#i need to rewatch the cutscene…..

[1tsjusty0u]

could silent princesses go naturally extinct? or do plants only go extinct by human or animal interference? do they just need really specific growing conditions and thats why silent princesses are so rare? would they be common in a country outside of hyrule due to the geography of the theoretical country? i refuse to believe cultivating silent princesses is impossible

[becca4leafclover]

do you think about how Truthless Recluse maybe knew what he had to do with the Soul Jam for longer than he indicated in B-Y Chapter 8, but was hesitant (terrified) to do it because that was the same action that ended the Dark Flour War?

That utterly destroyed his kingdom.

That shattered the Soul Jams and weakened their wielders.

That gave Dark Enchantress the ability to chase after the fragments of Light to give her a fighting chance after all.

That irreversibly harmed all his friends.

That locked him in a void with nothing but his guilt (or Shadow Milk) for an age.

But he worked up the courage to do it anyway, because once again it seemed like the only option. That the Soul Jam was the cause of all this conflict and strife, and if it couldn't be in Shadow Milk's hands- it certainly couldn't be in Pure Vanilla's again. No one should have it, no one should be able to have that much power over what the Universe does and does not know.

He probably thought destroying the Soul Jam would kill him for real this time. He was willing to make that sacrifice again.

That looking back, the difference between Pure Vanilla Awakening and everyone in the Spire crumbling was maybe nothing more than which way the power of the Soul Jam of Truth/Deceit/Knowledge went when released. It worked out but... what was his decision, what was fate, and what was just pure luck?

[killjpeg]

[cloudinal]

Ca n anyone. Can anyone hear me

[wildstar25]

While it goes fairly similarly to how it would in game, there's a lot of backstory related nuance that kinda shifts the entire vibe of their reunion... this is fairly long so im putting it under a read more

When the Exarch told Arsay her next destination would have her hopefully meeting with Y'shtola, Arsay was beyond excited. After the twins, Y'shtola was the next person on Arsay's list that she really, really wanted to see. She rode that enthusiasm through the entire trip into the Great Woods. Not even Emet-Selch's pompous attitude and unwanted presence could cut through Arsay's cheer. Which was likely for the best, had she not have her best friend to look forward to she'd likely have wanted to rip the ascians head off rather than entertain conversation with him.

They found themselves surrounded. Arsay's humour was NOT appreciated by Thancred 🙄. Emet made a show about leaving them to their fate. And then she heard it, the voice Arsay had been wanting to hear all day, though called by a name not her own.

It took a moment for Arsay to process it all: The new look, the fact that all these people seemed to be at her command, her intense hostility... Still, it was Y'shtola! Y'shtola through and through! Arsay's heart nearly jumped into her throat once her brain caught up to her other senses.

(I love how from far away the pixels make it look like Arsay had a big open mouth smile. She was so excited to see her friend! Were she not at multiple arrow/magic staff point she'd be running up to give Y'shtola a hug.)

Arsay thought perhaps this was a prank? A little unlike Y'shtola but then again she did have a darker sense of humour. Plus Y'shtola knows Arsay likes a good gag now and again so maybe...? But sadly Y'shtola again seriously insisted they were sin eaters so that couldn't be the case. Arsay was at a lost for words- a rarity for her.

The mere suggestion that Y'shtola could have forgotten Arsay... her heart deflated like a balloon, all the joy it once held rushed out in an instance. Personally I think Urianger was covering his ass here trying to mask his knowledge of the light corruption. Still there was no way he knew just how devastating his words were to Arsay.

No, Urianger couldn't have known that Arsay had spent much of her life believing herself to have been forgotten by her parents as they left her in the south seas for greater adventures. That they wrote her but a single missive, where in which they promised to write more. He couldn't have know how, when no other letter arrived for her, she took it as a sign of being unwanted; not worth keeping their word for. He wouldn't have known much of what Arsay does, she does in hopes to touch the life of another in such a way that they might dare think of her from time to time, even if only in passing. Urianger wouldn't have a single clue how a simple notion spoken in whisper could send Arsay down an immediate spiral.

Arsay stares at Y'shtola, hands held firm in the air, praying for Urianger to be proven wrong.

Once before has Arsay's soul been knocked clean of her body, and had it not been for the absence of said body in her immediate vision she would have sworn it had happened again. She felt numb. Any other word spoken after "The one I know not." was static to her. There was no rational thought happening behind those wide eyes. Not even a slim chance that Arsay could be considering that something was perhaps wrong with her. All she could think about was the immense and sudden heartbreak she was actively experiencing.

Meanwhile, Y'shtola struggled to come to terms with what she was hearing versus what she was seeing. Before her was a figure so immense of light aether, how could Urianger words possibly be true? She knew Arsay's aether. Such brilliance was not something she'd readily forget. In fact, she'd go as far as to say it's image plagued her mind despite her best wishes along with equally inconvenient and unsavoury thoughts. Y'shtola had been awaiting the day Arsay's aether came into view once more for gods know how long. Yet he insists that this unknown figure before her is that very same person; that this was her Warrior of Light. As much as she did not want to accept it what other rational explanation could there even be?

Y'shtola stood aback, her harsh tone wavered as she stammered in disbelief. Again she scrutinized the strange light infused aether. Though she could discern that it vaguely held the form of a person any potential detail was obscured by an intense glow that radiated from it's core. She supposed perhaps she could picture her memory of Arsay slotting into the blurry silhouette... oh by the twelve. A chill runs down her spine. Y'shtola has never been one to panic, yet if this is truly Arsay before her then that can only mean terrible, terrible things.

With the initial shock worn off things begun to come back into focus for Arsay including Y'shtola who's gaze was fixated on her, clamouring for answers. As if on cue her voice returned to her. Despite this not being the reunion Arsay had imagined, out came the words she would have said regardless.

Not a hint of resentment carried through her tone. If anything, she sounded as if she was amused by the situation. As much as it hurt to think that the person Arsay considered to be her best friend had forgotten the appearance of her aether (something she understood as being unique to her); Arsay couldn't help but feel like she should have anticipated it. Sure, it had only been a month for Arsay, but it was three years for Y'shtola. That's quite some time to be apart. More than enough for Arsay to no longer be relevant enough to be recalled from time to time in Y'shtola's daily life. The irony of it stung. Arsay had only just begun to believe she wasn't as forgettable, as insignificant, to others as she feared... Funny how things turn out. She felt foolish to have overestimated the depth of their friendship. Guilty too for burdening someone she cared for with her own lofty expectations. Arsay only had herself to blame for this outcome. One would think she'd learn her lesson by now. What a laugh. Compelled by this joke only she was privy to, a short chuckle escaped from her lonesome smile.

The familiar voice rang through her ears and stirred her heart. There was no denying it. Her friend was finally here ...And Y'shtola welcomed her with an ambush. Delightful. She breathed out a heavy sigh. This was not at all how Y'shtola had wanted their meeting to go but she'd not let herself be vexed by such things. She pushed the tinge of dissatisfaction to the back of her mind. Arsay of all people would understand the things one must do to protect others. This greeting would be water under the bridge to her in but a tic. What mattered most is that the Night's Blessed were no longer under any (immediate) perceived threat. Her dear friend's aether on the other hand... Her head began to swirl with questions. Questions surely the Warrior of Darkness could soon help her attain the answers for. The thought alone brought it's own sense of relief. A smile tugged at the corners of Y'shtola's lips. There was no denying how happy it made her knowing her wait was over.

The tension in the air settled along the fur on Arsay's tail. She gave Y'shtola nod of acceptance, mindlessly forgiving her when in truth the apology felt hollow to Arsay. It wasn't at all what she wanted to hear but it wasn't as if hearing anything else from Y'shtola would help ease her nerves. It is what it is. At the very least, she was happy that Y'shtola looked to be in good health. Best focus on that for now.

--

Arsay and the rest followed Y'shtola from a distance quietly through the woods. Even through the canopy strong light polluted the forest floor. It gave Arsay a headache, much like everywhere else she had been to on the First. She often relied on her headband to block out the worst of the sun's rays back home but it did nothing to defend her light soaking eyes from the ambient brightness. She had been getting used to it but for some completely and totally unknown reason it began to feel worse.

Now and again Arsay would spot Y'shtola looking back over her shoulder towards her. Each glance had Arsay suddenly anticipating, hoping, that Y'shtola was about to call her over, and when that did not happen it made Arsay like a fool all over again. Foolish, and then frustrated. A degree of frustration that could be easily alleviated were she allowed to wander off and drive her knives into whatever foul beast first crossed her path. Alas, Arsay had to stay with the pack and sit with her growing bad mood she was not supposed to have. Her cheeks began to feel weary from the smile she kept plastered on her face.

~

Y'shtola guided the scions along the path to Slitherbough at a steady pace. Though she maintained a lead on them by no means was she walking fast enough that Arsay couldn't catch up should she want to do so. That's what Y'shtola had come to expect from Arsay; if the opportunity presented itself, Arsay would not hesitate to encroach on Y'shtola's personal space. It was a habit Y'shtola was not all that fond of initially- it was overwhelming for someone who more often kept to herself- but in due time Y'shtola found herself yearning for Arsay's touch. A terrible yearning which only grew stronger in its absence. Though she tried with all her might not to, Y'shtola would quickly glance back at the group only to be disappointed that the insufferably bright glow of aether was just as far from her as it way before. For Arsay to be so unlike herself... perhaps it was not only her aether which has been afflicted. The thought gave Y'shtola pause, the roots of worry began to sprout within her.

She also had to admit there was the slim chance that being held at weapon point and accused of being a sin eater had upset Arsay. But, It could have been worse. At least Y'shtola didn't frame her for regicide. Y'shtola's brow furrowed. There was no way Arsay could actually be mad at her. Y'shtola has given her colder shoulders than that in the past and Arsay had brushed it off without issue. It had to be something else.

--

Be it her worry for Arsay or due to her general dismay of the earlier happenings that she could not seem to shake, Y'shtola was no longer in the mood to let sleeping dogs lie and Thancred had made the unfortunate decision of opening his mouth. She'd not been a fan of how he had been conducting himself to say the least. Nor was she willing to let his inability to move on rob a young girl of her autonomy. Tongue as sharp as ever, Y'shtola made her opinion clear and sent the man running with his tail between his legs. Minfillia too sulked out not long after.

~

Arsay, bearing witness to this, felt just awful for Minifilla (as she called her). The smile she had held onto dropped the instant she heard the cave doors close. While Arsay is usually in favour of Y'shtola's tenancy to speak her mind so openly, all the aggravation that had been stewing inside her had now suddenly come to a boil. She had to lash out. She wanted to be mad at Y'shtola, for anything, because Arsay still felt deep down like it wasn't right to hold her responsible for the thing she was actually upset about.

"Really, Y'shtola? You had to bring that up just now?" Arsay crossed her arms, unimpressed. "You're the last I'd consider to come to Thancred's defence." Y'shtola's eyes narrowed, "I am not indifferent to Thancred's troubles. Nevertheless, I will not apologize for holding him to a higher standard after all these years. He has ever been a man of considerable resolve, and that is what I will continue to expect." "Then I best warn you: expectations only lead to future disappointment." The accusatory tone in Arsay's voice made Y'shtola tail twitch. "Excuse me? Arsay, what has come over you? You've not at all been yourself. Pray tell, have you felt any considerable changes since defeating the light-" "Perhaps, Y'shtola, you should be more concerned with how you have changed." Arsay cuts her off with a hiss.

Silence. You could the tension in the air with a knife. Arsay turns on her heels, "I-." she stops herself when she heard the crack in her voice. With a click of her tongue she flees out through the cave doors as fast as she could.

Urianger, who had been a fly on the wall for their heated back and forth, clears his throat. "Should thine wish be to give chase, thou can entrust in me the beginning duty of reviewing the tablet." Y'shtola let out a sigh. "I realize I am not as I was on the Source, but I cannot say I regret the decisions that allowed me to come this far." She proclaims largely for her own sake before turning to Urianger. "Allow me a moment to settle this. I shall return shortly."

--

All of that finally leads into this scene which actually the first time I ever tried to pose and write a story type scene. So excuse the slight jank of it (and the fact that Arsay's character voice has absolutely shifted some since then. Also ignore the fact that Arsay is wearing the darklight bracers in that old pose. It was taken at a point before I was using mods and I was still figuring out Arsay's shadowbringer glam- they were a hold over from previous expansion's glams)

the director commentary for their make up is Y'shtola finally accepts that Arsay is mad at her but is still defending her actions because it was the right call at the time. Again she tries to explain that Arsay's aether is fucked up in a way only to be cut off by Arsay airing out one of her deepest insecurities- her begging for validation. It's only then that Y'shtola realizes what exactly Arsay is upset over- and that her friend had absolutely 0 clue as to the light corrupting her aether. In a moment of absolute kindness from Y'shtola: instead of explaining then and there of Arsay's suspected light poisoning, she tells Arsay exactly what she wants and needs to hear. (And its this act of kindness that later becomes the catalys for Arsay realizing how much she loves Y'shtola upon learning about the light corruption and putting two and two together that Y'shtola was way nicer to her then she could have been in that moment.)

This is like maybe the 1st time Arsay has a public-ish breakdown and it really is "out of character" for her. But I cannot stress enough how much this shit triggered her and how bad she is at handling negative emotions. Like she really has a problem of not letting herself feel bad about anything and all that pent up stress gets funnelled directly into fighting. Its super cool and normal if you think about it and totally healthy if you ask her. When she cant channel that rage through her knives it escapes other, less productive ways. She did immediately felt awful about snapping at Y'shtola. Even if she wanted to be mad at her it wasn't right and Arsay knew this. Literally hearing that Y'shtola cared about her and thought of her was all she needed to put herself back into order. Y'shtola, still worried about Arsay's aether, was more than willing to move past this awful reunion of theirs and continue on just as they had been back before she was sent to the first.

And from there everything is pretty much normal! They made up, Arsay caught up to Minifillia and Runar, Y'shtola went to work on the tablet, story stuff happens, Arsay has her oh moment, they get together and so on.

Thank you so much @darkmadorz for giving me the excuse to write about this!

[hanafubukki]

Metaphor really out here making me question if a soul born out of your wishes, truly you? Or an ideal version that you wished were you?? Yes, born out of a part of you/your soul but is it you??

If that person were to take your place…is it you at all?

And what about them? Is everything they are doing because of you? The person they came from? Or their own wants? 🧐🤔

What about their identity?!

[stellamancer]

STORY SKIP IN HSR!! YES!! my NA account can LIVE!!!!

[quibbs126]

You know with the new update being Dark Cacao Kingdom centered, I’ve seen people write posts talking about the relationship between Dark Cacao and Dark Choco, and I realize something

Namely that I’ve gone so long without having seen the actual cutscenes they feature in, and so I think as a result my brain plays a game of mental telephone to the point where I’ve constructed a different version of the characters in my head that isn’t really the canon version. Not so much in any wild sense, they aren’t unrecognizable, but they are markedly different. This is mostly just the case with Dark Choco, since I’ve seen cutscenes with Dark Cacao much more recently, but this does also extend to the relationship between them. And this most likely extends to other characters, but I’m just using my examples for now

I probably need to rewatch cutscenes on a more regular basis. Especially with the main story, since other than the Golden Cheese and City of Wizards stories, it’s been well over a year since I’ve seen any of them

[redadm1ral]

WAIT HOLD ON JOURNAL POST PAUSED MOMENTARILY I'M TRYING TO FIND EXACTLY WHAT SOAP AND PRICE WERE CHARGED WITH AND

IMPALEMENT?!?!

[javierduffy]

ohh javieran … javieran post kieran’s death .., javier is a poor lonesome cowboy in america a long way from home with no more sweetheart to sit and talk with him ooohhh can anyone hear me ….

[beevean]

🌹 ^-^

One night like any other, under the protection of the full moon, Julia kept her ritual of wandering around the mountains, in search of the few plants that hadn’t withered from the dry earth. And then, she heard an unknown voice, in a labored breath:

“It can’t be... That’s impossible... She can’t be alive...”

From her crouch, Julia looked up, and her surprised gaze met her mirror in a man.

She had never seen him in her life, of that she could be certain. She wouldn’t have forgotten such bright silver hair, glistening in the moonlight as if sunshine reflected from it. Let alone such bizarre garments, that included a cuirass in the shape of bat wings and a long, red sash with a black ribbon tied around it. And yet, something emanating from the man, a cold energy that made the hairs on her arms rise, felt uncomfortably familiar. He, too, gawked at her like he knew her, like he wanted to peer deep down inside her; the scrutiny didn’t help her disquiet, so she chose to break the spell between them.

“Oh,” she rose to her feet to meet the stranger. “May I be of service?”

She ruled out the possibility that he was a vampire. No creature of the night would stand there for that long, with abject terror painted all over his face. What did Julia do to this man?

“Uh, no,” he stammered, sheepish, approaching her with a gloved hand on his heart. She was hit by the softness of his voice, wedged between the politeness of an aristocrat and the melancholy of a hurting man; it only intrigued her further. “F-forgive me. My name is Hector. What are you doing in a place like this?”

~

this has nothing to do with the writing, but I want you to imagine that Julia saw this absolutely shaped man being courteous to her

basically no wonder she just invites him home

[hibernating-stag]

Good morning I'm up thinking about that forbidden beast again

[uldahstreetrat]

cooking on some Ophianne lore this morning. think she should be more fucked up for being from the 13th actually.

[reds-skull]

Revenant Side Stories

Story V: Dr. Novikov

[Konchar] [Graves] [Gaz] [Price] [AO3]

Okay, I know I said Farah will be before this one, but I was feeling down this week and went "y'know what would make me feel better? Writing 3k words of what is basically glorified lore dump"

And it did make me feel a little better so here you go lol

His hurried footsteps echo in the empty hallway, papers almost falling out of his sweaty hands. It took countless days and nights to study the reports, countless more to decipher what they mean. Stanislav has never been more anxious for a meeting.

He has never been more excited.

Being assigned as head Spiritulogist of the SAS regiment was his greatest achievement, one he believed will be his biggest in his lifetime. These recent developments, however…

Stanislav refocuses on the door in front of him before his thoughts escape him once more. He pushes on the handle, entering the meeting room.

“Doctor Novikov, it is good to see you finally join us.”

Stanislav nods meekly at General Woods, “I apologize for being late, sir.” He drops the heavy stack of papers on the large table at the center of the room, adjusting the glasses on his nose bridge. A quick glance at his surroundings informs him that along with the General, several more high ranking officers were invited, along with CIA agent Kate Laswell, currently watching him from a video call.

The General lets out a breath, “no matter. I’m sure we’re all aware of the reason this meeting was called, but will you recap it for us, Doctor?”

“Of course.” Stanislav temps down an eager smile. He moves to the laptop controlling the projector, inserting his USB drive and opening four Revenant Personal Data Files.

“For those who are unfamiliar with my work, I am Doctor Stanislav Novikov, Spiritulogist consultant for the British Army, specialized in first class Reapers.”

He drags two of the files to the projector, “revenants of first class Reapers are of the rarest variety, and so my qualifications don’t apply to most currently serving in our ranks. It is for this reason I have been personally assigned to Taskforce 141.”

Stanislav motions to the first name on screen, “this is Sergeant John MacTavish, revenant of Destruction. As listed here, his abilities include explosion creation and immunity. Next is-”

“There’s another line here, redacted.” a man he’s unfamiliar with interjects, “why is that?”

Stanislav’s mouth clicks shut, before he continues. “Sergeant MacTavish’s Reaping has been redacted, and none of the people in this room have clearance to view that information.”

The man scoffs and shakes his head, muttering under his breath, “ridiculous…”

“Doctor, you may continue.” General Woods prompts.

He nods, moving the pointer to the other file, “this is Lieutenant Ghost, revenant of the Void. I am sure he needs no introductions, Limbo has been a subject of many of our previous meetings. That is not why we are here today.”

The files disappear from the screen, a set of mission reports replacing them, “a few weeks ago, I have received the reports from Taskforce’s 141 most recent mission, which will be referred to as the incident of Las Almas from here on.”

Agent Laswell shifts in her sit, leaning closer to the camera.

“I have read the reports. Initially, I believed them to be false, because what they described was, well… quite clearly impossible, according to all known Reaper laws.”

Stanislav couldn’t stop a small smile from pulling on his lips. That day, one that started like any other, ended up being one he’ll never forget. He didn’t sleep all night, reading the reports again and again, enough that he can still recite them from memory.

He clears his throat, motioning towards the first marked section, “according to Sergeant MacTavish and Lieutenant Ghost, following a situation where the Lieutenant was forced to use Limbo in MacTavish’s vicinity, their powers changed.”

Images of a revenant training field, from the Los Vaqueros base, cover the reports, “the photo in front of you was taken after the Lieutenant used Limbo for the first time after that ‘change’. Those black trails were pointing towards MacTavish, because, from Ghost’s brief explanation, the victims of Limbo were able to see the Sergeant.”

General Woods’ eyes narrow, “but that’s…”

“Impossible.” he confirms, “this, it appears, was only the beginning.”

Stanislav returns to the reports, “I unfortunately do not have clearance to know the exact details of the following events, but the Sergeant entered Limbo a second time. During that time, unlike the initial incident, MacTavish came into contact with the victims of Limbo. This…”

The projector switches to a photo of an arm, black marks wrapping around it. Fingerprints, MacTavish wrote. Stanislav had theories they were possibly markings of the Reaper of the Void, but seeing as the only revenant that belongs to it doesn’t have them, there is no possible way to confirm that.

“This was the result. Lieutenant Ghost is also recorded to have been ‘marked’, by white trails on his face. Additionally to those, the revenants’ powers were modified, with MacTavish’s fire changing colors to white in his left hand, and Ghost able to withstand fire in his right.”

He lets the weight of his words sink in. Major Clifford, a man responsible for a few, albeit of a lower class, revenant soldiers, asks, “so the two revenants swapped powers?”

“In layman’s terms… yes.”

The Major frowns, deep grooves etching into his skin. General Woods’ expression borders on stunned, but he motions for Stanislav to elaborate.

His hands start shaking unexpectedly, because what he’s about to say, what he’s about to voice for the first time since his discovery, practically discredits everything they ever knew about revenants and Reapers.

“The last change reported by the revenants during the Las Almas Incident, has occurred a few days before the report was sent to me. MacTavish and Ghost have claimed the Reaper of Destruction and the Reaper of the Void are no longer.” Stanislav adjusts his glasses again, nerves and adrenaline flowing freely through him, “their Reapers have merged, and have called themselves… Lumity.”

The room is quiet. For only a few moments.

“Merged?!” “That’s not- what about the other revenants of Destruction-?” “What the fuck did they do-?!”

“Gentlemen! I’m sure we have a lot of questions, but we will get no answers if we keep bickering among ourselves. Let the expert talk.” Laswell’s voice booms over the cacophony that erupted, silencing the bewildered men.

Stanislav nods in gratitude, “thank you, Miss Laswell. I understand the confusion, me and my colleagues have been working overtime trying to decipher this.”

“And? What have you found?”

“Not much.” he doesn’t pay mind to the displeased faces around him, “as you’ve said before, General Woods, these events seem to be impossible. Revenants’ powers do not change, Reapers do not change, and most certainly not to the extent described by the Sergeant and Lieutenant.”

“Do you know what could’ve caused this?” Laswell inquires.

Stanislav shakes his head jerkily, “I’ve investigated previous Reaper-revenant interactions, as well as our known models of Reaper Hierarchies, which are in simpler words Reaper-Reaper relationships, and not once, in any observation we have recorded as humans, have revenants been able to influence Reapers.”

Reaper-revenant relationships are often told to be ones of pawns and kings, though in Stanislav’s humble opinion, even that comparison doesn’t encapsulate the depth of those interactions. Humans, and revenants to a lesser extent, are nothing but ants for entities of an interdimensional scale. Since the founding of the Spiritulogy field, basic rules have been established.

Revenants cannot affect Reapers. Reapers are far, far more powerful than can be perceived by the human mind.

Reapers are eternal. They do not die, and it is extremely unlikely the human race have, or will, witness the birthing of a new Reaper in the time of their existence.

That last point has been debated, since the emergence of the revenant of the Void, but most experts, Stanislav included, believe Void was birthed (or the equivalent process of coming into existence for Reapers) millions of earth years ago.

So how come an ant raised and affected its master?

Stanislav’s eyes meet Miss Laswell’s, “do you understand the magnitude of this incident? This changes everything we know about revenants and Reapers.”

General Woods sighs, and removes his cap to scrub at his hair, “what this is, is a goddamn shitshow… what do you suggest we do with them, Doctor?”

“If it were in my hands, I would’ve chosen to examine them more closely, attempt to recreate the conditions that triggered these changes in the first place. If, perhaps, this new type of revenant-”

“What do you mean, new type of revenant?” the Major exclaims.

“Well,” he turns to face Major Clifford, “even calling them revenants would be technically wrong. Revenants are defined as being humans who, after dying, have met the entities we call Reapers, and are irreversibly altered by those Reapers, often gaining powers and markings that stay consistent through their entire life, until a few moments before their Final Death, where their Reaper will retract the ‘deal’ that granted them those powers. In reality, the Sergeant and Lieutenant are now a completely separate entity compared to a typical revenant-”

“Doctor Novikov, while I’m sure we all find this very interesting, I’d like you to stay on topic, please.”

“Ah- of course, my apologies, General.” Stanislav lets out a small, nervous laugh, “I understand you are not operating with a scientific standpoint in mind. From a… tactical standpoint, I recommend separating the two revenants until my associates and I can determine whether this new relationship is stable. Preventing more changes is the key here.”

“What do you need to be able to determine that?” Miss Laswell asks.

“I’d like to redo their revenant tests. We do not have methods to deal with these sorts of incidents, so I will treat them as newly Reaped.” They will need to rewrite their files, log the new Reaper into the system, along with the markings and powers that are attributed to it… tedious, but necessary processes. More than ever, Stanislav needs them, if only to cling onto a false sense of control.

The revenant tests are, in all cases but this one, a series of challenges of increasing difficulty, meant to find the limit of one's powers as soon as they recover from their Reaping. The majority of common, third class Reapers have standardized tests, but within Stanislav’s field he has had to build custom tests more than once.

Tests like these allowed revenants like Captain Price to discover the dependencies of his abilities on emotional connections, allowed Spiritulogists to record abilities with greater accuracy than ever before.

He’s been barred from examining a revenant only once - and it was none other than Sergeant MacTavish. As his file states, his powers are simply too dangerous to test. Stanislav may be only a scientist, but he’s been under military rules long enough to know when red tape starts entering his field of work. It frustrated him to no end when he was younger, but he has come to accept it.

“We will arrange for you and your team to be transported to the 141’s current base, Doctor. Do you need anything else?” General Woods asks.

Stanislav considers it for a moment, “I’d like access to the Verdansk Incident.”

Woods’ brows shoot up, “Doctor, you know I can’t grant you that.”

Stanislav sighs, turning around to pace around the room. “I understand the SAS’s needs to keep certain events classified, but if you want me to decipher the meaning of Lumity, I must have the full picture, of both revenants.”

Everyone in this room knows what makes Ghost exceptional among revenants, but the Sergeant is (or… was) a typical revenant of Destruction, albeit uniquely strong, on the surface.

“I can theorize for weeks how Lumity came to be, General, but if I don’t have the entire timeline of one half of it, those theories will stay just that-”

General Woods shakes his head, “we have regulations, if this incident falls into wrong hands, especially now-”

“I don’t need to know anything beyond the information pertaining to MacTavish’s Reaping, sir-”

“Doctor Novikov, that’s enough!” the General slams a fist onto the table, “you will not be granted access to the Verdansk Incident, and that is final!”

Stanislav exhales slowly, gaze glued to the General’s furious eyes, “...yes sir.”

Miss Laswell clears her throat, easing the tension in the room, “shall we move onto the second topic of this meeting, General?”

Woods blinks, leaning back in his chair, “yes.” He drags out a folder, and throws it on the large table. It slides a little, landing in front of Stanislav’s curious eyes. “What can you tell us about the Revenant of Fate, Doctor?”

His eyes flit between the General and the folder, hands hesitating as he flips it open. The face that greets him is not unfamiliar, Stanislav wrote this file himself after all.

“All I know about Vladimir Makarov is in this folder, sir.” he stares at the censored sections with distaste, “his Reaper is almost as mysterious as Void, it didn’t Reap revenants for over five hundred years before Makarov.” the mental image of the Reaper hierarchy model floats in his mind. “It didn’t need to - as what we categorize as the Reaper above all Reapers, the apex predator.”

“Does Fate have any relation to Void and Destruction?” Miss Laswell asks, expression serious.

“Yes and no.” Stanislav mentally tracks down the list, models Spiritulogists have worked over for decades, “Destruction belonged to a group of Reapers who we know to be older than the most. Those Reapers often work outside the hierarchy, as they were conceived before Fate enforced it. Void, on the other hand, as the newest Reaper to interact with humanity, has yet to prove its capabilities and be placed in the hierarchy. According to Ghost, it adhered to Fate regardless.”

None of this matters anymore, of course, as Destruction and Void have ceased to exist.

Major Clifford snorts, and rolls his eyes condescendingly, “what do we care which Reaper listens to which? I respect your research, Novikov, don’t get me wrong, but we requested intel on the revenant.”

Stanislav frowns. How can a Major be so ignorant of Reaper-revenant relationships? “I… I assume you are aware that Reapers are able to communicate with their revenants, correct?”

“Yes.” the Major huffs, a smirk on his lips.

“Then I believe you are able to deduce that a Reaper aligned with Fate could, hypothetically, command its revenant to submit to the revenant of Fate, regardless of their affiliation as humans?”

The smile falls from the Major’s face, “...are you implying our revenants, in the SAS, will betray their country for- for a bloody Reaper??”

“No.” Stanislav narrows his eyes, “I am telling you, sir, that Reapers do not care for human borders, they do not care for our conflicts, only their own. I am not warning you of deserters, I am warning you of interdimensional beings with the power to bring people back from the dead and grant them powers that biologically should be impossible for humans to have. Beings that are potentially on the cusp of conflict, that will drag revenants into it with no regard to their wants.”

Stanislav steps closer, hands gesturing to emphasise the weight of his words, “me and you, Major, as humans, will never be able to fully understand why Reapers do what they do. But this is what Spiritulogy is about - understanding what is beyond comprehension. And I do not like to brag, but as the head Spiritulogist of the SAS, and a man with almost three decades of experience in the field, I want to believe I have a better grasp of what certain signs mean.”

He stands in front of the Major, breath short and heavy, not with anger, but with a mixture of terror and delight, “Lumity is a sign of a change in Reaper-revenant interactions. No longer is this relationship a one-way street.”

Stanislav leans in, watching as finally, the Major understands what they’re facing, “none of us know how the Reapers will react to this. Their reaction can range from a slap on the wrist of Lumity, to the annihilation of the human race.”

“T-they-” the Major swallows nervously, “they wouldn’t just- destroy us like that… They don’t have the right-”

“Major, we both know this as humans” Stanislav straightens his back, readjusting his large, round glasses, “with enough power, rights do not matter.”

Revenants and humanity, out of innate, animalistic terror, have always followed Reapers’ commands. None has ever been strong enough to stand up and disobey.

The same can be said for Reapers, and Fate. Countless times, Stanislav has received reports of fearful revenants, telling him of terrible events foreseen by their Reapers. Reapers know when and how each of them will die. They can try and delay it, take one of the few other paths presented before them. You cannot surprise an entity with that kind of sense.

Both of these statements are false, now.

“T-thank you for your time, Doctor Novikov.” General Woods says shakily, “we will be in contact in the future. For now, you are all dismissed.”

While the rest of the men filtered out of the room, Stanislav collected his papers and files, deep in thought. A voice behind him brought him back to the present.

“Doctor Novikov.” Miss Laswell called, the room empty beside himself, “I’d like to have a word, if you have time.”

Stanislav taps the edges of the papers to line them up, and drops the neat stack beside him, “of course, what can I do for you, Miss Laswell?”

The CIA agent gives him a nod, “I believe we can do something for each other.”

He tilts his head inquisitively, and to his surprise, Laswell begins speaking in Russian, “you said you would need access to the Verdansk Incident to solidify your theories on the new Reaper, correct?”

Stanislav blinks rapidly, responding in his mother tongue as well, “ah, yes, but the General said…” his voice fades at Laswell’s expression.

“My work with the 141 often lands us outside the boundaries of red tape, Doctor. This current situation is no different, in my eyes.”

“You…”

“I have an offer.” Stanislav can hear Laswell’s keyboard clicking, “all I need is your word, that this will not leave the room.”

Stanislav feels a smile slowly spread on his lips. He may have accepted red tape as part of his job, but he would be a fool to miss an opportunity to cross it.

His research is more important than a few regulations. For the fate of humanity, of revenant kind.

“You have my promise, Miss Laswell.”

[neurotypical-sonic]

If you're talking about Silver and Shadow parallels, how about Mephiles not being able to sway Shadow at all because of his experiences, while being easily able to trick Silver because of what he went through?

[bluerasbunny]

what the fuck just happened