#i have too many feelings about this flamethrower child and this is just an attempt to articulate some of them

[inamindfarfaraway]

Do you ever think about Azula after Zuko's banishment and before she was sent on her mission? About the time it was just her and Ozai? Because I do.

Her worst fear is being what Zuko is to their father. It's easy to look at her smirking while she watches Ozai light Zuko’s face on fire and think that she enjoys her brother’s suffering, but from the day she was born, Zuko has been the bad example. The scapegoat. The failure she exists to surpass. Where he is disrespectful, she will be obedient. Where he is weak, she will be strong. She will make Ozai proud. She will be perfect. She has to be. Because if she isn’t -

well, in that moment she sees that for herself. Iroh looks away, but she doesn’t. This eleven-year-old child watches the whole gory scene that her experienced general uncle can’t stomach, because this is a lesson for her as well, that’s why Father had her be here, and so she must not let herself tremble or cry or flinch or scream. Zuko is. That means she can’t. Instead she will do the exact opposite, smile with a princess’s proper posture.

Then Zuko is banished. He will most likely never return - most likely die young. He isn’t around to be the foil under her jewel anymore, making her shine brighter simply by contrast. (Or to play with her or comb her hair. But it isn’t useful or becoming to miss those moments. She isn’t a child anymore; her childhood was burned through like Zuko’s skin.) All Ozai’s attention is on her. All her people’s hope in the next generation of royalty rests in her. If she doesn’t hold her shoulders back and keep her head high, she will collapse under the weight of her nation’s future. Zuko got what he deserved. Just as whatever happens to her, she deserves it too.

How many nightmares does she have? How many times does she flinch or shake when her father touch her? Or force herself not to? How many times does she smell burning hair and flesh and hear her brother’s agony when she spoke her own opinion in a war meeting? How much does she secretly grieve him, and scold herself for it?

[mormon-character-tournament]

My OC's name is Lehi Jackson (I actually named him after my science teacher who was a member of the church lol). There's quite a lot about him, but I'll sum it up the best I can.

He was born in 1958 in Minnesota to two members and he's the middle child of five children. He grew up in a pretty strict and religious household. He was also somewhat a pyromaniac, but he tries to control it. He making fires through lighters and his own inventions. He was a smart man and loved science and robotics from a young age. He was a studious kid and, after serving his mission in Santiago, Chile, he attends BYU Provo.

His Freshman year was a struggle for him. Not academically, but for himself spiritually and sexually. Lehi's a gay guy and he kept that a secret from many people throughout his entire life. However, he found two guys in college who he was interested in and they were interested in him. They kept their secret as hushed as possible. But when these two guys started doing things Lehi just couldn't morally accept, he decided to leave this relationship and focus on academics above anything else. He graduated earlier than he expected and started getting to work. He was steadfast and passionate about machinery and managed to work as a freelancer.

A handful of years after college, he felt pretty lonely. Having grown up in a community where family is strongly encouraged, Lehi always wanted to have a family of his own. However, he didn't want to be with a guy because of his devotion to Mormonism, but he didn't want to be with a woman because he didn't want to use or manipulate anyone's feelings. Having always wanted a child, he decides to adopt an 8 year old girl from Chile since he served his mission there and still practices his Chilean Spanish.

Her name is Emma and he instantly fell in love with her. He treated her the best he could and tries to be the best father he could to her. He did spoil her a little and was a bit over protective, but he tried not to smother her either. Since she's from another country, he tries to find a community and people she could relate to. He also learned how to cook food from her heritage and spoke in Spanish with her often. He also spoke with her in English a lot too to make sure she was able to communicate well with her peers.

When Emma was 16 and out on a date, she and her date were murdered in 1988. This drove Lehi into a depression and a strong disdain for guns. For the next year, his grief and mourning turned into anxiety, paranoia, and cognitive disturbances. During this time, Lehi watched some politics and George HW Bush was just elected president. Knowing of Bush's pro-gun stances and the Stockton shooting, made something snap within Lehi. Out of rage and despair, he modified one of his flamethrowers and heads to the White House. He attempts to burn down the building and the president, but he only ends up burning himself alive on the White House lawn.

Now he's in a purgatory with other fictional political assassins and learning how to overcome his struggles and trauma.

Here's his face, but I'm still debating on whether or not I should give him the beard or not (there's also another version with a mustache, but I haven't made it digital yet lol)

Sorry if this was a lot, but I hope you like him <3

So this story emotionally destroyed me 💔

I love Lehi and the complexity of his story and also he looks very polite (for an attempted assassin)

Also I did get your correction, he was born 1954, not 1958! Good to know.

Is this part of a story you are planning on publishing? I would love to know more!

I hope everyone is having a great conference weekend!

[himbodjarin]

LUNAR

18+  Content: Eventual descriptions of gore and smut. Third person POV. Chapter Word Count: 2203 Pairing: Din Djarin/F!Reader  - no usage of “y/n”

The Mandalorian is a driven warrior — traversing the galaxy in search of the ancient Jedi — but everyone has their weaknesses, and he’s no different. The Bounty Hunter possessed three in fact. One he’s discovered—The Child. The remaining two, though, he wasn’t aware of their existence. At least, not until he meets a valorous Sharpshooter underneath a moonless night sky; then he’s plummeting down a dark mission of self-discovery, questioning his morals and his Creed while the moon taunts him, the phases of the satellite corresponding to his personal revelations. However, the Girl has a dark past that may come to inflict hardships on the Mandalorian and the Child; it's up to the Bounty Hunter to decide her fate.

Read on AO3 / Series Masterlist

CHAPTER ONE: ARVALA-7

The Razor Crest is the closest thing to The Mandalorian’s home, there wasn’t a situation the spacecraft hadn’t emerged triumphant albeit attaining minimal scathes of blaster fire. She’s an old vessel commissioned sometime before the Galactic Empire’s formation, the Mandalorian is grateful he’s privileged to possess such a durable warship, it compliments his style perfectly.

Although, as the craft whines at Mando’s persistent thumbing of controls, he was beginning to resent the body of duralloy surrounding him. The walls shake violently against the atmospheric changes and the left engine slows to a stop, crashing against a stray object within the propellers. He fights against the increasing velocity, eager on not crashing into the all-too-familiar dusty planet nearing closer.

He hopes Kuiil is accepting of a visitor.

Mando surveys the gunship before him, a piece of exterior panelling collapses to the ground underneath the resting Crest and the whirs of a slowing engine clash against the whistling wind, and he sighs. It’s not an easy fix, not this time. The Guild is increasing the numbers against him and with it, the blaster fire directed towards him has improved; pilots are becoming gallant, stupid, credit-hungry.

At least he’s a good pilot, a skill he feels pride for possessing.

Even so, the Crest is a bulky hull and his skills can’t avoid the few unfortunate circumstances that come with it. The spacecraft is in bad shape, worst it’s ever been in and he fears even the Ugnaught cannot assist with this, but he can’t waste time - can’t stay in one location for too long. If his short time on Sorgan taught him anything, it’s to not allow himself attachments nor liabilities.

Arvala-7 hasn’t changed — hasn’t improved — since he was last here, collecting the asset for a hefty reward that now encases his body. The asset — The Child, remained in the sleeping berth, undeterred by the convulsions. Mando contemplates not to wake him and visit Kuiil for assistance, but he’s reminded of Peli Motto’s stern words— You can’t just leave a child all alone like that!

Regardless of the fact the planet is a deserted wasteland, he knows she’s right.

Besides, if the Jawa’s were to ransack the Crest again, they might use the Child as a bargaining chip.

Substrate crunches underneath Mando’s weighted boots as he nears the boarding ramp to collect the Child. The tips of his toes reach the incline but he stops, pauses, thinks. There’s a shift in the wind before it settles flatly, dissipating as though it never existed. It’s silent, dead, until it wasn’t. There’s a sharp hiss echoing through the valleys, one he’s heard too many times and he promptly turns to catch a streak of burning red an inch away from his visor and nestling a hole into the battered ship.

Mando scans the bouldered landscape and concurrently keys at his vambrace, activating his thermal vision to assist in his hunt for the perpetrator; thankful for the night sky enhancing the opportunity. He stops short, visor targeting a glimmer of warm orange heat on the rocky peaks. Mando’s hand instinctively hovers over his holstered blaster, but they’re too far, too high for him to manage a decent shot. With the rifle locked in the Crest, he’s practically defenceless albeit for the flash charges and flamethrower in his vambrace.

Resorting to flash charges in this circumstance is futile. There aren’t sufficient charges to obstruct their vision long enough for him to reach their positioning. Of course, the flamethrower is even worse; he’d consider himself lucky if it extended a mere two metres ahead of him. He’s easy pickings — too vulnerable, and it intimidates him.  

He’s never felt so insignificant...so...powerless.

Leather toggles at his vambrace and the visor magnifies its vision before his eyes. Mando observes the figure, analyses it, and follows the direction of the barrel’s aim. It’s actively locked onto him, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t show submission before them.

It’s assertive and so stupid.

It’s, in all probability, a Guild member here to lay claim to two rewards—Mando, for his betrayals, and the Child, for high compensations. Although the reward for the Child alone outweighs the Mandalorian’s. They could end him right here and now, steal the Child and be back on Nevarro within a few days; they should for it they don’t, he will put up a fight.

The sharpshooter readjusts their positioning, the barrel of the rifle tilting down an inch and another blast of crimson slashes through the air, wisps of wind trailing behind the high-velocity beam. It kicks up dirt upon its impact between his boots, dust and pebbles flicking into his lower beskar.

They’re not aiming for him at all, Mando realises. It’s possible that they’re a poor marksman, but was it plausible? Their posture is riddled with years of experience and discovered confidence; they’re no amateur. Mando is sure of it.

Which means they’re attempting to threaten him, frighten him enough for him to evacuate the lands. He doesn’t submit that easily. Perhaps they were hiding something — there’s no point in empty threats among land that possesses no treasures — and maybe it was valuable, or, Mando hums in thought, maybe something sinister he shouldn’t involve himself in.

Arvala-7 isn’t a planet of overly aggressive inhabitants, although the last he was here he did wipe out an entire Nikto encampment; there had to be others of their kind parading the planet in search of him.

Even with the assistance of his magnified vision, the figure was blurred and unreadable. Mando couldn’t even see a speck of skin underneath all the body armour and their face was obstructed by hard tan rock formations.

Mando thinks of the tan-pink face of the Ugnaught, the white whiskers lining his jowls, the weathered brown goggle cap, and how he failed to mention an overly territorial sharpshooter inhabiting the lands.

Blast! Kriffing Ugnaught!

Isn’t that something a tourist should be made aware of upon entering unknown terrain?

Mando gazes through his visor and observes the prone figure. If this was any other ordinary blaster fight, he’d have won by now; would’ve simply pulled for his Amban phase-pulse rifle and disintegrated the threat until there was nothing left but their dust kicking in the wind. He would have already been heading to Kuiil’s moisture farm and complained about his lack of notice of the ambush.

It wasn’t any normal fight, though. Mando can sense something from them and he doesn’t like it; not what he senses but why he senses it.

He’s a practical man.

He works with his hands and his mind, and doesn't tap into intuitions unless necessary. Even when he feels a job is too hard, too promising, he embraces it. Green skin and long bat-wing ears flicker in his peripherals—The Child. He’s awoken. At an unfortunate time, no less. He often did that.

Mando rushes to the Child and swoops him in his arms, ignoring the confused coos muffling into his beskar and returning to the Crest before the incoming fire. It doesn’t come, not even after he peers his helm from the duralloy walls. He inspects the valley formations for a tinge of orange heat, a speck of lens flare, but it’s gone.

It’s a good thing —he has to remind himself — but his suspicions are wedging into the deep crevices of his mind and tingling against his brain, provoking sparks of apprehension. It’s only a matter of time before they inevitably return and who’s to say they won’t return with reinforcements, optimistic of removing him from their lands.

The Child is restless in his arms, whiny piercing noises emitting from his little mouth. “Okay, okay,” Mando grumbles, content of the long-gone presence, and sets the Child down. “Don’t go outside.”

He thumbs his vambrace and the weapons unit doors commence their opening with creaky hinges, yet another thing Mando will have to secure at a later date. The Amban rifle feels comforting in his hand, the shiny barrel glimmering in the Crest’s light. It’s secured to his back and the thick strap fastens across his breastplate vertically, reassuringly.

Leathered digits grab at three canisters of rifle ammunition and situate them in their placements surrounding his boot, refilling the empty’s he’d used prior to the pathetic spacecraft malfunctioning.

Mando gives himself a once-over, guaranteeing he contained all the essentials on his possession if the sharpshooter were to return. When he’s pleased with the maintenance of his blasters and positioning of ammunition canisters, he retreats the Crest and closes the hatch. “I told you not to go outside.”

The Child coos blithely and wanders to his guardian with an extended three-tipped claw.

Mando sighs and picks up the little alien child. The beskar helmet twists towards the mountain-top and his eyes narrow underneath the visor, his lips pressed tightly against his teeth in thought.

“Come on, let’s go see Kuiil. Might even have some pestering frogs you can take off his hands.”

And maybe he can answer some urgent questions, The Mandalorian thinks.

The Ugnaught proves to be useful yet again, going so far as to tend to the Child’s hunger needs—and offering unwanted advice in the meantime. The Mandalorian and Kuiil stand ahead of the Blurrg enclosure, his former mount jeering the beskar-clad bounty hunter. “She’s not fond of you.”

“Feelings mutual.” Mando jabs and sighs, realising his vehemence towards a non-sentient beast. The Child is beside him, shoving a cobalt-blue frog through his tight-lipped mouth. Frantic legs kick at the Child’s chin but it only encourages his appetite, green claws pushing the amphibians limbs into his enclosed mouth. Mando cringes beneath the helmet.

“I recognise you’re not here for tea.” Kuiil draws the Mandalorian’s attention back. “Why are you here?”

“The Crest has taken significant damage. I fear I cannot fix it.”

“Get a new spacecraft, a reliable one.”

Mando sighs, “I don’t need a new one.”

“I have spoken.”

The Ugnaught extends an overflowing hand of mushy grub for the blurrgs, the beasts absorb the entirety of his fist in its mouth but pulls away leaving a wet shine of slobber on Kuiil’s hand. The Mandalorian is grateful for the thin wire restraining them to their confines. Although, they were definitely capable of overpowering the loose cables with their brute strength; he’s pleased he will be needing the reptilian assistance no longer.

It’s easier to depend on mechanics, they’re manipulatable and live beasts were not.

“There’s a marksman in those valleys,” Mando explains.

“I am aware.”

So he did know—and didn’t warn him. “Do you know them?”

“They are one of your kind.”

This piques his interest, curiosity apparent in his fixed posture; head tilted and shoulders stiffly raised. “Mandalorian?”

“No. Independent, private.”

Mando sighs and turns away from the Ugnaught, a pair of hands landing on his hips in frustration. Helmet adjusts upwards, reaching high in the night sky, where he browses the vastness of black and speckled white. Space seems so far away without his Crest, so unreachable. Underneath the visor, his eyes collect the clusters of stars. The Mandalorian is a man of many skill sets and abilities; constellation knowledge was not one of them, yet he couldn’t tear his gaze away. He resolves to count the particles, managing to reach sixty-eight before the Child’s coos distract him.

He's resilient, persistent. Optimistic to obtain an answer to the number of stars soaring above him. Eighty-three, eighty-four— The sharpshooter crosses his mind and he scowls. There’s that sensation again, that uneasiness. Intuition, suspicion. Eighty…. Eighty-six?

The thoughts are evaded, not wanting to think about the potential danger he’s putting himself, the Child, and even Kuiil in by remaining on the desert planet—not that he had anywhere to go, but he feels as though the sharpshooter doesn’t care. They just want him gone, and it only makes the Mandalorian that much inquisitive.

Tan lower eyelids drag downwards as though they were crafted with gravity itself. He’s tired, exhausted, but he doesn’t succumb to his body’s pleads of leisure. It can wait until the Crest is soaring through space; then, and only then, with the Child dozing in his hammock he can relax, allow his muscles to recuperate, allow himself a moment's weakness.

Mando sucks in a breath through his helmet’s filter. Dry, warm, and grainy like the desert, but a refreshing change from the recycled oxygen inside the Razor Crest’s vessel.

Arvala-7’s moon is nowhere to be seen, the sky illuminated only by the dotted whites flaked through the sheet of black. It gives the sky an ominous appearance, threatening almost. Mando finds himself disorientated among the stars, a thick lump in his throat. It looked so…

Lifeless.

The Mandalorian forcibly retracts his attention from the sky, but his premonition remains intact and he dabbles with it. Fiddling the edges of a conscious thought and visualising it as a bounty puck, he pictures a bright hologram emerging from it’s centre, displaying a circulating outline of orange waves. It’s a bad idea, a stupid idea, but one he can’t reject, “Their camp. Where is their camp located?”

Kuiil shakes his head, “They’re not hostile, no need to provoke them.”

“I won’t shoot first.”

[crystalstar8]

Knights of the Night (ch 20)

Chapter 20

Ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7, ch 8, ch 9, ch 10, ch 11, ch 12, ch 13, ch 14, ch 15, ch 16, ch 17, ch 18, ch 19, ch 20

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139240/chapters/71536491

pairing: Jungkook x oc

genre: vampire au, college au, twilight, romance

word count: 1,193

warnings: blood (obviously), kidnapping, child kidnapping, needles, France, human trafficking

notes: vampires, vampire au, college, college au, so many twilight references, blood, needles, kidnapping, children, homelessness, dance, ballet, flashbacks, romance, slow burn, probably no smut, idk yet tho, France, French things, attempted genocide, inaccurate French history, bisexual main character, @strawberriewithchocolate-blog @mozy-j  @daechwitad-2​ @zobadak​ @fallenstar-7​​​

summary: Catalina starts college in a small town all the way across the country. She doesn’t know anyone and isn’t exactly looking for friends. She just wants to focus on dance. But when she meets fellow dance major, Jimin, and adventurous, fellow freshman, Jungkook, Catalina ends up discovering a whole new side to the small college town; one that is dangerous but oh so enticing...

              “Whoa! Is this your house?!” Caleb screeched as they got out of the car.

               “No, I wish,” said Jimin. He pointed to Yoongi and said, “It’s his house.”

               “Wow! You must be super rich or something!” Caleb said to Yoongi. Jimin took his hand as they walked up to the front door. “You paid that guy fifty thousand dollars, and you live in this big house!”

               “Yeah, and apparently you’re more valuable than I am,” Jimin said, swatting Yoongi across the shoulder.

               Yoongi didn’t respond to any of this as he unlocked the front door and stepped inside. Footsteps pounded through the house towards the foyer, revealing a frazzled Taehyung. He took one look at the group before pushing his way through to wrap Jimin up in a tight hug. Taehyung pulled away with damp eyes.

               “Oh! You brought someone with you,” Taehyung said between sniffles, reaching out to shake Caleb’s hand and wiping his eyes with the other hand. “Hello little one. Forgive me for not greeting you before. If you like, we have some cold soda pop or I can get you a wine-“

               “He’s eight,” said Jimin.

               “Oh…um,” sniffle, “Can you not have caffeine?”

               “I’ll have wine please!” Caleb said with a giggle. Jimin shushed him.

               “He’s fine,” he said.

               Just then, Namjoon and Hoseok came around the corner, their eyes widening when they saw the child.

               “Yoongi…” Namjoon said.

               “I know! They were in the same cell, what was I supposed to do?” Yoongi snapped.

               “I’m not…I’m not opposed,” said Namjoon. “Here, let’s move to the lounge. We can look at the recording there as well.”

               “And we’ll find your parents,” Jimin said to Caleb.

               Everyone piled into the lounge to watch the recording. Jungkook connected to the TV and played it. Namjoon took notes and sketched a rough map. Since Jimin no longer had a phone, he took Hoseok’s phone and stepped out with Caleb to call his parents. Catalina stepped out with them. She wasn’t keen on watching their journey again.

               Jimin was opening Hoseok’s phone while Caleb examined the ceramic vase on display in the hallway.

               “Do you know their phone numbers?” Jimin asked. Caleb nodded and took the phone. He typed in a phone number and held it up to his ear. It sounded like whoever it was picked up immediately.

               “Hi mom!” Caleb greeted. He held the phone away from his ear as a cacophony of voices shouted and cried on the other end. Jimin kneeled beside Caleb and took his hand as tears gathered in his eyes. “I’m okay mom…I’m with Jimin right now…no he’s my friend, we were roommates at the bad guy’s place. His friends saved us…we’re at his friend’s house…um…”

               Caleb turned to Jimin and asked, “Where is this place? My mom says they’re gonna pick me up.”

               “Tell her we can text her our location from this phone,” said Jimin. “I don’t know the address.”

               “Jimin says that we’re gonna text you the location,” said Caleb. “He says he doesn’t know the address…okay I won’t…yeah, they’re all in the room, they’re making a plan to kill the bad guys…”

               “Caleb!” Catalina whispered. She shook her head.

               “Oh right,” Caleb said. “Never mind, it’s top secret…no, they’re not killing anyone, they’re not doing anything, it’s top secret…okay…”

               “Jimin, you should call your mom as well,” Catalina said, handing her phone over.

               As Jimin called his mother and had a very similar conversation with her as Caleb, Jungkook came out of the room and joined Catalina. His face was pale.

               “You okay?” she asked. He nodded.

               “I hate seeing it again,” said Jungkook. “I can’t wait to get those people out.”

               “Yeah, me too,” said Catalina. They both spoke quietly, as to not disturb the two phone calls happening next to them.

               “But I learned something interesting in there,” said Jungkook. “Apparently Yoongi used to go around finding organizations like this and he would buy all the kids from them.”

               “Like, he’d just go around rescuing kids?” Catalina asked. Jungkook nodded. “Yoongi? I can’t picture that.”

               “I know right?” said Jungkook.

               An hour later, there was a knock at the door. Jimin went with Caleb to greet his parents. After their tearful reunion, Caleb said, “Am I gonna see Jimin again?”

               His parents agreed to keep in contact with Jimin before going on their way. Jimin’s mom showed up shortly after with another tearful reunion.

               “I should probably go home,” Jimin said to Catalina and Jungkook.

               “Yeah, ya think?” Catalina said. Jimin rolled his eyes.

               “Anyway, make sure you guys kill all those sons of bitches,” he said.

               “You know we will,” said Jungkook. Jimin hugged them both before leaving with his mom. Once they were out of sight, Catalina and Jungkook went back inside.

               The vampires were still sitting around the coffee table in the lounge, planning for their next step when Jungkook and Catalina arrived and sat down.

               “Jimmy K and Jin should be here any minute to help us plan this out,” said Namjoon.

               “Is Jin fighting with us?” asked Jungkook. “Can he handle that?”

               “Come on, he’s not even here to defend himself,” said Catalina. Jungkook snickered.

               “You’ll have to ask him yourself when he gets here. I’m not sure,” said Namjoon.

               “Well, in the meantime, would anyone like some tea to calm our nerves?” Taehyung asked, standing up. “Ever since Jimin came back safely, I’ve just been feeling a bit murderous.”

               “That’s the spirit!” said Jungkook.

               “I’ll just make some for everyone,” Taehyung said, leaving the room.

               He came back several minutes later carrying a large tray filled with teacups and a fancy teapot. He served everyone, then sat back down, sighing and sinking into the couch with his first sip.

               Jimmy K and Jin arrived after that, taking seats in the lounge.

               “Alright, down to business,” Jimmy K said, rubbing his hands together.

               “My ears were ringing on the way here,” said Jin. “Who was talking shit about me?”

               He eyed the group, his narrowed gaze finally landing on a giggling Jungkook. Jin pointed a finger at him and whispered, “You’re dead meat,” which only served to make Jungkook laugh harder.

               “So, what’s the plan so far?” asked Jimmy K.

               “We’re thinking about splitting up into two groups: one to fight off the vampires, the other to evacuate the hostages,” said Namjoon. “I hate working with police, but we’ll have emergency services waiting above ground.”

               “It’s unavoidable,” said Jimmy K. “Those people will need medical attention when we get them out. Have we considered backup? By that, I mean other vampires.”

               “Yes,” said Namjoon. “I called a few friends from up north. They should be flying in by tomorrow at the latest.”

               “Good,” said Jimmy K. “We’ll need all the help we can get. As for the police, I’m sort of buddies with the Sheriff in this town. I’ll talk to him and explain what’s going on so that they don’t mess up our plan. In the meantime, how about some more training, guys?”

               Catalina and Jungkook stood up.

               “Is it flamethrower day?” Jungkook shouted.

               Jimmy K laughed and said, “Sure, why not?”

[neversidekick-blog]

Flamethrower’s Alleged Harassment

What’s going on?

deadcatwithaflamethrower has suggested she is the victim of a targeted campaign of harassment, and along the way she’s used some antisemitic dogwhistles, which would be problematic on its own, but is especially insidious IMO given the topic of the alleged harassment.

I am positive that I am one of the people she says harassed her, though I maintain I did no such thing. 

I’m going to attempt to provide the fullest accounting of these events possible, with the caveat that I simply don’t have copies of a few key pieces of evidence.

If you’re going to follow along, I ask you read all the screenshots and quotations carefully, because the details do matter if you want a complete picture.

The first two sections are background info for those unaware of a few relevant facts. The issue of alleged harassment follows.

Jewish Snape

Flamethrower has written a long, serial HP fic called Of a Linear Circle. In it, Severus Snape is portrayed as Jewish. While his Jewishness is touched upon in multiple chapters across multiple parts of the series, this is how it is introduced:

“I didn’t know you were Jewish.”

Severus rolls his eyes and taps the bridge of his nose. “It isn’t obvious?”

Nizar gives him a baffled look. “What does your nose have to do with it?”

“It’s a…stereotype.” Severus grimaces at Nizar’s continued look of confusion, but he still meets older adults who’ve never heard the word used that way. “Racism.”

“Oh. Idiots,” Nizar mutters. “Besides, if you wanted to see some truly horrific examples of nasal protuberances, you’d find yourself a Viking who’d had their nose broken four or five times.”

I applaud including Jewish characters in fic, even in the case where they are not Jewish in canon. Positive portrayals of Jewish characters should be encouraged throughout fandom.

Picking Snape to be the character from Harry Potter to reframe as Jewish is a complicated choice, because of the vile and enduring antisemitic stereotype relating to Jewish people having large, ugly noses. 

Consider the following quote spoken by the Marauder’s Map in POA:

Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business.

Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Moony, and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git.

Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor.

Mr. Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball.

Leaning into a stereotype is a difficult choice. It’s not bad, but it should be handled with some thought. IMO you either need to ignore the canon association with Snape’s nose, or you need to deliberately deconstruct it.

Flamethrower did neither. This by itself I would not say is antisemitic, merely clumsy. She went to great efforts to portray Snape’s Jewishness positively, and I honestly applaud that.  

But I know I’m not the only person who encountered it and was uncomfortable with the antisemitic stereotype being on display so clumsily. Not that I thought it meant flamethrower or her fic were antisemitic, just that this particular use of a stereotype was uncomfortable. 

A Thread about Hebrew

Of a Linear Circle is heavily concerned with linguistics. It features discussions of many languages, including Hebrew. One of those discussions contains an error, a faulty transliteration. This is a minor mistake, and in a fic with so many linguistic discussions, some mistakes would happen for even a true polyglot.

The problem is that when a Jewish fan commented with a polite suggestion of a fix to the error, flamethrower proceeded to Goysplain both Hebrew and the Shoah to her.

It’s not a good look. It’s arrogant and condescending. By itself, though, it’s not antisemitic, just an author being a little too defensive and overbearing. But it’s there, and more than a few Jewish fans noticed it because flamethrower has promoted the fact that Snape is Jewish in this fic.

Where the Harassment Supposedly Begins

At some point, a Jewish fan (who implicitly identifies herself as such later), leaves a comment on the chapter of flamethrower’s fic with the potentially upsetting antisemitic nose stereotype.

The request is for a tag or warning of some kind for the comment, just so it doesn’t take readers by surprise. Perhaps requesting the fic as a whole be tagged with “antisemitism” is a step too far and would seem bizarre, but the gist of the comment is a request for a content warning. Flamethrower could have sorted out a note or a less inflammatory tag if she cared to do so, but she never replied to this comment.

The fact that she didn’t reply to this comment doesn’t matter really. She gets a lot of fic comments, so the idea she missed one or didn’t feel like replying isn’t the issue. 

But this comment was left on August 10, and when it received no response for a week, I believe the same fan sent flamethrower an ask on the same topic, which is where the saga of supposed harassment begins.

The Ask

The text of the ask was as follows:

HI! I LEFT YOU A COMMENT RECENTLY ON YOUR FIC OF A LINEAR CIRCLE, BUT I CAN SEE YOU WERE VERY BUSY AND PROBABLY DIDN'T SEE IT. I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND ME ASKING, BUT WOULD YOU MIND TAGGING IT FOR THE ANTISEMITIC HUMOR IN IT? I KNOW IT WAS MEANT IN GOOD FAITH AND YOU HAD A JEWISH FRIEND CONSULT, BUT NOT ALL JEWS ARE COMFORTABLE WITH JOKING ABOUT STEROTYPES, AND FOR THOSE OF US THAT AREN'T, A LITTLE WARNING WOULD BE VERY KIND. THANK YOU!— queried by heatherly84

I consider this fairly innocuous and polite. As I said above, perhaps the reasonable outcome wasn’t the exact tag suggested, or even a tag at all--maybe a note in the intro notes of the chapter warning for it would have sufficed.

But this is how flamethrower responded:

So, because you had a single moment of twinge due to a child character’s self-consciousness regarding their appearance and their religion as they struggle to come to terms with stereotypes they face every day…you want me to add a tag to my fic that will see it immediately black-listed as anti-semitic even though it’s absolutely nothing of the sort.

No. No, I will not.

I am not here to gatekeep your internet experience. If that moment made you uncomfortable, you should a) think about what the character was going through instead of expecting it to be the author being a dick, and b) click your back button.

EDIT: No, wait. I’m not done.

What really gets me here is that you are asking me to tag a scene as anti-Semitic when this underconfident Jewish-born child, already dealing with horrible stereotyping, is promptly reassured by an Adult that there is nothing wrong with his faith or his appearance, and said child shouldn’t put stock into the people doing the stereotyping.

You want me to tag something as Bad that is meant to be enouragement for anyone in that position, a common theme in YA lit.

Are you sure it’s the perceived anti-Semitism that’s the problem, or is it something else entirely?

I saw the ask and flamethrower’s response shortly after it was posted on her tumblr. To say I found the response troubling is an understatement.

Flamethrower condescends to a fan asking, not for any substantive change or edit to the fic, but to a mere content warning.

Flamethrower presumes to tell someone how they must feel about the handling of antisemitic stereotypes in a fic, which would be bullshit even if she didn’t handle this particular antisemitic stereotype so clumsily.

Flamethrower accuses the fan of some secret and malicious motive because she, the author, is overly defensive.

Particularly considering the topic of antisemitism, I found the response wanting, so I decided I should say something.

The Submission

In an attempt to convey to Flamethrower that the concerns about the antisemitic stereotyping of Snape’s nose wasn’t the concern of a single fan, and to try to open a dialogue and point out some other missteps I felt she had made in the general region of Jewish representation in fandom and antisemitism, I decided to send her a submission.

I am an ancient member of fandom from the days of usenet and livejournal, and to be honest I just never got tumblr, so I had to create an account solely for this purpose. I’m sure that makes me sound like a bizarre dinosaur, but it’s the truth. And I created this account and wrote up a submission to flamethrower and sent it in.

Admittedly, my tone was a little sharp in a few places due to very genuine frustration, but as I tried to make clear, I was trying to appeal to her to do better, not simply condemn, and definitely not harass.

The following is the full and exact text of my submission to flamethrower: 

I feel that you're being deeply disingenuous. You introduced Snape being a Jew in your fic with the following lines:

“I didn’t know you were Jewish.”

Severus rolls his eyes and taps the bridge of his nose. “It isn’t obvious?”

And a Jewish person rather politely asked you to mark it as referencing antisemitic stereotypes, because holy fuck you made a character whose nose is remarkably large in canon Jewish and leaned into that in. Sure, you followed it with a joke about Viking noses, but that's not the deconstruction you seem to think it is. It's just a handwave that accomplishes nothing.

That, by itself, I could maybe give a pass, but then there's this comment thread: https://archiveofourown.org/comments/113294382 Someone tells you they're Jewish and gives you a bit of helpful advice about a bit of Hebrew linguistics that you have absolutely and totally wrong; it's not something, as you suggest in your replies, that varies with regions. It's universally understood, but you talk over the person whose cultural language you're using as if you know better.

But the part that really crosses the line is that you say the following in your scramble to throw shit against the wall to insist you could be right:

Then there are the parlances common to specific groups that are just fucking GONE because of the Holocaust, and we don't have any way now to know how they might have said certain words.

You Goysplain the Shoah to a Jew.

If you actually care as deeply about positive representations of Jewish characters in fandom as you say you do, maybe listening to actual critiques from actual Jews should be a thing you do, instead of reacting defensively and shutting them down.

Also, please never refer to a person as "Jewish sidekick" again, as you did in that thread. Unpacking the baggage there would take a separate submission. I'm taking the time to write this out, perhaps foolishly, because I hope you're sincere about caring and will actually listen. Shutting down the voices of Jewish people is not a part of portraying Jewishness positively in fandom. I hope you can see that and will listen and do better.

She posted and responded to this. I don’t have a screenshot of her response, nor do I have the full text because of how quickly she deleted it, but I do have a partial quote of her response:

However, you did accuse a Jewish woman by proxy of Goysplaining, which I find incredibly insulting on my best friend’s behalf. (She wants her name left out of it for anxiety reasons, and given how this is probably going to turn into a huffing and puffing Drag Down The Evil Witch Goyim thing, I don’t blame her.)

This bit of rhetorical gymnastics on her part served an interesting and infuriating purpose. I objected to her refusing to listen to actual Jewish fans trying to tell her things on multiple occasions, and I also criticized her use of the “I can’t have done anything wrong, my best friend is Jewish,” defense. Here she doubled down on that defense, essentially saying the person she has referred to on multiple occasions as her “Jewish Sidekick” insulates her from all possible problematic statements re: Jewishness.

The rest of her response was equally inane, but as I can’t quote it directly in her own words, I can’t justify saying more about it.

A Second, Unpublished Ask

As I mentioned above, I’ve never really used Tumblr. The difference between submitting posts and submitting asks confused me. I knew the original request for a content warning tag was an ask and that I’d done a post. I was afraid I should have sent an ask instead.

I was also rereading her response to heatherly84, and I was annoyed that she didn’t get why the joke about Snape’s nose wasn’t okay.

So I sent in an ask before my submission was posted and responded to.

I don’t have the text of my ask, but I give flamethrower permission to post it in full if she chooses. I recall saying two things:

1) In the form of a question, I tried to walk her through understanding why the joke about Snape’s nose could still read as antisemitic.

2) I acknowledged I’d sent the submission, and said I would prefer she respond to it, since it was more detailed.

Perhaps I committed some terrible tumblr faux pas in submitting a post and an ask on the same topic closely together and that constitutes harassment.

I suspect the former is true but the latter is not.

Flamethrower Deletes Posts and Claims Harassment

In a matter of minutes after flamethrower posts my submission and her response, she deletes it. A new post goes up.

I have to assume the combination of two asks and a submission is what she is saying is harassment. You’ve seen the text of one ask and one post, so hopefully you’ll agree one ask was very polite and the post was slightly terse but A) not harassment, B) not an ad hominem attack, C) and a list of reasons why she was wrong to do certain things, not a list of reasons why she as a person was awful. I maintain the unpublished ask is in the same vein, and she is free to publish it in full if she chooses.

Then she begins posting more, and her claims about what she was sent escalate.

Here we have what is called a dogwhistle: she’s not saying evil Jews are conspiring against her to make her look bad. However, in response to criticisms of potentially antisemitic behavior, she falls back on the trope of “devious” Jews in a malicious conspiracy. This is problematic, and I will say flat out it is antisemitic.

She also misrepresents what was going on: Jewish fans asking her to listen to them without being condescending. Jewish fans asking for a single content warning.

I believe at this point I sent either another ask or submission, with the gist being, “If you’re going to post about things I submitted to your tumblr and characterize them a certain way, I would appreciate it if you reposted them so viewers could judge for themselves whether what you’re saying is accurate.”

Continuing to engage was a mistake, clearly. 

Her vague posting with the context hidden continued.

And she ends by going full non-sequitur. 

She never raised not wanting to attract white supremacists and Nazis as a reason to avoid a warning tag. 

She condescended and attacked and told a Jewish fan her reactions were invalid.

If flamethrower cared about Jewish representation in fandom, opposing antisemitism, and Jewish fans, she could have compromised with some sort of warning in some fashion.

Even if she were absolutely opposed to a warning of any kind, she could have not condescended and invalidated the experiences of Jewish fans trying to speak with her.

Even if she couldn’t do that, she could have avoided deleting all context and then going on a posting spree that suggests an evil Jewish conspiracy is harassing her.

The only conclusions I can draw from all of this are as follows:

1) Engaging with flamethrower as a person who cares about Jewish fans is a mistake, because she cares more about presenting herself as an authority on Jewish experiences to non-Jewish fans than she does to listening to any critique, no matter how minor or polite, from a Jewish fan.

2) Flamethrower is happy to oppose antisemitism in the shallowest possible way to pat herself on the back and seek congratulations from others, but the second she’s in conflict with actual Jewish people, she resorts to vague and just barely deniable antisemitism herself.

3) Flamethrower is unable to accept anything she perceives as criticism, no matter how kindly it’s presented, because she’s too invested in presenting herself as the absolute expert on every topic she has passingly researched for a fic. Her defensiveness over a trivial topic is merely odd, but on more serious topics, it becomes problematic.

4) No one has harassed flamethrower, and nothing she is construing as harassment is part of a “setup” or conspiracy.

5) I probably don’t know how to use Tumblr properly.

Edited to Add: What I Think Is a Lie

I have been refreshing flamethrower’s tumblr nearly non-stop since this began, as have several people I know. Unless the offer of a different tag occurred in a private message, I am confident in saying it is a lie, particularly given her instant negative reaction to the very idea as shown above. If screencaps are provided, I will of course retract this and apologize.

[nahra-is-healing]

There’s a rocket in my pocket

I’ve been working on my video for my friend. I’m trying to learn Adobe After Effects. It’s looking alright. Nothing special. I hope to get it done soon!

*There will be spoilers*

Saff and I continued Resident Evil 2 Remaster. We cautiously went through the greenhouse and were greeted with some horrific plant zombies that can only be killed with fire or they keep coming back stronger. Saff devised his strategy of doing a blast of fire with the flamethrower until the plant zombies had died to save on fuel. It worked well!

We discover from watching a videotape that a man called Dr Birkin was murdered by mistake by a member of special forces for the G-Virus.

We steal the virus which triggers the bases’ lockdown and self destruct sequence. Not good! We attempt to make our way out of the base when we are greeted by our friend zombie scientist man. Annette comes to our rescue with some kind of gun with acid? ice? I’m not sure. She calls zombie scientist “William”. It is then we discover that just before his death, Dr Birkin injected himself with the G-Virus. Oof. Zombie William grabs Annette and slams her against a wall. Ouch!

Thus began the final battle with Zombie William. To avoid getting hit right off the bat, Saff used a flash grenade to stun him, ran around him and shot him with the mag gun. It seemed to work well until he threw massive canister things at us. We got William on the second try though.

Poor Saff had too many things in his inventory. He must have had over 120 handgun bullets in his inventory and didn’t use a single one of them. He got rid of his combat knife and a flash grenade to make room for all the goodies around the boss arena.

We met back up with a dying Annette, where she informs us that Ada is not FBI, but a mercenary! We trusted her!! We made our way back to Ada where Leon confronted her about her intentions. Ada, no! How could you?!

Annette shoots Ada in a dying attempt to stop the G-Virus from escaping the base. The base begins to crumble, Ada falls from the balcony, but Leon catches her. Unable to keep her from falling, Ada asks Leon to take care of himself before she slips from his fingers. Ada...No...

We had 10 minutes to make our way out of the base when we see Claire over a video monitor. Haven’t seen her in a long time! Unfortunately, communication was too poor for us to hear each other.

As we were escaping, Mr X decides he just needs to have one more pop at us. For goodness sake, leave us alone! We’re trying to escape here!

We made it to the elevator shaft, where we begin the final confrontation with Mr X. Saff decided this was the perfect time to use all 7000 handgun bullets he’d picked up along the way. Leon, unfortunately, got skewered the first try. We tried again and along with my annoying “MOVE NOW!” commentary, we did well. Fortunately for us, a blessing from the heavens occurred. Ada, who is still alive through sassy magic, threw us a case with a rocket launcher in. We blow right through Mr X’s annoying face and finish him. AMAZING! Take that!

We make it to the train station and jumped on a moving train, where we meet up with Claire and.... a child? O.K.

Finished!

I really enjoyed watching Saff play. I think I will play as Claire in a lower difficulty though. It’s not that I don’t think I can handle the harder difficulty, it’s just maybe if it’s a bit easier I can feel less stressed. We’ll see!

[nelvana]

In which curses are spoken of

First [ARC 1]: In which the human is transformed First [ARC 2]: In which a present is prepared Next: In which the journey continues Previous: In which the forest of ice is explored

    There was silence that followed Gengar’s yells; and for a moment there was doubt that anyone would respond to the calling at all.

    Before he could consider trying again though, the soft sound of slow paw steps could be heard making their way over to the pair. Out from the shadows deeper in the caverns, Ninetales padded towards them, a scowl already growing on her greying muzzle.

    “Well, I didn’t expect I would hear from you anytime soon, Sh-“ she began, stopping her own sentence midway as her gaze turned from Gengar and over to Nelvana. “Dear Arceus, what happened here?” she gasped, carefully approaching the weakened cubone. “What have you done?” Spinning around to look at Gengar again, her voice suddenly turned accusatory.

    Gengar stiffened, shrinking back at Ninetales’ glare, “I… We… W-We just…”

    Ninetales shook her head, “if you will not explain, Shinobi, then I will have to ask Nelvana when she is doing better,” she huffed, “coming here without Blaziken’s child and with that heat sink of a pokemon instead…” she then muttered under her breath, shaking her head again.

    Once she had arrived close enough to the cubone, Gengar shuffling away from Ninetales as she approached, the fox pokemon laid down and gently wrapped eight of her nine tails around Nelvana, leaving the last tail idle on the ground. Gengar flinched up at this action, and even Nelvana had a moment of hesitance, trying to step back for a moment before letting herself sink into the warm fur.

    “H-Hey wait! Your… Your tails-“ Gengar blurted out in alarm.

    “Do you not think I have full control over my actions and powers?” Ninetales scoffed, looking sharply over at Gengar again. “Only foes who touch my tails get cursed; Gardevoir’s chosen will be alright,” she continued.

    With that explanation provided, though ignoring that odd nickname for now, Nelvana let herself relax more. The tails weren’t as warm as she had expected, in fact it seemed likely that Ninetales had purposely sucked all the heat out of them so that she wouldn’t warm up Nelvana too fast, but they were still much warmer than anything she had felt for awhile.

    Distantly, she tried to think of first aid for hypothermia so that she would be sure to be treated properly. Should she not be wearing these wet clothes? Should she eat something warm? In the end, Nelvana was too tired to collect this information from her mind for now, the thoughts blipping in and out of her head again like trying to count raindrops as they fell from the sky. She would have to trust that Ninetales knew what she was doing on her own.

    Gengar carefully watched the pair, trying to let himself relax after that confrontation. He could only find himself fortunate that Ninetales hadn’t just decided to flamethrower his face the moment she had seen him. It was obvious that even after hundreds of years, many of those years he wasn’t even present in, Ninetales still hated him.

    As he took another step back though, Gengar’s foot bumped against something on the ground, causing him to reflexively jump at the touch. After calming himself down again, he looked down at what it actually was; and found Nelvana’s bone club.

    He picked up the club and held it close to himself.

    This warming up process was slow, and silent. Ninetales would glare at Gengar every once and awhile, sending him shrinking back again, but she did not speak to him. Gengar only made an attempt to speak when Nelvana winced from the heat returning to her limbs, but he ended up being intimidated to silence again. Nelvana didn’t make of an effort to talk; though a few times she was tempted too.

    But finally, she felt awake and warm enough to stand up on her own again and move away from Ninetales. The fox pokemon blinked at this movement, but then smiled softly at the cubone.

    “How are you feeling?” Ninetales asked, slowly rising to her feet as well and shaking the pebbles out of her fur that had been picked up while laying down.

    “Still tired… but definitely more awake, if that makes sense. And warmer,” Nelvana answered, adjusting her scarf. “Thank you, Ninetales.”

    “Do not worry about it; this isn’t the first time I’ve had to warm someone up from hypothermia… Though, you were a bit of a surprise, Gardevoir’s chosen. The last time you were here you had a larger and more… proper group, and yet this time you just bring him. Why was that?” Ninetales responded.

    Taking a step in Gengar’s direction, she glanced at him and then back at Ninetales, “we’re here to ask more about Gardevoir’s curse, and more specifically on how to break it,” she told her, “and the others aren’t here because… uh…”

    Nelvana trailed off, unable to come up with a reasonable excuse. Her hesitance had already made it too late to believably lie, and the truth just dug Gengar deeper in his hole. Ninetales already hated him, and this would add more fuel to the fire, despite it being the honest answer that it was his fault that she had come with him alone. All she had done was agree to the terms, which was something that Ninetales would surely overlook.

    Despite this, Ninetales seemed to put the pieces together for the correct answer on her own. Gengar’s guilty expression at the question and Nelvana’s hesitance to answer had only just confirmed her suspicions.

    “I see,” Ninetales muttered, sitting down and curling eight tails around herself. “I suppose it should be no surprise that Shinobi was the one with the idea to come here as just a pair, and that you would agree just for a chance to help Gardevoir,” she continued, narrowing her eyes.

    “Quit calling me that!” Gengar suddenly yelled, seeming to gain a burst of courage enough to defend himself.

    Ninetales’ growing scowl shifted to a grin, “calling you what? Shinobi? You mean your name?” she laughed, “look, Shinobi, you might think you can just shove that past under the rug and do whatever you want without your human sins, but it doesn’t work that way.”

    Gengar shrank back once more, his previous courage instantly being drained from him. Nelvana stiffened, glancing at him to Ninetales again while pulling at the strings of her sweater; suddenly noticing the lack of her bone in her hands.

    “I don’t think wanting a different name means shoving your past under the rug,” Nelvana spoke up, “he’s acknowledging that past right now by coming here; can we just respect his name choices?”

    “Ah, you miss the point here,” Ninetales sighed, shaking her head. “But let us get to the point of your arrival, yes? You wish to save Gardevoir… I’m afraid that you are unable to; it would be best to return back home now instead.”

    “Wait, you’re saying we can all this way and the curse can’t even be broken?” Gengar exclaimed, narrowing his eyes at Ninetales, though still keeping his distance.

    Ninetales shook her head, “I never said that it can’t be broken, I just said that you are unable to,” she clarified, “you see, Shinobi, you lack what is needed to break the curse, and unfortunately, it can’t be broken without you... So, without you having what is needed…”

    “What is needed, then?” Nelvana asked.

    “Actually,” Ninetales began with a sigh, “the requirements on breaking this curse are actually a bit similar to returning you and your time travelling friends back here,” she murmured, “Keahi has what Shinobi lacks. So, she was able to rescue you, but he will not be able to rescue Gardevoir.”

    “And… what is that exactly?” Gengar asked, “did Keahi ever tell you what sh- he needed? To bring back you guys…?” he continued, looking hopefully at Nelvana, but only earning a defeated head shake in return.

    “It is nothing you will have, Shinobi. I know you well enough to say that,” Ninetales spat, “this has to do with who you are as a person; nothing you can ask, borrow, or… steal from others.”

    “W-Well! Why can’t you just break your own curse? Why can’t you do it?” Gengar sputtered desperately, “what’s the point of being able to create curses if you can’t break them?”

    “It doesn’t work that way!” Ninetales snapped hoarsely, “and even if it was… I have used up all the power in these tails. I have already done everything I can for Gardevoir.”

    “How does the power in your tails work?” Nelvana asked, “I wasn’t aware that they could even run out.”

    Ninetales sighed again, letting some of the tension out of her body, “when a vulpix evolves into a ninetales, each of their tails become fueled with a mystic power. Left idle, this power makes a ninetales stronger, and provides us with our thousand-year lifespan. However, when needed, power can be taken from a tail, usually in the form of a curse. It is rarely anything else. We are very skilled in curses. We cannot preform miracles; we only do curses. However, this power will never come back to us, so a ninetales can only ever preform a maximum of nine curses in their life time,” she explained, “in the case of the curse from touching one of our tails, it is a defense mechanism; though it does use up the power in that tail. For Gardevoir, I tried revoking as much of the curse as I could in that moment, but once one is cursed…”

    “That’s why you called for Gengar,” Nelvana realized, “you wanted him to break the curse from the start.”

    “Indeed,” Ninetales replied, nodding. “But he fled instead, and now I know he doesn’t have what’s needed to break the curse. At the very least, I was able to revoke enough of the curse on my own that Gardevoir wasn’t sentenced to a thousand years of pain, and just became a spirit guide.”

    “Then what about the power you granted Gardevoir? She told me that you gave her the ability to turn me into a pokemon,” Nelvana continued, “how did that work?”

    Out of the corner of her eye, Nelvana spotted Gengar stiffen at this new information, but she kept her gaze trained on Ninetales, who smiled again.

    “Ah, yes. It doesn’t surprise me that you would want to know about that eventually,” Ninetales hummed, “that was still a curse, just executed a bit differently than the average curse. I had never given someone else the power to pass along a curse before, but I knew it could be done.

    When Gardevoir came to me that day, desperately asking for the ability to bring a human here as a pokemon, I was surprised, but knew that she was right. The absol had told me that there was a disaster that could change everything coming soon, and I realized that only the power of the soul of a human would be able to truly fix things; especially if all the gods had decided not to bother helping. However, I only had the power of one tail left. I could either give Gardevoir the curse of bringing a human to this world, or turning a human into a pokemon. I chose the latter, hoping there would be some other way a human would arrive here. It was such a pleasure to learn that I had made the right choice in the end, and that you were Gardevoir’s chosen,” she explained.

    “So, the amnesia then. Was that… intentional?” Nelvana hesitantly asked.

    “Of course! Everything I do is intentional, after all,” Ninetales answered softly, “though, the amnesia was supposed to be complete. It seemed that Gardevoir managed to hold back enough for you to remember your name and being human,” she added.

    “But why?” Nelvana questioned, feeling an ache in her heart at her confirmed suspicions; she had been meant to forget everything.

    “Because most humans are untrustworthy pieces of garbage,” Ninetales growled, her tails lashing behind her. “I knew that because I had chosen the latter option, Gardevoir might not get much of a choice on what human to transform; just whoever showed up first. I couldn’t risk that whoever being someone like Shinobi! The amnesia was an added failsafe. Whoever the human was would accept their identity as just an amnesiac pokemon, and then would end up wanting to help save the world out of self-preservation, at the very least.”

    Nelvana’s ears rang at this news, her mind whirling as she watched and listened to the way Ninetales described her reasoning with no guilt at all at having almost intentionally taken away someone’s identity. Her arms and legs shook, trying to fix the former by wrapping her arms around herself and digging her claws into herself through the sweater.

    All she could think about was what would have happened if it had worked, if she had forgotten everything and just become Cubone. Would Alex have even- no, he would have found her, and that somehow made it worse. What is she didn’t recognize him at all? Would he be forced to leave, despite knowing his partner was just in reach? Then Ceebee; Ceebee would have been so heartbroken. And they wouldn’t have even met Tsuki, Nelvana realized, since they had gone to Ninetales because Nelvana was human.

    How much could they all have lost just because of this one “failsafe”?

    Seeing this reaction, especially as Nelvana began stumbling away from the fox pokemon, Ninetales seemed to realize an error in her explanation. She heaved herself back to her paws, carefully approaching Nelvana again with an attempt at a soft smile and comforting gaze.

    “No, but you see, you aren’t like most humans! You had stepped up to help right away, and- and I’m glad that Gardevoir let you remember that! Look at how well everything worked out because it was you who came here,” Ninetales insisted, continuing her approach despite Nelvana standing beside Gengar now. “You’re better than other humans; you really are Gardevoir’s chos-”

    “Stop,” Gengar growled, coming off more forcefully than anything else he had said to Ninetales yet. “Can…” His eyes darted around for a moment before focusing on the older ‘mon again. “Can the amnesia be taken away then?” he asked.

    “No, it cannot. If you wanted to cure that then you would have to break the entire curse and turn her back into a human too. You can’t just pick and choose,” Ninetales huffed, “only the gods could pull off something like that.”

    “…fine,” Gengar muttered, “l-look, I don’t care if you don’t think… think that I can do it, but we’re going to still try to go rescue Gardevoir, so at least you could help the odds by giving us some instructions or something useful,” he continued, steering the conversation back to their initial mission.

    “We’ve already come this far,” Nelvana added quietly.

    Ninetales looked over the duo for a few moments, before exhaling and seeming to relent to their wishes, “very well. To rescue Gardevoir, you will need to speak with the ‘judge’. They will be the one to pull Gardevoir from the spirit realm after you meet the other requirements,” she told them, “now, do you have a map?”

    Nelvana nodded, and Gengar pulled their map out from his large bag, setting it down on the cave floor. Ninetales studied the markings for a few moments, before reaching a forepaw out and scratching a line into an island marked south-east of where they currently were.

    “You will find them on the last floor of the dungeon known as Murky Cave, on Remains Island. Here-“ She drew another line on the edge of the continent. “-you will find Gull Village, where you will be able to get a ride to the island.”

    “Is that it?” Nelvana asked, “do we need anything else to get to this… judge?”

    Ninetales paused, something gleaming in her eyes for just a moment, “…no. No, there is nothing else.”

    “I guess we’ll be leaving then…” Gengar said, rolling up the map to put back in the bag. “Oh right, here’s your club, Nel,” he added, handing the weapon over to his ally.

    “Ah, that reminds me. Since you are here, there is something I should return to you,” Ninetales said, “wait here,” she instructed, turning around and began to hobble further down the cave.

    “We should leave while she isn’t looking,” Gengar whispered to Nelvana.

    Nelvana shook her head, “as much as I’d like to… this could be important, we should just see what she has for us.”

    A couple slow minutes later, Ninetales returned, carrying something in her jaws. Once she was in the same room as the other two again, she tossed her head, throwing the object over to them, landing at their feet. It was an odd item, appearing to be two hollow half circles, connected to each other by a hinge. The top half was a faded red while the bottom was a stained white, a button seeming to be attached to the top.

    Gengar jumped back at the sight, but Nelvana couched down beside it curiously. Upon closer inspection, the inside of this ball was dark, but seemed to have some sort of technology working it together. There was also a single line dug into the top half, just above the button. She could tell it was a purposeful mark, likely someone had taken a knife of sorts to etch it on. While it seemed to have once been able to open and close, Nelvana couldn’t get it to close perfectly again no matter how much fiddling she did. If it could close though, she figured that it would be about the size of an orange.

    “Why do you have this?” Gengar demanded, his voice wavering again.

    “You had left it behind in your haste to escape,” Ninetales told him coolly, “I knew I’d see you again, so I held onto it until then. You may have it back now; and please do take it. I don’t want such a revolting item around me anymore.”

    “What is it?” Nelvana asked, continuing to examine it in her hands.

    Before Gengar could explain, Ninetales spoke up, “that, is a pokeball. This one in particular was for Gardevoir. It fell off of Shinobi’s belt when she broke out to protect him. Humans back in Shinobi’s time would use pokeballs to capture pokemon inside of them, trapping them in there only until the humans needed them. And sometimes, they would never bring those pokemon back out, just leaving the balls in machines, all alone.”

    “T-That isn’t it!” Gengar exclaimed, “they would used to hold onto the pokemon so everyone could get around easier, and so that they couldn’t get hurt outside of battle,” he insisted.

    Ninetales scoffed, “I don’t suspect such sugar-coated lies will convince Gardevoir’s chosen.”

    Nelvana opened her mouth to speak, but Gengar snatched the pokeball out of her hands and sharply spun away from Ninetales, beginning to walk away.

    “We’re leaving. Is there a back exit to this place?” he muttered.

    “Yes, you’re going in the right direction,” Ninetales responded, “please do not return, Shinobi. I hope that will be the end of our business together for a long time. Though, if you ever wish to return, Gardevoir’s chosen-“

    “Yeah… I get it,” Nelvana sighed, “thanks… for your help, Ninetales.”

    “Anytime.”

    As they walked back out of the cave to the swirling cold, Nelvana found herself annoyingly aware that she had lost her left glove somewhere. However, she stubbornly decided not to go back in to look for it, and continued her way to catch up to Gengar, and eventually pass in front of him, resuming their earlier sort of marching order.

    “Wait a minute… there was always the entrance there,” Gengar realized, “dammit! We didn’t have to go through the ceiling!” he cursed.

    Nelvana chuckled, “yeah, sorry ‘bout that. I probably would have mentioned it if I remembered it myself. At least we got in there, and now we can get out of here.”

    Fortunately, it only took around an hour to get into warmer territories. The ground stopped being coated in ice, and the trees had shed the last of the snow from their needles as they progressed into a different forest; Thicket Shoreline, according to the map. If they just followed these woods around any dungeons, they would hopefully be able to make it to Gull Village by the next day.

    For now though, the both of them agreed that setting up camp early after all that would be for the best. After getting rid of her winter clothing, Nelvana began preparing another fire for the night. Thankfully, since she had packed extra food for the Frosty Forest and didn’t end up eating a lot of it, she figured they would have enough to last them to the village without having to search for a statue.

    “Hey Gengar.” Nelvana spoke up for one of the first times after leaving Frosty Peak. “Were you really honest about the pokeballs?”

    “Yeah,” Gengar answered immediately, but then hesitated. “But… I guess Ninetales was kinda right too.”

    “Hm.”

    “So, there aren’t any pokeballs where you’re from, right? You seemed pretty confused with this one.”

    Nelvana nodded, “yeah, no pokeballs,” she replied, “though, based on the description of what pokeballs do, I guess we had something similar to that. Apricorn balls.”

    “Oh, we had some of those too. Pokeballs worked better though,” Gengar mused.

    “Mhmm, not many people even used them. Too hard to make, and they rarely even worked. Plus, if you did catch a pokemon, they were unlikely to listen,” Nelvana continued, “befriending them is just better in every way; I’m glad the apricorn balls didn’t work out.”

    “Did you ever use an apricorn ball?” Gengar asked, blinking as he realized what a silly question that was. “Oh, I guess you wouldn’t remember-“

    “Once,” Nelvana answered, much to Gengar’s surprise. “Alex and I came across one that was abandoned, and I thought it would be a good idea to use it to protect Alex. I could just return him, get somewhere safe, and then let him out again. He didn’t like it much though, so I left it behind… wait.” She sat up straighter, eyes widening as she thought over what she had just said. “…how did I remember that?”

    “Oh woah, that’s pretty good though, right? You must be recovering memories!” Gengar exclaimed.

    “Doesn’t make any sense though…” Nelvana murmured, “how… and why?”

    “Maybe it’s because Gardevoir tried revoking the amnesia or somethin’. Does it really matter though? You have a chance to remember your past!” Gengar continued.

    Nelvana seemed hesitant, but finally relaxed again, “I guess I’ll figure it out later…”

    Despite saying this, Nelvana couldn’t help but continue silently thinking this discovery over, and repeating the memory in her mind as if she would forget it all over again if she stopped thinking about it. Eventually, she was able to let the excitement trickle in with this. It meant that there was a chance to remember her past; there was hope!

    Even later still, she managed to pull her thoughts away enough to actually use the badge to update her teammates. There was a text limit, so she had to think over what to tell them. She decided to skim over the Frosty Forest journey; they didn’t need to know much about her hypothermia. She also ended up skipping a lot of Ninetales’ odd behavior in her summary of that interaction, but made sure to mention where Gengar and her would be headed next on their journey. Despite her best efforts, there didn’t seem to be enough space left to include her possible memory recovery. Perhaps it would be better to tell them in person anyway… she decided, sending the message.

    It wasn’t long after that when other thoughts entered Nelvana’s mind; other voices.

    ~**You’re okay!**~

    Nelvana couldn’t help but chuckle to herself; looks like they wanted a telepathy conversation. That suited her fine. It was nice to actually hear from her friends again anyway…

    *I’m fine, don’t worry. How are things over there?*

First [ARC 1]: In which the human is transformed First [ARC 2]: In which a present is prepared Next: In which the journey continues Previous: In which the forest of ice is explored

[twitchesandstitches]

Boys Night at The Hellscape

Steven Universe, Equius Zahhak, Grimlock, and a traveler named Riddle who often comes along with the Fleet attempt to have a boy’s night out but wound up in a hellscape, where it seems an army of fiends wants to fight them!

Steven wants to talk; Grimlock wants to murder the shit of out the fiends for giggles; Riddle is just so done with all this, and Equius is doing his best to keep these ruffians sensible. And there’s the minor problem that Molog Bal, Daedric Prince of Schemes and Domination, apparently has a vendetta against the Fleet, but that is a Later Problem.

(Riddle is an OC from a friend of mine that I’ve been meaning to do something with, for a bit.)

The sky was no sky at all, a flat shade of… the eye hurt, trying to look at it, because there was no sky, but mountains twisting up and continuing, at such a horrifyingly vast scale that it occupied the trillions of miles that would have filled the sky. Clouds of acid dripped their sulfuric rain down and melted the unwary horrors beyond, rivers of vitriolic fluid sluicing down.

The ground, the mountains, and everything else looked disgusting. Grimlock reached down and pinched a bit of it, rubbing it between his metal claws. It made a red smear, stinking a familiar coppery scent. “Blood,” he said. “It’s all blood.”

Steven Universe, a huge and rather feral man built on the same broad lines as his infamously imposing mother, made a fade. Considering that he was over eight feet tall, packed more mass than you found in a group of humans, and had a mouthful of recursive tusk/fangs, it was strange how cute the expression was. “Oh boy, that’s nasty.” he leaned down and sniffed it, looking sick and irritated at once. He pinched at a rock, which came apart into little bits, and he spat into his hand, mixing up the gravel… and blood streamed out. He wiped it away. “Ugh, it, it feels wrong.”

“Blood of the damned,” said the third of their party, a man named Riddle. Of average size, a chunky pear-shaped body and a distinct resemblance to a famous wizard tyrant (though lacking his serpentine features), he wore a complicated battle harness that resembled a fancy spandex suit. Compared to the others, he looked deceptively small. “Blood of the damned. The entire plane is made out of all the blood shed by evil plans ever since time began. Rivers of the stuff, flowing here in some… weird, metaphysical way. And it makes more world.”

The fourth of their group, and the last, studied it pensievely. He was a troll, and thus a little over forty feet tall, standing tall on digitigrade legs he had modified to look like hooves. Cybernetic implants ran all over his body, and his arms (big even on his massive, hyper-masculine build) were entirely robotic hydraulic wonders. He was Equius Zahhak, rumored descended of an ancient troll known in folklore as the Blue Arrow, and he had been the designated ‘sensible person’ of this little field trip.

It was custom amid the Fleet for at least one person to do their best to try to be a rationally-minded and logical sort, just to rein in the impulsive behavior and frenzies of berserker-ness that permeated the average Fleet child. Equius was content in this role.

“That portal,” he said solemnly, “Should not have sent us here.”

“Nope,” Riddle said. Equius gave him a somewhat wary look, thinking about how he tended to just turn up as a passenger for a bit. Frequently. He was often seen in the company of Miss Wicke, a senior scientist and Pokemon caretaker and one of the Fleet’s strongest mothers, and he was likely the father of many of her children. They seemed to keep it more or less private.

Riddle was a mystery. He turned up now and then, with unusual powers quite unprecedented in the Fleet or among any they had encountered, coming with them for a time. And then he would leave. In the chaotic nature of the Fleet this sort of thing happened a lot, but usually not with passengers living among them; they came for festivals or hitching a ride, and settled down or went on their way.

He was, in short, apparently very well named. Equius distrusted him, in a polite and respectful way, but then he distrusted almost everyone that wasn’t from the Fleet. He saw himself in pretty much the same role as the Big Daddy creatures they had liberated from the Miscella core world; protectors and guardians, and he kept a keen eye on all potential uncertainties.

Steven was less encumbered by fears and he extended to pretty much everyone a universal love and acceptance that was a Fleet model of behavior; everyone strived to be as perfectly nice and kind as him. His continuing dislike of this place was pretty obvious. “Um, I don’t mean to say a swear but… we’re in Hell. Aren’t we.”

Grimlock glanced up. Flying above them were vast reptilian things like serpents but, instead of scales, faces sewn into their sides screamed endlessly, weeping tears that fell from their sides in a stream of a noxious fluid, best not to speculate on what it was. Various winged figures flew, not dissimilar to many bipedal reptilians but somehow… wrong, as if putting on their form could not hide the fundamental horror of their nature. Various parts of the ground liquified into rivers of blood that was also burningly hot, so hot it should have boiled but was magically preserved into a kind of lava. In the distance there were buildings of black metal and spikes, upon which were impaled people being tortured in terrible ways for their great sins in life… and vast war machines, powered by the toils of the damned, moved onwards to a background noise rumbling low and deep.

It sounded like screaming. So many voices screaming together it reached a thousand pitches so low it was a pressure more than a sound.

“Yup,” Grimlock said. “Definitely Hell. Well. A Hell. Dunno about there being a single one.”

Riddle gave him a look. “How do you know that?”

Grimlock returned the look. For a robot who was infamous for his emotional outbursts, assuming he wasn’t just faking them on the spot, he could do a really good enigmatic expression. “How do you know more than they do?”

“I’ve been around. I’ve heard stuff. You?”

Grimlock indicated the land as some awful frog/dog hybrid burst out of the ground, jaws wide and filled with hooks. He grabbed it and twisted its head off without even looking, and set the body on fire with a arm-mounted flamethrower. “Did a few stints with the Dinobots in a few places like this. We got real lost and stuck and just had a fun ol’ time beating the scrap out of every damn thing in sight. That’s a pun, by the way. Damn, and they’re the damned… eh, whatever.” he paused, lost in memories. “Happened a few more times, and then we stayed on purpose, killing all the fiends we could, working our way up to gutting an evil murder god or something. Be a good trophy. Heh… like to see Pearl manage that.”

Steven frowned. “Don’t talk mean about my sword mom.”

“Yeah, okay. Point is, they sealed us up for a few hundred years until we busted loose and got right back to killing. That was fun!” Grimlock joyfully snarled out a plume of flame, thrilled by these memories of righteous slaughter. “So… freeing! Fighting literal embodiments of pure evil! Monsters without pity, or remorse, that deserve none! Actual evil incarnate! No second thoughts, no worry about the moral implications, just ripping apart things that deserve to die. It’s real freeing fighting something like that.”

Equius nodded. “I suppose I can imagine the appeal.”

Riddle grimaced. “ Every time I hang out with you, Grims, you wind up getting nostalgic over murder or something. Don’t you have non-stabbing hobbies?”

“Well, I run a scrap heap art show back on the Fleet,” Grimlock noted. “But that’s not too cinematic.”

Steven, alone, looked to the hellscape beyond, including the pseudo sky. “Something big is coming,” he said, looking queasy. “I don’t… guys, this feels wrong.”

Grimlock sidled in front on hm in a wholly protective and unconscious way. “Stick with me, kid. You stay tanky, I’ll keep the rest of you safe.”

Riddle scowled. “I can fight fine, too.”

“Prove it, meaty!” Grimlock laughed, positively daring him to respond in kind.

Equius sighed. “Can we please stow the bravado-”

“NEVER.”

“-Something is coming!”

A great cloud of rotten dust came up as approximately two thousand feet came marching up, and they squinted at the mass slowly approaching them.

Fiends. ‘Demon’ was a bit of a generalist term these days, often referring to any supernatural being that was broadly humanoid, had a combination of horns or tail or wings, but it didn’t quite refer to evil creatures anymore. Demon was a general description. Fiend was more suitable for describing things that were, quite simply, elemental beings of concentrated evil in the same way that frost giants were elemental cold. They were wickedness, malice and the pleasure of hurting people given a voice and will.

They came now, a huge army that was organized reasonably well, if along old-fashioned paths. At the front were the smallest ones, twenty-foot high beasts suited towards speed, carrying supernatural analogues to firearms fused to their forearms and extended carapaces on the other that served as shields.

Behind them were the dedicated long-range fighters; monsters that were mostly gun or cannon, their jaws gaping and shoveling up all the blood-stone they could get, digesting it into ammunition. Others resembled bows, twisting themselves into gruesome shapes so that imps could slot in arrows over twenty feet long and thick as trees.

Close range fighters, riding dreadful flesh-eating monsters and ready to ride in and leap upon the foe: bloodthirsters, fiends hungry for the thrill of battle and emaciated with the bloodlust. Larger creatures, and at their feet moved the more mobile fiends and those serving all the other purposes of warfare, and these grew progressively bigger, living siege engines and equals to mortal machine-titans, growing bigger and bigger until the largest towered over the entire army, roaring defiance at them.

The army stopped, staring at them.

Shortly thereafter, a tall and spiky fiend that seemed to be mostly folded tendons in elaborate armor, and a sword as big as he was, rode up on something that looked kind of like a horse but mostly like a mix-and-match of various deadly creatures. “Good day, mortals,” it said cheerfully.

“Um,” Steven said, perhaps surprised to see a talkative fiend. “Hello.”

“Don’t talk to the fiend!” Riddle hissed, nudging the much larger man. “What if it enspells you!?”

“I know but… I’m not going to be rude!”

“I am a fiend,” the speaker stated, apparently interested by this debate. “Who cares about my feelings? I don’t even have any. I just assume the appearance of them for interaction purposes.”

“Okay but that’s still no reason to be rude.”

“Bored now,” Grimlock said. “Gonna kill it now.”

“Please, wait!” Equius snapped.

“I gotta. He’s just too annoying to live.”

“Let him say his piece, please?”

“Oh, fine…”

The fiend cleared its throat, dislodging a few gross bits. “I speak on my behalf, the great and mighty Daedric Lord; he who is the Lord of Schemes, Architect of Domination. This realm has, happily, fallen to his conquests and, aha, perhaps so shall you. I suppose you are wondering how you arrived here when, no doubt, your portal excursion was to bring you somewhere more palatable to your tastes?”

Riddle’s mouth opened. “How do you know- oh. Oooooh. You messed with our portal, didn’t you!?”

Grimlock growled, a primordial noise out of nightmare that made them all feel extremely uncomfortable. Even the fiend looked uncharacteristically concerned. “Ah. Well… it was naughty of me, but my lord greatly wished to test his powers against your own! For you see…” He wiggled a finger at them, scoldingly. “Your mother fleet has done much to frustrate his plans!”

“Okay…?” Steven said, warily.

“Going about all the multiverse, interrupting tyrants in their plans to dominate. Interfering in ancient schemes without even meaning to! Blundering right into planets and upsetting careful plots by liberating the populace and then breeding with every single sapient species, and making new ones on the spot! To say nothing of all this dreadful liberty coming across from you introducing new technologies into places that were being perfectly miserable and isolated without them.” It sighed. “I expect the Enemies in the Upper Planes are quite pleased with your lot but… really. This is just bad manners!”

“I hate this guy a lot,” Grimlock said flatly. “I’m going to step on him now.”

Riddle, however, looked thoughtful, as if remembering a report he had seen somewhere. “...Recently conquered a realm… Lord of schemes and domination… oh, shit. You’re working for Molag Bal!”

The fiend looked impressed. “Oho, you caught that one right away.”

“Who?” Steven said.

Grimlock looked surprised. “Don’t tell him anything!” He hissed to Riddle. To Steven, he said, “You’re better off not knowing!”

But the fiend continued. “You see, my lord wishes to match his military might against the power of you four. After all, against one of the last knights of Cybertron-” He indicated Grimlock. “A walking tank boasting impenetrable defense-” This was said to Steven. “A fascinating anomaly such as yourself,” This was to Riddle. “And of course, a blueblood troll with ample boosts to his strength, and gear to accommodate it! Why, this should be a most entertaining diversion for you, yes?”

“Flattering me won’t save you from ending up dead,” Grimlock said indifferently.

Equius sighed. “Then, you will attack no matter what we say. And I expect we cannot leave, one way or another, until this is done.”

“But of course. And you did intend on having a… what’s the term… boy’s night out, yes?”

“...Right. Okay.” Equius drew from his belt a pair of gauntlets that interlocked into his arms. Quad shotgun barrels extended out from each knuckle and loaded up with trick ammunition and projectile gadgets, while the forearms deployed mechanical repeater crossbow arms. The punches stored up energy, the crossbows released it into his very finest shots. “Not at all what we had in mind, but I see no alternative.”

Steven grimaced, his arm swelled up and in a flash of light, producing a curiously organic-looking pink shield, it’s face adorned with the image of a lion. “No one ever just wants to talk things out!”

Grimlock drew from his body an integrated sword as massive as he was tall, its appearance volcanic, it’s black blade bursting into flame as his heroic spirit flooded into it. The Blade of Simfur itself, said to have been wielded by the chimeric machine-god Onyx Prime, passed down through the line of kings of Simfur. “You really think you can talk to fiends.”

“I have to try. No matter how hopeless it seems.”

“...Heh. I gotta like someone that’s ridiculously brave.”

Riddle spread his arms, and magical mandalas materialized around his arm, absurdly complex and ready to summon forth the spells of his choosing. They flickered red, trying to tap into the energies of the multiverse and having to make do with the essence of this hellrealm; he looked queasy and disturbed feeling it flow through him.

The fiend raised his weapon, and brought it down on Steven. “Then let the game commence!”

The sword broke against his shield, in a massive shockwave that knocked him off his steed. Steven sighed and jumped up, and laid a hand against the fiend. Then he grabbed and somehow threw it straight off the ground, into the air, and Grimlock’s fist slammed into the ground while meeting the fiend in route.

Grimlock’s punches were entirely capable of smashing through mountains and planetary cores. The fiend was reduced to a bloody smear. “‘Bout damn time,” Grimlock grunted.

And that was the signal agreed about earlier, unknown to them, and the two thousand fiends charged, in orderly fashion, and the four heroes charged to meet them.

It really wasn’t fair to the fiends, of course, but when you dealt with people who benefited from the powers of the Endowed Fleet, what could you do?

[sharky-boshaw-appreciation]

Sharky rescuing Deputy from Joseph's bunker a year after the great collapse. And they go back to Jacob's bunker that was taken over by what's left of the Resistance and Joseph vows to take the Deputy back

*I love this prompt!*

Sharky leaned back against the concrete wall of the bunker. It was Jacob’s. After the resistance managed to push back against the peggies in that region, they took Jacob’s bunker, keeping all of the supplies and gear.

It was a good thing they did.

The nuke dropped and with the snap of fingers, Hope County was nothing but ash.

Sharky had managed to hide himself in a nearby bunker until the brunt of the explosion and fallout. He had enough food and water to last until the resistance managed to find him. They had been on an expedition, looking for supplies. Boy, was he glad they found him. He was out of rations for a couple days and started to think he was going to waste away.

For a bit, though, he thought that maybe it wouldn’t have been such a bad thing. He never found out what happened to his Deputy. He didn’t know whether or not she was alive, if she had been killed by the seeds, or obliterated by the explosion.

She was his light. Her absence left him in darkness. They reassured eachother when things went south. They comforted eachother when baggage became too heavy. She was everything to him and that was all the motivation he needed to go find her.

Could any radiation exposure potentially kill him? Yeah, but what was the point if he couldn’t boogie with her one more time. What was the point if he couldn’t hold her in his arms again, feel her soft hair under his fingers?

There woudn’t be.

“Sharky, we are going by Dutch’s bunker next. Tammy and Wheatly would like to know if you are coming along.” Sharky felt hopeful for a moment. Dutch was the closest one to them and his bunker would have been able to withstand the blast. Could she and her deputy friends have made it to that bunker? If there was a possibility, then by god he was going to investigate it.

“Got nothin’ else to do. Might as well go up to get a nice, fresh breath of radiation.”

Wheatly smiled at the at Sharky’s attempt at humor and left him alone.

Too soon? Probably.

Everyone here changed after the deaths of all of those people. People who were influential to their cause and led them valiently, were wiped out. It left many people helpless and hopeless, including Sharky.

“Well, let’s get a move on, doggy…”

…

They wore the special radiation suits that were stached within Jacob’s bunker, bringing extra in case they found any survivors. It was a harsh journey, the land was ravaged by rubble and rock, the earth splitting in huge gaps or appearing to have crumbled.

Dutch’s bunker didn’t appear to be affected though, the ground appearing to be intact around it.

Sharky stared at those metal doors. It made him sick to his stomach, thinking about not finding her or worse, finding a corpse. Tammy knocked on the metal, the sound echoing over the empty land.

Silence.

Why wasn’t anyone answering? Sharky kept quiet, getting a bad feeling. He looked to Tammy, silently inquiring about her next choice of action. Her idea was to use the repair torch in order to get in.

Tammy looked to Wheatly, gave him a nod and he knew exactly what to do.

The anticipation crawled up the pyromaniac’s throat.

Sharky held his gun tightly In his hand, while Wheatly began to cut the door. “Do you think anyone’s inside?” He asked, more directed toward Tammy. She let out a sigh, “Dutch is supposed to be here. He had goods prepped, I just hope it was enough.”

Sharky got a bad feeling. “Don’t you think Duch’d’ve opened the door if the guy was down there? He coulda heard the racket we’re makin’ a mile away.”

Tammy was in thought for a moment, staring off into space, before answering, “He would’ve. I’m thinking that we may always have to assume the worst and hope that we’re wrong. There’s always a chance of that.”

Wheatly and Sharky pulled open the doors and stared down into Dutch’s bunker and were suprised to be met with Dutch’s corpse being nailed to the wall, his sins carved into his flesh.

“DUTCH!” Tammy screeched and had to be held back by a crying Wheatly. Sharky was the only one who didn’t feel phased by it. Dutch was never rude to him, but made it clear that he never thought Sharky could be taken seriously.

Wait.

Who came down here to kill and hang Dutch up like Christmas lights? Deputy and himself personally saw to John’s, Jacob’s, and Faith’s death. The only one left who would have stood any sort of chance against Dutch would have been Joseph, himself.

And if he made it here…

…then Dep could be here as well.

“Tamms, imma need you guys to stay up here. I’m gonna go check and see if anyone’s down there.”

Tammy looked like she wanted to protest, but kept her mouth shut, giving him the extra suit bag.

“Be careful.”

He made his way down the steps, passing Dutch on the way. He smelled so bad, skin beginning to rot. It was a shame, but there was no time to mourn. Adrenaline pumped through him at the thought of Joseph being down there.

He stepped in to the rooms. They look lived in and marked with the PEG mark. He peaked into Dutch’s radio room. Empty. Office? Empty.

‘Check the bedroom’, he thought to himself.

He readied his gun, took a deep breath, and entered. To his surprise, there was his Dep, cuffed to the bedpost. She looked dirty, bloody, and malnourished.

“DEP! Are you, alright? Dep, come on and wake up for me!” He cupped her hollowed cheeks between his palms, stroking her greasy skin with his thumbs, not giving a damn. “Come on, baby… We’re gonna get you outta here…”

“Lock…” she whispered.

“Got to… pick the lock.”

He got up to find the key only to be met by Joseph’s fist colliding with his face.

“Charlemagne. Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” Sharky grabbed his shot gun off of the floor, cocking it and aiming it right at him.

“I’m takin my Dep and I won’t say it twice.” Joseph put up his hands, showing he was unarmed. “

She is my child, Charlemagne, and I am her father. You will not take her from me without consequence. You can try and take her now, but you will regret it later.”

“That’s what you’d like to think, Broseph. WHEATY! TAMMY! GET DOWN HERE!”

He could hear the frantic pace of their footsteps as they came down stairs into the bunker.

“Where are you!?” shouted Tammy.

“We’re in the bedroom! Move your ass!” Sharky, held his finger over the trigger, staring straight into Joseph’s eyes. That fucker tortured her and he was going to fucking pay for it.

“What did you- Joseph? The Deputy? You piece of shit!” She about charged him, but Wheatly held her back.

“Get the fuck off of me! I’m gonna kill this sonofabitch!” Tammy struggled to pull free and was only silenced when they heard Dep whine.

“Don’t… Please don’t kill him… just take me and go… don’t hurt him… please, Sharky.”

And how could he deny that? He couldn’t. He wanted to put that fucker in the ground for everything that he’d done.

“NO! THAT FUCKER’S BROTHER KILLED ELI!” Wheatly’s face contorted into almost agony. He wanted to let her go. But he trusted the Deputy’s decision and pulled Tammy back.

“Jacob paid for that with his life. Just leave Joseph here. It isn’t like there’s anything here. Please…”

Sharky stepped forward, pressing the gun against Joseph’s chest.

“Start walkin’ and go to the next room. We’re gonna lock you in a room and take along your weapons, then we’re gonna get my Deputy out of here, and then we will unlock the door. If you start somethin’ I won’t fuck around. I’ll kill your ass whether she wants me to or not.”

He didn’t say a word and did as told, sitting in the old bunkroom. After searching the room for any possibly stashed weapons, they left to search for any goods that may be left.

He let Tammy pick the lock on the cuffs, since Joseph wouldn’t tell them where the key was, and helped you into the radiation suit.

“You are insane. You have lost your mind. You expect us to just let that fucker live?”

The Deputy looked at Tammy with tired eyes. “He suffers more being alive than dead. Trust me. I would know.”

Sharky came back with a duffel full of guns.

“Are you feeling alright, Dep? Baby girl, how’s your legs? You gonna be alright to shuffle?”

She laughed weakly, falling forward into Sharky’s grip. “Sharky… Thank you! You keep telling me that I’m the hero, but you save me countless times. You should probably be the new Deputy.”

Sharky pulled her tightly against him, tangling his fingers Into her hair, gripping her jacket like it was his lifeline. “Nah. That’s too much responsibility for me, Sunshine.”

He gave her back to Tammy so she could be helped out of the bunker and left him to unlock Joseph’s door.

“You are going to regret this.” He heard in a whisper from the other side of the door.

“You come anywhere near her again, you motherfucker, I will shove my flamethrower up your ass and cook you inside out. I’m not bluffin.’ I’m past the point of kidding around.”

Silence. Click.

The door was unlocked and Sharky was gone.

“I promise you that I’m going to get her back. You won’t be able to stop me this time. God is watching. God tells me this is what’s right. God tells me that she belongs here. God won’t let them take her.

God won’t let you take her for long.“

(Sorry it’s so long!)

[crystalelemental]

Gen 7 was unique for me, in that I was actually present and invested in a lot of the early reveals.  The unfortunate situation is that, during reveals, they showed the right things to get me excited, only for a lot of final forms and unknown things to miss their mark.   Alolan variants also wound up being too few and not sufficiently interesting to justify its inclusion, with Z-moves also being introduced but doing nothing to change competitive value of most things and just pushing power creep forward.  The real selling point of this generation was the story of SuMo (which was obliterated by USUM), and the inclusion of Ultra Beasts, the coolest concept the series has ever had.

TOP 15: 15) Comfey - Comfey was a Pokemon I just kinda liked at first.  But with its ability Triage, I attempted to run one in a tournament one time, and my god can this little shit put in work.  Leech Seed + priority Draining Kiss is hysterical, with Calm Mind boosting its damage, and either priority Synthesis or Aromatherapy being great final move support.  Comfey has a lot of sick tricks it can pull, which is great when combined with its cute look and beautiful shiny form.

14) Mareanie - Remember when no one knew what the hell Mareanie was? When it was accidentally revealed on the side of the Pokemon TCG box, and everyone was like "Oh man, what could that be?"  Those were fun times.   Even better was how cute this thing was.  Those times, during the leaks of Gen 7, were excellent, because we had all these cute options that I just knew I needed to get.  Unfortunately, Toxapex loses a lot of cuteness upon evolution, but it could've been a lot worse.  As we'll see soon.

13) Pikipek - Meet the bird that was going to be my favorite in the series. Pikipek was another Pokemon I was sure would make my final team.  I love woodpeckers, and having one in the game was divine.  Giving it Skill Link was even better, and announcing it would know Bullet Seed somehow improved it even more.  It was setting up for something incredible!  Too bad that, like many things this generation, it didn't live up to the potential.

12) Morelull - I adored Morelull.  It's such a cute mushroom creature.   Maybe it's just my bias, but if it was going to evolve, I had expected it to be a mushroom princess-type plant.  Something beautiful and elegant and lovely, befitting the glowing mushroom fairy child.   And...well...needless to say, it was not that.

11) Mimikyu - Does anyone not like Mimikyu?  I'm actually asking, because it seems like this is the fan favorite this gen.  Mimikyu is either precious or terrifying, and both are great.  It's either sad and lonely because it wants people to love it like they love Pikachu (or Raichu, in my case), or it loathes Pikachu with all of its being and wants to destroy it.  Either is fine.  Ghost/Fairy is a great typing, and it has perhaps the most unique ability in the game, operating as a free Substitute that doesn't prevent status.  This allows for some great setup, and allows it to be surprisingly good in competitive play as well. Which...surprised me, for sure.

10) Oricorio-Sensu - Oricorio is a neat Pokemon.  We've had other things in the past do a similar thing, most notably Castform and Rotom, but Oricorio still manages to stand out to me.  Sensu form in particular is my favorite, being a Ghost/Flying type with a really elegant design.   It's a beautiful bird, and a great Pokemon visually, but unfortunately lacks necessary coverage and stats to be competitive.

9) Stakataka - You know what's awesome?  Ultra Beasts.  They are the coolest thing to come out of this series in ages.  Stakataka, as a newer one, is basically just a sentient brick wall, where each brick is an individual life form, all operating together to be bigger than their opponents.  While I am disappointed that there is not a pre-evolution that is a single brick called a Taka, I suppose this is fine.   Rock/Steel is a notoriously terrible typing, but somehow, against all odds, its stats are set just right, and it has access to Trick Room and Gyro Ball, in order to blast through almost anything in the game.  As if that weren't enough, its shiny form is a solid gold brick wall.   Incredible.

8) Ribombee line - Cutiely is another of those defining Pokemon that got me invested.  Thankfully, unlike several others, its evolution was just as adorable. Ribombee is such a precious Pokemon, with its little scarf and pollen gathering nature.  I just adore how cute and wonderful this line is.

7) Tsareena line - Talk about disappointment.  I adore Tsareena.  The whole evolutionary line.  But when it was revealed, and when we got a look at its ability that shuts down priority, I thought we'd finally done it.  This was the moment that Tsareena would save Grass types.   Fast, strong, able to shut down priority, it could be amazing!  And then we see what it does...and its bulky offense. Grass...cannot do bulky offense.  We've tried this.  A lot.  It doesn't work.  Power Whip is too inaccurate while Trop Kick is too weak.  High Jump Kick is damaging, but runs a lot of risks with imperfect accuracy, and is useless in Doubles.  Even Play Rough is inaccurate.  All this, on top of a middling 72 base speed, which is just too fast to even use with Trick Room...and it all becomes a massive disappointment from the competitive side, which is the ONLY reason she doesn't rank higher.  Her design is excellent, the concept of a queen of fruits is interesting, I just really wish they'd let her be a bit more powerful.

6) Tapu Lele - Had you asked in the week before the game came out what my favorite Pokemon was, Tapu Lele would've been the answer without question. It's adorable, Psychic/Fairy typing is great, and the description of it made it sound like it had tremendous healing potential that it shared with others in a fickle manner that could cause excess harm, with its battle role being implied to be a mix of healing and status play.  And then it was revealed what it did.  And it's hyper-offense through and through.  I still love it!  But the concept of a Pokemon that worked through massive healing potential and status play to wear down an opponent would've been a lot more interesting than something whose stats mirror Gardevoir's but a bit higher, but had a god-tier ability.  It's ultimately complicit in Terrain Wars, which is the new Weather Wars from Gen 5, which I don't think many people are happy with, but I still love it just the same, even if its description was an absolute lie.

5) Pheromosa - More UBs!   Pheromosa is a pretty bug creature that will kick the shit out of you.   It's stupid fast, even outpacing Mega Alakazam, and has incredible offensive presence on both sides of the spectrum as well.  It does lack for defense, so priority can be a problem, but that's a small price to pay for having such excellent coverage options and such a great spread of stats.  Plus, again, it's very pretty, and has a nice shiny that even put on pants.

4) Lurantis - Lurantis is one of those Pokemon that I feel sets the entire feeling for a generation.   The instant I saw it, I knew I would train one, no matter what. It's such a beautiful Pokemon, and I love it dearly.  But, again, it kind of defines the competitive focus of this generation as well.  It's slow as hell and bulky offense.  Look, Gen 7, I get it.  More than power creep, speed creep has been running rampant in your game.  Megas across the two sets of games last gen went from base 100 to base 110 because 100 just wasn't cutting it anymore, and new megas needed to be ahead of the curve (even if you fucked over Gardevoir to give Gallade better tools, again making the male version the better one you shits).  But bulky offense is dead.  You killed it yourself.  Damage outputs are too damn high, boosting moves are so extreme that one boost is enough for several Pokemon to just sweep outright, and because of how EVs work you are required to pick a role.  Bulky Offense for something whose best stat value is 105 is terrible, and it's never going to work.  Maybe with Trick Room.  Maybe.  But even then we run into the problem where it's a Grass type, and is therefore awful in competitive by default.  It's a shining example of what needs to be addressed in competitive, because outside of grass being shafted and the stat spread being awful given the state of things, it has incredible tools that should help it to function.

3) Primarina line - What an excellent starter Pokemon.  Popplio can look a little doofy, but it's still cute.  And each evolution only ramps up the beauty.  Brionne is precious, and Primarina is one of the most fabulous Pokemon I've ever seen. Water/Fairy is always an excellent typing, and it's surprisingly straight-forward as a raw special attacker.  It also has an emphasis as a singer, which I always appreciate.  If it weren't for my favoritism for foxes, Primarina would easily be my favorite starter in the series.

2) Celesteela - More UBs!  This time, it's the 30ft rocket child, Celesteela! Celesteela is one that I loved based on design, but wasn't quite as high-ranked initially.  What propelled it upward was battle performance.  It is such a wall, and unlike some UBs, has a moveset that actually feels distinctly alien.  Leech Seed?  Giga Drain and Flamethrower?  On a Steel/Flying type?  It's the weirdest thing, and by extension, the coolest thing.  Celesteela is amazing, and I wish other UBs followed its lead and showed off some bizarre and alien moves.

1) Nihilego - The ultimate being.  Nihilego is, without question, my favorite Pokemon right now.  As an Ultra Beast, it's already doing great on concept alone.  It's an alien jellyfish monster that's parasitic in nature, attaching to other living beings for sustenance, but being toxic to most things to which it attaches. It has no clear-cut consciousness, being more reactive than anything, though apparently acts much like a young girl, for whatever that means.  It's an adorable Pokemon, too, and carries the incredibly unique Rock/Poison typing, technically being the first-ever Poison legend, if you count UBs are legends.  It's an unbelievably cool, creepy, and adorable Pokemon, and I love everything about it. I just wish it had gotten a signature move or something that made it seem more alien.  All its moves are standard, despite it having an atypical typing and bizarre stat spread.  Maybe some day they'll introduce new, unique moves for each UB, but somehow I doubt it.  Pokemon Company is really bad at changing things that need to be changed retroactively.

BOTTOM 10: 10) Incineroar - Starting out, it's the final stage evolution almost no one wanted, Incineroar.  While not inherently bad, and at least avoiding the Fire/Fighting curse, Incineroar's main problem is as a final stage to Litten.  Litten is cute and wonderful.  Litten is also a cat.  A species that, for some reason, is consistently awful in battle in this series.  Incineroar should've been an exception.  Should have.  Instead, it's a wrestler in a cat suit, losing the charm of a cute cat, and somehow is still not all that good competitively.  Intimidate will help it, but it's lacking in the ability to really impress with anything it does.  Combined with the rampant disappointment over a cute starter becoming a weird, tough heel wrestler, I think it definitely earns a spot here.

9) Toucannon - However what's more upsetting to me is what happened to my dear Pikipek!  Toucannon is fine on its own.  You want a toucan?  Great, go for it.  But don't make my precious woodpecker child your angry toucan that's slow as hell and has no benefit from Skill Link.  Pikipek should have been a final form that perfected the Cinccino strategy.  Instead, we get...whatever Toucannon is doing.  It's one of the greatest disappointments of this generation, and considering the complaints I had in the top 15, that's saying a lot.  However, I won't place it any lower, simply because Toucannon, on its own merits, is cool.  I like its signature move, even if it's bad.   The design is perfectly fine.  But it being attached to Pikipek as the final form is devastating, and earns it this spot, in the same way as Incineroar.

8) Togedemaru - My usual complaint about regional rodents.  Togedemaru is more battle-worthy, but that almost frustrates me more because it's just not that interesting.  It's also associated with Sophocles, which means it loses any charm it could've had by being not related to him at all.

7) Crabominable line - My long-standing bias against Fighting types.   Ice/Fighting is a unique typing, but it does little to impress me on this one.  It's slow and lumbering and kind of unimpressive in design.  I guess it's supposed to be like the abominable snowman, but...why is it a crab?  I dunno, I'm probably being petty, but I don't like it.

6) Bruxish - Imagine being a person whose favorite type is Psychic type.   Imagine seeing all these really cute Pokemon being revealed, and building up your team, and just waiting for the Psychic type that will blow your mind.  Now imagine the first psychic type they reveal is Bruxish.  This weirdly colored fish with odd lips and and teeth.  I immediately decided to use the next revealed Psychic if I could, because this wasn't getting on the team.

5) Oranguru - Oops, and here's the next.  It's a monkey!  You love those, right Steve?  Oh wait, I hate them.  Oranguru does nothing for me, but frustrated me more than Bruxish because somehow, after the first Psychic wasn't interesting, the second was somehow worse.  It should not have been like this.

4) Passimian - But what do I dislike more than inelegant Psychic types? Fighting types.  Passimian is a sport-themed monkey that is also a fighting type. Honestly, we should be stunned it's not #1, but if there's anything I dislike more than something completely opposed to what I like, it's something that changes what I enjoy into something I hate.

3) Ultra-Necrozma - In the same way Lando-T counts as its own thing because of differences between forms, Ultra Necrozma counts as its own separate entity that is terrible.  I debated Zeraora, because I already don't like it, but that seemed unfair (and also would not rank this high).  I debated putting this above a few things at least, but I feel like it deserves this spot.  Because it sucks. Psychic/Dragon legend.   You all wanted to complain about Solgaleo/Lunala being Psychic-type, and I agreed because yeah, that is a common legend typing and variety is nice, but how did this thing get away with both Psychic and Dragon but no one else is complaining?  That's literally the two most common legend typings at the same time!  It's because it's Dragon and you all love Dragons, isn't it?  Hypocrites.  The ability is really only good in specific situations, requiring super-effective coverage to truly shine, which means there's probably plenty that can wall it based on coverage gaps or 4 move slot syndrome.  It's also one point of speed away from matching things like Mewtwo, meaning it's going to be easily outpaced by certain threats and annihilated.  Its signature Z-move also does absolutely nothing interesting beyond high damage, reminding us all how worthless that mechanic was in the grand scheme.  Oh but, don't worry, in the game it'll be way higher than your average party level by this point in the game, get +1 to all stats, and have stupid good coverage options that allows it to OHKO everything you have all the time, unless you abuse Rotom Powers, so if you don't like that mechanic, too bad, get used to them, fucker.  And this isn't even truly tearing into the design.  From a weird alien monster, to a cool form where its armor has fused with the box legends to control them, and finally...glowy dragon. Riveting.  And to cap it off, its role in USUM is fairly meaningless, and it takes away focus from the far more interesting situations with Lillie's family, and instead brings all attention to "LOOK AT THIS COOL DRAGON!" that is not really that cool at all.  Without the focus on the characters that made SuMo work, you can basically say that USUM being bad was largely this thing's fault, because it's the kind of monster that's all flash and no substance.

2) Bewear line - UGH.  Okay, red pandas are adorable.  So the Pokemon based on an adorable thing should be adorable, right?  It is not.  It is horrific, and it's based on a "mascot" that wears a suit.  It's dead stare, obscene strength where it's noted to be able to snap people in half from hugs, and generally unsettling nature and just...awful.  I really don't like it.  Stufful is at least a little cuter, but the weird tag sticking out of its butt is a constant reminder that this is a creature which should not be.  But wait!  This is only #2!  What could possibly be worse than something that is a crime against nature?

1) Shiinotic - The complete and utter ruination of a Pokemon I could not have been more excited for.  Morelull is such a cute and precious creature, and it evolved into this horrific nightmare alien baby in a literal diaper.  Why would you take such an adorable and lovely creature, and turn it into this?  I have never felt such visceral hatred for a final form of an evolutionary line in all my life.  Morelull should've been beautiful.  And if we hadn't shifted to mega evolutions and Z-moves and all this, maybe I could've hoped one day for a Gen 4 scenario that offered different evolution paths or further evolution.   At least then it could've been a Golbat situation, or a Glalie.  But instead, this is it, probably forever. Morelull will only ever be this freak-ass alien baby in a literal diaper, and will never realize the beautiful potential it had.  Tragic.

[panickypeachboy]

REPOST. DON’T REBLOG. post TEN characters you’d like to roleplay as, have roleplayed as and might bring back. ( if you can’t think of ten characters, just write down however many you can. feel free to go over ten, too. )

CURRENTLY PLAYING

Momotaro: @panickypeachboy (main, is here like 90% of the time)

Honoka Kawai: @gracefullysweetcheers

Someya Ryouta: @aplushemporium, may be moving soon.

Tsuchinoko Panda: @tsuchipanda

HAVE PLAYED

Little Red Riding Hood, from the same game Momo’s from (Zombie Panic in Wonderland). She’s an excitable ball of energy who does have some sense of staying grounded. Quite skilled at fire arms and cooking...and sometimes combines those two passions. Well mostly the flamethrower with cooking that is. Been thinking of bringing her back occasionally.

Koromaru, for less than 3 days. I loved his character, and he’s such a sweet pup! But because I haven’t played Persona 3 or Q (plus some life situations happening), I ended up dropping him quietly. Would’ve liked to have found more official pics to use as icons.

Teddie, that was very VERY short lived. I’m only good with bear puns man, not doing his flirty side. Or identity crisis.

Hajime Tanaka, one time thing, and my very first RP character! A friend was teaching me the basics of how to rp at the time! We were in the Ouendan fandom...and then that sprawled into a crazy thing within the next few years.

Pajama Sam. Yeah I did rp as him, also very briefly. I still wince at the fact I tried to rp that kid. Didn’t fit that situation, for sure.

Astro Boy(?): My first attempt at doing a forum rp...it was a bit interesting while it lasted. Just a hospital plot but, I don’t remember much beyond that. Definitely think he was based off of the childish 2000s version.

WOULD LIKE TO PLAY

Probably bring back Red, maybe...somehow. Beats me. It’s hard to wrangle more than 2 characters...or even more than one for that matter! Still someone who’s extroverted is easier to rp than someone who’s introverted...at least for me?

I will need to check back in if I would like to rp someone from Zero Escape, particularly 999 cuz I’m working on that right now.

And yet again a Persona mascot catches my eye, but I’m on the fence about rping Morgana. Shouldn’t be making some sort of weird streak man.

Maybe Ness??? Although my previous portrayal of him (in fan-arts) has been a determined crybaby of sorts. Another reminder I need to finish his game. Although this is more like, should I really step onto something I was obsessed with in the past?

Uhhh, should I rp someone from the animes I’ve been keeping up with? Probably not. It’s hard enough to rp Momotaro when he has a child-like mentality at times. Plus a chunk of those animes do have a fair audience right now and I’m scared I can’t give the young teenage protagonists justice.

Tagged by: kinda by @hopeprevaiils!

Tagging: @notevenjupiter, @plumeriaxskull, @niji-iro-melody, @maracanight, @despairsuccessor, @gattaimuses, but anyone can do this, or not!

[baronfulmen]

A year ago today, in the wake of the Pulse nightclub shooting, I lost my shit on Facebook.  I have still not found my shit, and I believe it is gone forever.

I used to try and have conversations with the pro-gun crowd where I would be reasonable and calm and look for areas of compromise and try to hear and understand their point of view.  Certainly there were some things they said that I did and still do agree with - for example, that many of the attempts at gun control legislation are targeting features that are essentially cosmetic or otherwise manage to proclaim that the folks who wrote the legislation either don't know or don't care how guns actually work.  But in general, I ran into way too many arguments that were hateful, cowardly, selfish, and stupid - and all this while watching the number of shootings climb predictably higher every day.

So I lost it, and said I was done with reasonable conversations and if they want a boogeyman that's going to come and take their guns then fine, that can be me.  I'm coming for your guns.  I want to replace the second amendment with a wet fart noise and a photo of my middle finger.  Show me where to sign, I'll ban everything from machine guns to starter pistols.  I'm done with calm and reasonable discourse, because every time I tried it got me less than nowhere.

And, guys, let's be honest.  Yes this is me having a temper tantrum - a well earned one, I would argue.  But who cares?  Do you really think that it's actually going to happen?  Do you really think that America (you already knew I'm an American because I mentioned an epidemic of mass shootings and guess where that's a thing?) is going to out of nowhere after all this time come door to door and take all your precious guns?  Of course not.  You are never in any actual danger of losing your murder tools. But anyway, I wanted to document some of the worst pro-gun arguments, the ones that made me just give up on any kind of reasoned discourse:

1.  THE SECOND AMENDMENT!!!!!1!!! Like, that's it.  That's the whole argument.  I could get into a big debate about how different the circumstances were back then, or what the original intent of the 2nd amendment was, but no.  The fundamental problem with people that incoherently yell this is that they think the 2nd amendment existing is in and of itself a moral argument in its own favor.  Guys that is total batshit insanity.  "I should be allowed to do this because I'm allowed to do this" is not an actual functional argument, as it applies to any situation where slavery or child prostitution or whatever is legal.  Being allowed doesn't mean it SHOULD be allowed.  Go fuck yourself.

2.  If we don't have guns, we're all going to get killed by people with guns! There's an easy way to test this.  Let's look at other countries where they don't have guns.  Huh.  That's strange.  Looks like there are way less people getting shot to hell over there.  They don't have all these mass shootings for some reason, nor do they have widespread nightly murders by gun.  It's almost like your argument is a stupid counterfactual shit heap. Go fuck yourself.

3.  Okay fine but look at the number of stabbings over there, you want to outlaw knives too? Yes let's look at those numbers!  Please!  What's that?  Mass stabbings are less common and kill less people per incident because it's harder to mass stab a bunch of people to death?  Strange I would not have expected this oh wait.  I mean, yeah, it is not some amazing news flash that humans will find some way to harm each other.  That doesn't mean we should immediately throw up our hands and start distributing flamethrowers. Go fuck yourself.

4.  I need guns to defend my freedom from our tyrannical government! The funniest part about this is that it's always said by people who are not remotely oppressed by our society and who don't seem very vocal about defending those who are.  Shouldn't they be taking up arms against all the police that murder black people?  No?  Interesting.  Really this is a transparent power fantasy where they imagine that they're super important defenders of freedom and masturbate to the image of the government coming for them so they can be the valiant hero.  This is the same as a nerdy picked-on kid reading books like Harry Potter and wishing they could be some sort of chosen one except that the latter is harmless escapist fantasy and the former is nutjobs wielding actual murder devices.  I guess the better comparison would be someone literally dressing like a wizard all the time and hoping his parents will lock him in a closet so that he can blow things up with magic.  Go write a book or play some sort of militia-themed role playing game or something.  Living your stupid fantasy in real life is not healthy.  You're not going to overthrow the government, dumbass. Go fuck yourself.

5.  If you try to take my guns I will have to kill you, and murder is bad therefore you should let me keep my guns. Yes this is a real thing I have been told.  Just typing it out caused a nosebleed from the overload of stupidity, so I need to address this quickly lest it cause a fatal brain hemorrhage.  This stupid argument works for literally anything I'm willing to murder someone over.  Let's try it with slaves!  "You can't take my slaves away or I'll have to murder you, and murder is bad" yeah shit there goes the nosebleed again.  This is the worst and dumbest argument.  "Hi I am a dangerous psychopath so I should be allowed to do and have whatever I want" is not a way to run a society. Go fuck yourself.

6.  I can make my own gun, so you shouldn't ban any of them! Okay cool story!  It's not really news, even before we had all sorts of 3d printers and stuff it was trivial to make a super shitty gun.  But guess what else?  I can make bombs.  I can make a breeder reactor in my backyard - don't make that illegal just buy my neighbors some lead undergarments.  Hey guys, exciting news!  Anything dangerous you can make in your garage is now 100% legal!  Wheeeeee! Go fuck yourself.

7.  I want them therefore I should be able to have them because FREEDOM. I want to think of a clever way to say 'go fuck yourself' but I don't really feel like this 'argument' deserves even that minimal level of thought on my part.  So, go fuck yourself!  If you don't understand why this is an idiotic argument then there is no hope for you.  Convince yourself that I hate freedom or whatever, that's fine.  You're an idiot. You know yourself? Go fuck that.

FINAL THOUGHTS If anyone is like "Hey, Baron Fulmen, you were really rude and dismissive and isn't it a bit hypocritical to say these are bad arguments but then respond to them with things like 'go fuck yourself' which is in and of itself not a real counter-argument?" then holy shit have you missed the goddamn point.  This is me saying that I have given up on these gun-fondling assholes, I am venting about the observed inability to have a productive conversation when I *don't* just tell them to go fuck themselves, and I am saying that if the result is going to be the same either way I might as well tell them they're idiots that can eat a sack of fermented skunk shit.  I can no longer care about being friendly with people that value their murder-toys more than the lives of their fellow human beings.

And yes, to you out there all ready to raise your hand and be the gentle and reasonable voice of compassion that argues for calm discourse because these folks have been mislead by powers greater than themselves, I do understand the impact of fear and misinformation and insecurity and how the gun lobby and other forces manipulate people to... whatever.  Fuck it.  Don't care anymore.  Go have that conversation elsewhere, this is a place to tell people who can watch the endless parade of victims of gun violence and say 'worth it' to die in a fire.

Thanks.  I now return you to your usual program consisting of cute animal GIFs and shitty short stories.

[roaringsora]

Peko and the Ultimate Performance!

[Flashback] [BGM: Po Town - Pokemon Sun/Moon OST] About five hours ago, a trainer named Aoi Tategami was participating in a Island Challenge with the Ghost-type Champion, Acerola. Though unlike Aoi's last challenge attempts where all she had was a Meowstic, this time around she only bought Alice the Mimikyu. Its a risky choice for her, but the trainer and her first Pokemon were still in uneven levels. Aceola was in charge on watching Estelle, to which she had fun pampering the Constraint Pokemon. However, when the challenge was done, the Abandoned Mart was raided with Team Skull Grunts who hid across the Poke-Mart and without making a noice or scaring themselves! (About a half of them are already traumatized by the Ghost Pokemon...) "Pesky trainer! You come with us this time, along with your precious Pokemon!" says one of the grunts. "N-NO WAY!!" said Aoi, but it was far to late when the over-leveled Grunts actually defeated Aoi and Alice, which the two were already exhausted from the Challenge! Acerola and Estelle took notice on the screams, but when they entered, the Grunts already took the trainer and her Pokemon! Acerola know where they are heading too... "Estelle! I think these silly heads got your trainer and friend at Po Town! Its a pretty dangerous turn overrun by Team Skull! But I wonder why they took a trainer this time..." Acerola returns back to the Aether House and made a phone call to her uncle and Kahuna, Nanu to "keep eyeballs" on Aoi and Alice. Acerola and Estelle bond up for now to set on a rescue mission to save them... [Present time] Its Day 2 after Team Skull made a daring move to kidnap a child as ransom, and so far there is no sign of a ghost trainer nor a (talking) cat Pokemon. But... Their morning ended up waking all Grunts abruptly! "BOOM!!!" It came a loud explosion kind of noise. Most of the grunts went outside to see what's going on, and all they can see from their tired eyes was smoke. The female grunt coughs. "H-Hey! T-Those are Adrenaline Orbs! Hundreds of them!" she shouts a noise, after the female grunt saw a piece of blue scrap from the bombs that were known to sold at PokeMarts! From the smoke of Adrenaline Orbs, a single female figure enters the town, with nothing but her Aether Foundation uniform. "Hello there! I thought I make a visit, you beautiful scums!" ^^ The last two words already made the entire Grunt population angered by her words! "W-WHAT DID YOU SAY?!" "YOU had a whole LOT of nerve to bomb our territory and use the money that we could have stolen from you for something MORE USEFUL than 100 Adrenaline Orbs!" And of course the rest of the complains were spoken in Team Skull Grunt quotes. The Aether Foundation employee, female in appearance and shape shook her head and shrugs in "disapproval". "Ahh... You idiots.... I'm surprised you goons have not FULLY disband Team Skull yet. Some reason "evil" really irritates me. And as evil scums you all for steeling and harming Pokemon, I'm afraid I can't let you all go until you get just deserts..." Half of the Team Skull members look at each other with confused looks. "W-What are you talking about?!" "We are PROUD of Team Skull! If only our boss wouldn't leave the efforts we have put through, then we wouldn't... A-Anyway there is no point little princess! Why won't you go home with your Aether Foundation parents and never come back!!" The female shook her head again in disapproval. "I don't think it will not gonna happen! I need a couple of punching bags like you guys to finally calm down and feel satisfied. Bring your Pokemon out if you must. The long lost Performer Peko is bringing back the center stage!" said Peko, ending her speech with a idol pose! [BGM: Party You Up - Kors K ((You don't have to listen to it, its just happy hardcore music))] The Grunts were lost in anger, seeing a Aether Foundation dancing and frolic around, and as they start to gang up for a fight, their efforts of punching that "smug face" of the Aether staff were wasted as she begun kicking and punching back! "O-Owww!!!" "C-Cheater!!! How can she even fly?!" This battle had done "crazy" to the point that words are difficult to describe this "performance"... .... .... .... At the mansion, several Grunts were called over by the injured ones to come out and stop a "mad dancing Aether Grunt". "Bruno! Brutus! Get your butts down and stop this mad child! Forget the captive!!!" said the grunt. Several got the word and begin to leave. In Guzma's abandoned throne, the trainer Aoi and her gothic lolita friend Alice was in the room. It turns out, during the trial, Alice was in her human form defeating the Totem Pokemon because "she felt like it". This made the Grunts think that Alice is also a trainer, so they did not think that Aoi had a shape shifting lolita for a Pokemon, which was OF COURSE her Mimikyu. When the Grunts were gone, Alice morphs back into her Pokemon form and attempt to find the keys for the door. "We will make haste... Don't worry... Aoi." said the talking Mimikyu, to which the Disguise Pokemon did not take more than five minutes to find the room key buried in a chest full of Bugarium-Zs, which Aoi took one as a complementary price. The two escaped their prison with no problem and on their sneaky way to the outside. Just from walking around the roof, she can see that a Aether F. staff member was fighting alone with a bunch of Grunts, but something was different with her hair... "H-Hey... Her hair turned a silver color...?" said Aoi. Alice remains silent. The Mimikyu went first, which Aoi quickly caught attention and follows it to the open areas of the mansion and follow their way down to the first floor exit. Back at the field, the "Performance" end up going "mad wild" with Grunts now summoning various Pokemon! The performer sees a Salandit, observing its moves and then start to transform into that Pokemon! "W-WAIT?! S-SHE TRANSFORMED?!" "WHAT THE HELL!!!" "NOO NOT MY FORMANTIS!! ANYTHING BUT MY FORMANTIS!!!" The girl who is now a Pokemon begin to breath Flamethrower onto the grunts in a spiral fashion! Many of them begin to flee, thinking its a ghost haunting down the grunts for their bad deeds! Others had to flee due to a battle disadvantage! "M-MONSTER!!!" "IT'S THE REVENGE OF THE DITTO WE SLAUGHTER TWO MONTHS AGO!!!" Trainer Aoi and Alice the Mimikyu were just about out from the mansion when the rain SLIPS her boot and slams her face onto the floor! "OOF!!!!" When Aoi slips, A small Pokeball slips from her belt, which was a new ball, and some reason, the transformed Salandit did not pay attention and somehow the ball was tapped on top of her head! "Eh-" In the right time, Acerola, Nanu and Estelle the Meowstic came in time to see the abandoned Po Town, and a Pokeball attempting to wiggle out for freedom. But fatigue really tire out the mysterious creature, and it finally accepts its defeat. Alice and Estelle quickly went to check the Pokeball. The two wanted to speak, but the Captain and Kahuna are right at their faces, so they remain quiet and speak in Pokemon. Aoi was not injured, but her boots got the best of the rain and the mud end up being the result of the slip-up. "Aoi, are you alright?" Acerola asks. Nanu quickly piggy backs the girl. "I-I'm alright... B-But I think I twisted my ankle a bit..." said Aoi. Alice quickly picks up the Pokeball and Estelle with Aoi's belongings. The group hurries to the Pokemon Center to have all three Pokemon recover, and Aoi on the ER. No seirous injuries on the trainer. Same goes for the Pokemon. But... ... ... ... [No BGM, maybe except for you preferred calm music.] Ding! Not to long, and Aoi was restless. She was settled in to a wheelchair for the night until her foot recovers. Acerola is having fun pushing her all over the places like a child, but its no smiling matter when Nurse Joy walks out with some news. "Hello Aoi! Glad you are well! There is some... Interesting discoveries I encountered while recovering your Pokemon. Estelle and Alice are alright, but the new addition... Is a unique case, I might call it? But it refuses to speak so... I think you had the right to talk to this.... Person." "H-Huh? Uhh okay?" said Aoi. She looks puzzled, but Acerola seems to be having fun playing clueless child for a moment. "Oooh! Exciting! Can I see your Pokemon too?" said the ghost trainer. "Y-Yea..." Aoi replies. The two enters the ER and saw both Estelle and Alice standing in-between from what looks like a boy, fully up and sitting on the bed stretcher. He... Looks very unhappy about something. Top of that, WHO is that boy anyway...?! [Clifhanger. End long-ass drabble! Do not reply, unless you want to guess on who Peko really is...?]