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glassessence · 3 years

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PGR - OC

I got so inspired by everyone’s creativity that I created my own OC ^^” Even though she’s a member of the Purifying Force, I hope she’ll still be received warmly. Special thanks to @punishing-gray-raven-ocs for their detailed posts about character creation that really made me think about Lydias!

Warning: I may have gone a bit overboard with the detail. It’s a long read! Also, I threw in a not-so-subtle reference to the most traumatic Memory Rescue mission lmao. So proceed with caution, I guess HAHA

Name Lydias: Umbral

Type Offensive Support-type Construct

Service time 1 year

Psychological age 24

Activation date 15 March

Height 167 cm

Weight 59 kg

Vital fluid type O

Faction Purifying Force

Rank A

Weapon Chakrams (preferred) / Gun

Damage type 70% Dark, 30% Physical

Lydias is a support-type Construct modelled after Watanabe’s Astral frame. She has extreme stealth capabilities and excels at tracking, making her ideal for the execution of rogue and infected Constructs.

Her missions mostly involve infiltration and spying, although she’s also been deployed on assassination missions. Those orders come straight from Nikola and their records are kept top-secret, inaccessible even to Bianca.

Her frame is designed for long-range sniping and comes equipped with visual accuracy enhancements and superb calculative powers. However, Lydias prefers to engage her targets in close combat. Killing Constructs from afar feels cruel and cold, like they really are meaningless machines instead of former comrades.

She truly believes in the good of the Purifying Force, but hates the things she has to do. She doesn’t feel like she belongs, but also can’t see a future for herself anywhere else.

Her fighting style is very graceful, featuring a lot of spins and flips that are reminiscent of a dance. Her signature move is called “Blade Dance.”

B A C K G R O U N D

Lydias was born to a wealthy family in Babylonia. Her mother joined the war effort as a Commandant shortly after she was born and is known as the leader of the elite task force, Cybele. Since then, Lydias has always wanted to follow in her mother’s famous footsteps.

Originally a Commandant of the Black Wolves, a certain incident caused her to give up the position and apply for reconstruction. Despite having low compatibility for Tantalum-193, her application was approved after negotiations with Nikola. Following her surgery, she was transferred to the Purifying Force.

P E R S O N A L I T Y

Shows affection through actions rather than words. Bakes cakes for the humans of Babylonia in her free time

Philosophical, often ponders on the nature of humans and of the war

Likes to make dirty jokes and tease others

Obedient to a fault because she doesn’t trust her own judgement

Comes across as cold, but is just awkward with introductions

Doesn't think very highly of herself. Ignores it when other Constructs call her "traitorous hunting dog" but secretly thinks they're right

Loves the sea and the fathomless depths yet to be explored. Likes to go swimming at every opportunity

Prefers to work alone, but overprotective of her comrades when in a team. Frequently throws herself in harm’s way to shield her teammates. Knows it’s not good, but is too haunted by her past

Trusts easily, but is very guarded with her heart

Knows how to dance a lot of old-school styles like ballroom and ballet, but is too shy to ask anyone to practice with her

S E C R E T S

Has memorised a lot of poetry from before the Punishing Virus outbreak

Gets intensely lonely and jealous when seeing close squad camaraderie like Gray Raven’s

Avoids Kamui because he reminds her of someone she’s lost

Has spied on Watanabe extensively under Babylonian orders and is deeply fascinated by him

Doesn’t trust Nikola, but is unable to disobey his commands

Secretly harbours doubts about Babylonia’s mission to reclaim Earth

Has obtained special permission to download the data of the Black Wolves and often reads the records to keep them alive in her heart

V O I C E L I N E S

“Team leader? No, I refuse. You’re making a grave mistake.”

“I’m not suited for protecting people.”

“My opinion on the Forsaken? They’re hardworking, loyal, and--Nevermind. We seem to share a similar goal.”

“The Black Wolves? Where did you hear of that name?! Don’t mention it again!”

“I baked a cake today. Would you like some?”

“Yes, I can dance. But I’d prefer it if you didn’t tell the others…”

“I can teach you to dance. Privately, if you’d like. Haha, just kidding.”

“Becoming a Construct was a decision I made rashly. I don’t necessarily regret it, but…”

“Are we really doing the right thing? This endless war… All these years… What have we really achieved?”

INTERLUDE

D U S K F A L L

A voice cracked over the intercom. “...dant…Com...ant...Commandant, do you hear me?!”

Lydias blinked. The urgency in his voice caught her off guard. Ferdinand kept his cool even in the most dire of situations. Something was very wrong. “Tell me, Ferdie.” Static. “Ferds? Come through!” Nothing. Communications had been poor ever since they’d entered this area, but they’d managed until now. For it to suddenly fail like that… it couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Shit,” she said, turning to the other two Constructs with her. “On guard, guys. Something’s coming and comms are down.”

Ilya grimaced. “Sure it’s not one of Ferdinand’s pranks again?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Flora offered, even as she tightened her grip on her lance. “Pesky little bastard would find it hilarious.” Lydias said nothing. She was too tense. There was a taste in the air, a metallic tang that churned in her belly. Sweat dripped into her eye. Suddenly, a hand slapped her on the back. “Relax, Commandant,” Ilya chuckled. “We’ll protect you like always. No need to be so scared all the time.”

Something in her loosened, just a bit. “Shouldn’t I be the one protecting you?” she retorted, trying to project confidence. “You guys with your fragile little M.I.N.Ds?” Flora laughed, a deep-belly rumble that Lydias loved. The knot in her stomach unravelled some more. “You do that, Commandant,” Flora said. “We’ll just twirl our pointy sticks at the bad guys.”

Lydias was just about to say something snarky when she caught movement in the corner of her eye. She swirled, gun at the ready. There was still no word from Ferdinand. “I’m sensing a large Corrupted force in our perimeter,” Ilya reported. His voice had lost its casual lilt. “They’ve got us surrounded.”

Lydias cursed. “How’s that Memory retrieval coming along?”

“Slowly,” Ilya replied unhappily. Flora clicked her tongue. The Corrupted were visible now. They weren’t like anything Lydias had seen before. They carried advanced weapons - chainsaws and spears and bows - and seemed to be organised into phalanxes. Dread coiled in her belly. “We’ve been ambushed,” she breathed in horror. “Ferdinand tried to warn us. They must have blocked off comms.”

“Well, shit,” Flora grunted. The Corrupted army was within gunshot range now. “When the fuck did they get so smart?”

“Someone must be leading them,” Ilya said. “How did the information leak?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Lydias said. “We need to retreat. Now.” A bullet flew by her head, burning the shell of her ear as it passed. Her heart hammered. “Back off,” Flora growled. She twirled her spear, eyes flashing as she impaled the Corrupted soldier. Beside her, Ilya stepped forward, fast as a flash, and stabbed one through the neck. Lydias fired off three shots, watching in grim satisfaction as two buried themselves in the heads of two infected Constructs.

The scene descended into chaos just as Ferdinand’s broken voice sounded in her ear. “...n...way! Comm...ant!”

-----------

Flora stumbled back. She was breathing heavily. Vital fluid leaked steadily from several places, staining her coat a rich purple. Ilya was behind her, grimacing. His left arm was gone, torn away at the shoulder. Sparks flew from the exposed wires within. Beside them, Lydias swayed unsteadily. She clutched at her stomach. Red blood seeped through her fingers. All their attempts to break through had failed. Things were looking more hopeless by the minute.

“Commandant,” Ilya said, voice strained. “Turn off my pain receptors.” Flora nodded. “Same here.” Lydias coughed wetly. Her vision was growing dim. “It’s dangerous,” she admitted, wishing she could shut off her own terrible pain. “But there’s no other choice.” She authorised the command. Her team’s face relaxed immediately. She met their determined gazes and nodded. “We’re all gonna go home. Together.”

Ilya smiled. Flora grinned. But there was a sadness in their faces Lydias didn’t want to acknowledge. Her connection with Ferdinand was still blocked. He could be dead for all she knew. She turned away from the thought. Just survive, Lydias. And take the Wolves home.

Together, the Black Wolves rose. Ilya with his dagger and Flora with her spear. Unseen by Lydias, they nodded to each other. An agreement, a pact. A promise. Renewed, they threw themselves at the Corrupted like cornered animals. Slowly, inch by painful inch, an exit was being forced open. Corrupted weapons dug into their bodies, but they pushed on.

Lydias fought beside them, swinging her chakrams haphazardly. Her gun had run out of ammo long ago. She stumbled, half-blind, and almost skewered herself on the end of a Corrupted sword. She could hardly think straight; blood loss was making her weak. Suddenly, a voice crackled in her mind. “Commandant!” Ferdinand’s voice tumbled through her hazy thoughts. “The signal jammer is gone. What’s your status?!”

Her heart soared, bringing with it a brief burst of clarity. “Ferdie! It’s an ambush. We need support!”

“I’ve already informed Babylonia,” he said urgently. “Reinforcement is on the way. I’m coming to you, Commandant. Just hold on!” His signal blinked to life, moving rapidly towards their location. Lydias smiled grimly. Ferdinand was on his way. Support was coming. Surely, they would be okay. They would make it out of this. She just had to hold on for a little longer.

Flora’s signal pulsed unsteadily and Ilya’s grew fainter with every breath. Lydias clung with desperation to the unstable M.I.N.Ds of her Wolves. I will protect you.

-----------

“Coming through!” A ray of energy tore through the Corrupted wave. Lydias spied Ferdinand’s face through the sea of blades. She almost wept with relief. “Retreat,” she said hoarsely, struggling to stay conscious. “Black Wolves, retreat!”

On cue, Ilya and Flora rushed through the tunnel, half-carrying Lydias with them. Between one ferocious breath and the next, they’d broken through the Corrupted circle. She tumbled bonelessly into Ferdinand’s open arms. He took a brief moment to survey her and paled. “The meeting point isn’t far,” he said. “Support will be there.” He picked up Lydias and turned to run, but Ilya and Flora didn’t follow.

“Sorry, but this is the end of the road for me,” Flora said wryly. “Didn’t think it’d end like this.” She spat out a wad of purple fluid. “At least these fuckers will go down with me.”

“And you get the privilege of dying by my side,” Ilya said primly, readjusting his grip on his dagger. Flora laughed, an edge of sadness in her voice. “Yeah, old man, I guess I do.”

Lydias stirred in Ferdinand’s arms. “No,” she said, forcing herself to meet their gazes. “I won’t allow it.”

“Unfortunately, Commandant,” Ilya said. “This time it’s not up to you.” He raised his remaining hand in a salute. “It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

“Go on,” Flora growled. “We’ll make sure nobody pursues you.”

Ferdinand pursed his lips, but nodded tightly. Lydias fought in his grip. She hardly even felt the pain. “No!” she screamed, or tried to. It was hard to tell where her voice was. “Don’t! I forbid it! That’s an order!” He started running. She watched helplessly as the distance grew. “Stop! Go back, we have to help them! Stop!”

In the fading light, Ilya fell and was immediately consumed by a horde of Corrupted hands. His signal weakened then blinked out. A scream tore itself from her throat. She thrashed in Ferdinand’s grip and felt his hold on her loosen. White-hot pain shot through her body as she tumbled to the ground. Mad with grief, she crawled forward desperately, mind blank except for the desire to be with her Wolves.

Strong arms lifted her up. Ferdinand’s lively voice was dull. “Please don’t do this, Lydias.”

“Let go, Ferdie,” she said angrily. “We have to--” Flora’s signal flickered out. Lydias felt her spirit break. “No,” she cried. “Please, no.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. Words abandoned her. The world seemed to shrink, compacting to a single thought: she had failed.

-----------

She woke to white light. Something beeped steadily beside her. Tubes ran from her body to several machines like the tentacles of some deep sea creature. Her entire body hurt. Immediately, she reached for the Black Wolves, but their signals were absent, leaving her mind uncomfortably empty. Panic settled like ice in her veins. It couldn’t be. It was impossible.

Surely, they had recalled their consciousnesses. Surely, she’d simply woken up early. And where was Ferdie? Gasping, Lydias stood, dragging her broken body to the wall of windows. She brought a fist to the cool glass. Nikola watched her from the other side. “Where are they,” she croaked. “What happened?”

He shook his head sympathetically. “They didn’t recall their consciousness. According to our records, Ilya and Flora died protecting you from pursuit. Ferdinand was infected.” His eyes were grave. “He guarded you until reinforcements arrived.”

She didn’t know if she could bear the answer, but she asked anyway. “And then?”

Nikola studied her for a long moment before giving in. “And then the Punishing Virus took over his M.I.N.D. He escaped because we prioritised your survival.” A desperate hope sparked to life within her. “So he’s still alive? Then there’s still a chance! Please, let me find him!”

“You know it doesn’t work like that.”

“Please,” she begged. “Please.”

He turned away from her. “The Purifying Force has already been sent after him. I’m sorry, Lydias.”

-----------

Three weeks later

“Are you sure?” Nikola asked, studying her with intensity. “Your chances of success are only 47%.”

Lydias stared at him blankly. “I’m sure.”

“I’m afraid I can’t allow it. Commandants are valuable to Babylonia. Perhaps even more than Constructs. Few possess the will and compatibility to stabilize M.I.N.Ds. Someone as experienced as you is not expendable.”

“Then I quit being a Commandant. I refuse to lead another squad.” She looked away. “I couldn’t protect any of them. Not a single one.” Her voice broke. “I’m not… I don’t think I can--I just can’t.”

Nikola considered her with some pity. “What do you want then, Lydias?”

“You know what I want. I’m not afraid of dying.”

“I know you’re not afraid, but it seems to me like you seek it.”

She said nothing. Nikola sighed. “I’d rather not lose you completely. You have experience and ability. The Black Wolves were specifically chosen for that mission for your competence. Aife will increase our combat power significantly against the Corrupted.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s unfortunate, but these things happen at war.”

“Say whatever you want,” Lydias said stubbornly. “But this is my final decision.”

“Fine,” Nikola said. “Your attempt at redemption is admirable. I’ll grant your request, but if you survive, you’ll work directly under me. Is that acceptable?”

“Perfectly.”

INTERLUDE HIDDEN CHAPTER

F A D I N G L I G H T

Flora: Fairfrost - Voice Log

*sounds of fighting* I hope this reaches you, Commandant. I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer and… *grunting* I just wanna say goodbye. The old man’s already gone. I felt his signal die out a while ago. He went down taking a blade for me, can you believe it? Even though I’m the Attacker Construct. *panting* You know what his last words to me were? “It hurts.” As if our pain receptors weren’t turned off. I know what he means though. *blades clashing* After all, we all wanna go back home with you. But life’s a bit unfair, eh? For once, I don’t mind. Protecting your back… it almost makes me feel like a hero. That ain’t something you experience every day, y’know? *metal tearing* I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you. For being someone worthy of love. *crash, wet coughing* It’s been my honour and privilege to have been one of your Wolves, Commandant. You’ll remember me, won’t you?

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Ferdinand: Aegis - Voice Log

Lydias… This will probably be my last communication with you. I never would have thought this would be how it ends, but… Well, I’m just glad that I get to spend my final moments with you. I can feel my M.I.N.D. slipping, but Babylonia will be here any second now. They’ll take care of you, the way I wish I could. *sigh* Ah, there are so many things I want to say. I have nothing to lose anymore, so I hope you’re ready to listen. *deep breath* I love you. The way you laugh at my jokes and tease me. The way you can talk about anything. Your smile, your lips. I love the way you kiss me. And of course, I love our late night activities… Such as you trying to teach me to dance. *short laughter* Were you expecting me to say something else, Commandant? You--*grunt, glitching* Looks like my time is running out. I should go, but promise me one thing, Lydias. Promise me you’ll keep your heart open, so that someone else can love you as you deserve. I--You--*glitches*

DATA CORRUPTED.

#pgr #punishing gray raven #pgr oc

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loxxxlay · 5 years

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100 word meme

hiii, so I’ve been wanting to try this for a while since it seems to work out really well for @veliseraptor and i feel like it’d work out well for me too? so gonna give it a shot

rules are you vote for a fic and i write 100 words in it. so basically if u want a fic posted faster, vote for it, because a vote means i’ll actually work on it (hopefully XD). it’s mostly just a helpful way for me to have tangible goals that i can work toward without having to make decisions about what those goals are myself XD

[edit: oh yeah you can vote for up to 3]

so without further ado, here’s the list (as is traditional, with bonus excerpts as a reward for helping me with executive brain functions lmfao):

1. (Figment of Choice) [tw grandthorki shenanigans]

“Oh, but dear, if I had known it’d be like this, I would have had you change ages ago. You’re simply beautiful!” He smiled and ran the ends of his fingers down Loki’s jaw.

Loki resisted the urge to bite them. Monster, he thought. Tears gathered in his eyes. “Please,” he begged. “Please don’t do this to me—”

“Loki, we’ve talked about this.” The Grandmaster made a disapproving clicking noise with his tongue. “Yesterday even. Didn’t I specifically tell your brother how I prefer those who are willing. Those who enjoy what Sakaar has to offer. What I have to offer. Are you telling me you’re not one of those people?”

“Yes,” Loki said by habit; then, “I mean, no—no, I am, I just—I don’t think—I can’t—”

“Shhh,” the Grandmaster said. “You know how much I hate hearing don’t and can’t. Come along, sweetheart, get up. As lovely as you are, I’m not only here for you. Time’s a’ticking.”

2. (The troy and lola story of my soul) [tw implied noncon/dubcon and csa]

Troy watched his friend disappear into his carriage, and then he watched a butterfly trail from flower to flower, and then he watched the sun approach the white mountains in the distance. His legs ached with the strain of standing as he watched, but he didn’t move. Moving would mean admitting the fact that his twin had been suffering for years. Suffering the same torment he himself had escaped. Moving would mean having to face the fact that his brother (sister?) might resent him.

As he stood, he tried—he focused his entire mind upon an imagined woman lying nude in the lounge of a brothel. He tried to feel what she felt. He tried to feel the weight of a body on top of his or the repetitive aching of his insides. He tried to feel the unbearable numbness infecting his limbs with cold. But there was nothing, no sense of life from his twin. Nothing except the ghosts of his own memories.

“My Lord,” Margaret called from the patio, “won’t you come inside?”

Troy sighed but didn’t turn. “You know to call me Theodore.”

“It’s cold out here,” Margaret said as if she hadn’t heard. “At least let me fetch your cloak.”

Troy didn’t answer, and a moment later, he heard the door bang shut. He waited a bit longer. For what? He didn’t know. But then the crickets started chirping, and the chill of nighttime wind raised goosebumps on his arms, and he managed to stomach his fear and turn to face the house.

3. (Forget Me Not, Remember Still) [tw domestic abuse, grandthorki shenanigans]

“You look so sad,” Thor said, and Loki hated that his voice sounded at all like the Grandmaster’s. “What’s bothering you?”

Unsure whether it was safe to answer, Loki pressed his lips together.

“Tell me,” Thor said, just as gently, but—Loki could sense the difference in his patience.

He took a breath. “It’s nothing,” he said.

“It’s something,” Thor argued. “Now tell me—or do I have to remind you what happens when you try to think for yourself.”

Loki steeled himself against a flinch. Almost subconsciously, his hand came up and his fingers pressed against the bruises at his neck. The shirt he’d wanted to wear would have covered them, but this—it exposed him. It made him look weak, like a victim—and truly, was he not a victim now? Was he not being abused?

Wincing, he looked away from the mirror before the sight of himself could make him cry.

“Oh, Loki,” Thor said. “You’ve made some mistakes. All those marks show is that you’ve learned better. They’re nothing to be ashamed of.”

To you, Loki thought, and then shut the thought off.

4. (On Our Terms) [tw grandthorki shenanigans]

The Grandmaster sighed loudly. “I don’t mean to offend you, but your society sounds quite borish.”

“It is,” the Valkyrie said, “but it’s the one we got, and I doubt you have room for three thousand potentially borish people here, so . . .”

“Yes, yes, your point has been made,” the Grandmaster said. “But you see—I’ve grown quite fond of these two, and I’m not quite sure if I want to let them go. Especially since they seem so eager to stay.”

“Yeah, I get it. So what’s your price?” she asked in a casual tone.

“My price? Goodness, gracious! I’m not the type to just sell these poor boys to the highest bidder. My dear dear 142, you should know better than to suggest such a thing! Absolutely unbelievable.”

There was a silence. Loki held his breath, closed his eyes, and tried not to think. Whatever happened, it wouldn’t matter what he did. It wouldn’t matter what he said. In fact, it might make things worse if he spoke, and things were already bad enough. The best he could do was keep silent and be good and just . . . wait. Wait to be dragged back into their nightmare.

Under the table, Thor’s free hand slipped around his and squeezed. Loki was numb, too numb, to care. He didn’t squeeze back.

At last, the Grandmaster gave a long put-upon sigh. “I suppose, I might be more . . . favorable to your wishes if you were to, hmm. Play a game with me.”

The Valkyrie shifted in her seat. “What kind of game?”

5. (thor ficlet whumptober chapter 4) [tw past noncon]

With a deep breath, Thor slipped on a robe over his nightshirt and pants (he no longer slept without a shirt), and headed toward the door. There was one person, in all of Asgard, besides her, who knew. His brother had every right to be angry. Even now, Thor remembered the things he had said the night before—before—and those had been his own words, not hers.

As he came to the door, feeling small and afraid, he remembered the morning after. How Loki had begged him for an apology and had not received one. How Thor had stood on the other side, unable to be anything but callous and cold. Their positions were reversed now. Thor prayed his brother would be more kind.

Trembling, he knocked.

Loki answered the door, not a minute later, robed in black and green, hair curly and disheveled. “Yes?” he said as he rubbed his eyes—and then, before Thor could answer, his face smoothed and his eyebrows furrowed low and angry on his face. “Did she try something again?”

“No,” Thor rushed to say, but Loki’s expression didn’t soften. Cheeks aflame, Thor fixed his gaze on the golden stone archway of the door and studied its numerous ridges and cracks. “I can’t—sleep,” he managed. “That—bed—” His throat felt hoarse. He returned his gaze to his brother and tried not to let the desperation seep into his voice. “I’m afraid to sleep alone.”

6. (IW AU thor whump) [tw violence]

“Let me make this clear,” Thor said. He ripped a strip of cloth free from his cape and toyed with it between his hands. “I follow the doctrine of my master because it’s what I believe. But even if I didn’t? Even if you somehow managed to convince me otherwise?” Thor lifted the red cloth and pressed it between the bones of her jaw. “I would follow him anyway. There is not one single thing you could say to dissuade me from his offer, universe be damned.” He tied the cloth in a knot on the back of her head. “Do you understand?”

Eyes blazing, Gamora kneed him in the thigh.

Thor stumbled. His heart sped, as he realized she’d been aiming for his crotch, and in a burst of rage, his hand clenched into a fist and raised in the air—trembling and white-knuckled and desperate to hit her back.

He didn’t do it.

There was something in her face that sparked a memory in him—one of Loki, handcuffed and bright-eyed and braced for a blow on the Asgardian skiff. The time they’d gone to avenge a mother who had left them alone too soon. The time Loki (seemed to have) died. For a shocking moment, the woman in front of Thor looked just like his brother. From the the tension in her shoulders, to the set in her lips, and to the glassiness of her wide eyes.

He lowered his fist. Grief cascaded over him, and it weighed like bricks on his chest and needles in his heart. In a count to ten, Thor reminded himself of the doctrine and of Thanos’s offer—the gauntlet, with all five Infinity Stones, would resurrect his brother. This woman—this traitor—couldn’t. The choice was easy.

“Get some rest,” he said, numb and cold. “Xandar is several hours away.”

7. (Zombie Post Apoc Novel) [tw grosss vagina shit, implied noncon]

At night, Helen catches her in the bathroom. The door is cracked open, and Cassandra is standing, one foot planted on the tub’s ledge and the other foot on the floor. Her hand is between her thighs and she’s holding the lighter under her clit, until the air sizzles with the smell of burnt flesh. She comes like that. Helen knows because tears leak from Cassandra’s face whenever her orgasm is real.

“I’m sorry,” Cassandra whispers when she notices Helen watching. “I have to.”

And Helen doesn’t bother arguing. Larry may dead, but there are countless Larry’s, and even if there aren’t, Andrew hovers in their room sleeping on their bed. Something has to burn. So Helen just closes the door behind her, turns on the vent to clear the smell, and grabs Neosporin from a drawer under the sink.

Cassandra sits on the bathtub ledge. “Maybe we should stay,” she whispers. “Maybe it really is better here.”

Helen kneels on the bathroom tile. “You’re gonna kill yourself if we stay here, babe.” Then she rubs the Neosporin over the folds of her sister’s vagina, and when the burns are good and treated, tears of ecstasy leak down Cassandra’s face.

In the silence that follows, Cassandra bites her lip. “If it comes to it… I don’t know that I could pull the trigger.”

“You can,” Helen says. “Just pretend you’re holding a lighter.”

8. (Moment of Peace)

#gonna do a blanket tag of #cw noncon #because most of these fics have it lol #but each is tagged individually #lox talks personal #fic excerpt #placeholder writing tag #ask thing

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jheaton416 · 5 years

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Ace and Sep’s Greatest Hits

With Sad Hands and heavy hearts we bid farewell to Ace and Sep's Buffy recaps...

"I get it now. The Slayer thing really isn't about the violence. It's about the power. And there's no one in the world who has the power to stop me now." Just then the Hubris Police step in in the form of Rupert Giles and throw a bolt of green energy at Willow, knocking her clear across the room. "I'd like to test that theory," says Giles, all tall and authoritative. Oh, Giles! Hi! I missed you so much this season! We have so much catching up to do! Let's see. I just finished my finals, and I think I did rather well. And I met a very nice boy who just happens to live in England, so when I'm over there this summer, if you wanna hang out or something just let me know. I gotta hand this over to Ace now, but... call me!

Sep, "Two to Go"

Sep: So there I was. At Trader Joe's, and boom. No Booty to be had. And you know my dedication to all things snack. Ace: I feel your pain. The other night I was at TJ's and they had all these different kinds of Booty from Fruit Booty to Vegetable Booty, but not the Booty that I wanted. Sep: Yargh. That blows. Ace: Snerk. So anyway. Ash asked me if I wanted to get one of the other varieties, but I just felt that if I couldn't have the Booty that I wanted, it was better to have no Booty at all. Sep: Dude. That's deep. And also would have saved me much pain and humiliation in my early twenties.

There are tiny colonies of single-celled life at the bottom of deep fissures in the sea using their cilia to tell each other, "Buffy used Spike." Can we please move on?

Sep, "Never Leave Me"

Ecch, I hear a noise like forty cats being squeezed too hard around their middles. Turns out it's Cordelia singing "The Greatest Love of All."

- Ace, "The Puppet Show"

i dont have time to read all theze post but did u hear what happens in the finale? every vamp and demon that buffy has ever kiled is rezrected and they all sing at spike and angles WEDDING!!!! OMG!!! laterz Sep (Go on. Ban me. I dare you.)

Sep, in the forums

Aw, Willow is wearing shorts and showing more Willow-leg than I believe we've ever seen. What a cutie. ... Giles finally pipes up that he's sorry he missed the encounter, but he actually sounds like he's sorry these damn kids won't leave him alone so he can pour himself a nice single-malt Scotch and watch that Letty The Lusty Librarian tape he has hidden in his nightstand. ... Dracula wears a sweater vest? Well, I guess that answers the age-old question: "What does Dracula wear under his cape?" Or was that Scotsmen? Who does he think he is anyway, Chandler Bing? ... I would like to point out that Spacky is wearing more eye makeup than the entire female cast combined.

Ace, "Buffy vs. Dracula"

Credits. Who does James Marsters have to sleep with to be billed before Michelle Trachtenberg and Emma Caulfield? Ooh! Please let it be me. C'mon, if y'all give me James I won't ask for anything else for my birthday or Christmas. What? It worked when I was ten. ... Look! Xander is using a skill! Effectively! As he's building shelves for Giles, I notice that he's attired in jeans and a plain long-sleeved shirt. It looks like after his other half fell into the Gap, he managed to climb out with a basic grasp on the matching theory.

Sep, "Out of My Mind"

I know this is an unpopular opinion, but I love the 'Bot; I really, really do. She's so cute and happy and chirpy and I just know reanimated Buffy is going to be an angst-y pained ball of angst just like she was all last season, and sometimes I wish we could just replace her with the robot permanently. Especially if she keeps making jokes about marzipan.

Ace, "Bargaining I"

Damn, Marc Blucas makes James Marsters look like a tiny, tiny man. After last week's showcase it's sad, but also amusing, to see Spike reduced to an elfin laundry-stalker.

Sep, "Shadow"

WARNING: Contents may have shifted during shipping. Oops, that's the wrong warning. The warning is this: This recap contains opinions.

Ace, "Tabula Rasa"

Evil Dead eh? I'm just going to take that as a shout-out to me and my Evil Dead t-shirt that I ordered out of the Fangoria (shut up) catalog twelve years ago and have been wearing consistently ever since. David Fury must have seen me in it or something. ... Buffy notices Ben sitting somewhere else and goes over to talk to him. Oh GREAT. You know how, whenever there's an outbreak of some sort of nasty infectious disease, during the news reports they often retrace the path of the virus on a map? Well, that's what my mind is doing with Ben right about now. First I only had to live in fear during the hospital scenes. But then he leached into the hospital parking lot. And now that he's just showing up at the Bronze all willy-nilly, he could just ooze on down the road anywhere his little slime trail will take him. Curses. Greasy Intern Ben is spreading. I wonder what his vector of infection is?

Sep, "Crush"

Tough Love - Or, "The Unedited Buffy You Never Wanted To See." Buffy routes paperwork. Buffy repairs an appliance. Buffy folds laundry. Buffy goes to a parent-teacher conference. Dawn does homework. Dawn does homework some more. Glory practices personal hygiene. The recapper props her eyelids open with spork tines. To spice things up a little, Giles goes all Ripper, Tara goes all Forrest Gump, and Willow goes all Fairuza Balk. The recapper falls asleep and drools on her cat.

Ace, "Tough Love" recaplet

Spike stumbles, bloody, bruised, and wild-eyed, down the hall to the elevator, and if I weren't a fan of this show and were just flipping by I might think it was a clip from a Behind the Music on Billy Idol.

Sep, "Intervention"

...Marci needs to find "the key." ...Darcy or Shannon or whatever her name is ...Sheila or Lisa or whoever

Sep describing Glory before her name was revealed, "Family"

...the guy, who I've decided to call Gee Dub McChoad for no reason whatsoever...

Sep describing Tara's brother, "Family"

Willow screams, 'Noooooooo,' and a rippling force shoots out of her mouth and zaps Osiris, who vanishes. Oh, the heartbreak of halitosis!

Ace, "Villains"

My roommate brought home a big pile of Marshmallow Peeps from a post-Easter sale. I took one look at them and screeched, "Peeps show!" before grabbing one, winging it into the microwave, and making "Bamp-chicka-bow-wow" noises while watching the Peep swell and undulate in the microwave. Try it. It's fun. Also, I have in my notes from the first airing of this episode, "Dawn no like monkey-brain marshmallows." I think I'll just leave that in. You'll either find it as amusing as I do or marvel at my illiteracy.

Sep, "Conversations With Dead People"

Willow incants more at the effigy (who looks like she's ready for a doctor to check her tonsils) and then sends green energy blobs shooting out of her breasts towards Santa's Phallus. It's a lesbian thing -- you wouldn't understand.

Ace, "Grave"

Cut to Xander chaining Spike up in the basement of Casa Summers. Dawn, Buffy, Wood, Giles, Willow, the UN Security council, three random passersby, and a small hedgehog are all in attendance. Okay, not really, but seriously. The number of people present for this is way unnecessary. Giles, Willow and Buffy will perform the spell. Xander, Dawn and Wood will distribute small snacks and throw Jujubes at Spike's head. ... Spike's mum tells him that he "needs a woman in [his] life." He replies that he does have a woman in his life. She is momentarily taken in, but then realizes that William has some really serious Oedipal issues. Victorian etiquette dictates that it would be in poor taste to mention this, so she pretends to be flattered. He promises to always look after her, but she has a coughing fit, hoping to die and escape her creepy son. Knowing that Spike's women-paragon obsession thing in which he defines himself and his moral center by the dominant female figure in his life started back when Spike was human, and has continued until the present day, really makes me realize how pathetic a creature he truly is. You'd think that after the first hundred years he might have self-actualized or something.

Sep, "Lies My Parents Told Me"

Let me amend that. It's a long, thick, snake-like demon with a head shaped just like a penis, that squeals at Buffy and then sprays liquid out of its mouth and onto her. Just think about that for a minute.

Ace, "Doublemeat Palace"

At the Pub the Chuckleheads are sitting around a table strewn with empty beer pitchers, randomly slapping and picking nits off of each other. One of them is trying to remove his shirt but gets his head stuck in it. I can sympathize with him. I've done that -- sober.

Sep, "Beer Bad"

Rack is creepy. Then about ten more anvils crash into my room, followed by a minor deluge of cow pies as we launch into a trippy-druggy sequence the likes of which has not been seen since The Trip and Psych-Out.

Ace, "Wrecked"

Willow is wearing what Ace called a poncho, but I think looks more like a tube with no armholes. If anyone remembers the commercial for the plastic device that enabled you to turn a crank and produce miles upon miles of useful and fashionable yarn tubing, well, it looks like that. Either that, or Willow took up knitting but hasn't figured out the secret to sleeves yet. Patrolling against vampires and other night-haunting demons with your arms bound to your sides by an acrylic strait-jacket doesn't seem like a wise move, but what do I know about fashion? Oh, that's right -- a lot more than Willow, obviously.

Sep, "Something Blue"

Suddenly, my TV screen fills up with a bunch of monkeys, all dressed up in platform sandals, cunning frocks, feather boas, and mascara. They form a menacing circle around Dawn. I think they're all guy monkeys, but y'know, it's a little hard to tell with the simians.

Ace, "Potential"

It's Cruella D'Will. Heh. That's why she flayed Warren last week. She's making a coat out of him. Man, how much cooler would this episode be if Willow pranced around singing, 'See my vest! See my vest! It was once Warren's chest!' ... This is a test of the Emergency Snorecast System. Everything operational.

Sep, "Two to Go"

Sunny Valley, Arizona Ace, a beautiful, brainy, and brilliant recapper for TWoP, that world-famous website and recipient of three Nobel Prizes for Internet Criticism, piloted her pink bubble-shaped hovercraft to the landing strip on the roof of her lux penthouse apartment. Slim and clad entirely in her everyday garb of form-fitting leather, she headed quickly to her Operations Control room, stopping only to scratch the chin of her almost-sentient leopard, Francesca. "Follow me, little one," Ace purred to her feline companion, "for tonight we view a new Buffy!" In Operations Control, Ace flung her shapely form onto the low designer sofa and thumbed the remote to her wall-sized liquid television. As the episode progressed, Francesca began to pace the room in agitation, for she had never before seen her merry human companion in such distress. Ace's perfectly manicured nails caressed her flawless face as she murmured, "How will I recap an episode so sorely lacking in plot? An episode that consists mostly of Andrew's fantasies and stolen videotaped vignettes of the Scooby gang? Without a narrative structure to follow, at what point should I mention the disturbing basement sex of the un-reunited Xander and Anya, or the empty and unsatisfying riot occurring at Sunnydale High?" Finally, Ace knelt, and attractively wept into the silken tawny fur of Francesca, "I face my greatest challenge ever! Just as the tears of repentant Andrew closed the Seal of Danzig in the school basement forever, so do my hot tears of rage seal my unrepentant loathing of this season!" Los Angeles, CA The evil genius Jane Espenson cackled evilly as she polished her six-inch chrome stilettos and flipped her shiny titian hair. Whirling menacingly in her secret headquarters beneath Reseda, she flipped open her tiny red Mobicom and hit speed-dial. Upon hearing a voice on the other end of the line, Jane leered and snapped out, "Hello, Joss? I think we've broken Ace already. The tears are the beginning of the end. That'll teach her to complain about Andrew's poor grasp on reality!"

Ace, "Storyteller" recaplet

The Knights are gonna get the Key, toniiiight! The Scoobies drive a big RV, toniiiight! This year, the minutes seemed like hours The arc progressed so slowly And still no end in siiiight!

Sep, "Spiral" recaplet

Xander gets snide about what a "simple" decision this must be for Buffy and then leaps up, snarling, "You know, if there's a mass-murdering demon that you're, oh, say, boning, then it's all gray area." Hee -- go Xander! I'm not really taking sides in this argument because I think both Buffy and Xander are both right and wrong here, but I really think it needed to be said that Buffy totally put aside all her Slayer standards in order ride Spike's man-pole, and she's never really admitted that to or faced it as far as I can tell. She's mumbled about how it was bad for her, but never seemed to realize what a betrayal of her calling it was. Buffy wins The Lame Comeback Of The Century Award when her only reply is that Spike is "harmless." Harmless except for the whole part where he could and did harm you, Buffy. Nice self-preservation instincts there, honey. Let's kill Anya because she could hurt men. Let's not kill Spike because he can only hurt Buffy. Uh, where was I?

Ace, "Selfless"

This whole Spike with Buffy thing? My fault. When Angel was on the show, I hated every second of him and his dazed "you can tell I have a soul because I look like I just walked into a tree" method of acting. (Angelus was a different story. A cooler story that didn't spend so much time whining and moping.) Then, when he left, it was like light pouring in through the heavens. I was excited. Happy. I had a new lease on life. I thought, "No matter what, Buffy's next boyfriend won't be so bad." Enter Riley. Riley with his potato nose, thinly-veiled chauvinism, and women issues. And so it was, until it came to pass that Riley endeth. And lo! Happiness reigned far and wide across the land (defined as my apartment), there was much rejoicing, and it was good. Again, I foolishly allowed myself to be confident that this had been the worst. Surely Buffy's next boyfriend...

Sep, "Two to Go"

ASH is really giving a killer performance here. I wonder how many takes it took for him to stop laughing. His singing sounds very soulful and I'm convinced it's his own voice, just very badly synched. Maybe the sound crew had to work overtime on all the Buffy/Riley moaning and ran out of time for the important things. Bad prioritization, guys. For a whole week following this episode, my poor cat is tortured by me following her around the house and bellowing, "No ooooone knows what it's liiiiike/Toooooo be the baaaad cat/Tooooo be the saaaad cat/Behind blue eeeeeyeees." I swear, one of these days she's going to lose her patience, pack her little kitty suitcase and leave. Well, at least I don't make her watch The Others with me anymore.

Ace, "Where the Wild Things Are"

Luke is chanting, "The Sleeper will wake and the world will bleed. Amen!" Because vampires are such religious creatures. Don't you remember that one heartwarming episode they had when they showed them all going to church? Sure, they wanted to eat the rest of the congregation, but as long as they're worshipping in Glen Oak with the Camdens I really don't have a problem with that.

Sep, "Welcome to the Hellmouth"

D'Hoffryn introduced himself, and Aud replies, "I am Aud." Hee. That's a funny pun. You know that saying that goes, "Puns are the lowest form of humor"? That always confused me. I mean, I wondered who decided that, and what the highest form of humor was, and why the phrase always seemed to be uttered only by the very humorless, who wouldn't seem qualified to judge. Anyway, this is 2002, and the saying is obviously obsolete. It comes from an older era. An era before the fart joke. Fart jokes are quite clearly the lowest form of humor, and I suggest that we petition the correct powers that be to have the saying updated for modern times. ["The lowest, and yet consistently the most reliable. Hee. Farts." -- Sars]

Ace, "Selfless"

Willow and Buffy walk up the steps to school, and Xander catches up with them. I'm sorry that I can't recap their conversation, but I'm sure you'll understand once I tell you about Xander's red and moldy green-gray sweater paired with brown and yellow plaid pants. As if that combination wasn't horrific enough on its own, Willow is wearing an orange and yellow striped fleece shirt. It's at times like this that I wish I were blind -- just like the wardrobe people.

Sep, "Passion"

Ace: "I don't know why Buffy was all surprised when Spike tried to kiss her. That's what you do at the end of a date and drinking, dinner, and pool all add up to a date." Sep: "It totally was a date. My last date ended exactly the same way. Someone threw a wad of cash at someone else, the words, 'You're beneath me' were uttered, and one of us was left crying alone in an alley." Ace: "You've got to be kidding me." Sep: "Actually I am. My last date ended with me threatening my beau with a spork."

Ace and Sep, "Fool for Love"

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