speed again.

Conscious Alignment: Blessed

I like how this is put because, obviously, when you think of someone being blessed you think of things being handed to them without really having to do anything, and that’s literally where he is on a conscious level. All he really has to do is think and align with what he himself, internally and in his heart, wants to do, and that’s it. Everything else is being handled for him.

His alignment is literally perfect, much better than Yoongi’s since Mr. Pisces Man Min Yoongi feels the need to hold up the sails in spite of the fact that they’ve got a whole crew manning their ship now, lol. Just by simply being aware and open to considering his own mistakes and where he may have dropped the ball on a few things is exactly what he needs to do and he’s doing it.

How The Alignment Manifests: Truth Be Told

This is just that shift in consciousness and awareness, and it could still point to him becoming consciously aware of his soul disconnect as well. I’m leaning more towards him not only seeing where he messed up but also seeing where other people, such as the company, also messed up.

The eyes of the owl were what I was really focused on in this card, so it’s really giving that vibe of him being able to see this shit, but probably not talking about it. Like, he’ll get it and he’ll act on it, but it’s not going to be this huge earth-shattering revelation. He’ll simply start seeing things from a slightly elevated perspective, just seeing the bigger picture.

How To Maintain The Alignment:

Milk and Honey

Peace

Both of these cards were in Yoongi’s reading and they’re both literally carrying the same energy. All he needs to do is take care of himself, be kind to himself, and not act in resistance to any of the shifts and reformations taking place on a conscious level. He just has to be the egg and sit there and let it happen. Simple as that.

Where Will This Alignment Lead:

Loyal Heart

Time To Go

These two cards came out together and as soon as they hit the table I wrote down, “act through the heart” which was what I got for Jin as well.

All that jazz about Jin pretty much being handed the world as long as he acted from his heart, from his soul. It’s the same thing here with Namjoon. That reconnect will bring back that passion, that need to really run with what he feels the world needs to hear rather than what the masses want to hear.

Even with the owls in the image of Loyal Heart, it’s like the owl from the Truth Be Told card was able to see so clearly that it started to see itself. It’s staring at its own soul, working in tandem with the soul or Higher Self, and that is where his drive is. That is how he fulfills his purpose.

Just like all of them, as long as they are acting from the heart, they are acting from the soul, and that is as simple and easy as it gets when it comes to fulfilling the soul purpose.

That’s all I have for this one, thanks for reading!

Shop | Full Blog Navigation | Idol / Celeb Readings | Mini-Readings | Weekly Readings

23 notes · View notes