#rift looks scary but hes just looking at whatever that guy is working on on his space mac </3

[mandoposting]

☕️ what do they order at starbucks? For any and all of your OCs (or for Aran if you only want to choose one)

so i may have um. gone overboard with this :')

oc ask meme but it's utter chaos

Taglist: @ct-9904, @xviii-themoon, @twisted-falcon @findhimfives, @the-dreamy-space, @fake-fullbuster, @parkotedarasuum, @beckettsmeckett, @icanbringyouincold, @limeyartspinningtales, @persaloodles, @dilfyoda, @1-or-a-0 dm/send me an ask if you'd like to be added/removed :)

she is not getting paid enough for this

[sky-scribbles]

Party banter with Inquisitor Essek

(Because this ridiculous crossover has taken over my life. A brief explanation, as much as explanation is possible: a mis-cast spell has yote a post-campaign Essek through a planar rift and into Thedas, and he happened to land in the Temple of Sacred Ashes. These banters go up to the destruction of Haven, which is why Cole isn’t here - but he will be in later instalments!)

Cassandra: Leliana has found no information about you. Not a thing. Essek: Considering that most mages are met with disgust and imprisonment, it would be... imprudent of me to advertise my presence. Cassandra: Living in secrecy is one thing. Leaving no mark on the world at all is another. Essek: And you would prefer, I think, for all my secrets to be at your disposal.  Cassandra: Are you surprised that I suspect you have something to hide? Essek: Is hostile intent the only possible reason for secrecy, Seeker?

Solas: It would appear that your mark is affecting you physically, Herald. Essek: My hand was not green before, no. Solas: Aside from the obvious. While I tended to you after the conclave, you did not always seem to be asleep. At times, you lapsed into true unconsciousness. At other times, you seemed to trance, half-sleeping. Essek: Ah. Yes. I suppose... the connection to the Fade has altered the way I sleep. I find I can enter these trances at will, as a substitute for sleep. Solas: That is fascinating. The ancient elves could enter an endless dream called uthenera. Perhaps this is a related phenomenon. Essek: So one would assume.

Essek: So, Sera. I was going through  my research notes - Sera: [Sniggering] Essek: And I found that they had been expertly illustrated. Sera: That's what your weird rifty timey magic shite needs. All the butts. Essek: They certainly add interest. Although... that drawing of me closing a rift full of demon butts? You should have shaped my cloak so that it looked like a dick. Sera: [laughs] Like a dick! You're all right, Herald Weirdyhand. Essek: And you are quite the jester.

Varric: How is it you can just walk around pitch-black caves without a problem? Don’t tell me you're part-dwarf and it's stone-sense. Essek: Ah, no. I would assume it is yet another change from the mark. Varric: So this thing lets you fix the sky, and it's a free torch? Who knew that being Andraste's chosen came with a multi-purpose toolkit? Essek: There is no evidence for my being chosen by anything other than political convenience.  Varric: You’re not crazy about the whole Herald business, are you? Essek: About people deciding that I am the mouthpiece of an unproven god who does not speak to anyone, and yet whose name and teachings people use as an excuse for war and conquest, without investigating the truth behind those teachings? No. I am not.

Blackwall: So what does an apostate do, if he's on his own for... I don't know, how many years? Essek: Arcane research, mostly. Why, what does a Grey Warden do when he's on his own for however many years? Blackwall: Kill darkspawn. Recruit for the Wardens. Kill more darkspawn. Essek: And your fellow Wardens do not accompany you? Blackwall: You don't need more than one person to say 'how do you feel about fighting darkspawn for the rest of your life?' Essek: Did you... ever find yourself becoming lonely, in your solitude? Blackwall: I... sometimes, I suppose. Never gave much thought to it. Easier that way. Essek: Mm. I know the feeling.

Dorian: So you think Alexius’s perception of time was fundamentally flawed? Essek: I do. Time is not a straight line, through which one can jump ahead, skip back and rub bits out. Dorian: How would you have done it differently? Aside from the whole ‘conjure a world infested with red lyrium and catastrophe’ part. Essek: Imagine time as a branching thing. Every choice we make causes potential timelines to fade into non-existence. Essek: But their potential remains, waiting to be tapped. Alexius should have attempted to manifest a timeline in which I was never here, rather than removing me from this one. Dorian: Well, don’t tell everybody how to make it work. Wouldn’t want them to get ideas. Though perhaps you’d like to compare notes, later? Essek: I... would like that. 

Vivienne: You carry yourself remarkably well, Herald. Almost like nobility. Essek: Only 'almost'? I shall have to try harder. Vivienne: And despite your youth, you deflect personal inquiries with the deftness of a seasoned player of the Game. Quite remarkable, from a hedge mage. Essek: I'm mildly curious: 'hedge mage'? Vivienne: A self-taught mage, dear. One who has gone without the instruction of a Circle, or even a Dalish clan. If you ever require tuition, I am at your disposal. Essek: I’m sure you are. But I am not especially interested in whatever you think you have to teach.

Sera: You’re proper weird, you are. You go all swanny around the noble piss-bags, all smiles and pretty words like Lady Josie, but you put teeth in it, like Vivvy. Essek: Like Vivienne? I should hope not. Sera: And then you screw the nobs over like Josie does, ‘cept she makes them love her for it and you make them scared. Leliana kind of scared. Essek: When people don’t know you, or what to make of you, they fear you. It makes them... malleable. It’s something I’ve learned to use. As has Leliana, it would seem.

Varric: You doing all right, Smiles? Essek: 'Smiles'? An intriguing choice. Varric: Same reasoning as Iron Lady and Sparkler. Meet as many messes as I have, and you get good at spotting masks. Essek: Indeed? Varric: You fell out of the sky, got attacked by a shit ton of demons and put in charge of an army, and never once stopped smiling. Kind of impressive, actually. Essek: Thank you. Varric: Also, creepy as shit. 

Solas: I'm curious about your name, Herald. Essek: My name? It's Essek. Sera: [laughs] Solas: I meant that it isn't elven, though your family name sounds very like it. Solas: ‘Thelyss’. I wonder if it is is a result of syllables from the name 'Lethallas' being lost and altered over the years. It means, 'a gift to one's kin.' Essek: Ha. Solas: You don't find that likely? Essek: Me being a gift to my kin? Highly unlikely.

Iron Bull: So, boss, what do you make of my guys? Essek: They clearly have an array of talents. Iron Bull: Oh, come on. I didn't ask for what the Herald thought of his new recruits, I asked what you make of my guys. Essek: Very well. They are... unusual. Enthusiastic. I think that some would underestimate them, some would be thrown off-balance by them, and many would do both. Iron Bull: Ha. Yeah, we like to keep people guessing.  Essek: I like them. They are... lively.

Sera: I don’t get it. You can screw over noble shite-faces without being scary. And you’re not scary! I know you and you’re not scary, so why be scary? Essek: Well, I don’t find you scary either, Sera. But I’m sure our enemies do, when they’re on the wrong end of your arrows. Sera: That’s different things, though. I learned arrows because arrows mean nobs are dead and I’m not. Essek: Exactly. Like you, I have had to fight for survival in my own ways. And unlike you, for a long time, I was without friends. Sera: So... you learned how to do scary because you’re scared? Essek: I would say more... aware of potential dangers. Sera: So, scared.

Solas: As for your first name, the final syllable is not even a sound that occurs in elven. Is it Qunlat? One of your parents is Qunari, I assume? Essek: Ah. Yes, of course. Solas: So it is Qunlat? Iron Bull: Nah, that’s not Qunlat, whatever it is. Almost sounds like it, though. Kinda like ‘isskari’. Name for Ben-Hassrath who get hold of weird magic crap. Essek: Oddly appropriate. But since I'm not in contact with my family, the truth shall have to remain a mystery.

Blackwall: Are you all right, Herald? Essek: Fine, thank you. I simply have somewhat sensitive eyes and skin, and it is a very bright day. Blackwall: If you need to stop, I could... I don’t know. Hold a shield over your head? Essek: I appreciate it, but no, thank you. It is tolerable. Blackwall: Didn’t meant to offend. Essek: It is all right. I - [sighs] I apologise. That would help, if you could. Years of solitude have made me... reliant on my own self-reliance, I suppose.  Blackwall: I know what you mean. Shield parasol it is, then.

Sera: Don’t need to be scared, right? Anyone gives you shit, I give ‘em arrows. Or just pies. Or worms in their shoes. Essek: [chuckles] Thank you, Sera. Please do. Sera: Did think you were scary at first, you know.  Essek: What changed your mind? Sera: Scary wouldn’t grin when I drew butts on things.  Essek: ... Are you at all fond of cupcakes, Sera?

[thoushallnotfall]

God Bless the Children of the Beast - Part 8

Previous // Masterlist

Pairing: The Dirt!Tommy Lee x Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Notes: Ugh, this one was a chore. I had to rewrite a chunk of it since I changed my mind about some stuff…it was a whole thing.

I am playing chess with so many plot elements right now and some of them are like so freaking long game; like hang with me this is gonna be one of those updates that makes sense 8 updates later. Like I am laying the ground work for the bigger picture I swear it’s all relevant and my narrative choices will make sense later. (probably)

1984 is almost over… 🙃

Warnings: N/A (I don’t think anything majorly bad happens in this update?? So used to them at least doing drugs…)

1984

After your fight with Nikki, the atmosphere on the set of the video shoot had been less than stellar. It’s a wonder you all had managed to finish filming at all.

You were angry at Nikki for what he’d done and for putting you in an awkward position with Tommy, and in turn Nikki was trying to avoid you as much as possible. Then, you felt guilty about keeping the whole thing a secret from Tommy, which made you feel awkward around him; so it was easier for you to just try and avoid him all together if you could.

Tommy was trying to calm Roxy down after meeting his parents, and he was kind of pissed at you for laughing at the whole ‘groupie’ comment his mother had made. Normally you’d be upset about this, but it actually worked out in your favor, since you were trying to avoid him anyway. Still, how long could you keep this up? How long could you keep your distance from your best friend? How long could you lie to him, even if you knew it was for his own good?

The shoot done, you’d all retreated back to the hotel. After a long, hot shower, you called Razzle. You talked to him most nights now; some days it was only a few minutes, just to check in, see how the tour was going, make sure everyone was doing okay before he and his boys went out to party and you and yours did the same. Other times, the two of you stayed on the phone for hours, talking through the night. You had seen the long-distance bills from the hotels when you helped Doc with the paperwork–they were outrageous; but you didn’t care. It was worth it.

You had debated whether you should tell him about what was going on with you and Nikki, just so you could get it off your chest. Normally, if you had an issue like this, you would go straight to Tommy, or in the past Nikki; the fact that they were both at the center of the problem meant you had no one else to turn to. You could talk to Vince or Mick–under normal circumstances you would trust them enough to confide in them, but this issue was delicate; what if something happens and they accidentally told Tommy? You couldn’t risk anyone else close to you finding out and telling him. But then trusting someone new was, for lack of a better word–scary–and you weren’t sure if you were ready to put that level of trust in Razzle yet.

When you called him, you hadn’t really planned on telling him; you were just going to have a normal conversation. But he’d picked up on it immediately; he could tell something was wrong just by the tone of your voice. When he asked you about it, you realized you wanted to trust him, and you decided to take a chance and open up to him.

It felt good to talk. Not just to tell him about the situation, but to tell him how you felt about it. Razzle listened, telling you he honestly wasn’t sure what the right thing to do was, but that he was there for you, and you only had to call if you ever needed anything. Just listening was enough; just being there was enough.

And you really did love him for that.

—

After the shoot, there had been a noticable change in the dynamic of your group. No one wanted to talk about it, but the difference was obvious. You could barely stand to be around Nikki; between your anger at his actions with Roxie and his increasingly rude and inconsiderate behavior towards everyone, you found yourself fighting with him more and more each day.

Then there was Tommy. He and Roxie broke up, so that was one problem solved; but just like he always did after a breakup he was extra clingy with you now that she was gone. He wanted to hang out all the time, and that had caused some problems. For starters, while Roxie may be gone, you were still dealing with the weight of the her secret sex with Nikki, and knowing about it made being around Tommy awkward for you. You tried to suck it up and act like nothing was wrong, but it was obvious something was on your mind, and you wished Tommy would just give you some space so you had more time to process everything.

Then, there was the other issue that had come up between you. You had made it clear to Tommy you needed some time to yourself every once and awhile, and he seemed to agree, in theory. Then, in practice, would still bug you whenever he felt like it. Sometimes, he came to bother you in the middle of your phonecalls with Razzle. The few times this had happened, things had not gone well.

Tommy would insist you hang up and spend time with him. You would of course tell him no, saying you would hang out with him later. Usually, he would leave, pouting like a child. Later, he would spend the whole time complaining about Razzle; which annoyed you to no end–and you made sure to tell him so. That would only pissed him off more, and you two of you would both leave angry.

The last time he came in while you were on the phone, he’d been high, or drunk–or both–and when you refused to hang up he’d come over and done it for you. You’d gotten into a huge argument–something that had never happened before–and you made him leave, locking him out of your room.

Ever since your fight, Tommy had been walking on eggshells around you. He knew he’d fucked up, but he didn’t know how to fix it. You knew he couldn’t do anything; he’d apologized, but you were still upset. You just wanted to get away from all the drama–from Tommy, from Nikki–where you could relax and you didn’t have to worry if someone was going to yell at you for something or if you were going to get into another argument.

You weren’t essential to the band, it had occurred to you that maybe you could just go home for a week or two; take a little break? The guys wouldn’t love that idea, but no one could argue that things weren't strained right now. You could use some time apart. You hadn’t been away from them since they’d become a band–you’d all been living together the whole three years since they’d formed Motley Crue. It would be strange to be away from them after being together for so long, but then again some distance was starting to seem like exactly what you needed. And they do say absence makes the heart grow fonder; maybe taking some time apart would help heal the rifts forming in your most important relationships. Even if you didn’t love the idea of being alone, it would be worth it to get away for awhile.

As you drop your bags in yet another empty hotel room, you spot the phone on the nightstand, and an idea suddenly occurs to you. A crazy idea; maybe a great idea, or maybe a totally stupid one. Either way, the boys will absolutely hate it.

You pick up the phone, dialing the number and giving instructions to the receptionist on the other end as you sit on your bed.

“'ello beautiful.” Razzle greets you, and you smile.

“Hey Nic, how’s it going?” You ask, twirling the spiral cord around your finger.

“No' too bad; the boys and I jus' go' back.” He answer.

“Oh, that’s good.” You say, biting your lip, unsure of how to proceed.

“Is everythin' awlrigh'? You sound upset again.” He asks. “More trouble wif your brofa? Or is it Tommy this time?” You sigh, grateful he brought it up so you didn’t have to.

“Um, well I mean yeah, sort of, but, that’s actually not what I called about.” You say.

“Oh?” He asks. “Do tell.” You take a deep breath.

“I was wondering what you would think about me maybe coming to stay with you?” You ask, nervous. “Just for a little while.” You add hastily at the end.

“You wan' to come wif me? On tou'a?” He asks, clearly surprised.

“Yeah; I, I mean if you and the band don’t mind.” You reply.

“Of course I don’t fuckin' mind!” He says, clearly excited; and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “But wha' about the Crue? Won’ they be angry you’re off tourin’ wif another band?”

“I’ll handle the boys.” You assure him, smiling into the receiver.

—

“The fuck do you mean you’re leaving?” Nikki asks as he looks at you, your bags at your feet.

“Exactly what I said; you need it in writing?” You snap.

“Would you stop being a fucking bitch for five seconds and explain to me what the hell you think you’re playing at?” Nikki spits back. “You can’t just fucking leave!”

“Newsflash Nikki; you don’t fucking own me! I can do whatever the hell I want!” You shout, throwing your arms up.

“Okay, okay can everyone just chill out for a second please?” Vince asks.

“Stay the fuck out of this Vince.” Nikki sneers as he looks over at the blonde. “This isn’t any of your fucking business.”

“Don’t fucking yell at him!” You say, scowling at Nikki as he looks back at you.

“We’re gonna get kicked out of the lobby soon.” Mick comments absently.

“Y/N please don’t go.” Tommy begs. “We can talk about this.”

“I’ve made up my mind Tommy.” You say firmly, crossing your arms.

“Where you gonna go, huh?” Nikki asks. “Back home? You live in my house y/n! You can’t go home–I won’t allow it!”

“'Allow it?’” You repeat in a mix of anger and disbelief. “God you have been such a fucking asshole lately! What the hell is wrong with you?” You yell back at him, exasperated. “And for your information no, I’m not going home; I’m going to stay with Nic.”

“Nic?” Nikki looks at you confused. Then, realization spreads across his face. “Oh hoho! You’re going on tour with Razzle and the rest of those fuckers in Hanoi Rocks!”

“What?” Tommy scowls. “You’re going on tour with another band?”

“I’m going to stay with my boyfriend, who is currently in a band that is touring.” You try dodging the question with a half-truth.

Technically Razzle wasn’t your boyfriend yet–but that was only because the two of you didn’t have time to talk about it over the phone before you had to leave to catch your flight. You expected that’s where things were headed though, since you were going to be touring with him now, so it wasn’t a total lie.

“Boyfriend? Since fucking when?” Tommy shouts.

“That’s none of your fucking business.” You snap, taken aback by his sudden change in tone. He had been so desperate and kind a second ago.

“So what? You a fucking groupie now y/n? Huh? You just gonna hop from one band to another whenever it’s convenient for you?” Tommy asks, clearly pissed. You look back at him like you’ve been slapped in the face. You clench your jaw as tears start forming in your eyes.

“Fuck you Tommy.” You whisper, tears sliding down your cheeks.

“Y/N–” He calls out to you, but you ignore him; grabbing your bags and heading out the door.

—

You stand outside waiting for your taxi as the tears continue flowing down your face. It was all too much, and as much as you hated people seeing you cry, you just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Nikki was changing. It had been happening for awhile, but you had tried to ignore it; made excuses, played it off. Now there was no denying the truth: the brother you knew, who hurt himself to save you from your mother and her shitty boyfriends, who went hungry so you could eat, who took beatings to protect you–he was disappearing. This new Nikki was someone else, someone dark, and controlling. Someone who didn’t care about hurting the people he cared about–even you. You saw less and less of the Nikki you knew everyday, and you worried one day you’d look at your brother’s face and see a stranger staring back at you.

Then there was Tommy. That sweet, simple boy you meet three years ago. Your best friend. There was more to Tommy than that now–maybe there always had been, and you just never saw it. You didn’t understand how Tommy could be so sweet, then act so cruel. You didn’t understand why he got this way about Razzle; it’s like ever since you’d started seeing the other drummer, it had brought out the worst in Tommy.

As you stand under the awning waiting for your taxi, tears still staining your cheeks, you hear the doors to the lobby open behind you. You turn and see Vince and Mick walking toward you. You quickly wipe your face on the back of your arm and smile up at them.

“Hey, sorry you guys had to get stuck in the middle of that.” You say, doing your best to sound cheerful.

“Not the first time we’ve been in the center of a public shitshow; though usually there’s more nudity involved.” Mick says, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. You know he’s trying to cheer you up, and honestly it works. A small giggle escapes your lips.

“We can still fix that if you want to y/n.” Vince says, winking at you. “I’m always down for a little public nudity if you’re involved.”

“I’d like to not get arrested tonight; but thanks anyway Vince.” You say, smirking at him. He shurgs.

“Your loss.” He replies, looking away. After a moment, he looks back at you, a more sincere expression on his face. “By the way y/n, I wanted to say…” He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks down at the pavement awkwardly.

“What?” You press. It was unusual for Vince to be at a loss for words. He sighs, then looks back up at you.

“I just wanted to say you shouldn’t listen to Nikki and Tommy–they were being real assholes, and they were wrong.” Your eyes go wide as you stare back at him in shock. You knew Vince and Mick felt bad for you, but you hadn’t really expected them to openly take your side against their bandmates.

“Look, you’re not a bitch, and you’re definitely not a fucking groupie, okay? I mean if you were then I think I got fucking jipped.” He says with a laugh. You’re too surprised to laugh at the joke, not that it was that great to begin with.

“With jokes like that it’s amazing you ever resisted his charms.” Mick comments, and that manages to get a laugh from you. “He is right though; those two were total shitheads and I don’t blame you for wanting to split. You deserve to be happy, and if that frilly English shit makes you happy, then I say go for it.” You’re taken aback by the sincerity in Mick’s words. Vince comes over and puts a hand in your shoulder.

“Look, try not to worry about what Nikki and Tommy said, okay? They’re just pissed because they’re used to having you all to themselves, and they don’t like the idea of having to share you. So go have fun with your English boy toy, and just know we’ll be here if you ever get homesick.” You look back at the two of them, and you feel your heart swell so full it aches.

Nikki and Tommy had been the people you were closest to since the band formed; Nikki was your brother, your rock, your oldest friend. Tommy had quickly grown to be your best friend, your closet companion, the person you trusted most. But you couldn’t forget how much you loved Vince and Mick; they were your brothers just as much as Nikki and Tommy were. You had been through so much with both of them, and just because you were having problems with Tommy and Nikki, you didn’t want to punish Mick and Vince for that.

You feel tears well up in your eyes as you grab hold of Vince, hugging him tightly as you bury your face in the crock of his neck.

“Thanks Vinny.” You say as you squeeze him tighter. “I appreciate it.” You let him go, and his cheeks are flushed as he looks away.

“Yeah, whatever.” He says, and you laugh, whipping your eyes. You move over to Mick and wrap your arms around him.

“Give us a call every once and awhile so we know you’re not dead.” He says, and you laugh as you pull away.

“Yes dad.” You reply sarcastically, and he scowls. You smile, moving to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. His eyes go wide as he stares back at you in surprise. “I promise I’ll call as soon as I get there, okay?” He looks away.

“S'all I’m asking.” He mumbles.

“Hey, why does the old man get a kiss?” Vince whines, and you laugh.

Just then, the taxi pulls up to take you to the airport.

“Well, looks like my ride’s here.” You say, trying to mask your sadness by turning away from them. You move to get your bags, but Vince grabs them before you can. He winks at you, and silently moves to toss them in back of the taxi.

“It’s not forever; I’ll see you guys again in no time.” You say cheerful as you look at Mick, who just nods in response, looking lonely. You take one quick glance back at the lobby doors, before turning to the taxi.

“Thanks for grabbing my bags Vince; maybe there’s a gentleman buried in there somewhere after all.” You say, smirking.

“Don’t hold your breath sweetheart.” Vince jokes, smiling; though you both feel the sadness behind it. As you pass him, you lean in and give him a quick peak on the cheek. You smile as Vince laughs.

“There, now you’re even.” You say, before getting into the taxi. You shut the door, waving out the back window as you watch the two of them get further and further away.

[ccsthemovie2]

trick or treat 2021 letter

DEAR MY KIND AND HARDWORKING GIFTER,

hi there my ao3 is zagspect and thanks in advance for making me a piece of fic or art in this fun little exchange! heres some food for thought to munch on.

i loooove slice of life, character moments, outsider povs that make things we’re used to in canon seem absurd or funny or weird or scary, humor, horror-in-fluff’s-clothing, sweetness-found-in-horror, and also just plain sweetness. feel free to get weird or experimental with your writing if you think the moment calls for it :3 im not really requesting anything sexy-nsfw in this exchange so pls keep things down to a nice pg13 (high-rated gore for higurashi work is an exception, lol, like, it’s when they cry. that’s just part of the deal.)

🌸✨

cardcaptor sakura (trick or treat!)

clear card manga spoilers are fine with me! manga and anime canon are both fine, and mashing them up is cool too. no aus past that though, please!

clow reed

the big man himself! scare me with his his manipulative tendencies, his eternal pushpull fear of both being eternally relied on and being no longer needed, the way he treats other people, especially people who love him. (yue! the madoushi! i am into both of these being unrequited romantically on his end, but he’s not gonna just gonna tell them that, you think he’s straightforward like that?) what’s daily life like in the clowse? creating a new card, what’s that like? does everybody get along with the normal, non magic neighbors? 

yelan li

what’s up with her??? what’s her relationship with her children like, what are the responsibilities of a magician family’s head, how weird is it that clow is kind of back all of a sudden, what’s her thoughts on sakura? fleshing out a minor character is always fun :]

eriol & li

okay, so, we get to the end of the original series. syaoran returns to hong kong. ????????. syaoran is in cahoots with eriol to (vaguely alluding to cc spoilers in case you haven’t caught up in the manga), do some pretty serious magic behind sakura’s back.

so, like... what went down in the ?????

kero & sakura & yue 

they’re FAMBILYYYYY. magic found family i love them so much. show me the depths of their care for her, and hers for them, the way there’s absolutely some ice to break with yue but when he gets loyal he will DIE for you, the way sakura can mend the rift between kero and yue, the way the two of them are balancing this wonderful openness and equality with oh yeah, she’s eleven, we kind of said some seriously dark stuff in the haze of sleepover talk didn’t we? 

ruby & spinel & eriol 

pre-canon or mid-canon or post-canon! what’s the dynamic between them, a quiet night in, a day out telling people that you’re connected by whatever lie you find funniest. going to tomoeda and having to pretend youre a kid, a teen, and a cat, but goddd you could all go for an elegant and adult glass of wine right now (especially the cat). what horrors are lurking in that house from the clow era that no one cares to address? like emotionally and also because it’s a magic wizard house with magic stuff in it. 

touya/yukito/yue 

i am here for any and all angles of this ship- all together, your touyukis, your yuetouyas, your yuekitos if you wanna get in on a rarely seen angle! (but pls have touya and/or yukito be 18+ at a time where yue shows interest in them). i wanna see the way they interact! how they deal with, you know, the everything! pre-relationship pining, going on a date, touya and yukito in college wondering if they’ll end up having different majors, different paths for the first time. yukito seeing yue on video for the first time (OH NO HES HOT), yukito and yue figuring out internal boundaries, etc etc etc.  

naoko and touya 

the girl who loves ghosts and the guy who sees (or, used to see), ghosts! does she follow him to one of his haunts (pun intended)? does he have to go to her for ghost sensing advice now that he’s a regular old human? does he have to save her from a ghost that means her harm? how excited is she to tell sakura about the COOL GHOST I MET WITH YOUR BROTHER OMG U DIDNT TELL ME HE LIKES GHOSTS??? and how much does sakura wanna sink into the ground lololol

🌹⚔️

revolutionary girl utena (trick or treat!)

ohh, what a place of scary happenings! tell me a fairytale, even if it’s not such a good idea. pre, mid, postcanon, im fine with it all. feel free to weave a web with easter egg references to any other media you feel is right for the moment- utena is all about Genre and Stories!

shadow girls 

i love them i love their whole everything. i wanna see a play, i wanna see them interact with other characters! what if they do a play AS the other characters, ooooh.

anthy/utena 

THE GIRLS WHO INVENTED LOVE THEMSELVES. ive read a thousand stories of them finding each other and it never gets old. id love to read about their life post-ohtori, especially the not-so-happily-ever-after parts- the old wounds reopening, the fights, and how they work through it, wont lose each other ever again. 

saionji/touga

what’s spookier than toxic masculinity? both of them miserably stuck, saionji obsessed with touga, touga believing anyone who believes in friendship is a fool. bro we are taking shirtless pictures among 500 potted cacti....why does my heart hurt..... oh shit its the cactus i rolled onto it ow ow

nanami

nanami being nanami! she’s got no clue how to act ever, she’s desperate, she’s trying SO HARD. i’d love to see a nanami finally getting out of there, too. leaving home with nothing but the clothes on her back, diamonds in her necklace, and a wheeled suitcase of raw eggs.... (crunch crunch crunch)

🎲🗓

higurashi when they cry (trick or treat!)

i’m a gou/sotsu enjoyer and gonna prompt about that a lot but original flavor is, of course, great too. pls dont go too heavy on info outside the main 8+saikoroshi+gou/sotsu? i haven’t read those. ive read umineko+ciconia though so references there are fine :3

rena/mion/keiichi

college days! getting together, crushing on each other, poly relationship figuringouts? dates that are just club meetings with kissing and all the ridiculousness of that.

satoko/rika

gou/sotsu era TOXIC LESBIAN EPIC MOMENTS!!!!!! obsession and desperation and satoko putting all her emotional eggs in rika’s basket no matter how angry she is with her, rika’s love for satoko across 100 years and how that all crumbles (to satoko) in the face of rika’s Cool School. rika wanting satoko to go to school with her so so so bad. deep pain and misunderstandings and acting badly (like, murder badly), and then, we hope, atonement and something new beginning? i love character moments where someones so obsessively in love it feels like its eating them up inside.

rena & satoko

look, rena’s smart and really pays attention to how people feel and i think, before or after satoko becomes a looper but especially after, she would make an attempt to have a heart to heart with satoko. and satoko, as a looper, will politely brush her off, will go you dont know me you can’t affect me. youre just a chess piece. when i get to the miracle world where rika loves me, ill listen to you. this you is here to die, or to kill. 

eua

oh eua is just using satoko up like a bar of soap and it takes satoko way, way too long to realize. evil girltalk/crush advice from the witchmom perhaps?

shion

meakashi made me LOVE her. internal shion moments, perhaps? shion being an empath (decides what ppl are thinking and instantly believes it)? shion in gou-era wanting to talk to satoko about st. lucia’s, but she never shows up to dinner?

okay i think that’s all for now!!! thanks and i hope you have fun!!!

[carnistcervine]

Cyberpunk Avatar RPG

Wouldn’t it be cool if there was a cyberpunk Avatar RPG?

[Image Description- A logo that says “AVATAR Neon Lights in the Eternal Night” “AVATAR” is done in a classic 80′s chrome style, and “Neon Lights” and “Eternal Night” are done like neon lights. Raava’s diamond dots the “i” in lights, and Vaatu’s diamond dots the “i” in night. The phrase is set over a starry night sky.]

[Video Description/Transcript-

A woman pants a few times, out of breath. She pauses, and hesitantly turns around. Behind her is an ominous tree with a creepy glowing orange object in it looking like an eye. We cut back to the woman who has turned around and is facing the tree.

Next we cut to a simple game scene where the woman and the tree face each other. There is some simple game gui displayed on the screen. A dialogue box is open.

“A strange tree in the middle of the room regards you carefully. You stare back into a glowing object in the tree’s hollow that you can only assume to be it’s eye. you become transfixed, gazing deep into the strange hollow as the soft hum of neon lights and the strange, heartbeat-like ticking fade into the background.

Suddenly, a voice emanates from somewhere. It is low, but commanding. It calls to you...”

Another dialogue box with a portrait of the tree and labeled “???”

“Well, well, well. What do we have here? You seem... different from the usual humans that bother me. Yes, you don’t wear that hideous outfit and you seem to carry yourself differently...”

Another dialogue box

“...

That tremor in your mortal core...

...

You aren’t supposed to be here, are you?”

Another dialogue box but with the woman and the label “Ember”

“...”

Another dialogue box for “???”

“Do not worry, I am not going to raise any alarms. Quite the opposite, actually. You see, I require your assistance. I have been imprisoned here for well over 10,000 years, and if that wasn’t bad enough, in the past few hundred years humans have come across my prison and decided to exploit me for their own gain. They’ve been draining me for hundreds of years. Please. If you consider yourself an ally of spirits, HELP ME.”

Dialogue options for Ember

“>[Ominous] “I don’t know...”

[Accepting] “Sure...”

[Mean] “Not my problem...”

[Silence] “...””

The ominous option is chosen and this dialogue box from Ember appears.

“I dunno, you seem pretty ominous to me.”

Another dialogue box from “???”

“So, I don’t deserve your assistance because you find me scary??

I deserve to be in pain then.

Wow.”

Ember responds

“That’s not what I said.”

??? replies

“It was implied.

Ember’s dialogue box:

“No it- Look. I don’t even know your name.”

??? now known as Vaatu replies.

“My name is Vaatu. I am an eternal spirit. I have watched the sun’s violent birth, and will be here for it’s burning end. I have existed before time began, and have played role in the shaping of the very universe itself.

My counterpart trapped me in here so she could shape the world without my input. The humans are draining me of my power and I’ve been in agony for centuries. Is that good enough for you?”

Ember’s dialogue options:

“[Kind] “You poor thing...”

>[Accepting] “Sure...”

[Mean] “Not my problem...”

[Silence] “...””

Accepting is chosen.

“Sure. Why not.”

Vaatu replies,

“So, you’ll help me?”

Ember’s options:

“[Accept Quest] “Of course.”

[Deny Quest] “No.”

>[Inquire] “What about me?”

[Silence] “...””

Inquire is chosen.

“That depends... What’s in it for me?”

Vaatu responds:

“Hmm... What’s that you mortals are always prattling on about? Morality?

Do it because it’s “the right thing to do” or something...”

Ember’s dialogue options:

“[Accept Quest] “Fair.”

[Deny Quest] “No thanks.”

>[Assuming] “Bold of you...”

[Silence] “...””

Assuming option is chosen.

“Bold of you to assume I care about doing the right thing.”

Another narrating dialogue box appears.

“There is a silence. Annoyance rolls off of Vaatu in waves. You almost expect the tree hollow to narrow at you.

But instead he replies:”

Vaatu’s reply-

“Fair enough. Help me, and you will be rewarded... quite handsomely.

Do you find these terms agreeable?”

Ember’s dialogue options:

“>[Accept Quest] “Sure.”

[Deny Quest] “Not good enough.”

[Tease Him] “I dunno...”

[Silence] “...””

The quest is accepted.

“Sure. Why not?”

The dialogue box closes and a pop up appears. Saying that the quest log has been updated.

Another dialogue option appears indicating that the player has chosen to interact with Vaatu again.

“Soo, how exactly am I supposed to free you?”

Vaatu replies:

“Well, ending the drain of my energy would be a great start.

Occasionally humans will come in here and check these strange electrical vines for anomalies. Sometimes talking about a “system overload.” It seems this would take their whole set up down. Maybe look into that.”

The dialgue box closes and the characters continue their idle animations for a few more seconds as the video ends.]

Like, that’d be pretty sweet huh?

Anyway, here’s a thing I’ve been working on for past couple weeks. It’s gonna be a long one, so lots of concept art, vids, and descriptions below the cut.

So, anyway, I kind of got this idea for a cyberpunk Avatar RPG fangame and did some concepts and mockups for it. :D

A working title I came up for it was Avatar: Neon Lights in the Eternal Night. The main idea/driving force of the plot is that humans are exploiting Vaatu/The Tree of Time as a sort of infinite clean energy source. And well, while the energy gotten doesn’t cause runaway greenhouse effects that would devastate the planet’s climate, it has upset the spirits, and caused major metropolitan areas to be cloaked in eternal darkness. Also, over the past few hundred years, the physical realm and spirit world have been drifting further and further apart, creating a void/rift realm between the two. And if that weren’t bad enough, the world governments are corrupted and run by big business, and their iron will is enforced by the corrupted police systems.

So you’d have to deal with dark/corrupted spirits, bad cops, evil corporations, and uncaring governments. :’D

My idea for the main game is that you can either choose a preset character or create your own character from scratch. You can choose your gender, bending ability(including being a nonbender!), national alliance(which determines where you start), your appearance, starting stats(make your character as balanced or min-maxed as you want) among other things.

Here’s a GUI mockup I made for the character creator, it’s very basic, only a first draft but it gets the basic idea across. I hope. :’D

[Image Description- A simple gui mockup for an RPG game. It shows the options for naming, gender, ability, choosing an alignment to a particular nation. It also has unshown tabs for looks and stats. There is a window for finalizing the character open, asking “Is this your true form?” A yes or no option is given.]

I’m not 100% on this look/design, but what I was thinking was that the character creator could be split into three tabs- Bio, Looks, and Stats.

Bio would be your name, gender, bending ability(you can choose nonbender!), and which nation you align with. There’s also an option to be unaligned(the yin-yang like symbol), and you’d be offered some info about your ability/nation combo. Like information about the Fire Nation if you choose to be a Fire Nation firebender, or even info about nonbenders in whatever faction you choose, or how people of other bending types exist/are treated by your chosen faction. Like how waterbenders live in the Fire Nation, or firebenders live in the Water Tribes.

I am considering adding the swamp tribe and splitting the Water Tribe into the Northern and Southern variants, but again, this gui thing is just a first draft. :’D

For looks, you’d choose your characters skin color, hair color and style, eye color, as well as from a few small cybernetic options. Of course, you could have a character with no cybernetics as well.

With stats, you’d choose your starting stat distributions. I’m thinking that I’d have stats like strength, bending, speed, agility, and maybe even stats like charisma or spirituality. Charisma would effect your character’s ability to interact with others, and spirituality would affect their ability to interact with spirits or connect to their patron deity.

Someone who isn’t very spiritual wouldn’t have much of a connection to their deity and isn’t likely to be blessed by them however they’re more resistant to the effects of negative spirit energy and dark spirits. Meanwhile, someone who is highly spiritual would receive buffs and bonuses from their patron deity, but would also be much more vulnerable to dark spirits.

Also yes, the character creation screen is absolutely your character standing there as Vaatu ominously stares at you in the background.

Also here’s how I picture the character creator minus the GUI-

[Video Description- A short video of a character standing in front of the Tree of Time, doing an idle animation. The video looks very reminiscent of PSx style rendering.]

Here are some character models I’ve done thus far~ (They’d probably end up as preset characters)

[Video/Image descriptions- A simple idle animation of a woman swaying slightly from side to side. After that are a series of screenshots to show off her design. She has brown skin and dark turquoise eyes. Her hair is a slightly darker brown than her skin. She wears a dark purple hazmat/wetsuit type deal. She has dark blue gloves and boots with cyan tops. The boots also have a stripe going down the front. The wetsuit has a cyan collar and a design on the front that looks a little like a fishbone or a pelvic bone with a few vertebra. She has cyan water symbols on her shoulders, and has a water tank on her back. The water tank also has a water symbol on it. She has a dark purple gasmask with white markings over the eyes and nose, cyan filters, and fancy-looking lenses.]

I don’t really have a name for her, I just made the design on the fly, and called her “Cyber Water”. :p I really ended up loving her design though, and her idle. Like it’s just a simple sway/shift weight from foot to foot, but I quite like how fluid she looks, and the way here ponytail swings so nicely~

For her design I kind of got this idea of a hazmat/wetsuit type thing. While, unintentional, I do really like how the marking on her front kind of looks like a fishbone/pelvis and spine. I feel like it kind of adds to the hazmat type effect. Also, I meant for the white on her gasmask to be shine, but it ended up looking like snow/markings, and well, I actually really like the effect it gives actually! She also has a tank of water on her, so she also has some element to use. I haven’t decided whether the water should be tainted so it poisons the people she attacks or purified so she can drink/heal with it should the need arise.

I also really like her face, I feel like I’m getting better at texturing faces. My only regret is that I keep forgetting to add some hair around the edges of her face so her hairline isn’t so awkward/abrupt.

Also yes, I did make her hair danglies droplet shaped on purpose. I couldn’t help myself. :3

[Video and Image Descriptions- A young woman sways slightly once, and taps her foot impatiently twice. Next are a series of screenshots showing off her design. She has lightly tanned skin, dark hair with green highlights, neon green eyelashes, her left eye is normal and dark green, her right eye is cybernetic and looks like it’s made from a smoothed emerald. Her face is dotted with neon green crystal freckles, she has a silver nosering and snakebites, as well as earring with the same crystals that make up her freckles. She wears a dark green tunic with a gold collar, and golden Earth Kingdom symbols as accents down the front. The bottom is lined with neon green symbols. The symbols don’t mean anything, they just look cool. Her hands are robotic, and she has brown pants that are tucked into bluish-green boots.]

LORD. I had WAY too much fun with this one! Her idle is by far my favorite! That little foot tap. I just, it’s such a small thing but it adds so much character. <3 Also it’s just cute as hell~

Her face is also my favorite. Like, I love her creepy, crystal eye, her nose ring, crystal freckles, even just the way her face turned out. <3 <3 Like, I’m gushing but I’m super proud of her~ Like my idea for her is that she kind of takes body mods to the next level and has crystals implanted into her face, giving her crystal freckles.

Also she got robot arms/hands.

I have more characters, but I’ve reached my video limit, so rip.

I mean, I’ll just make a second post with the other three I’ve made, no big deal.

butsneakpeek

[Image Description- A screenshot preview of five cyberpunk style benders.]

I’ve made three levels/environments so far~

The Tree of Time-

Once a part of the sacred balance of the realms and a keystone holding the two worlds together, as well as a prison to keep Vaatu from reeking havoc upon the world, this place has since been exploited by an enterprising group of humans who decided to use the tree and it’s hapless occupant to power the world and it’s vanities. Hundreds of years later, both the tree and Vaatu remain as a source of infinite energy for mankind, with the cost being the slow spread of eternal darkness and chaos. While Vaatu isn’t happy about his predicament, he is an eternal being. He bides his time, waiting for his inevitable freedom...

[Image Description- Multiple screenshots of a cyberpunk take on the Tree of Time. The first two are rendered in unreal with dark purple lighting and some PSX shaders for some good old PSX crunch. The last three are screenshots from Maya with neutral lighting. The level’s ceiling is a downward pointing cone of many black cables/wires connecting into the top of the tree. The tree itself is also covered in black wires with red lights. Vaatu peeks out from the tree’s hollow. With the way the model is designed, the tree hollow looks like an eye that follows the person looking at it.

Because it is.

The tree sits on a red platform with it’s roots entangled in wires coming up from the floor. Tall, grey metal walls surround the tree, they are all adorned with the symbols of the elements along with a symbol for light and a symbol for dark.

Ember is also there because Vaatu needs an emotional support firebender and Zuko wasn’t available.]

The Jasmine Dragon-

The Jasmine Dragon is a teashop opened and ran by everyone’s favorite proverb giving, tea drinking, fire-breathing Uncle. It sits comfortably in the upper ring of Ba Sing Se, many patrons describing the tea served there as divine, and something to experience at least once before you die. Being an old retired general and ex-crown prince of the Fire Nation, Uncle knows how to lay low in the public eye and hide his cards well. Which is why, despite not appearing on the radar of the Dai Li, Uncle has managed to create safe space for those rebelling against Ba Sing Se’s authoritarian regime.

[Image Description- Multiple images of a more modern take on The Jasmine Dragon from ATLA. The first two are renders from Unreal, with that good ol’ PSX crunch. The rest are screenshots from Maya, which is why they’re actually legible. The walls are a beige color, there are many cream colored tables surrounded by green chairs. There are two rectangular windows at the front with a long table and sofas for customers who want to look outside as they drink. There are also two sets of two smaller hexagonal windows on either side of the restaurant. Down the center isleway there is a green rug with a dragon design on it. The walls are also adorned with many deep green posters, depicting earth symbols or dragons. In the employee’s only backroom there is a counter with a table and a few shelves as well as a couch for employees(Zuko) to rest while on break. There are red posters in the back room and a red backdoor for emergency exits. The Earthbender girl is featured in the first two screenshots. Ember can be seen in the Maya screenshots. She likes the boba tea.

Here’s what all the posters would say if Carnist wasn’t poop at writing Chinese.

-Earth is strong

-Jasmine Dragon

- It is better to go for three days without food than one day without tea.

-Fire

-Fire is fierce

-Exit

-The world [all under heaven] is guided by one.

-Fuck the police.]

Convexity-

As the rift between the material and spiritual planes widens, an airlock of sorts has been created. A void between worlds, created by the imbalance, and shifting of spiritual energy and physical matter.

Yes this place was inspired by convexity from The Legend of Spyro. :’D

[Image Description- Multiple screenshots of dark hexagonal stones with purple/pinkish energy flowing through them. The stones appear to be floating in an empty void, however once one looks down, a spiraling galaxy or maybe a quasar can be spotted.

Also Ember is there.

She really gets around.]

Finally, here’s a bunch of concept sketches-

[Image Description- Several concept sketches depicting a cyberpunk Gaang, the Krew, and even the best Avatar: Wan.]

One last thing I feel I should mention- I wasn’t planing on making a fangame, but if this post gets 150 notes or the video at the top of the post gets 150 likes, or both, I’ll make a functional demo and make the project open source with my assets and such also available for download.

I’m making the game, lol.

Credits-

Character models were made from Jugapugz’s lowpoly base

Aight, I desperately need sleep, so I’ll post the other three characters tomorrow. And I’ll update this post a better description for the concept sketches. Until then, thanks for checking this out~

[punkwithpaints]

The Rammstein Magic!AU no one asked for

Sorry this is kinda Richard heavy. I originally was just going to use him as an inspiration for a single character, but the deeper I went for his character, the more I started pulling in the rest of the gang until I decided it was easier to call it an AU. This is absolute word vomit and spit balling an idea, but I’d love to hear what you think and some feedback! Pardon the rambling and sorry if this makes zero sense.

 Richard: Alright, so, basically he can summon spirits/entities things like that. He knows about the forest’s darker secrets. Think of those spooky writings that are like “If you’re in the woods and hear 3 knocks, knock back but leave immediately.” Like, this fucker knows every old spirit, good, bad and unknown that go through the forest. He knows all the do’s and don’t’s and people come to him when they manage to get curses put on them or their families. He also knows about monsters that lurk around at night and other things.

With summoning, it’s a skill where at first it’s overwhelming since he starts to see and hear spirits and all that, so it’s a hard power to learn. Most summon animals or things that are living, not the dead. Most people’s minds can’t handle the added effect of seeing and hearing that stuff constantly.

He goes to churches or houses that people are like, “Uh, What is happening in this place?”. And he can strut in, look around and be like, “lmao that’s a demon, I see you fucker.” And he’s gotten so good at summoning that he can kinda reverse uno whatever it is, causing to it to be able to be seen by everyone else as well.

Problem is, when he first started learning, he got cocky and ended up fucking around with something way stronger than what he could handle at the time and basically got possessed. For years he is basically a dick. He’s dangerous, reclusive, hurts his friends and those around him, yadda yadda. Finally, he has enough will power to try and stop this thing, but the only way he knows how to get rid of it is to kill himself. Because without a living soul/body, the demon has nothing to feed off of or a place to stay. So he attempts by trying to slit his wrists, however, the demon is so impressed with his willpower and determination he offers a deal. It basically says, “Listen, I’ll make you a deal. You will have free will over your body and mind, but I get to stay.” Fine. Demon doesn’t let him die, heals his wounds, but there are scars obviously.

Richard now has a demon inside him. Fantastic. Richard and the demon can converse back and forth. So, Richard will be like, “Yeah, looks like you’re dealing with *insert demon thing here*.” And suddenly his voice will change and the demon is like, “I don’t know, it seems more like *other demon thing*”. Freaks people out pretty bad usually, if they aren’t expecting it. Richard also has a regular eye and a blind eye. Regular eye is just a regular eye, but his other blind eye is what gives him the ability to see the spirits. It’s like a right of passage for his type of people, where they have to blind one of their own eyes somehow.

ANYWAY

With the demon inside him, the demon has the ability to bring things back from the dead. Hence why Richard was able to come back after attempting to kill himself. Technically speaking, Richard is sorta permanently dead but living. I considered giving him no heart beat but I’ll get back to that in a sec. So, Demon and him slowly start working together where he lets the demon influence and strengthen his summoning powers and summon the actual dead as well as see them. Now he has necromancy.

When the demon made his deal, he tells Richard he can summon him if he needs him, but it’s gonna be hella taxing. Richard has to summon him exactly as he did the first time. AKA, slit his wrists to activate it. So, demon would take back into control causing Richards magic to get stronger by God knows how much. Obviously, he can’t do this very often or for too long, but if shit really hits the fan, this could help him make it out alive. I mean, the demon really doesn’t want to lose his flesh home.  I’m thinking this is where the heart beat thing comes into play. Where he’s sorta half dead, his heart would stop when he activates the demon to take over.

  Till: TILL. THIS GUY. So, I figured where Till likes the water/swimming/animals so much, he’d live at the edge of the forest by the ocean cliff sides. He’s specialize in familiars and mythological creatures. Like, he’s BFF’s with the local sirens and mermaids. He’s the opposite of Richard. Till has the magic that I forget the name of but it revolves around communicating with animals, knowing what the area is saying through them, that kinda stuff if that makes any sense. He likes growing special and rare herbs for potions and rituals. He’s pretty quiet and doesn’t like being around people, so he keeps his magic on the down low usually and spends his time talking to the sirens and mermaids, creatures/animals around him. Tends to his garden and such. He sells it at the weekend markets where he does fine since he’s one of the few that can offer certain herbs. I think he would have a shapeshifting ability or have a familiar he could change into. I’m thinking a bear or a griffin. Druid-ish????

Although Till loves the water, he’s actually specializes in pyromancy. He doesn’t use it too often, since he keeps his magic mainly hidden, but hey, he can start a camp fire or his stove with it, so that’s nice. He loves to gossip with the mermaids and sirens. They were a little confused when their tricks and songs didn’t work on him, well, they did a little, but not completely. But then they put 2 and 2 together and go, “Oh….Wait….I don’t think he likes girls as much as some of the other sailors we’ve met.” So now they just accept him as their bestie and like talking to him about their crushes and the newest dumb sailors they all lured in. They both share fish catches with each other, and Till does sketches of the market/forest so he can come and show them what it looks like since they’re curious.

He also owns a dragon. Not a big one. One that’s the size of a parrot. It likes to chill on his shoulder and likes crackers and grasshoppers. He raised it from an egg. Everyone is all like, “Dude yeah he’s scary omg, I heard he has a whole dragon!!” and they stop by, only to find this burly dude having a cup of tea with the mermaids and a tiny dragon nibbling a graham cracker on his shoulder.

However, his herbs/garden is what links him to Paul and Flake.

 Paul/Flake: So, these two bois live together (Definitely no homo going on here) and Flake is even more recluse than Till. They have a cloaking spell on their cabin. You have to absolutely know a certain tree with a ritual attached to it or a spell/password sorta deal to gain access/the ability to see it.

They’re in an open field/prairie area. Flake would be a healer and very good at protection based spells and rituals. He always buys a lot of his herbs from Till so him and Till are close because 1.) Both reclusive as fuck and 2.) P L A N T S.

Meanwhile, Paul has telekinesis and mind reading. He’s a cocky boi but he does care a ton. Even if everyone wants to smack him half the time. I keep thinking their first meeting was something along the lines of:

Flake brings him along when he goes to Till to stock up on herbs, and Paul meets Richard for the first time since Richard stopped by to visit. It’s probably pretty fresh after the whole “Tried to kill myself to yeet the demon out of me and now we’re roommates” deal. And They have barely shaken hands when Paul is looks smug and goes, “You regret you didn’t die but you were honestly too scared too as well.” And Richard is like “ALRIGHT I HAVE TO KILL HIM DON’T YOU DARE READ MY MIND LIKE THAT”. So, Paul and Richard hate each other for a while. Well, Richard hates Paul, Paul doesn’t mind Richard, he’s just waiting for him to come back to him cause that’s usually how first meetings go for him.

Later on, as they start to talk, Paul confides in Richard (after apologizing) that he understands what Richard felt and that he had attempted before as well. Being able to hear everyone’s thoughts and feel their emotions is horrible when you first start out, and is incredibly overwhelming. Over time, Richard and him end up connecting pretty well. Richard still hates the mind reading thing (so does Till), but despite the differences, they’re friends.

Paul can also temporarily slow/reverse time in a certain limit around him. Maybe like, 15-20 foot radius? For about 30 seconds? Let’s say Till decided to use his pyromancy towards him, Paul can decide to halt it and slow it, or it can begin to reverse itself. Richard sends out some hellhounds, Paul can cause them to slow way down once they get close so he can duck around them and hurry off somewhere else.  

Flake, despite the hatred of being around people, is actually a pretty great guy once he warms up to you. He’s someone you can have a good cry with but also, he can absolutely fuck up your whole day. I’d think since he can do cloaking spells, he’d understand spells about portals and rifts. To make something ‘invisible’ (AKA, their house), he’s more so just shifting the dimensions people can see, making it into one that they can’t. And sometimes, you got to yeet your idiot friends through portals to somewhere safe cause they don’t know when to shut the hell up. One of my inspirations for his powers was the music video to the song Falling to Pieces by David Guetta, specifically around the 2:55 mark. I’d imagine that, instead of getting obliterated like the people in the music video, it more that he’s shifting every part of that person into different portals/dimensions. I mean, technically, yeah, they die. BUT HEY, who can say they died via getting blasted through different portals and shifts down to a molecular level? Flake can’t do it a lot obviously. It’s hard enough opening one or two portals, so to pull a stunt like that could kill him if he isn’t careful enough. So many times everyone has had to be like FLAKE NO HEY CHILL WE ARE OKAY DON’T DO THAT.

I imagine Flake and Paul have been friends since they were teenagers, so they watched each other’s powers develop. Once Paul starts figuring his powers out, it starts becoming too much. Flake tries his best to be supportive and encourage him and keep him sane, but Paul can feel how much he’s scaring Flake and making him worry. Paul finally tries to end it (in a similar fashion to Richard, so they have matching scars which is another bonding point for them), but Flake finds him in time. However, Flake hasn’t quite got his healing abilities down yet, but the fear and adrenaline of losing his best friend is what flips the switch to finally allow him to completely channel it. Paul heals up and startles back into reality and is like “EXCUSE ME, I THOUGHT YOU COULDN’T DO THAT” and Flake is shaking him like, “YOU DUMBASS IF YOU EVER DIE IM GOING TO KILL YOU.”

 Ollie: My tall boi. I’m thinking he’s part wood elf. His magic is based off of using the environment such as tree roots or trees, manipulating and summoning eco life around him. Wanna get beat by a root system? Ollie is your guy. His powers are kinda like Till, but not as animal heavy. I know there’s a word for this magic too but my ass cannot remember it for the life of me. He’s probably one of the rarest of the bunch to spot, but unlike Till or Flake, he doesn’t put up much of a fight when it comes to seeing people or going out. People are intimidated by him cause, I mean, this fucker is 6’7 and came out of the woods like some magical sasquatch lumberjack.

But he’s very down to earth (Pun intended). Ollie crafts armor or blades in his spare time. Sometimes he’ll join Till at the market and sell his stuff or take commissions from anyone who needs new weapons/armor, or if they need anything repaired. He knows how to lace objects with magic so it can do a better job with protection or heighten the users own abilities. Ollie is able to know what’s happening in his neck of the woods. He lives in the deepest part of the forest, Richard isn’t too far from him actually. But Ollie’s area is more of a calm area of the woods, not the spooky ass weird area Richard stays in.  Ollie has way more ALIVE deer, first off. No wendigos. What a difference.

I don’t know how to phrase this without it sounding dumb as hell, but basically he talks to trees. He can tap his magic into the systems of the trees and plants and pick up on conversations miles away from him. The trees become his eyes and ears, if that makes sense. It’s never super sharp or in focus (Dream like maybe?), but he’ll know when you’ve entered his section of the woods. He can sometimes tell roughly how many, and catch snippets of your conversations. He’ll make sure to keep an eye on you.

Schneider: My boy. I’m thinking he’s a witch mage kinda guy who has visions and predictions. He fucking loves crystals, tarot cards, special odds and ends, things like that. Reading the stars kinda guy. Schneider actually gets called in by the king or whomst the fuck ever is running this world I’m coming up with, to predict the futures of queens incoming babies, wars, decision making, yadda yadda. He’s hella guidance and damn good at what he does. His visions are never in perfect clarity, but with the aid of his other doodads and such, he can give you a pretty good estimate. He’s like Turbo Tax, but with life choices.

I’m thinking his powers would probably be something along the lines of a copy cat? He can usually tell what your about to do a few seconds before you do it. Somethings are super easy for him to predict (like a punch), other things are harder (complicated magic). I think he might fit under the title Warlock with a Vestige pact? Where the souls/echos of his ancestors that have passed on stay with him. They’re the ones that help him see glimpses into the future make sure he’s protected. They’re also why he can replicate (roughly) most spells that are done towards him. For example: If Paul tried to levitate something and toss it at him, there’s a chance that someone before Schneider, in his linage, had some kind of knowledge of that form of magic. If Schneider reacts fast enough, he can reverse uno that shit back at Paul or toss it somewhere else. Sometimes, it’s more of a canceling effect. So, if Richard tried to resurrect something to attack him, he could undo the resurrection spell, making the dead thing fall back apart, since you can’t double bring something back to life.

Him and Richard went through a similar process to gain their abilities. Richard is a host and dealt with/is dealing with being possessed, and Schneider is temporily possessed/influenced by his ancestors when needed. For a bit, they’re tense around each other cause both felt they were better than the other. Schneider felt like Richard “cheated” to gain his necromancy powers, while Richard is pissed that Schneider had it “so easy” compared to what he went through.

Like Paul and Richard, Schneider and Richard finally have a sit down and Schneider admits his whole ritual/process of gaining his abilities.

To gain access to all the souls/echos, Schneider had to ‘live’ through each ones most painful times via his visions. So, easily 100+ memories that he has to go through in one go. No stopping, feeling/seeing/hearing everything that happened to these people, one at a time. Sometimes it’s their deaths, sometimes it’s a fight or injury, sometimes is verbal things. It totally wrecks with a persons mind and body. A lot of times, the people who go through this process don’t make it because they try and kill themselves afterwards or during. If they stop the line of visions, they cannot ever be started again. They usually develop a severe fever and cold chills, and the process can take several days. So if the fever or themselves don’t kill them, they might make it. So him and Richard bond over that.

I know it sounds stupid, but Schneider lives in a cave. Once you enter, it’s lined with different crystals, crystal balls, dices, maps, star charts, ornate rugs on the floor, silks all over the place, just really nice and cozy.

Overall, each one could work together and combine powers. Examples include: Richard and Till combining Richard Necromancy and Till’s Pyromancy to create a physical embodiment of hell and scare the absolute shit out of anyone.

Ollie (Controlling trees/roots) and Till (connections with animals and mythical beasts) deciding to just use a whole ass forest all that lives in it to really fuck up someone’s day.

Schneider and Paul staying 50 plus steps ahead of the game. Even more so, could Schneider have Paul slow time so he could have a better chance of knowing what’s about to happen/copy a spell?

Flake and Paul working together to slow time, then open portals for enemies to run head first into at last second.

There’s some other ways but there’s a few! I’m so sorry this is so long.

[xadoheandterra]

Series: Semblance Title: Patriciate Fandom: Jak and Daxter Chapters: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI | XII | XIII | XIV | XV | XVI Characters: Jak, Daxter, Samos, Keira, Kid!Jak, Ashelin, Torn, Tess Tags: Worldbuilding, Accidentally King of Haven!Jak, hurt/comfort, things go wrong, things get better, things get worse again, slow build, slow burn, slow to update, cross posted, fantasy racism, canon divergence, been meaning to share this here Summary: “It’s yours,” Jak said softly. “Keep it…remember where you come from. At least one of us should remember….”

If Jak knew the consequences of that one, selfish choice...well, he'd probably have made the same decision either way.

Jak breathed out a slow sigh of relief when the burn of dark eco finally worked its way out of his system. He rubbed his temples in a vain hope to push back the throbbing migraine the shift back gave him, and straightened his back slowly. He could hear his spine pop, and in a way the sound felt like music to his ears. Jak twitched his neck from side to side, and tried to return his focus to the world around him. 

“JAK! LOOK OUT!” Daxter screeched. Jak jerked his head up in time to see the remains of Kor begin to crash down into the ground. The head of the metal head queen bashed right into the active rift ring. Jak cursed. He twisted around to dodge and saw the kid, free of the bubble Kor put him in. 

“Precursors!” Jak hissed between his teeth. He dove for the kid and the stone, and then rolled them both out of the way. The body crashed down scant inches from Jak’s back and knocked the stone from his hand. It bounced and came to a stop a few feet away; dust and metal head remains, practically showered Jak in dirt and grime when the body fell. When the destruction stopped Jak pushed himself upward. He looked down at the kid, who stared back with wide eyes.

“You okay?” Jak rasped, ears slanted in concern. The kid nodded quickly and gave Jak a thumbs up. Jak sighed. “Oh thank the precursors.”

“Yeah, let’s thank the guys who got us in this situation in the first place,” Daxter grumbled. He wriggled his way out from under Jak’s leg. “Yes, let’s thank them. Let’s not worry about Daxter who just got squished by your big ass. You ain’t light you know! And I’m small!”

Jak chuckled. “Sorry Dax. You okay?”

Daxter shot Jak a grin back and waved his hand tiredly. “Nah, I’m good. Let’s just not do that again.”

Jak nodded once. He stood to his feet and dusted off his knees, then reached down to help the kid up and check him over. He couldn’t find any wounds, no scrapes. It honestly looked like Kor didn’t bother to hurt the child given everything, but Jak decided not to look a gift yakow in the mouth. Instead he just smiled, a sort of half quirk of his lips, and rubbed at the kids head.

“Glad you were out for most of that,” Jak murmured. “Pretty scary stuff there.”

The kid nodded, and then looked over to the stone. Jak turned to help out Daxter. He checked over his friend—even if Daxter said that nothing broke Jak needed to be certain. It didn’t help that, despite a year of having Daxter on his shoulder, Jak still worried the dark eco aura he gave out and how it might affect the teen-turned-ottsel.

“I’m fine, Jak. Quit ya fussin’,” Daxter grumbled. He shoved Jak’s hand off of his head and scampered up Jak’s leg with practiced ease. Jak sighed in relief.

“Good,” the teen mumbled.

“’Sides, I’m the hero, remember?” Daxter cheered, and Jak’s lips quirked back up.

“That you are, Dax,” Jak agreed.

Neither teen noticed the kid toddle on over to the Precursor stone at first, not until little hands touched the crystalline shape and a flash of light swallowed the world. Jak paused. His breath hitched; the light felt warm and safe and a part of him hadn’t realized that warm and safe weren’t things he’d felt anymore. At first he closed his eyes, fought back the feeling of tears that threatened to overwhelm him. Then the light left, along with it the feeling, and Jak found himself hollow, drawn out and carved thin. His throat felt dry, and he opened his eyes to find the source of the distburance—

The rest of whatever breath Jak had left him in a rush of, “Oh man…a Precursor,” spoke so faint that Daxter alone probably heard what he said. The kid backed up, stared at the glowing, tall elfin being. Jak quickly wrapped a hand around the child’s shoulder to steady him. Both stared in awe at the creature with identical looks. Even Daxter found himself struck oddly silent.

The Precursor tilted its head. There weren’t eyes, but it glowed like a miniature sun of pure eco. A second’s pause settled between the four before it even started to speak. It’s ��voice’ reminded Jak of the Oracle in the water slums, of the idols back before the invasion that he’d romped around with, with Daxter. It sounded rough, but understanding. Cryptic, but clear. Jak couldn’t breathe.

“It is finished…” the Precursor rumbled, and Jak swallowed heavily through his dry throat. “Our ancient enemy is no more.” Kor, the thing meant Kor. Precursors Jak felt a bit faint at the thought. He’d finished an ancient war; not once, in all this time, Jak thought about the fact that the war with the metal heads went on for far longer than Haven’s history. He ducked his head and pressed his lips.

He’d ended a war.

“Take hope brave one!” the Precursor continued and Jak’s brow furrowed. “The terrible darkness inside you is now balanced by a glorious light.” At the word ‘darkness’ Jak snapped his head up. As the Precursor continued he felt himself pale. A light? No, within him Jak felt no light. Dark eco; all the remained, even now—the things that the Baron did to him. The pain. The suffering. His limbs burned with the substance faintly even in his day to day life. Jak breathed out slowly. The Precursor; it was wrong.

For a moment Jak got the feeling that the Precursor frowned at him, like it sensed his thoughts and was disappointed. It felt like all of the beings hard work, all of its guidance over the years—the years in Sandover and then the year here of fighting and bleeding and hard work—meant nothing if Jak didn’t listen. Jak licked his lips, opened his mouth to apologize, but the being shook its head.

“We will meet again,” it promised. The words rang almost ominously in the air before it turned and flew straight into the rift gate.

From his shoulder Daxter hunkered down. His ears shifted flat and he glanced to Jak. “Weeeeell…” he dragged out slowly. “That happened.”

Jak nodded, gaze focused on the ring, eyes wide. He didn’t notice when Brutter’s lurker balloon landed down with Keira, Samos, and Samos. The rift rider thankfully remained intact during the journey, and when Jak did notice—after a yell of, “Jak!” from Keira—he felt thankful that the thing survived at all. Thankful, and sad.

He glanced down to the kid.

“Jak, we haven’t much time!” Keira said quickly. She moved into his space and Jak frowned. He glanced from her to the ring and noticed how little of it seemed left. No, there really wasn’t any time left, was there? “I’ve set the coordinates back to our village. Let’s go home, everyone!”

Jak didn’t want to burst Keira’s bubble. A part of him longed for it, longed for the beach of Sandover and the simplicity of life—longed for what had been and not what was now. He couldn’t have it though. Not anymore. Not after everything that he’d done, seen, faced. Jak looked down at his hands, and then at the kid who looked back up at him.

Could he condemn a child to the future that awaited him? Could he give the boy a scant few years of happiness, knowing that when he was fourteen he’d come here, to this hell and suffer at the hands of those who should have known better? To face Erol and Praxis and to become a killer and a monster? Jak closed his eyes, he breathed out slowly.

“Keira…” he said, voice soft. The roughness of it eased away as he thought. “We are home.”

‘Dax, this…horrible place. It’s…our world!’

Jak grimaced and then slipped past Keira before she could say anything more. He tuned out Samos arguing with himself and instead helped the Kid hop up onto the platform that held the rift rider. He gave the boy a small, almost sad smile.

“You stay safe when you’re there, okay?” Jak murmured. “Remember to protect this scrawny little blabber mouth that you’ll meet. You’ll know him when you see him, and he’ll need you as much as you’ll need him.” The kid nodded his head, face set into serious lines that Jak himself wore.

“Hey!” Daxter whined and when Jak arched an eyebrow in his direction he mumbled petulantly, “’m not scrawny.”

“Sure you aren’t, Dax,” Jak chuckled softly. His ears twitched as he noted that the conversation between the two Samos’ almost grew to a close, especially when Keira started to chime in entirely confused about the situation. He glanced to Daxter, who gave a short nod, and then the ottsel darted off to help continue to distract the three just long enough that Jak could finish his goodbye.

Jak’s attention drew back to his younger self when he heard a snap of the cord from around the kid’s neck. The kid held out the seal to Jak, eyes wide and face stern. Jak stared down at it. This, this was his. This was something that was a sign of who he was, that he was the heir to this city. Jak swallowed. Did he want it? Did he want that responsibility?

No. No, it wasn’t fair to take it. Jak closed his eyes and swallowed resolutely. He reached out and curled the child’s fingers back around the seal. He shook his head softly and opened his eyes. The kid looked up at him, confused.

“It’s yours,” Jak said softly. “Keep it…remember where you come from. At least one of us should remember….”

The kid stared down at the amulet, and then back up at Jak. He nodded resolutely and tucked it under his overalls. Jak smiled, and then blinked.

“Oh! Right, and stay away from any whumpbee nests on your ninth birthday,” Jak added quickly.

“Yeah! That wasn’t fun!” Daxter chimed in. He jumped back up onto Jak’s shoulder.

“And whose fault was it that we even got in that mess in the first place?” Jak shot back, arms crossed over his chest.

“Well I don’t know why ya lookin at me like that,” Daxter replied absentmindedly, but Jak could read the faint hint of nervousness in his best friends face.

“Sure you don’t,” Jak chuckled.

“Now boys! Enough yammering! My younger self has to get going before it’s too late!” Samos interrupted, ambling over to whack both Jak and Daxter over the heads with his stick. Jak jerked and rubbed at the spot with a scowl. Apparently not even saving the world, again, got him free from getting whacked over the head by Samos.

Jak backed away from the rift rider and gave a nod to the small kid, who nodded back before he climbed up onto the seat, the younger Samos already settled down. Jak watched them leave, a small part of him sad. He knew what future awaited the child, and a part of him wished he just stopped this before it even began.

“It’s funny,” Samos murmured from next to Jak, “but he won’t remember any of it.”

Jak glanced to Samos out of the corner of his eye. “No…” he mumbled. “I remember the light.”

Maybe he would remember more than just that. Jak hoped so.

It’d been a while before Jak exhaustedly got back to Haven. Exiting the nest had to take time; Jak and Daxter needed to protect Keira, Brutter, and Samos on their way out. Metal heads, even without Kor, were still a vicious threat and attacked on sight; although now they were uncoordinated. They had to rest frequently, curled up in hidden alcoves once they were free of the dank, twisted caverns that Kor built up. Samos hadn’t aged well and if Jak knew anything he knew that he couldn’t push Samos. Besides, Keira would have his head if he even tried.

Most nights, as they worked themselves back within communications range, Jak spent awake with Daxter snoozing away in his lap. His morph gun rested against his shoulder within easy reach just in case any metal heads surfaced while Brutter, Samos, Keira, and Daxter slept. He spent those hours with his eyes focused out on the world, watching, and his fingers gently carding through Daxter’s fur. The few times where he did sleep, he only did so when he felt assured in their safety. Even then Jak didn’t sleep for long, only an hour or two before he went back to his watch.

When they reached Mar’s gun Jak paused for rest. Daxter pulled out Ashelin’s communicator and tried to hail the Underground, tried to hail Ashelin, anyone. They were met with static and silence and a part of Jak worried that the metal heads inside Haven had taken over. Without Kor they weren’t organized, but there still remained a veritable hoard within the city when Jak left. Lips pressed thin, feeling the despondency of his companions, Jak decided they should press onward. They air train had dropped him off a ways away and maybe they’d be able to contact someone there, or even better maybe someone already sent it on ahead to await their return.

They found the site empty, no air train, nothing but torn up ground and metal heads. Jak made quick work of the beasts and focused on the others. He built up a basecamp against the craggy rock, double checked their rations with Daxter, and set up a round where everyone would give a go at the communicator in hour intervals. They just had to wait, Jak thought. Someone would come for them. The fact that Samos agreed with him at least rallied Keira to his side. Brutter didn’t doubt him one bit, and Daxter—Daxter rambled in the way he did when worried.

It took three days more before communications came back. Three days of hardly sleeping, three days spent checking the perimeter Jak set up and rationing off the rations he had with him. By the time three days passed everyone, even Samos, began to feel like they’d been abandoned. Then the communicator, for the first time, gave something other than static.

“Jak? Jak can you read me?” Ashelin’s voice came through. It crackled and popped and some of the words were dropped, but the basics of what she asked where clear.

Jak snapped up the communicator from Keira, whose turn it was to try and get into contact, and responded. “Ashelin. What the hell is going on?”

“The communications tower was hit sometime after you went into the nest,” Ashelin said through broken static. “We couldn’t be sure you were alive until we got it back up. It’s good to hear your voice.”

“Yeah,” Jak mumbled. “Kor’s dead.”

For a moment there remained silence, and then suddenly instead of Ashelin it was Torn. “Are you certain?”

“Yeah,” Jak growled out. “I have his head if you want proof.”

“…no, I’ll trust your word on this. It explains the sudden erratic behavior of the mess in the city.” There was a pause where Jak breathed out a sigh of relief. “How are you holding up?”

“Low on rations,” Jak said. “We’ve also got Keira, Samos, and Brutter here.”

“The Shadow’s with you!?”

Jak paused. He’d almost forgotten that Samos, the younger Samos, was the mysterious ‘Shadow’ that lead the Underground.

“Er, yeah,” Jak mumbled. “I thought you knew?”

“No! We’d been searching for him for days. For Mar’s sake, what was he thinking?!”

Before Jak could even answer Samos grabbed the communicator out of his hand and decided to voice his own response, words filled with the condescension Jak and Daxter were so familiar with.

“I was thinking that I had important matters to take care of once Kor was dead! Matters that could only be handled in the nest!” Samos ground out. “Matters such as specifically ensuring that young Jak got to a place of safety so that he could grow up to eventually save this city!”

“Jak’s there with you,” Torn said, voice pitched low. Jak winced. “What in Mar’s name are you talking about?”

“Are you that blind, Commander?” Samos grumbled. “Even I noticed the similarities when I first saw them together!”

“You did?!” Jak blurted out suddenly. “You never thought to tell me?”

“I knew you’d learn the truth if you just opened your eyes,” Samos grumbled back. “But of course you’d forget what I told you. In one ear and out the other, never listening to your elders!”

Jak scrubbed a hand through his hair and growled back, “Well telling me ‘find yourself, Jak!’ was extremely cryptic given the circumstances.”

“It was perfectly clear!” Samos defended.

“Perfectly clear my a—”

Ashelin, at some point, apparently got hold of the communicator again because her voice wafted over sharp and clear, interrupting Jak before he could even finish the sentence. “Explain. Now.”

“Jak is the heir to the city,” Samos said bluntly. “The child we protected was sent to the past to keep him safe from his enemies. He grows up to be the,” here Samos harrumphed out of annoyance, “hero to save Haven from Kor and the metal heads.”

There was a moment’s pause, and then, “Can you prove it?”

“Of course! Jak has the seal to the House of Mar, don’t you Jak?” Samos turned and peered at Jak determinedly. Jak looked away. “Don’t you, Jak?”

Well, shit. Jak hated that voice. Jak hated when Samos used that voice. He winced, and for a moment questioned his own decision to let the kid keep the only thing that was truly his. Maybe it’d been selfish of him, but Jak always wished he had something from his family, something from before living with his ‘uncle’ in Sandover.

“Answer me, boy!” Samos barked out and Jak winced again.

“I…don’t have it,” Jak mumbled. “Must’ve lost it back in Sandover.”

Or, more likely, he never had it in the first place. Jak didn’t tell Samos that, though. Let the old man think he hadn’t, possibly, changed a bit of history on a selfish whim.

Samos, predictably, exploded. “You what?!”

Jak curled in on himself, ears falling back as he let the admonishments wash over him with a grimace on his face. Disappointing Samos had always settled wrong with him, and even know he didn’t like the lecture and the berating that he received. Perhaps he’d never get used to constantly screwing up in the old Sage’s eyes. As Samos continued, Daxter quickly rose to Jak’s defense and suddenly there was a cacophony of noise loud enough to burn his ears. Jak clamped a hand over them in an attempt to drown out the sound, especially as Ashelin and Torn joined in on the conversation.

It was Keira who put a stop to everything. She whistled loudly, loud enough to pierce Jak’s ears and leave them ringing. He almost couldn’t make out what she said, but he followed the flow of the conversation well enough.

“Even if Jak doesn’t have this seal thingy that doesn’t mean he isn’t the…heir…to the city,” Keira said, and she stumbled over the words enough that Jak remembered she hadn’t known who the kid was to the Underground. Despite all the times that Jak had dragged him over to her garage to hide out from KG patrols when he was babysitting not once had he told her about the boy being a, well, a prince.

Fuck. Didn’t that mean Jak was a prince, too? His head hurt from just thinking about it, already with the pounding migraine that threatened to put him flat on his ass from all the yelling earlier. Exhaustion, too, wanted to overtake him. He drowned out the rest of the conversation and settled himself against a wall. He curled down and dug his fingers into his hair, ears pressed back and down. He didn’t want to be the heir to the city. He didn’t want the responsibility. If people knew, if anyone but the Underground knew—Jak feared the consequences. He feared being put into power, being forced to have the lives of thousands on his hands, forced to command people who had so easily before broken, tortured, changed him.

Somehow, through all the arguing and fighting and Keira calming down risen tempers Samos squirreled out of Ashelin and Torn the promise of an air train to come pick them up. At some point Daxter wound his way around Jak’s neck and began soothingly running clawed small fingers through his hair. Keira carefully got Jak up and lead him towards the air train when it arrived, shushed her father, and amidst it all Brutter remained blissfully silent.

At some point, during the ride, Jak passed out.

It was weird to see the city so cheerful when all Jak remembered of it was the oppression and darkness. Heads were down and people shuffled about quickly, determined to get through their business and then return home, out of the watchful eyes of the KG. They kept quiet aside from the sound of zoomers and the KG talking of their radios, or the Baron’s propaganda commentary, the city had always been eerily quiet.

Now, though, it bustled. People cheered and moved freely. They embraced and laughed. They mourned through parties, rejoiced at the end of a war that had spanned centuries. They praised Praxis, Ashelin specifically as the Baron’s death and his crimes had been reported shortly after the clean up—and Jak felt like it’d been a kick to the teeth to find out it’d been a full week and a half before they’d even been thought of and rescued.

Tess had at some point gotten Ashelin to give her the Hip Hog, and then she’d promptly handed it over to Daxter. They’d conspired for a day or two and then the Hip Hog debuted as the Naughty Ottsel with a loud, cheerful celebration of the end of a year of hell. Jak let himself relax, let himself revel in being surrounded by friends and comrades. He tried not to think about his position, his status in regards to the city despite that it followed him around like a lurker shark biding its time for its prey.

As Jak moved back indoors, settled down with Sig and Daxter—Keira and Samos wandered off to another section of the bar with Keira eagerly discussing what she was going to do now that they were going to live in Haven permanently—and Tess brought them a round of drinks. Daxter and Sig started off right away with Daxter telling the epic story of how they defeated Kor for Sig. Each dramatic wave of the ottsel’s hand and each exaggeration of the story brought a smile to Jak’s face as he carefully nursed the drink in front of him.

Jak never drank before. The entire thing felt like a novelty and a taboo all at once. The alcohol burned, but it burned pleasantly unlike the burn of eco that shifted around under his skin and through his muscles. Jak said nothing but Haven hurt. Breathing pained him, the air stagnant and corrupted, touch by the dark eco that the city used as a power source without abandon. Drinking water often burned down his throat, and even spending hours fighting despite that his muscles protested, that his heart and the beat of his own blood felt like fire, took its toll eventually.

The alcohol, amazingly enough, washed away a bit of the pain. It left behind a dull sensation of warmth that Jak sorely missed, but it didn’t fill the empty feeling that burrowed deep in his chest. Still the feeling was pleasant, and a reprieve from the pain. For the first time in a long time Jak felt himself truly relax. He leaned against Sig, let himself just let go of everything. His worries washed away in a pleasant buzz and hum of Daxter’s voice and the warmth of Sig’s skin.

Luck reared its ugly head quickly enough when Ashelin picked her way gingerly over to Jak who dozed lightly against Sig. He felt his job was done, he was done. Ashelin felt otherwise.

“Jak,” Ashelin said carefully. “May I speak with you? In private.”

Jak blinked, and quite suddenly everything came rushing back. He tensed, pulled himself from Sig, and turned to face Ashelin. The pleasant hum of the alcohol beneath his skin kept him at least lightly relaxed, but the realization, the knowledge of what Ashelin probably wanted to speak about, now hovered back into his conscious though.

Daxter, at the table, fell silent. Sig looked at him in concern.

“Now, Jak,” Ashelin said softly. “Please.”

Jak swallowed heavily, nodded once, and got up from the booth.

“You okay, cherry?” Sig asked.

“Want me to come with you?” Daxter perked up, ready to clamber onto Jak’s shoulder. Jak shook his head towards Daxter and told Sig he was fine. Silently he followed Ashelin towards the back. He wasn’t surprised to see Torn there as well, leaned against a table, arms crossed, face set into a scowl.

Jak scrubbed at his face tiredly. The pleasantness of the alcohol left his system in a rush. He held up a hand to stop either of them from talking for a moment. Jak needed to get his bearings straight, his thoughts in order. Show no weakness, show none of the signs that you are afraid. Jak grit his teeth.

“Would you like to sit?” Ashelin asked. She took a seat herself up on the table, legs crossed.

“I’ll stand,” Jak said back and focused his gaze onto the two of them. “What is it.”

Torn huffed. “What is it, he says,” the Commander grumbled. “We need to figure out what to do with this mess.” Torn waved one hand, gesturing at the metaphorical mess he spoke about. “Without the kid the Underground’s claims of being fighting for the people suddenly become the talk of traitors. The kid was the lynch pin, Jak. With him we could be seen as people trying to take back the city.”

“Weren’t you?” Jak shot back, brow furrowed.

“Of course we damn well were!” Torn snapped and slammed his fist down onto the table. “Without a real source of backing though we’re nothing but a bunch of traitors, fighting against Baron Praxis! Even with Ashelin’s support—” Torn cut himself off with a curse.

“What Torn is trying to say,” Ashelin continued, voice even and calm, “is that to the council and nobility I’m not a known ally of the Underground, and they’re quite aware that I’ve been ignorant of the majority of my father’s crimes. Even if I vouch for the Underground the majority will only see the harm they’ve done. Without the heir to the throne they’re nothing more than traitors, and more than a few would be all too happy to pin the blame of the metal head invasion on the Underground’s shoulders. They don’t have a legitimate claim to force change.”

Jak scowled. “But they helped this city!” He waved his hand out, exploding suddenly with anger. “They did what Praxis didn’t. They fought against the metal heads and kept people safe!”

Torn sighed. “It won’t matter. We’re still traitors in their eyes. The most we can hope for is banishment to the wastes and a slow death, the least would be a quick death.”

Jak clenched his fists and grit his teeth. He wanted to say that such a thing wasn’t fair, but he remembered this was Haven. This was Hell. Of course it wouldn’t be fair, of course nothing would be fair here. All those people, everyone in the Underground—Torn, Tess, Samos….Jak breathed out explosively and ran his hands through his hair. He slumped down on himself.

“What can we do?” he asked plaintively, and for all the world he actually looked sixteen, bordering on seventeen. He looked like a lost and confused kid. He didn’t notice when Torn swallowed heavily, or how Ashelin stared at him with wide eyes like they both suddenly saw something that neither expected to see.

For a moment nobody said anything, and then Ashelin spoke up firmly, “We just have to prove you’re the heir to the city.”

Torn twisted, his eyes snapped open wide as Jak’s head jerked up.

“Ashelin you can’t be serious!” Torn growled out. “Anything we do to actually provide irrefutable proof would mean reinstating the—”

Ashelin held up her hand and cut Torn off. “I know what it means, Commander, and if that’s what it takes…” she breathed out slowly. “Perhaps, in the end, it is for the best.”

Jak’s gaze danced between them, lips pressed thin. What would come would come, Jak figured. Right now he had to keep his friends safe, he had to keep the heroes safe, the innocents, and all the people who only wanted to do right by Haven. Jak straightened out, squared his shoulders, and nodded once.

“What do I have to do,” Jak asked, and that was the end of that.

[paintedwithapalette]

Memories of You Ch 4 (snippet)

Naminé stared at her tablet.

It was blank; devoid of life and color. Just a big, blank, white, and empty canvas that begged to be filled with beautiful imagery from the source of the most vibrant of imaginations. Yet Naminé couldn't bring herself to draw a line. She hoped that her lack of glasses was the result of her artist's block, but it seemed that wasn't the case. Her brain was the problem.

Sighing, she decided to put the tablet away and spend a few hours on her laptop. She got onto the floor and under her desk to plug in her charger before hitting her head against the bottom when trying to get up. "Ow!"

As she rubbed her head irritably, she noticed a flyer flutter to the carpet. She recognized the flyer that read "The Castle of Dreams." Most people were aware of the royal ball that happened there almost every year. Naminé used to fantasize about it often. In fact, there was a time when she fantasized about journeying to multiple other worlds. It would have been an excellent form of inspiration for her artwork. Those days were long gone. Travelling seemed like too much of a hassle and scary.

When her stomach groaned for nourishment, Naminé trudged downstairs in the lonely house with Mocchi following close behind. Her tired eyes examined the living room. The couch, the TV, the flower vase with abstract designs, the sectional sofa, and the glass coffee table—they were all frozen in time. But she was used to it. Kairi was always out having a social life and her father was always at work. At least Mocchi kept her company.

She opened the fridge and, to her utter dismay, they were all out of mint and chocolate chip ice cream. Blasphemy! How could she dare watch cartoons without ice cream? She surmised with great remorse that she would just have to call and ask Kairi to bring some back for her. After closing the fridge, she saw a plate wrapped in aluminum foil with a sticky note attached to it.

For Naminé. Fixed some lunch for you. Just heat it up in the microwave and it should be good to go. Call me if you need me to bring you anything back while I'm out. I'll be home to make dinner later. Love you lots xoxo

P.S. Don't forget to brush your teeth!

There was no name attached but Naminé took a wild guess at who the culprit was.

As naggy and nosey as her sister could be, Naminé still loved and appreciated her with all her heart. In fact, she regretted getting snippy at her that morning. After everything Kairi had done, all the unappreciative Naminé could do was yell at her for trying to help. She was almost like a second mother to her.

Naminé paused when she realized she used the "M" word.

It was hard to believe it had already been almost six years. She could still feel her soothing touch that seemed to have a knack for healing emotional scars. She still heard her gentle voice that eased her anxiety. She still saw the warmth of her smile. She still remembered when she was five-years-old, sitting at the top of a loopy waterslide in the secure embrace of her mother, tears streaming down her cheeks. It looked fun, but it also looked scary. Kairi had already slid down fearlessly, but Naminé was never as brave as her sister. But it was her mother who wiped her tears away and scolded her for comparing herself to anyone else but herself. It was enough to give Naminé the courage to go down the slide, not because Kairi did it, but because it looked fun.

She wondered what her mother would say to her if she were alive to see what became of her.

"Stop that," Serah said in a chastising voice in response to the young Naminé berating herself. "I don't ever want to hear you comparing yourself to anyone, little one. Not to me. Not to your father. And certainly not your sister. Kairi is Kairi. You are you. Never forget who you are. Fear is just our minds playing tricks on us. Always remember that when you're in my arms, with every bone in my body, I will keep you safe. Am I understood?"

Even if she was gone, it still felt like she was there. She would be supportive but disappointed to see what a cowardly mess the artist had become. This was something simple. It was a mere walk to the store. It might have taken time for her to be truly confident in herself but Kairi was right. She had to at least try.

Her mother would give her strength.

After twenty-five minutes of internal conflict and contemplating her actions, Naminé finally decided to muster up the courage to walk to the convenience store down the street and pick up some ice cream. She stood at the front door of her house dressed in an oversized baby pink sweater and baggy sweatpants. Her body was stiff from head to toes.

"O-Okay, Mocchi," she said, turning to the kitten that watched her a few feet away with curious eyes. "Here I go."

Naminé reached for the doorknob with a shaky hand, feeling the inside of her body become hotter the further she reached, before withdrawing her arm instantly.

"You know what? Who needs ice cream, anyway?" Naminé began to undress. "I can just call Dad and he can stop by the convenience store on his way back from work and—"

She froze when she caught what she interpreted as an intense stare from Mocchi and bit her lip. "You're never going to overcome your fears if you don't take the first step," Mocchi said. Her voice happened to be high-pitched and nasally but Naminé found there was something endearing about it that kept it from being annoying.

Naminé sighed, putting her sweater back on. "Yes, I know," she muttered. "I should get this over with, shouldn't I?"

Naminé stared at the door. Why was she making this so much more difficult than it had to be? A trip for a tub of ice cream should not have been that hard. She was just outside a few days before. She could do it again, couldn't she? But she also had Kairi with her at the time. This time, it was just Naminé. It felt like the door stood ten feet over her, belittling her for her cowardice.

But this was the first step. She would never be able to recover if she kept closing herself out from the real world. She just had to do it and get it over with. And maybe cry into her pillow for a few hours after the fact.

She took in a deep breath and gently let it out to alleviate her anxiety. She gave Mocchi a final, almost dramatic look. "Wish me luck!" she said before muttering, "And get started on writing my will."

Reluctantly, she opened the door to the outside world.

It was a sunny day in Destiny Islands. The air was fresh. The clouds were a little grey, but the temperature was warmer than she expected. The sweater began to feel like overkill. But she didn't care. It was better than showing off her pale arms.

She walked briskly. She paid no mind to the decently populated area and made sure to keep all eye contact to a minimum. There was only the goal: ice cream. It would be a quick, easy, and painless journey for her sweet, sugary goodness.

Then she heard a rumble. And then another rumble. Then something wet splashed against her forehead and trailed down the ends of her chin before splashing against the sandy pavement.

Soon enough, Naminé braced herself for the incoming downpour from the clouds. In a matter of seconds, the introverted recluse was drenched beneath the tears of the sky. She realized that the oversized sweater went from being overkill to laughably underwhelming. She noticed others that were outside on their joyous strolls around town scurried back to whatever hole they came from, but Naminé was already halfway to the store. She wasn't going to give up, despite the fact she was disgusted by the areas in which she felt water infiltrating her body at the moment.

She contracted her upper half as she pressed forward, wincing at the sudden rush of wind blowing at her with a mighty howl. How could such a warm, sunny day turn into one full of rage and ferocity in such a short amount of time? Naminé wondered if getting out of the house upset the balance of the universe and caused a rift in the timeline.

The longer she walked, the harder it became, and the more she felt her fatigue kicking in. She considered turning around multiple times but ultimately pushed forward. She was not going to allow fear to decide her future any longer and the rain wasn't going to stop her.

At long last, after what just felt like a hike up Mount Olympus, she reached the convenience store. With long-winded steps, she inched closer and closer to the store and was ready to go inside. She had come this far. Nothing was going to weaken her resolve now.

That's what she thought, at least, until she saw Roxas standing by the counter talking to an unfamiliar face.

If there was anything worse than being susceptible to the public scrutiny of strangers, it was running into somebody she already knew and started to feel the conflict of whether she should approach them or avoid all unnecessary contact. Of course he would be there. Why did she expect any less? Naminé quickly pushed herself against the wall next to the door before he could see her. It just wasn't her day.

For a split-second, she considered running away and forgetting the day ever happened. But she knew she couldn't go out like that. This wasn't about ice cream or the fact that she was shivering like a wet dog. This was about proving to herself that she could overcome obstacles.

She shut her eyes tight, preparing herself mentally, before quickly pushing the door open. She made a quick glance over at Roxas and he almost seemed upset. The guy he was talking to wore a beanie and had a scar trailing down the bridge of his nose. She quickly covered the side of her eyes as she made her way to the freezers in the back before Roxas could notice her. The store was rather small, so she could overhear some of their ongoing conversation.

"Snap out of it, Roxas," the scarred stranger said. "I'm sick of hearing about this gummi ship bullshit. Ain't that a bit beneath you? We got more important things to worry about. We need you on the team."

Roxas didn't spare him a glance as he leaned against the counter while the clerk scanned the few items he had. "Sorry, Seifer. Hate to disappoint you, but it's not my calling. It's not my destiny."

"It ain't about destiny anymore," Seifer snapped. "This is about the greater good. Look man, I hate to admit it, but you're one of the most talented guys in Destiny Islands. Maybe the galaxy. You can't squander your gifts for some cheap seventh-grade fantasy. What do you think your father would say?"

Roxas chuckled, though it sounded humorless. He thanked the clerk and took his small plastic bag from the counter. "Well, you know what they say. Better safe than losing your soul trying to live up to the legacy of someone who had a thing for crossdressing. They do say that, right?"

Seifer grabbed him by the arm. "This isn't a joke. It's time to face the real world and grow up."

Roxas, beginning to lose his patience, shirked his arm away. "Funny, I was just about to say the same thing to you."

While the two boys were locked in a glaring contest, Naminé placed two tubs of mint and chocolate chip ice cream on the counter. Thankfully, Roxas' back was turned to her. But he wasn't leaving. It seemed like he was going to wait out on the rain, which made Naminé internally groan even more. She placed ten munny on the counter, not even aware of the concerned look of the girl operating the register. She asked if Naminé was okay and she, not wanting her voice to be heard by a certain someone, nodded.

However, she wasn't okay. In fact, she could feel her head getting heavier and her skin getting clammier. Suddenly, things started to get fuzzier... and darker... and hazier... until she collapsed on the floor with a very noticeable thud.

The few stragglers in the store waiting for the rain to simmer down, Seifer, Roxas, and the clerk included, noticed the sporadic turn of events with the utmost amount of concern and immediately rushed to Naminé's side.

Roxas kneeled down to his knees and lifted the upper half of her limp body. The good news was that the girl was breathing, but she was out cold. It only took him a second longer to recognize the familiar face and become horrified.

"Naminé?"

[readbythestarlight]

c2e84

Wow, that was a surpassingly normal ad!

Oh boy here we go lore drop!

Therizdune the chained oblivion who is chained at the bottom of the abyss

"He’s basically the boogeyman" if the boogeyman was a HORRIBLE ELDRITCH MONSTER

...IS the boogeyman a horrible eldritch monster?! Oh god.

[[MORE]]

This is great and awful like terrible abyssal eldritch things that can creep into the world through gaps and rifts encourages people to be violent and awful

Also I’m so satisfied that the chains actually ended up being significant

Okay so Yussah knows a guy who we know knows Trent, so... that’s not cool. I mean o totally trust Yussah now it’s not that, it’s just can we trust Ormid?

So not all the Cerberus assembly is bad re: Yussah. But like he’s basically a hermit living in his tower, yeah? Who doesn’t go into the Empire? So like how out of touch is he?

"Trent seems just creepy" that’s putting it mildly

Money? Ball bearings? xD

Oh nice some of the Halas money

Oh Nott honey

Fjord being like "Nott? Caleb please talk to your goblin."

And they’re just all discussing it in the background

NOTT DO NOT

oh boy don’t like that

Oh dear...

"Your FACE is stupid" oh Nott

Lock the gem away somewhere

"You’ll still work at it and try?" Oh honey of course he will

I like how they handled that. They didn’t put Nott down, they gently reminded her that Halas can’t be trusted.

Oh I hope that doesn’t trigger Caleb

And I hope that didn’t just fuck them over with Halas maybe

Cad’s like "can we not?" and then just silencing everyone who keeps trying to talk to him

Y’all need to call your OTHER wizard friend (aka HOTT BOI) to let him know you’re fine and not dead or anything cause this is probably the longest he’s gone without hearing from you

"Everything’s been smoothed over" I wonder if Dairon had anything to do with that

I wonder where she is...

Also this is late cause he said it like ages ago but I love Cad’s little bits of homely wisdom, like the whole holes in a bucket metaphor.

PLATINUMMMMMMM

A WHOLE SATCHEL

TIME TO BUY A KEEP Y’ALL

Kidding I like the xhorhaus

Holy SHIT

21,000 gold??

That puts them at 350 platinum which is like 3,500 apiece NICE

Please def check in with Orli I miss him

I’m gonna insist they all get either matching M9 tattoos or Captain tusktooth tattooes

ORLIIIII

Oh my

Yeah a charisma bump is a good choice Nott xD

YOU ALL BETTER GET MATCHING TATTOOS

"chaos crew" lol

Imagine the stories those "new faces" have heard of the M9 from the older crew

1312 gold not bad!

Fuck y’all I love Orli! I missed him. I hope Fjord retires and goes back to sailing with Orli and the crew someday.

F: "Can I ask, how painful is this... procedure?"

O: "oh-ho-ho! Quite."

Oh lord

B: "Is that infected? Is that infected?!"

O: "No, he’s just a.....................Pansy."

Girls day!

Ohhh I like that idea Nott! Can’t wait to see the new art of that.

I like the start of the idea but the "like the Traveler’s hugging me" is slightly creepy to me. Idk.

BeauJester shippers just got a gift xD

Oh... Molly’s all seeing eye tattoo. My heart. Taliesin looks really touched.

Omg a nat1

Ouch fuck Matt you didn’t have to describe that

Matt’s like "here’s your pretty tattoo Nott, here’s your very lovely tattoo Jester, here’s your TOTALLY BOMBASS tattoo that goes all the way up the BACK OF YOUR SKULL Beau"

like I’m not saying Matt plays favorites but his wife’s character definitely got the coolest tattoo

Boy talk over fish and chips heck yeah

Mmm gonna get some deep talk from Caleb?

Caleb expressing that he feels like maybe they’ve been brought together for a purpose <3

Cad telling him he’s believed Caleb was meant for something important since the beginning

Caleb the green bean farmer

"The god’s plant us, plant their will and their desire, and we move towards the fruit we’re meant for bear for them." Aw that’s... sweet, Cad.

Fjord being like "idk man I’m still figuring it out" what a mood

Caleb admitting he feels like he should run away

"I have started to forget what it was like not being with you people. And we are missing one, I am stuck on the fact that we are still missing one."

I wish I was fast enough to transcribe word for word this conversation because it’s excellent

I like Fjord’s question of "when you know, do you run away or do the right thing knowing it could kill you"

C: "You two are alright."

Cad: "We’re getting better."

F: "So are you, you know, you should give yourself credit."

C: "Mm..."

Cad: "I know... just think about it."

(Wow my old Widofjord feelings just came back with a vengeance.)

Cad adding in his own encouraging words about how Caleb is growing and becoming better made me happy too

C: "I hate tattoos."

Nott in the distance: AHHHH

C: "they’re just not for me."

Cad: "they’re frowned upon in my family."

And then they go see the girls

"We brought fish and chips—what they fuck"

All the Jester ships are eating well tonight

I’m so glad Jester finally got her cool tattoo

Y’all don’t want to see mom and Yeza and Luc?

lol Jester "I didn’t tell my mom about the tattoo"

"I’ve seen parents find out their kids had tattoos literally at the funeral"

I literally could not tell if that was Cad or Taliesin sharing

You guys didn’t even say bye to Orli! YOU MONSTERS

Boy that talks blurb with Brian talk about Caleb is GOOD SHIT MAN

No Brian don’t stop please go on and on about Caleb

lol Matt getting himself in the face with the paper

I knew Dairon was the one who got them out of trouble <3

EXPOSITOR OUTFIT AYYYY

just got new official art and now Beau gets a new outfit and the girls get tattoos xD

B: "I apologize"

M9: "wwwwwoooooaaaaahhh"

And library access again yay!

HEYYYY DAIRON

Beau gets to be a role model now lol

Oh yikes... selling out the Kryn to the King... don’t like that

Vence... NewTHEYLESS??

I don’t like that

Everyone: *excited freaking about Beau’s expositor room*

Cad, a good 10 seconds behind: "You had a monk bunk."

Dairon admitting she realized her prejudices against the Kryn were wrong. You know what that is? Growth.

They’re all so proud of Expositor Beau

Caleb trying to do "normal" accents is amazing lol

I don’t want him to be split from the group but I definitely understand his concern

Scary world ending lore oh boy

Oh god I forgot about the gentleman being here...

YES NO DO NOT GO ALONE that’s a dumb idea honey Jester please

N about J: "well she convides in everybody. Just says whatever she wants to say all the time."

This whole Beau and Nott conversation is amazing xD

Fjord and Jester: talking

Beau and Nott: talking

Caduceus walking along and enjoying the group communicating and sharing their feelings

Is he an earth genasi?

That’s the second time another wizard has called Yussah a fool, poor guy

I like how Ormid’s like "who the fuck are these people" but he also trusts Yussah enough to listen to them that’s nice

Hmmm I don’t like that’s awfully suspicious

WHISPERSSSSS

He keeps coming back to the beacon and I don’t like it

So like.. what if he is in on the whole thing and is trying to steer them away from looking deeper into the beacon?

Jester honey why you go and name drop Trent?? Like fuck.

Also interesting that both the King and his council have been more aggressive and pro-war lately, and the Bright Queen is also bent on the conflict in a way that I’ve personally felt doesn’t seem to quite mesh with her character, it definitely lends towards the idea that they’re being manipulated

Ormid’s a bit of a dick, although I guess I can understand, they’re not explaining themselves super well

Hng idk how I feel about Ormid and I’m not sure that I like that he now knows Dairon is working to get an audience with the king

But then again I’m bad about telling which NPCs are trustworthy and which aren’t.

Ormid’s face when they mentioned the cat OH MY GOD

okay fine god now I have to trust him

"I know we are talking about very important things but" I’m dying

Y’all fixing to get a symbol of the Cerberus Assembly damn

I don’t necessarily LIKE Ormid not entirely trust him but he’s already

Insight check on Sprinkles to see if he wants to go back with Jester aw

lol getting pet advice from him maybe I like him a little bit

PUMAT SOOOOL

it’s been so long!

PUMAAAAT SOL

Guys I have missed Pumat so much he just brings me so much joy

Fetch quest for Pumat DO IT PLZ

Oh

Wait

Basilisk oil that’s maybe not a great idea

GO SAILING TO THE ISLANDS

They gotta go to islands for Traveler Con right is that close?

"Let me get it from CritRole stats" lol

Oh thank god health potions

Armor boost oil is neat (plus 1 to AC isn’t bad) but ouch it’s pricy

I love that they CANNOT keep money they get it and then they spend it. It’s #relatable

Uh.... what’s happening to my boy?!

Caduceus?!

MATT WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY BOY??

45 pats slashing??

WHAT IS HAPPENING

CADUCEUS

oh NO

fuck no

Is there a rift near?!

WHAT THE FUCK

The Inevitable End?

WHAT IS HAPPENING?

Evil assassin person??

45 points of damage fuck

This is bad

Sam: “WE’RE SHOPPING MATT” MOOD

23 doesn’t hit?!

Oh they’re in trouble

God DAMN I’m freaked out omg

Does he have The Invulnerable Vangrent as a map??

God what a cliffhanger

[fizzingwizard]

Part 2 of The Great Disappointment.

8) Macavity. Do you know why, in horror films, they build up the monster or whatever lurks in the dark for a long, long time, only hinting at its presence before finally doing the big reveal at the end... or, sometimes, not at all? And just leaving you with the impression of something terrible, which is somehow more even chilling? Less is more. In the musical, you don’t see Macavity until the fight scene, and even then it’s brief. He is a specter. He’s scary! The Macavity in this movie? Was not even a little bit scary. Disney villains are scarier. Sheesh. I kind of liked the whole “Macavity is trying to get to the Heaviside layer” angle, but I am so not down for making Macavity ridiculous.

9) Demeter. Erasing her role was a bad idea. That is just my opinion, but look, you install Victoria as a heroine, why not her befriend the skittish, traumatized, yet incredibly strong Demeter who could provide her a reason to want to take Macavity down? Especially since they went and erased Demeter and Bombalurina’s girl power moments by making Bombalurina Macavity’s henchman. Like, OK. And what was wrong with just having Griddlebone in that role? Again, not something I’d bother criticizing if the movie were good, but since it’s not, bite me.

10) The Jellicle Ball. Is supposed to be so full of life and energy. Whenever I hear that electric guitar and the keyboard, I feel like dancing. I can’t dance, but I feel like I bunny hop with the best of them. This Jellicle Ball was just sleepy. People were barely dancing together. And more offensively CGI’d stunts didn’t help. Like. This is the mood-making piece of the show. And you messed it up.

11) The lighting. Anyone else notice how the lighting was pretty much the same the entire movie? They were like, since the story takes place outside at night in the city, they therefore only need one lighting scheme. It made the movie feel like one really really REALLy long scene. Occasionally they went inside but that did not offer the change of pace I’d hoped for. By the time Mungo & Rumpel turned up I was really feeling like “does this stay the same the whole movie”? It pretty much did, until dawn. And you know what I think. I think those shadows were more than just realism. I think they were meant to hide certain, shall we say, unpolished CGI. Convenient that the story’s set at night, huh.

12) The story. There isn’t anything in particulary wrong with the story! In fact there are things I would like to like! Macavity magicking away other cats before Old Deut could have been really cool, if he’d stayed scary. Macavity wanting to go to the Heaviside layer I already said I liked - I just don’t get why he didn’t have any real plan for what he’d do if Old Deut said no. He seemed to just want to kill her, but of course she doesn’t think he’s going to do that, since she’s the one who can grant him his wish, and if he did kill her, she clearly would rather that happen than give him what he wants. He had Bustopher and Jenny and Gus right there - why didn’t he make better use of his hostages? I mean x’D They got the better of him in true Spongebob Squarepants fashion. Also Misto & Vicky are a thing, not my thing, but certainly a thing, and much as I can’t help making fun of the “nerdy guy’s female inspiration!” trope, I was all prepared to LOVE awkward nerdy Misto, and any relationship between him and Victoria, only it was so half-hearted. The stuff between Grizabella and Victoria was fine, I mean, that’s pretty much how it is in the show anyway. It’s not a world-shaking story, but it didn’t have to be terrible. They could’ve made it work so people said it was fine.

But you know, 99% of Cats fanfiction is better, more creative, and more in keeping with the spirit of Cats. A lot of it I think would be better as a movie too. Specifically, all of the fanfiction that takes Demeter seriously and builds up the parallels between Mistoffelees and Macavity should be made into a movie. (I’d have said 100% except there is one Cats fic in particular I had the misfortune of reading and it scarred me, friends, it scarred me. Don’t ask for the details, they are too sick to recount. There is a dark side to fandom people weirdly don’t talk about and this fic was that.)

13) The tone. The tone was so confused. And to be fair, the whole variety show thing doesn’t help. But one minute it’s a sweet, melancholy story of wanting acceptance and living with regret, the next it’s one of those mindless Nickelodeon cartoons where to make viewers laugh you need to slime someone every three minutes. Then it’s a Disney movie where regardless of what’s happening, regardless of who’s singing, and regardless of their own physical capabilities, everyone starts dancing and singing in unison, and lights and red-carpeted staircases emerge out of the interdimensional rift. Then it’s a battle scene from Pirates of the Caribbean, except it’s Captain Jackbob Sparepants.Then Gandalf doesn’t know why he’s here. Then more singing and a lot of STRONG IMPLICATION that the audience should be deeply moved, for reasons. It’s just. A disaster.

14) Certain cats looked naked when not wearing bits of clothes and their lack of visible genitalia disturbed me. There I said it.

15. Rum Tum Tugger had nothing to do with Mistoffelees’s song. So this is just my preference, although I don’t think it’s an unreasonable one. It’s been standard for Tugger to sing “Mistoffelees” for decades. But in the early days Mistoffelees sang it, and some productions still have him sing part. Munkustrap does also sing part of it in some productions as well. I had expected Mistoffelees to sing some or all of it in the movie, and I expected Victoria to be included too. But I didn’t anticipate Munkustrap having a part, and I definitely didn’t expect him to do it instead of Tugger. Tugger didn’t do a single thing after his song except do the rich thug pose with the hotties on each arm. Lol. Waste of an extremely popular character.

I’m pretty sure I could go on for another 15 points but I’m gonna stop there. Things that were good, er...

Victoria. Too bad all she really got to do was look around in wonder.

Mistoffelees. Could have been better, could also have been much worse, so I’m counting my blessings.

Skimbleshanks and Mungo&Rumpel strangely going well.

Nod to Growltiger

The original song, even though it had no place here

I WANTED THIS TO BE SO GOOD YOU GUYS. This is a unique but really fun and special musical. It’s also one of the rare few that has a ton of roles both speaking and non for both men and women, and which can easily be played by people of any race or gender without many audience complaints. It should be our hero. It’s NOT easy to make into a movie, but it didn’t HAVE to be THIS.

Le sigh.

[tbsongs]

chapter 18 preview

Harry had two playlists set for the party to celebrate the first weekend where all his friends were back in town – the way, he decided, to kick their spring semester off right.

The main playlist was for the kick back, expertly crafted to slowly build with the level of alcohol in body until Party in the USA could come on and everyone would drunkenly sway with red cups in the air and belt it out at the top of their lungs. Songs For The Best Night it was aptly named.

And there was his personal playlist, the one with all his favorite upbeat songs. Harry often didn’t listen to music through a Bluetooth speaker – usually preferring headphones or his record player. But these songs were made for that – as if there were any other way to listen to Crazy In Love. He’d be mixing cake and icing for his cake pops and drop his spatula to hold his fist up in the air and grind his hips in the air to the uh, oh, uh, oh, uh oh – oh na na.

This playlist was made for him to let the music flow, tilt his head back and belt lyrics – to dance like nobody was watching.

And usually there wasn’t.

But Louis, bless his soul, was trying to help Harry set up for his kick back.

Louis stepped back into Harry’s living room from the back porch, finished setting up the cheap metal firepit and all the chairs he could around it. He took off his coat, tossing it over the back of the couch, as the heat from Harry’s place warmed him. He pulled the sleeves of his hoodie over his fingers. “Haz, I’ve finished up in the back,” he called.

But Louis didn’t think that Harry could hear him. Because Lizzo was absolutely blasting over the speaker.

He stepped into the kitchen to find Harry with a pale blue bumblebee apron wrapped around his body, his back towards Louis. He was bare foot with his head tilted back, curls cascading down his back. He punched the air as trumpets pounded and swelled aggressively. The music started to rise with the chorus I’m cryin’ cuz I love you. Harry belted out a rift along with Lizzo, turning his body and finally, he came face to face with Louis.

He stopped in his tracks for a moment, eyes wide and chest huffing. His cheeks were flushed and his hair wild. Lizzo kept singing on behind him, leaving just the two of them paused, frozen.

Harry’s eyes raked up and down Louis’ body and a smile easily fell over their lips.

Harry picked up a frilly white apron, placed it over Louis’ head, and used it to drag Louis closer when the music picked back up again. Louis laughed, loud and with his entire body jostling with it. Harry tied the apron for him quickly then put both of his clutched both of his fists in the air to make a complete show of singing the end of the song.

Louis leaned over, kissed his cheek, when the music slowed down. “How’s your buffalo dip coming?”

Harry gave it one last mix before he nodded. “All done,” he said, taking off his apron. He hung in on the hook near the door. “I’m gonna go get changed. Let people in for me, yeah?”

“’Course, babe.” Louis said, taking the apron off that Harry put on him, silently chuckling at how ridiculous he figured he looked in it. But perhaps, he thought, it wouldn’t look so ridiculous if Harry wore that for him with nothing on underneath.

He’d have to admit that he would like that.

Before he could get too distracted by those thoughts, a quick knock came from the door.

He soothed a hand down his hoodie when he pulled it open, Niall loudly spilling through with two other guys trailing behind him – Aaron and Nick.

“Lou, mate!” Niall called, eagerly. He wrapped an arm loosely around his shoulders and pulled him close, he was deceptively strong. “Good to see you. Your break was good, yeah?” Niall was already walking towards the kitchen – being the first person Harry made friends with at Kentwood, Niall had no issues making himself at home. They used to room together, when Harry stayed on campus. He pulled open the fridge, grabbing a handful of beers.

“Yeah, my break was good, man. Yours?”

“Can’t complain, man. I know you know Aaron,” Niall said, making quick work of popping the tops of the beers. “You met Nick Grimshaw?”

“Can’t say I have,” Louis said extending his hand towards Nick. “I’m Louis, do you work at the station?”

Nick’s eyes looked up, his perfectly quaffed hair bouncing with every movement his head made. “Yeah, I’ve got the morning show.”

“Nick’s a great host, real funny. He gets a lot of guests in for the station.” Aaron reached for the beer extended towards him from Niall, downing a quarter of it. Niall complained angrily behind him that he didn’t cheers first while another knock came from the door.

“I better go get that. Harry should be out soon,” Louis said, shuffling towards the door.

He heard Niall call “Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” behind him and figured Harry was now in the kitchen. Louis pulled open the door, finding Liam and Zayn excitedly talking to two girls. One, Louis recognized as Madison, another radio show host he had met once or twice. Judging by the low position of her hand on the other girl’s hip, he be willing to guess that it was the girlfriend he heard so much about.

Jess, Louis found out, was her name. She introduced herself just as Harry snuck up behind Louis to invite everyone in. Harry pressed his chest to Louis’ back as he opened the door wider to usher everyone in. Harry had a fajita bar set out on the table, strips of chicken, steak, and veggies in separate bowls on warming plates and toppings scattered around.

Everyone built their own plates, squeezing together in Harry’s living room, sitting on the couch, arms of chairs, floor cushions. Everyone chatted happily through the food, jovial laughter spilling through the air.

“H, did you set the firepit out?” Liam asked, finishing the last of his beer and gathering a few plates.

“Lou set it all up. Everyone want to go out there?”

With collective nods of agreement, everyone shrugged back on their heavy coats or bundled up in blankets to go huddle around the firepit on the porch. “I’ll get everyone a fresh round before I head out,” Harry as the party started to spill outside to the sounds of S.O.B by Nathaniel Rateliff and The Night Sweats fittingly played over his speaker.

“Baby, what’ll you have?” Harry called to Louis, clapping along to the song.

“Whatever ya pour me, gorgeous.” Louis called, stepping outside with the lighter to shivering voices, urging him to hurry up. “Alright, alright. Calm it you lot,” Harry heard him say as he slid the door closed.

Harry bounced around to the song, mixing a vodka soda for Jess, a couple of rum and cokes for Liam and Zayn. He grabbed a few beers and a bottle before heading out. After he passed the drinks around, he took his saved seat next to Louis, huddling under the blanket he had set over his shoulders.

Louis sniffed the cup before he brought it to his lips. “What is it?”

“Mixed that guava mango juice you like with some fruity vodka.”

“The juice in the glass bottle?”

“The very one,” Harry said with a smile, pressing his cup to Louis’ for a quick cheers.

“I’ve never been to a party before,” Jess spoke to no one in particular, face flush and a soft look on her face. She hiccupped around her cup, nursing her drink slowly.

“Not even in high school, babes?” Niall asked, turning towards her.

“Nah, never. Home schooled. Didn’t even have my first sip of alcohol til Mads gave me some wine.”

Madison shivered beside her, but not from the cold. The alcohol warmed their bodies, made them feel impervious to the cold – young and free from even nature’s elements. “That wasn’t a great night,” she chuckled.

“What were the parties like?” Jess mumbled, casting glances around to the group.

“Lots of kids acting way too mature for their age and too loud music.” Zayn responded.

“And games, like weird sorts of games.” Liam said, rubbing a hand through his hair.

“This is pretty tame, if I’m honest, as far as parties go.” Niall added.

“Hey,” Harry drawled slowly. “I throw a good party.” He spoke defensively.

“Want something to liven it up?” Zayn asked, with a smirk. He reached into his pocket, pulling open a metal case. He popped it open, holding a few rolled joints to the group. He took one out, placing it behind his ear, before passing the case around to the group. “Lou, hand me that lighter, will ya?”

Jess passed the case to Niall without so much as a second glance. “What kind of games?” She asked Liam.

“Like spin the bottle, never have I ever kind of games.”

Niall took a joint, waiting for the lighter to follow the metal case. He passed it to Nick, who let it go straight to Louis. “None for you, Nick?”

“No, if I smoke while I drink, I get really nauseous for some reason.” He said with a shrug. “I always have to stick to one or the other.”

“Ah, that’s fair, mate. Tough luck, though.”

“What’s never have I ever?” Jess asked. The fire picked up as Liam sat another log into the flames. It licked up, casting a glow against his face while he answered her question – like he was telling some scary ghost campfire story.

“You basically go around the circle, say something you haven’t done. If someone in the group has done it, they drink. And you just keep going around.”

“Let’s play! Can we play?” Jess asked excitedly. Louis picked up the metal case as it came to him.

“Share one with me, love? Don’t feel like going in on one by myself.” Louis whispered over to Harry.

“Sure thing.”

“Let’s play, eh lads? Like we are proper teenagers again?” Niall asked the group, not willing to let the excited look fall from Jess’ face. After getting what seemed to be an affirmative answer from the group, although most of them admittedly were paying more attention to lighting their joints, Niall said, “I’ll start.”

Niall mulled it over on his inhale, holding the smoke in his lungs. On his exhale he hummed. “Never have I ever seen a Star Wars movie.”

Everyone took a sip of their drink. “How have you made it twenty years and have never seen a Star Wars movie?” Louis asked. While Liam said he knew what they’d be playing for the next movie night.

Nick was next. “Never have I ever had sex with a girl.”

“Never, mate?” Niall asked, wrapping his lips around his beer and taking a sip. Nick just shrugged. It was Liam’s turn.

“Never have I ever broken up with someone over text.��� Liam said. Niall drank. “Niall! What happened?”

Niall started to giggle, taking another drag from the joint. “In my defense, yeah. I didn’t think we were together. We had one date in high school, and she told everyone she was my girlfriend – like everyone. The date didn’t even go well. She only talked about herself and dug her nails into my thigh the whole time.” Niall shrugged through everyone’s apologies.

Harry took his turn after he pulled the smoke into his lungs and exhaled. “Never have I ever had a one night stand.” He raised a nonjudgmental eyebrow and smirked as he watched Louis take a sip.

“Never have I ever gone skinny dipping.” Louis said, laughing. He knew that Harry, the first time he ever got drunk, threw his swim shorts off and jumped in the pool with his friends. He saw the blush creep over his cheeks as he drank.

Zayn held his drink up before he drank. Then it was his turn. “Never have I ever been spanked, sexually.” He threw a pointed look at Liam. Liam blanched at Zayn, scarlet shading his face. Louis heard dark expletives come out of Liam’s mouth as he threw back the rest of his drink.

“You did that on purpose, mate!” Liam said, shoving a hand onto Zayn’s chest. Zayn and Louis both fell over, clutching their stomachs and laughing.

“Wait, wait. Payno. Please tell us what happened?”

“Only if you want to,” Harry clarified.

“Okay, okay. There was this girl I was dating freshman year. She was just really into trying new things. She wanted to try everything,” Liam said, shrugging. When Niall tried to press for more information, like what exactly she wanted to try, Liam dared him to try and find out.

On Madison’s turn, she said, “Never have I ever tried bondage.” Liam drank.

“Never have I ever been a Dominant.” Liam drank.

“A submissive?” Liam drank again.

“Never have I ever had sex outside of a home,” Jess said.

Harry mulled over drinking. Technically, it was just oral sex that time in the studio. Did that count? Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Louis watching him. He raised his cup to his lips; Louis perfectly mimicked his motion. Harry wondered if they were thinking the same thing.

“Let’s head inside,” Nick called, watching the fire die out. “It’s getting fucking cold.”

Harry stood, felt his head sway and giggles start to erupt out of his mouth. When he got his blood flowing, tried to use what fine motor skills he had, his vision felt like he went into the settings on an old DVD and set it to widescreen. He smiled and held onto Louis’ hand. He saw the same thing wash over everyone else’s faces as they stood and walked inside too.

They all sauntered inside to Wannabe by the Spice Girls.

“Oi, let’s play the other game you mentioned, Li. Spin the bottle!” Niall called.

“I’ve actually never played.” Zayn reflected, plopping down on the floor. Liam worked with Harry in the kitchen, making everyone fresh drinks. Really, he just put the most effort into making his own mojito and left everyone else’s drink to Harry. He did help carry them though.

[starfaring-princelotor]

Allura.... Allura is fucking racist how did I not even think about this before??? I mean, I get it, they destroyed her planet and her kingdom her father all of that, but she pins the actions of a single man with a group of followers on an entire fucking race. Like, Keith revealed to be galra? Nothing about him has changed except some new info arrived, but that has always been there, just unknown. I honestly cant stand allura....

Rather annoying, is it not? I wonder why she gets easily overlooked for her racist tendencies? Everyone is a little racist in the show, but DW doesn’t sugar coat her acts towards the Galra. Either through Keith, the BOM, and myself included, it is pretty obvious she holds us in something worse than contempt. Canon is simply a mess, but allow me to share with you a way Allura could have changed for the better. Let me see. Who else had the biggest influence on her in regards to the Galra and someone who she looked up to for the majority of her life?

King Alfor.

Before I continue, I should caution those who are hardcore Allura stans, whether fanon or canon, that you may not like what you read if you wish to continue. Especially if you view Allura as perfect and who grew for the better, for this talks more into exposing her flaws and criticizing DW for coding her as racist.

Also, big thank you to @legendofcarl for beta reading this. 

Many times throughout the earlier seasons, she states over and over again how her father sought peace and was a virtuous, intelligent leader. She was mostly riding his coattails and name dropping, though that does not mean she was wrong to be inspired by him or reignite hope in others with his title alone. In fact, it is a good thing to have a mentor.

Allura knows he messed up, as his AI even stated, and she understands that his mistake cost many lives. She put a lot of effort to fix her father’s mistake, an honorable goal and, ultimately, done out of revenge, too. A huge responsibility was placed on her shoulders as a Princess, daughter of King Alfor, the “last” living Altean of the universe.

However, let us take a step back and look at King Alfor from a larger point of view.

Coran explains the history of Voltron. He first starts out with a very important fact:

“In the beginning, the paladins were just five leaders, who despite coming from cultures which were vastly divergent, and in some cases, had been warring for generations managed to look past their differences in an effort to protect their common interests.”

The critical take away from this is that they were not initially allies. Some fought each other. Brutally. Now, the degree of fighting and number of death tolls may vary, but understand that they did have wars. Take note that they all joined together BEFORE Voltron was even created. This is a mutual agreement that turned into friendship, where all agreed to fight off those who wish to bring harm upon their solar system.

I will say this again. This is BEFORE Voltron was created, before Zarkon became poisoned by quintessence, before Honerva became obsessed with the Rift.

Why is this an important fact? The comet, the Rift, and the creation of Voltron is what started the friction between the group. I wholeheartedly believe that Allura first started seeing Galra as the “bad” guys when she first woke up from her slumber. Not before King Alfor used magic to knock her unconscious. There, she still had a young mind in the concerns of war. Much of her virtues were the same from S1-S3. Defeat Zarkon and everything will be a-okay.

However, when she awakes, her one-track sight transitions from hating Zarkon to hating everything and everyone who are under his Empire, who even look like a Galra, because Altea is gone, everyone she grew up with is gone. She had no chance to save them thanks to her father’s final decision. Altea was obliterated from the universe by Zarkon’s will. Perhaps if King Alfor had succeeded in fighting against Emperor Zarkon, she would have had more time to understand the true meaning behind the Galra ruler’s attack because I highly doubt Allura’s father explained every, single important detail to her.

You can see this by the way Shiro insists that Coran and Allura share the historic knowledge of Zarkon, Alfor, and Voltron.

“I know this is painful to talk about, but if we’re going to stop Lotor, it’s time we heard the rest of the story.”

But why didn’t Alfor explain all this to Allura? Why didn’t Alfor’s AI memory say anything? Is it because parents have an uncanny ability to shelter their children from their own past mistakes? Or was Allura so grief-stricken with the fact that Altea was gone, she hyperfixed on the past? Maybe Allura knew this history, but decided to keep it stored away as something irrelevant to the present circumstances? Was she purposely hiding information from the Paladins?

For whatever reason, let us say Allura did not know the entire history.

Yes, Alfor admitted that hiding the lions was a mistake, though if he explained why Zarkon was still alive, why Zarkon wants the lions, why his best friend went mad with power, then she would have a better understanding of how to take him down or, best route, not hold vengeful prejudice views of the Galra as a whole and instead see that the destruction of Altea was both Zarkon AND Alfor’s fault. Not because Alfor didn’t fight back, but because, as he said, it was too late. Zarkon has been given too much power for Alfor to fight against.

I am stating this: Alfor never saw Zarkon as this “evil Galra.” He saw him as a legitimate friend who became sick with quintessence until it led to his demise, despite the signs being glaringly obvious from the beginning. Alfor and Zarkon insisted on continuing the Rift and quintessence research for the greater good. They say this clear as day to each other.

Zarkon: Endlessly powerful ships for the Galra Empire.

Alfor: And an endless source of clean energy for the entire system.

Yes, King Alfor insisted they close the Rift after the initial creature came through, but there is a key point to take from their post conversation. Both of them knew what they were getting into and Alfor, albeit reluctantly, still supported Zarkon’s decision.

Zarkon: Your ships are the most powerful machines ever created. Who knows what else may be discovered if we continue working?

Alfor: You would risk your entire planet, the entire solar system, for what? For more power?

Zarkon: You know it’s more than that.

The discovery of quintessence, other realities, this was a dream come true for Alfor and Honerva. Alfor knew when to stop, but did not know HOW to stop his friends. He was not only fearful of the power of quintessence and the Rift, but also how it affected the minds of his allies. Was Alfor right in turning his back to his sick friends? No, but he did so anyways, and risked destruction on Daibazaal and his allies.

Alfor knew Zarkon was too obsessed, knew Honerva was too sick, and left them.

Then, Zarkon does realize the error of his ways when Honerva fell ill. The good old “I will do anything for the one I love, even lie to my friends” trick. Tragic, but it works, and we all know how that story ended. Both Zarkon and Honerva became overexposed to quintessence, which changed them completely. Apparently, Honerva transitioned into Haggar and lost part of her memories. Zarkon, however, seemed to still retain his past, for he became focused on obtaining Voltron.

For what reason? The show keeps saying it is because he wanted to rule the universe and Voltron was the only one able to stop him. Voltron was the only way he could rule the other realities, as well. Personally, I do not believe either of these options, but that is another story for another time.

One thing I would like to point out is that, while Zarkon was unable to rule Daibazaal, Alfor still sought to save the population by evacuating them to Altea and other planets in their solar system. Alfor still cared enough for Zarkon as a royal friend. He understood that all the grief which happened between Voltron, the comet, the realities, the quintessence, the paladins, it not only affected them, but the people who trusted them to rule as well. Alfor sought to save the Galra by any means possible, even if it meant destroying their home in HOPES to close the Rift, too.

The scary thing to understand from Alfor’s reckless decision to obliterate the planet? He could not have anticipated Zarkon’s recovery and powerful, vengeful strength once hearing Daibazaal had been destroyed. His home, the one he was unable to protect, the people he was unable to help, the wife who became someone else entirely, all resulted from his time being “dead.” I also find it personally disturbing that, whether or not Zarkon knew there were Galra ON Altea and other planets, he still only focused on ending Alfor’s life, despite the oncoming casualties from his own people.

Here is something many overlook. Zarkon does not blame all of Altea as a race for the destruction of Daibazaal. He solely blames King Alfor. His race was not mentioned at all, therefore he lashed out at someone he thought was his friend.

But why is it important to know all this? Ever heard of the famous saying “those who do not learn from history tend to repeat it?”

Who else was unable to rule due to being otherwise incapacitated for a long time? Who else woke to the knowledge that their home was gone? And who else immediately sought out to kill the person that purposely destroyed everything they knew?

That’s right. Allura. She has more of the same history as Zarkon which is why I truly understand she would be a ruthless ruler who would enslave planets like the Empress mentioned in the Altean AU.

Yes, in the canon AU, part of her righteous goal was to free planets from Zarkon’s hold, end the war, but you can not convince me that Alfor’s death, Altea’s death, her culture’s death, did not partake in her decision to take him down. In the very first episode of Voltron, Zarkon states “I shall wipe that foul race from the universe…” and, yes, this is a very racist claim. But you may be asking, why does he say this? Is it because he had years to cultivate the prejudice that Alfor, someone he considered his friend, turned on him? I believe that Zarkon’s degrading mind slowly began hating not just him, but Alteans as well, even if he already reaped his revenge on billions of innocent lives.

The same thought process happens with Allura as Voltron slowly saves worlds. Perhaps initially, when she awakens, she understands that Zarkon is the cause of this war. But over time, while freeing other planets under the hold of Galra bases and fighting Galra face to face, she began associating all of them to be a “blood thirsty, murderous race.” This is a terrible, terrible path to go down and, oh, if only there was SOMEONE she looked up to that could explain that lumping together an entire ethnicity based on prejudice views will only cloud her judgement in every decision she makes.

If only Alfor told Allura that Zarkon was his friend first and foremost. I am a firm believer that the best friendships form from common interest, not common race, and DW showed this clearly with the first paladins of Voltron. It is too bad they did not keep to it throughout the entire show.

Let’s examine Allura’s first encounter with the Galra outside of the Empire: Ulaz. Shiro vouched for Ulaz, claimed over and over again that this “evil” Galra helped him escape from Zarkon’s clutches. Ultimately, I believe that without Ulaz’s help, Voltron would not have been found and the storyline of the entire show would not have progressed. What is the first thing Allura says to Shiro once he mentions that Ulaz is a Galra?

“You know you cannot trust them.”

Allura takes on a very close-minded view of him, despite the fact that he has not done anything to HER directly. She says that the Galra can not be trusted more than twice during this episode and obviously does not hide the fact she intensely hates them at first glance, no matter who helped or aided her friends in the war. More often than not, she openly states her own opinions before thinking twice about her words.

Remember their conversation?

Allura: I will not have some quiznak-ing Galra soldier on the bridge of my ship!

Ulaz: If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead already.

Allura: Are your Galra threats supposed to win my trust?

Ulaz: I’m not trying to win your trust. I’m trying to win a war.

And yet, we clearly see her prejudice misconception already clouding her judgement, making her spit out venom to a man who saved Shiro’s life. Who saved the BLACK PALADIN’S life. Allura is so adamant about protecting the universe and the paladins that she purposely avoided telling them the small bit of history she knows about her father and Zarkon. She claims that “I wanted to protect you from the dark history of the paladins so that you would have a chance to bond with your lions on your own.”

I do not know about you guys, but knowing all the history of war is vitally important so miscommunications do not lead to irreversible decisions. The Princess hiding this information, as well placed as her heart is, means trouble when her misguided views of the Galra once again rear its ugly head. When news that Zarkon’s robobeast is headed to their location in the crystal clusters, who does she immediately accuse?

Ulaz. And again, “I knew he cannot be trusted!”

And once more, when Ulaz “fled.”

“I knew we should never trust a Galra!”

My biggest issue here is that she changed from “I cannot trust the Galra” to “WE cannot trust the Galra.” She is unconsciously imposing her views on the other Paladins. Right after Ulaz sacrificed himself, I half-expected the Princess to apologize to Shiro for doubting him. Yet, it was Keith who apologized to him after recognizing that Ulaz, despite being a Galra, rescued them from destruction.

What does Allura say when Shiro is grieving over Ulaz and the question of how Zarkon tracked them floats in the air?

Keith: Do you really think Zarkon is tracking us?

Allura: We cannot know for sure. Only Ulaz knew our whereabouts.

Shiro: You don’t really think Ulaz gave us up? After he sacrificed himself?

Keith: Yeah! Maybe Zarkon found out about this place on his own. He’s probably been searching for the Blade of Marmora.”

Allura: It’s clear the loss of Ulaz has caused you great concern, but, regardless of how Zarkon located us, we cannot stay here any longer. It isn’t safe.”

This scene rubbed me the wrong way completely. Not only does Allura brush off Ulaz’s sacrifice and Shiro’s grief like a flippant “Oh, he was just another Galra,” she does little to nothing to honor him because of how strongly she clings to her views that “I should never trust the Galra.” She refuses to see that it is not just the universe that are suffering under Zarkon’s rule, but the Galra who are actively fighting AGAINST him as well.

At this stage, she can’t differentiate that there are good and bad Galras, and keeps to holding them in the “never trust” side like it is their responsibility to make her trust them in the first place. It is very disgusting to view an entire race as “I don’t trust you, so good luck changing that!” because of ONE Galra’s actions that directly affected her. Is she right to be angry at Zarkon? Yes. The rest of the Galra? No.

She lacks the empathy for the Galra race as a whole and on the individual scale.

This leads to her first magical self-growth dealing with Keith, which you can read all about at @legendofcarl’s meta here. So, yes, she changed for the better, learned her mistakes and admitted she was wrong. I will be honest, her entire attitude towards Keith during his own personal self-discovery was probably the most off-putting aspects about her character. Friends are supposed to support you in times of difficulties, but here she does not hide nor try to reason at first that her actions towards Keith are very improper and rude.

Which is odd coming from a person who claims diplomacy first, but only to races she does not discriminate against.

I was glad she “saw the light” with Keith, but then, disappointed once more when she reluctantly accepted the Blade of Marmora’s help in fighting Zarkon. She jeopardizes the mission and throws in their face that it is THEIR fault for holding back. Allura does not understand the struggles BoM went through over 10,000 years of war and, perhaps, people may see her me-first command not racist at all.

Kolivan: We need to abort the mission immediately.Allura: Abort? No! We cannot back away now.Kolivan: The Blade of Marmora does not take chances.It’s how we’ve survived for so long. Allura: It’s held you back. Your caution is the reason Zarkon is still in power.Kolivan: We would rather wait than jeopardize everything.

Allura clearly did not think things through at all when arguing with Kolivan, nor did she watch was she was saying. Not only was she disrespectful, but she also decided on her own how to handle plans that the BoM carefully laid out. Speaking over Kolivan like this and undermining his work was completely unnecessary on Allura’s part. Does his race have anything to do with it? I would think, yes, because if Kolivan was any other leader of any other race, she would not have rudely stepped into his leadership role. She is not being diplomatic here, she is being controlling.

Lastly, let us examine the final “battle” Allura faces with racism. Yours truly, Lotor.

It is already established that Allura views Alteans in a more pure light, “can do no harm” despite her father’s ONE fuck-up that cost many lives. Not just Altean lives, but Galra and every other race in the universe. And yet, when she discovers that it was an Altean working with Zarkon, she never once looked back and thought, “Huh, that’s troubling. I should probably look into that since I thought I was the LAST living Altean in the universe.”

Even in “Hole in the Sky,” the alternate universe where Empress Allura stops the Galra Uprising, she does not once think that it was problematic to bestow “justice” on the Galra. The show does a good job of leaving details out in the open and many are wondering if the Galra race in this alternate reality are eradicated from history or enslaved. Though, I am more inclined to believe that Empress Allura enslaved the Galra from the uprising rather than kill them.

Why did I come to this conclusion? The hoktril. Throughout the entire episode, it was clear to the audience that a race’s freewill was forcefully being taken from them. Of course, Princess Allura does not immediately see it that way. She first sees that Alteans are alive and flourishing. She first recognizes them before understanding that these Alteans have enslaved their universe. The storyline basically paints Empress Allura as Emperor Zarkon, or rather, what WOULD have happened if Allura had succeeded in taking down Zarkon.

Even Keith tried to reason with her, yet Allura kept her focus on the fact that Alteans were The Best.

Keith: Maybe you should think about this, Allura. It wasn’t that long ago that we thought all Galra were bad. Maybe things aren’t as black and white as she’s making them out to be.Allura: Keith, these are my people, and they may be the strongest allies we have in this war.

One thing I would like to point out is that both Emperor Zarkon and Empress Allura took their hate out on race as a whole, not just against the ones who did them wrong. Both were deluded with their own views of conquering the universe. Empress Allura through spreading “peace” and Emperor Zarkon through endless war. Both took on this view because of a great loss they were forced to endure.

When it comes to a certain Prince, Allura’s “Alteans first” mentality really rears its hideousness once again. At first meet, she blatantly groups me with the Galra by stating I was the “leader of the most bloodthirsty race of murderers this universe has ever known.” I will always bring this back because, after knowing her own Altean race in the alternate reality were not good by her standards, she still sees that their progress had “the best intentions in mind.” Yet, with myself and the Galra, she does not give us the same benefit of doubt at all.

It takes patricide for Allura to even see me as different. It takes the knowledge that my mother was Altean, therefore making me half-Altean, for Allura to trust me a bit more. It takes me crossing the universe, giving her magical powers that I have been searching and studying for centuries, just to have Allura’s smidgen of approval. And, sad to say, it was not even an approval for my Galra side! It was an approval that I was less of a “bad” Galra and more of a “good” Altean!

Do I really need to point out how wrong it is to think of anyone in such a way?

She fell in love with her own ideals of Alteans and pretty much viewed only that side of myself, despite the fact that I am a mix of two races. Allura clung to my “good” side, regardless of clear evidence showing that not all Alteans are righteous and not all Galra are war-mongers. I doubt she really understood my struggles over the span of 10,000 years and that I am not just the child raised in war. I mean living as a half-Altean, half-Galra child coming to terms about myself and the stereotypes of both ethnicities.

I may have accepted my heritage, but Allura did not. That already points to red flags.

The bigger issue with this is that, when shit hit the fan, Allura listened to an Altean over myself. This entire scene reminded me again of Hira and the Altean AU where she listened to her people first and foremost. Does she not view me as someone who is also part of “her” people? Why? Because I am of mixed races? Because I am not a full Altean like Romelle? Because I do not look Altean? It seems like when “full-blooded” Alteans are presented before Allura, she completely throws out all of her morals for the sake of “her” people.

Yet, in the face of Galra, all that prejudice and stereotypes come rushing back. When Zarkon destroyed her home world, she blames the entire Galra race. When Hira, ONE Altean, said Allura was no Empress, she specifically said “You’re no Altean.” Yet, when Romelle, a stranger, an Altean from her reality, appears and accuses myself, the half-Atlean man she supposedly harbors feelings for, of murder? Again, Allura shows she can not differentiate between race and individuals.

Then she purposely used her hatred for the Galra and for Zarkon to insult me directly. It is no wonder I immediately reacted and compared her to King Alfor, the man who failed to protect his own people. I hurt her where she hurt me the most and, no, I was not thinking about “Allura is Altean, so is King Alfor. This is a perfect jab at her!” If I hold any contempt to Alteans and the Galra, it is not at the same racist level as Allura.

Both of us grew up in different environments, but I am less racist than Allura. Being ostracized from the Galra is not the same as Allura hating the Galra as a whole because of Zarkon’s will. Zarkon did not specifically say “Hey, loyal subjects, once you see Allura, just spit on her. Hate on her as much as you can. Make her life of 10,000 years totally awful.”

Facing such prejudice from the Galra is one reason which, I believe, is why I open up to Allura. Unbeknownst to her, I already met and spoke with Alteans from the colony and somewhat felt accepted by them. Maybe I even saw that there were good Alteans in the universe, aside from the only other Altean I grew up with: my mother who neglected me from birth. Perhaps I thought Allura would be just as kind and understanding like those from the Colony.

Nope. Allura proved to me that there are bad Alteans in the existence, not just Haggerva.

But let us analyze the friendship between Alfor and Zarkon, since DW enjoys comparing them to Allura and I respectively in the show far too often. Both are kings of their planet, respected by their culture, and care deeply for the safety of their people. Both kings used the power of the comet for their own need and, initially, both were careless with the miraculous capabilities of quintessence. Yes, one can argue that Honerva was the one who pushed Zarkon towards the tipping point, but it was Alfor who started it all and Alfor who turned his back on them when his leader needed them the most.  

This is not to say it is completely his fault. The main point to take from this is that King Alfor nor Emperor Zarkon saw each other by their race. They saw each other as allies with the same goal in mind. If only Allura and I could have worked the same way, moreso on Allura’s part since her racist views started the moment she woke up from her 10,000 years of slumber.

From all of this, I can wholeheartedly conclude that I am more like King Alfor and Allura is more like Emperor Zarkon. I do mean that in a literal sense, too. Take it like this: I helped empower her with magic that will aid her in the long run, we both worked closely to learn about quintessence, both sought to defend the universe in some way, yet when plans went awry and I tried to reason with her, she used her power to take control of the situation.

However, whereas Alfor saved Zarkon while he was in the Rift, despite his second betrayal to the team, Allura and the Paladins abandoned me to my fate over one accusation that had no grounds of proof or evidence. I suppose we were never really allies or friends if trust could so easily be broken like this, regardless of what the show made the audience believe. I truly wish DW was more inclined to start off the alliance between the Paladins and I with friendship. Friendship with all of them, not just romance with Allura, because it only enforced terrible tropes when a major plot movement was involved. Even worse that they involved racial discrimination between Allura and I.

TLDR; Allura is racist and has actually degraded as a character thanks to DW’s lack of insight.

[for-the-dales]

Chapter 5: Varric

Chapter 1 (Leliana): https://for-the-dales.tumblr.com/post/185692342364/the-path-forward-chapter-1-leliana

          Varric never minded much just sitting and watching the world pass by, as long as the world was interesting. At the present he was sitting on a bench with his back against a wall while tuning up Bianca. He watched as the activity in Haven ebbed and flowed around him. Thedas’s second weirdest company got back from the Hinterland this morning after spending a week running all around those hills. Mother Giselle had been nice enough, didn’t want to execute the Herald on the spot. Small improvements. Even didn’t think she should be jailed for the rest of her life just for being a mage. Honestly the woman was a bit of a radical.

           The killing bad guys who hurt innocent people, hunting down supplies for refugees, and even closing rifts became a little routine while they had been in the Hinterlands. It got a bit monotonous. The fun part was watching everyone try to get along. No one knew each other really, not even the original group from Haven. Varric hadn’t met Chuckles until they both got caught up in a fight together in the aftermath of the Breach. Varric knew Cassandra of course, but they weren’t exactly the best of friends. Throw in some very weird Dalish elves and a woman accused of being the worlds last and best hope, and you’ve got yourself a party. The two new elves in their party kept muttering back and forth to each other in elvhen, which put the Seeker on edge. The Herald tried to keep the peace by insisting that the twins speak in common, but Solas almost ruined the whole thing when he agreed because, “Your pronunciation needs work.”

           The big elf reminded Varric a little of Fenris when he almost ripped the mages head off. It made him a little homesick.

           Just then Varric saw the Blessed Lady herself walking back to her cabin. She was smiling and greeting people along the way. She exuded a calm energy that was desperately needed around Haven. Having a potentially world ending catastrophe kill all of your religious leaders only two weeks ago could have that sort of effect on morale. She reminded Varric a little of Elthina. Or maybe what Elthina should have been. When she came close to him, Varric noticed the small crease between her eyes that she was trying to hide. When she got to the door of her cabin he saw her shoulders sag just a little before going inside.

           Varric set Bianca aside and stood. He supposed even holy saviors needed pep talks occasionally, and if Varric had one talent it was convincing people to do things. Sometimes it was convincing them to give him money or information, but with his friends it was usually just convincing them they weren’t in as bad a spot as they thought they were.

           Varric knocked on the door to her cabin and only had to wait a moment before the Herald was opening the door. She looked a little tired, but when she saw who it was she smiled and stepped aside so Varric could walk in. She’d managed to make the place pretty cozy. Small candles were clustered on almost every surface with a large cluster on either end of the mantle opposite the door. On the mantle were eight small wooden figurines. They had simple designs on them, but they were still beautiful. The largest one looked kind of like a dragon and had a single red candle lit in front of it. There was a fire blazing in the fireplace and Varric thought he might actually have to take off his coat to keep from passing out from the heat.

           The Herald noticed him sweating and said, “I’m not used to the cold. I don’t think I’m built for it. May I?”

           The elf held out her hand and Varric gave her his coat. She wasn’t wearing her armor so he saw her hands for the first time. The vallaslin were broken up on her fingers by several dainty gold rings, some were all woven together.

           “I didn’t think Dalish got vallaslin past their faces.” Varric commented while he sat down at the small table she had one side of the little room.

           “Most don’t.” She hung his coat on a knob next to the door and walked over to get some water and cups from her bedside table, “Only priests get more extensive ones. The more extensive the tattoos, the higher rank the priest.”

           She set the water and cups on the table and sat across from the dwarf, “Tea?”

           “Yes please.”

           She reached across the table to grab a small wooden box in the center, opened it, and grabbed two blocks of tea out of it. She put a block in each cup, poured water in after, and then took hold of the cups. After a moment Varric could see the water begin to bubble and steam rise out of it. She handed Varric his still warm cup and said, “I apologize, I don’t have any milk or sugar.”

           Varric waved her off, “That’s alright. It’s not stream water or cheap ale, so it’s an improvement to what I’ve been drinking the past few days.”

           Varric took a sip and was happy to discover he had not been falsely optimistic. It was good, tasted a little like berries. The Herald took a sip of her tea before setting it back down and looking up at Varric, “So what can I help you with Mr. Tethras?”

           Varric chuckled, “Nothing.”

           Varric wouldn’t say the Herald looked shocked; maybe mild confusion would be more accurate. He continued, “You looked stressed and I decided to swing by to see if you needed to chat. Do you?”

           The Herald leaned back in her chair and took another sip of tea. Finally she sighed and nodded.

           “Okay then, lets start with names. Mr. Tethras is my father, everyone just calls me Varric.” Varric took a sip of his tea, “And, if you can believe it, in all the hubbub I didn’t catch your name. Cassandra and Solas call you Herald, the twins call you Rajha-whatever, but I don’t think I’ve heard someone use your actual name once.”

           The Herald looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding, “I think you’re right.” She extended a hand across the table, “Ellana of Clan Lavellan.”

           Varric took her hand and shook it, “Nice to meet you Ellana of Clan Lavellan, been nice fighting with you for the past week.”

           “Likewise.”

           “So, you said that the twins are part of a different priesthood from you, right?”

           “Yes.”

           “So how did you meet them? You seem to know them pretty well. Do you all serve in one place or…”

           Varric wasn’t trying to pry- no that was lie. Varric was always trying to pry. He wasn’t trying to be invasive. However, he was really curious about these Dalish that seemed very different from the ones he had met. Daisy would get a kick out of them.

           Ellana smiled and said, “No. We all live at different temples. I met them when they were much younger. I was sixteen when I first joined the priesthood, and the twins arrived a few weeks after I took my vows. They had been orphaned, and they were only nine years old. I had been having a hard time settling into temple life so the Raj’ha’haren at the time assigned me to look after them while they got settled. She thought it would be good for all of us. She was right, as usual. Helping them get settled helped me to understand my own place in the temple a little better. I wound up practically raising those two. When they were seventeen they decided that the priesthood of Mythal wasn’t for them, and they went off to join different temples. I was invited to both of their initiations. I was so proud.”

           Ellana smiled to herself and took another sip of her tea. The smile only lasted a moment before the small crinkle appeared on her forehead again.

           Varric put his now empty cup down, “They’re your kids.”

           “As a priestess of Mythal I have had a hand in raising many children who came to our temple… but yes. Those two were special.”

           “And now they’re here.”

           “And now they’re here.”

           “Well shit, that can’t be easy.”

           Throughout the conversation Varric could see Ellana relax bit by bit, but now she almost slumped forward.

           “It’s not. I was the one who volunteered to take this risk. To come to the Conclave. After everything happened, I understood that I needed to stay and help; I had accepted the dangers because I needed to. But they don’t have to be here. They can go home. Be safe.”

           “You could tell them to leave.”

           “They wouldn’t listen, and I’d probably offend them. As much as I worry, they are both extremely capable. I just wish Sahren would stop picking at Cassandra. She’s uncomfortable enough as is. And Mythal give me strength if Rasa tries to pickpocket Leliana one more time. The Nightingale might actually have them killed.”

           “Or recruit them.”

           That got a chuckle out of her. While Ellana made Varric some more tea he asked, “So, what’s the scariest thing right now? Other than the obvious possibility of death and dismemberment.”

           “Well other than that.” Ellana handed him his tea, “I suppose it’s all the walking on egg shells. I’m not ashamed to talk about my people or my beliefs, as I suppose you’ve guessed by now.”

           Varric nodded an affirmative as Ellana continued, “But I’m still so nervous constantly that if I don’t mix in the right amount of deferment, agree just enough that ‘sure, maybe your goddess sent me’ that they’d get a little too frustrated and…”

           “They’re not going to kill you.”

           Ellana sighed and her shoulders slumped, “I know, but you didn’t say it had to be a reasonable fear. I’ve seen what humans will do when elves get a little to elvhen for their tastes. It rarely ends well. I was talking to Josephine the other day and bless her she was trying to talk to me about my people and ask questions, but she had so many misconceptions drilled into her brain. Scary ones. Is it terrible that I don’t always want to have to be the perfect elf? Back home I am a leader among my people, but I’m a leader on my own terms. They know me, and I can be myself. I was the youngest priest in a very long time to be chosen as Raj’ha’haren, and that didn’t come without a lot of hard work. But does Cassandra care? Does Cullen? No. They’d rather I stayed quiet about the whole elf thing and focus only on the Breach. Afterwards they can look back on their elf friend and clap themselves on the back about how tolerantthey were with her.”

           As she had been talking her voice had gotten louder and angrier. When she finished she realizer her volume and took a deep breath to compose herself. Varric could see her walls going back up as she said, “I apologize I shouldn’t have-”

           “Bull shit you shouldn’t have. It’s okay to vent. It’s okay to be pissed about this whole situation. And I’m not gonna sit here and lie to you and say that you shouldn’t worry and that you can be completely yourself, because you’re right, you can’t. But I will say I think you may be giving our compatriots too little credit. She may not seem like it, but I think Cassandra wouldn’t mind having an honest debate with you in your down time about religion. Maybe invite Mother Giselle and Josephine; it might be good for both of them. And don’t back down when they get frustrated, push through. You should also really introduce Sahren to Cullen because once they get past the obvious differences I really think those two would get along. And let me handle Rasa, they’re a decent thief, but they could be better.”

           Ellana smiled at him. A real smile. Not one of the smiles she shot at refugees who thanked her that exuded benevolence. Not a small one while speaking to Cassandra that worked hard to present her as non-threatening. No, this smile was a little crooked and made her eyes crinkle just slightly. She finished her second cup of tea and said, “It makes sense that Rasa isn’t a decent thief, it’s not what they trained to be.”

           “And what exactly did they train to be?”

           “A master assassin, they were visiting me from Antiva when I left.”

           “Wait what?”

Chapter 6: https://for-the-dales.tumblr.com/post/187109071729/chapter-6-solas

[weirdponytail]

Modern Inheritance: Apology, pt 1 (Short)

CONTENT WARNING: HEAVY MENTIONS OF TORTURE WOUNDS (THOUGH NOT DESCRIBED), HEAVILY IMPLIED TORTURE (CANON), GENERAL CANON INHERITANCE CYCLE WHUMP(?)

The only movement that could be seen was her breathing.

The woman’s bare sides rose and fell in ragged pulls of stale air. The harsh light of the bare bulbs above set the bloodied sweat that coated her skin glistening, beads of it rolling down her mutilated shoulders and back only to be interrupted by the grimy sports bra that kept her modesty. Fresh blood joined the tracks of moisture as they slid from her wrists, arms held up on each side by two of the many restraints that hung from the ceiling. Her hands were limp, pads of her fingers torn in earlier attempts of taking some of the weight off her hunched form.

The shallow pools of frigid saltwater that she knelt in rippled ever so gently, lapping at her muddied fatigues. Whatever had caused the disturbance in the gore stained water elicited a sudden twitch from the prisoner. The thick, tangled braid hanging over her shoulder swayed with the miniscule motion, bumping against red and black bruises.

Dark eyes raised slightly from where they had been staring through near-closed lids at the battered reflection in the water. The gash rising from her jaw stung with sweat, bruises and torn muscles screaming at the barest movement. Another flake of dried blood fell from her forehead to float like a tiny boat in the puddle before it dissolved and sank beneath its grimy surface.

The door groaned under its own weight as it opened, though the woman didn’t make an effort to raise her head. Boots polished to perfection and light of step in the filth of the room advanced towards her, the man shaped monster that owned them sweeping in with a cocky stride.

He held an iron rod in his right hand, the end mashed and mangled in a jagged, flattened mockery of claws. He set it on the steel table as he approached. Seized a fistful of her pitch black hair behind one pointed ear and yanked her head up to leer over her.

“It’s time to start again, little elf.” Impossibly sharp teeth glinted in the yellow light, golden flame of the Broddring Empire high on his lean chest. “What is your answer?”

Her split lips barely moved, beads of blood leaving them with the the lightest trace of sound as she whispered her reply. The Shade leaned closer, giving her hair a brutal yank as his own lips curling up in anticipation of finally having broken her. “Speak up, little elf. Tell me what you know and I will end this for you.”

And as he came face to face with her the woman’s eyes flared open, burning with the unbroken spirit that her body could not reflect.

She turned into his grip and spat a mouthful of blood in his face.

The Shade jerked back and released his hold on the woman before spinning her head to the side with a vicious backhand. Her cheek split, but even under the sheets of fresh blood and the wild hair that obscured part of her visage, it was clear that she was smiling. Her shoulders shook with low laughter, paying no heed to the cracks and rifts the movements made in the wounds across her back.

The man shaped monster straightened and wiped away the crimson that splattered his pale skin, movements carefully controlled to contain the rage and bloodlust that seethed beneath the surface.

“Very well, little elf.” His words were tight with malice as he took up the iron rod once again. The end glowed ruddy orange at his command. “It’s time to start again.”

Her laughter continued until the first strike landed.

“Turn it off.”

Islanzadí’s order was quiet. Elrün, the elf she had assigned to this section of the Gil’ead records rooms, stopped the disks playback before the words had fully left his Queen’s mouth.

Behind him, were the elvish Queen stood, Elrün could hear the nearly imperceptible clicks of the wood fibers in his chair’s back snapping under the woman’s white knuckled grip. “…Your Majesty…what would you have me do with these?”

“There are more?” The question was sharp compared to her previously subdued voice. “How many?”

Elrün looked away from the computer bay he was sat at, swallowing back his own anger as he removed the stack of jacketed disks from where he had hidden them. To see one of his people so brutally treated had repulsed him. Knowing who exactly the prisoner had been…that welled up even more rage in his chest. “There are…eleven disks in total, ma’am. The timestamps indicate that…” He stopped, feeling the Queen remove her hands from his chair to prevent it from breaking. “Indicate that these were only recorded over the course of a month.”

He didn’t have to say which month. She had seen the date on the video, and it hung unspoken in the air.

The damage they had seen in that particular recording had only been dealt in the first week.

Elrün cleared his throat when Islanzadí did not speak. “What would you have me do with them?”

The Queen was silent for another moment before holding out her hand. “Give them to me. I will ask the Ambassador what she wishes to be done. It is her decision.”

“Yes ma’am.”

A/N: Pt 2 is in the works for reals guys. There’s like...3-4 different versions that have been started and I just need to settle on which goes the most smoothly tomorrow while I wait for class. 

Explanation ramble incoming...

IF IT WASN’T CLEAR: Many police interrogations are filmed. It’s always tweaked my brain that Islanzadi and the elves took Gil’ead and that, in my headcanons, Islanzadi ripped apart that fucking prison with her own scary magic because of buried mama bear instincts or something, and I found it really odd that we never saw a reaction from mother or daughter about Izzy taking the place that Arya was captured. 

Then it kinda hit me this weekend that what if Durza, thinking he would break her quickly, had, like many of his other interrogations, filmed multiple torture sessions the first month or so of Arya’s imprisonment, to be sure that any information she gave would be recorded. And then while the elves were combing records to see if the Empire had turned any Vardon prisoners into double agents, someone found the recordings and handed them off to Izzy. 

It also really bothers me that Islanzadi pretty much (and this is canon I’ve checked it) pretty much victim blames Arya when she returns. Instead of blaming the Varden, which was an asshole thing to do anyway, Izzy realizes she needs to restart contact with the rebellion and then turns to Arya and is like “You wouldn’t have been tortured if you hadn’t gotten that tattoo young lady” because whAT THE FUCK, WOMAN?! 

And I wanted Arya knowing that her torture wasn’t some fucked up choice some made like saying ‘hey Durza, torture me.’ and knowing that she is not responsible for the Empire just being a brutal fucking bag of fucks, and Izzy FINALLY apologizing for saying it was Arya’s fault. 

Anyway, yeah, the A/N is longer than the fic again. Sorry!!

[myotishia]

In the air part one

Fandom: Torchwood. Trigger warnings: None I don't think but tell me if I've missed anything. Characters: Owen Harper, Toshiko Sato, Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Gwen Cooper, Elise Carter (oc) Rating: Teen and up

Blurb: A relaxed wedding dress fitting turns into a new case for the team as the streets are suddenly abandoned.

“How does your leg feel?” Asked Owen as he pulled on his gloves.

Elise shrugged and pulled up the side of her skirt to show her bandaged thigh. “Sore as hell, but no more than I’d expect. How long until I can put weight on it properly?”

“You were lucky, it didn’t hit the bone or any major blood vessels so you can maybe put your full weight on it again in a week or so. I was more worried about the chance of infection.”

“I tried to keep it away from the mud.”

“You did pretty well, but gunshot wounds are a bitch. Even clean shots that are treated immediately can get infected and that’s how you end up in surgery.” He removed the bandage and dressing as gently as he could, happy that the wound looked clean.

“How is it?”

“Your leg’s going to drop off.”

She rolled her eyes. “Asshat.”

“It’ll be fine, just keep it clean and dry. I’ll redress it for you this time.”

“Thanks. How are you?”

“Me? There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“A guy almost killed you.”

“And you shot him in the hip. Keep still.” He continued treating her thigh, knowing that it must be hurting. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had a gun pointed at me.”

“That’s scary in itself.”

“Tosh said your watch was broken.”

“I’ll fix it after we’re done here.” She took it from her wrist, turning it over in her hands. “The casing and screen look fine. The fall probably just knocked a wire out of place.”

“I didn’t think you’d still need it.”

A short silence filled the room, neither party wanting to speak about her missing friend.

“I’m still going to have the dreams or whatever they are. My weirdness isn’t completely gone.”

“You sound sure of that.”

“I am. Time travel comes at a price. I’m ok with that.”

He looked up from his work. “You think you can still time jump?”

“Only twenty four hours either way, at most, but it’s something. I don’t know the distance I can go yet.”

“You shouldn’t use it. You don’t have someone who knows how to control it anymore.” Owen had never looked more serious in his life. “Just let it go and be human for a while.”

“Are you worried about me?”

“Of course I am!” He snapped, throwing his gloves into the bin.

Elise sat up and reached out for his arm. “Owen… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to …”

“Just leave it... You’re going to be on desk duty for a while. You’ve got to write up your report about the Pharm anyway.”

“Owen… When I’m all healed up would you mind training me to be a proper field agent?”

“Me? You realise I’m the Hub fuck up. You might want to go to Jack for that.” He smirked.

“You’re reckless, stubborn and trigger happy... but that’s what makes you good at what you do. I know I run into things and just say fuck it to the risks but I wouldn’t even be here if I didn’t.”

“We’ll talk about it once you’re healed, for now you’ve got paperwork to do. And tell Tosh her girlfriend’s crazy.”

“Will do.” She smiled.

Ianto placed Elise’s morning coffee on her desk. “I hope you’re going to be better than Owen was on desk duty.”

“Oh?”

“Have you ever seen the shining?”

“Really? That bad?”

“Luckily an axe won’t put a dent on most of the doors here. It only ended when he cut the cast off his leg and told us that if he didn’t go out soon he’d start posing bodies around the Hub out of boredom. I believed him.”

She laughed into her mug. “I promise I won’t go posing bodies around the place.”

“If you want to get some fresh air tomorrow I’ve got a wedding dress fitting to get to. You can come along if you like. You’ll probably do a lot of sitting around but it’s better than being stuck here.” Smiled Gwen, finally able to think about her wedding in the quiet moment.

“Thanks. That sounds fun. I’ve never even seen a wedding dress in real life before.”

Both Ianto and Gwen looked a little shocked.

“What? I’ve never been to a wedding and we didn’t have a bridal wear shop anywhere near where I lived.”

Gwens look softened, returning to her previous excitement. “You are going to have so much fun. I’ve got some cake samples to pick up too.”

“What makes wedding cake different than other cake? I know it’s fancier but what makes it specifically a wedding cake?”

“Normal cake goes off after a week. Wedding cake seems to last forever and can be used to build bomb shelters.” Ianto said drily before returning to his duties with a smile.

“Oh, don’t listen to him. It’s mostly just because it’s fancy but I really want it to actually be edible.”

“How is Rhys?”

“He’s fine. Taking everything in his stride as per usual. He’s not as paranoid now he knows what I actually do.”

“That’s fair.”

“Though I think he’s still a bit iffy with Jack.”

“Also fair. I don’t think he knows the difference between casual conversation and flirting.”

“Sooo, how’s things between you and Tosh?”

“Good. Really good.”

“She does seem so much happier than before. It’s nice.”

After a very entertaining dress fitting that reminded Gwen that she needed to eat even if she was stressed they headed out. Elise being a little slow as she moved with one crutch. On the street it seemed eerily silent. As it was lunch time it should have been bustling but only the birds made a noise. Workers from the surrounding shops looked out of their windows, just as confused. Gwens police instincts kicked in when she saw a car with its doors left open, shopping bags left abandoned in the road.

“Wait here. I’ll be right back.” Said Gwen before rushing across the road to one of the opposing shops to talk to one of the staff. They seemed in shock.

“What happened out there?” She asked, trying to seem like just any other person walking onto the scene.

The worker, a young man who wore a lanyard around his neck emblazoned with the stores name, just shook his head. “I… I don’t know. Everyone just started walking down the street. All at once… They just turned and walked off like zombies.”

“Did you hear anything strange? See anything?”

“No. I was putting the new posters up in the window and it was like someone flicked a switch… Is it one of those flash mob things do you think?”

“No idea… Thanks.” She returned to Elise who was leaning on the bridal stores wall.

“He see anything?”

“Apparently everyone just turned and walked off down the street.”

“Should we follow?”

“Get in the car. We can call it in on the way.”

Elise took her phone from her pocket and got into the car, dialling into the comms line for the Hub.

“Having fun ladies?” Jacks voice rose from the device.

“Having a blast, just a quick question, is the rift doing it’s happy dance?” Elise asked.

“We’ve had a few spikes, why?”

“Well, everyone on the street got pied pipered a few minutes ago.”

“Any idea where they’re heading?”

“We’re following now.”

“Don’t get too close. We’re on our way.” He hung up the call.

Ahead of the car a large crowd walked in unison, seemingly in a trance. Gwen repeatedly pressed the horn but they didn’t even flinch. She parked up to the side and took her comms earpiece from the glove compartment.

“Wait here. I’m going up ahead.” She said, not waiting for a response.

Elise opened her door and pulled herself out. “You shouldn’t go alone.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m just going to look.” She rushed off ahead of the entranced people.

They all seemed to be converging on a car park outside a large garden centre. Due to it being closed that day there were no cars but as Gwen managed to push her way through the sea of people she saw where they were all going. A large sinkhole had formed, dropping into darkness. The people around her stood around the edge, unmoving. No matter what she did she couldn’t wake anyone.

As sudden as it had began, it ended. All at once people began looking around, confused before a panic broke out at being that close to the edge of the sinkhole. People scattered in all directions and Gwen had to admit she was a little thankful for being on the inside so she didn’t get trampled.

Jack looked over the edge of the now sixteen foot wide sinkhole, light hitting a perfectly flat obsidian surface below. The whole car park had been cordoned off with temporary plywood walls, usually used to keep people out of construction sites, much to the displeasure of the Garden centres manager.

“At least it’s stopped.” Jack turned away from the hole. “What do we know?”

“Fuck all.” Owen began.

Tosh interjected, “Noone remembers anything. One moment they were in one place and then they woke up here. Though whatever it was didn’t seem to affect anyone in a building when it started. There was a spike in rift energy but nothing big enough for this.”

“How far did it span?” The captain stepped away from the edge.

“A mile radius of the holes centre.”

“Sounds like we’re going to have to get down there.” He picked up a nearby rock and tossed it into the hole. It landed with a light tap and skittered across the obsidian surface as if it were ice.

Ianto and Elise had been sent to speak to the Garden centre manager and sat in the womans sparse office.

“This is all I need. This whole place has been falling apart since last Sunday.”

“Falling apart?” Asked Ianto, keeping detailed notes as the woman had spoken chaotically before and it was easier to keep up with what she was on about in bullet points.

“Yes! First every last fuse in this place blew. Even the ones in the plugs. Then my staff start calling in sick. They didn’t sound bloody sick. Then we had a new palette of apple tree saplings just shrivel and rot overnight for no reason. Same day we had a flock of pigeons slam themselves into the building in the middle of the bloody day. We had kids screaming and crying and noone wanted to clean that mess up. Then! As if it couldn’t get worse the water has to be turned off because some bloody thing’s in it. Do you know how much water a garden centre needs to keep running?!”

“Ma’am… Can we see the water please? And the apple trees if you still have them.”

“As long as you get that sinkhole filled in you can do what you like.”

“Well, if you could show my colleague here I can gather my things to get some samples.”

“Yes. Yes. Maybe you’ll get more than that useless plumber did.”

The manageress lead them down to the main warehouse and Ianto quickly walked back to the SUV to grab some gloves and sample jars. When he returned the manager was still complaining at Elise.

“It’s everywhere in the building and god the smell!”

“I’m sure we’ll find the source ma’am.” Elise droned, barely paying attention.

“Oh good, you’re back. Here.” The woman turned the tap and a black, oily looking liquid started pouring out. Ianto had just taken the sample when the smell hit them. It stank like rancid meat with a heavy tint of iron. The manageress ran off to throw up in one of the bins.

Elise turned off the tap. “Jesus. Did something die in their water tank?”

“They don’t have a water tank. This is from the mains.” He held the small plastic jar up to the light but even the relatively bright sunshine couldn’t permeate the liquid.

“I don’t now if it’s the water or the bigass hole out there but this place gives me the creeps.”

He had to admit the place, though otherwise completely mundane, did make him nervous. A creeping dread that rose up his spine and made him want to jump at every sound. He looked around for the dead saplings as the manageress was still hunched over a bin. In the corner of the warehouse, nearest the loading bay, sat a palate of potted saplings. Each was withered and mould had started to develop on the surface of the soil. Using a set of clippers and a hand trowel he took samples from one of the pots, the same smell that came from the tainted water oozed from the cuts on the plant. Ianto stood back as his stomach turned.

Elise made her way over to the exhausted looking manageress. “We’ve got what we need. We’ll contact you as soon as we know more. Why don’t you head home. It’s not safe to work around tainted water.”

The poor woman nodded.

Outside, Ianto took a deep breath, appreciating the fresh air. He still couldn’t shake the nervous feeling.

“You feel as out of sorts as I do?” Asked Elise, sitting in the back seat of the SUV with her arm over her eyes.

“Do you think it was the water?”

“We didn’t even touch it.”

Ianto paused before an idea came to mind. He leaned over to one of the computers, setting up a sound sensor to monitor all frequencies.

Elise pulled her arm away from her eyes. “What’s up?”

He looked over the levels on the screen. “Infrasound.”

“Huh?”

“It’s very low frequency sound, anything below 20Hz. Not audible by humans. It’s usually used for underground monitoring because it doesn’t disperse the way higher frequencies do.  It can cause nausea, paranoia, nervousness and in the worst cases, hallucinations. A lot of ghost sightings come from it.”

“Is that why we feel like crap?”

“Looks that way. It doesn’t explain the water though.”

“Do you think that’s what made the birds dive into the building?”

“Maybe but I don’t think so. It can mess with their directional mapping but it doesn’t make whole flocks suicidal… I’m going to go and tell the others.”

“I’m gonna stay here and rest.” She put her arm back over her eyes. “So much for desk duty, eh?”

Owen stepped down onto the obsidian surface, double checking his safety line just in case it collapsed. Jack had already ventured down into the sinkhole but Owen had been fooled before by Jacks oddly catlike grace. The sinkhole was unusual in that the walls didn’t have any kind of overhang. It had fallen away and left what looked like carved walls of earth. Walking across the glasslike surface it became clear that whatever it might be was hollow.

“Can you see any sign of a hatch?” He asked, finding it hard to focus his vision on the light absorbing stone.

“Not a thing.” The captain crouched down, running his fingers over the surface, hoping to feel more than he could see. He suddenly pulled back, a sharp pain shooting through his fingertips. A thin line of blood dripped from each finger and down onto the floor where it was absorbed. A loud rumbling filled the area and Jack turned to run back to the ladder.

“Out now!” He ordered.

Owen did not need telling twice, clambering up like a frightened ape. As soon as his feet were on secure earth he turned to make sure Jack was right behind him. The previously flat surface was becoming an upside down pyramid made of many steps. Starting at the centre each layer descended, threatening to pull Jack down to what he guessed would be a very nasty, if temporary, death. He reached out and grabbed the ladder that was thankfully secured from above and wrenched himself up. His cut fingers sliding but thankfully not dropping him. Ianto and Owen took a wrist each and pulled him up and out of the sinkhole.

“The fuck was that?!” Asked Owen, looking back at where he’d been standing.

Jack looked down at his hand, at the paper fine cuts that decorated his fingertips.

Owen took a swift trip back to the hub with Elise, wanting to test the samples that Ianto had gathered. He could only do a certain amount in the field and the this had stopped being an oddity and started being a very dangerous case.

The ‘water’ sample showed traces of blood, grey matter and microscopic bone fragments, all slowly rotting. The blood, though decomposing and tainted did present as a mix of human and animal. The apple tree sapling cuttings were rotten on the outside but the very centre showed new growth, soaking up the tainted water from its soil. Even the mould sitting on the surface of the soil showed signs of death and regrowth.

“The thing is drinking people?” Asked Elise from a safe distance.  

“It looks more like the liquid’s being pumped into the plant to change it.”

“That still sounds like a vampire plant.”

Owen suddenly stepped back from his work, switching on his comms awkwardly with his shoulder. “You all need to get away from there. It needs to be quarantined. Everything that’s been tainted already needs to be quarantined too. That includes you Harkness!” He turned to Elise. “Did you touch anything?”

“No. Ianto took the samples and he was wearing gloves. But the garden centre staff did.”

“Shit! Get a list of their staff. They need to be isolated. Call it a possible biological weapon. We’ve got a building we can use as a hospital. I need to know how many people have already been infected.”

When Torchwood is in a full outbreak alert they work shockingly quickly.  They’d already rounded up many of the staff and they did not look healthy. Owen tested himself for infection before the others even got back and after a very fast decontamination shower he pulled on a hazmat suit and got to work on his team. Elise, Ianto, Tosh and Gwen were all clean and had to go through the same process. Jack was not so lucky. His fingertips were already showing signs of infection. Owen suspected it was working faster on him as it had infected his blood directly.

He was taken to the ‘hospital’ and given a room, not arguing as he knew Owen wouldn’t do all this without a very serious reason.

“Owen, what’s this going to do to me?” he asked, no longer able to move his hand.

“It kills its host and then brings them back with that meat sludge in the pipes. Maybe your body will be able to fight it off but…”

“It’s ok. I understand. I’m leaving this up to you.”

Owen replied with a nod and Jack resigned himself to staying where he was. The infection was spreading too fast for him to fight and he just hoped that when he came back it would be gone. He lay down and tried not to think about the burning sensation rising up his arm. At least Owen would have a test subject. Owen leant on the wall outside of the room, reflecting on what a disaster this had all become. He hated the idea but he might have to call in UNIT for help. No, not yet. They might try and blow up the obsidian structure and spread it even further. He needed to know what would happen to a mammal at the point of death and he hated the idea of using Jack.

Gwen watched the infected rat plod lethargically around its tank. She felt so sorry for the creature that was obviously in pain, its tail blackened and bone exposed. If it hadn’t been a pandemic level issue even Owen may have put it down by this point. The rodent stopped and fell onto its side.

“Owen... “

He’d asked her to call him at the moment the animal passed. Under the hazmat suit he looked haggard, trying to keep all of his patients from rioting out of fear. A screen next to the tank showed that the rats heart and brain function had stopped. It was then that it twitched.

Gwen jumped at the movement but even she knew that random electrical signals can do that to a body just after death. What didn’t usually happen was the body getting back onto its feet. The dead rat moved to the side of the tank, testing where it was before backing up and ramming the side. The tank was undamaged but the creature continued trying to ram into the side. Owen signaled for Gwen to move to the other side of the table with him. The rat changed its trajectory. It was actively trying to get to them.

“It’s a... “ Gwen began.

“Don’t say it… Make sure anyone that gets too far gone is restrained out there.”

Twenty hours had passed since the people out in the street had been drawn to the sinkhole and the virus was mostly contained but as Tosh looked up from her power nap her stomach dropped. The tv she’d left on for some white noise played a news report. It was happening again and this time people were carrying meat and livestock towards the obsidian pit. The entranced people crashed through the cordon as if it weren’t even there and lead the animals onto the steps. Each edge seem to slice through the creatures like a knife. Those caught under its spell were feeding it. She shot up to report what the news had been showing, rushing past Jacks room. She stopped for a moment and looked over at the captain. He was pale, hunched over and holding his head.

“Jack?”

He looked up with unfocused eyes, agony etched into his face. “Calling… It’s calling… Won’t stop…”

“The pit?” She dared take a step into the room.

“It wants food… powers it… Machine… Controls… us.”

“It’s a machine? What does it do? Jack?” Another step closer.

“Heart… It... a heart…”

Another step. She was pulled sharply back by Ianto as Jack lunged for her. He pulled her out of the room and locked Jack inside. Jack roared and slammed his fists against the door, unable to fight the infection any longer.

“I heard him too. Come on.” Ianto said, finally releasing his grip on his coworker.

They ran to report what they’d been told and Jacks condition, trying to think of some way to end all this.

Ianto and Gwen pulled on their body armor and respirators before heading towards the pit. Covered head to toe in kevlar they moved towards the centre, diamond bladed saw in hand. Sparks shot into the air as the saw cut into the stone. In retaliation the pit began to rise and flatten itself out again as if that would protect it from the blade. The chunk of rock finally fell through, landing with an earth shattering boom. No going back, they descended into the structure.

The walls were smooth and as black as the exposed part had been but the floor was white, like bone. Red veins pulsed around the edges of the floor. They followed the crimson vessels deeper, finding that the smooth walls gave way to what looked like cogs, grinding dryly. Any oil having long dried up. The further they walked the more machinery clanged and screeched, louder by the moment. Many of the vessels began to converge and wind together like muscles, pulsing. Even through the respirator Ianto felt like he could smell that rancid stench that had attacked his senses from the tap.

The bundles of vessels lead into a final, huge chamber. Its walls were slick and crimson, the vessels emptying down them like a fountain. Below the pools churned and bubbled. Finally in the centre, held up like a marionette was a figure. It stood over nine feet tall and its leathery skin clung tightly to its horribly emaciated form. It looked as if it had been dead for centuries until it opened its eyes, blind and milky. It began to move with a horrible creaking and a familiar grinding from its ribcage, the pools of blood being drawn towards it. The metal tubes that snaked into its head rattled and groaned.

Back at the hospital all had gone silent but only for a moment. Every one of the infected began shrieking and trying to fight their restraints, all facing in the direction of the pit. It was so loud that Owen feared some may destroy their own vocal chords. He could just hear the awful noise of joints dislocating, under the screams, as the patients pulled their restraints with no concern for their own wellbeing.

Gwen and Ianto aimed at the huge creatures head. It looked around as if something or someone should have been running to its aid but it found itself abandoned. Both agents fired at once, each bullet leaving a perfect hole through its head that poured out more of the rotten viscera. It thrashed, only succeeding in pulling the wires that held it up from its skin, before finally falling limp. Still the cogs moved. Ianto pointed up to the creatures chest that still clanked and werred. Gwen stepped forward and gritted her teeth before grabbing onto the skin of the hanging figures abdomen, pulling as hard as she could.  The membrane tore away to reveal more gears, mummified flesh still stuck to the metal. In the very centre an obsidian core sat, turning slowly.

She moved out of the way as a very angry Ianto revved up the saw, lifting it up and pushing it as hard as he could into the core. It sparked in a shower of red and white before everything fell still.

The hospital was suddenly silent, all movement stopped and Owen hoped beyond hope that whatever had happened hadn’t killed every one of the people under his care. He was almost relieved when he heard the garden centre manageress gasping and sobbing as she looked at her dislocated wrist.

After hours spent sending people either home or to local hospitals Owen unlocked Jacks room. He looked his usual self, seemingly napping quite happily. He opened one clear blue eye and smiled.

“I think I broke the door.” He pointed to a fist sized hole in the door.

“You’re feeling better then.”

“I don’t remember anything after climbing into that sinkhole. Usually when that happens there’s alcohol involved and I don’t wake up alone.”

Gwen and Ianto got back to the hub and immediately headed to shower. Their clothing, hair and even shoes stank of rot. They both felt like there wasn’t enough soap in the world to wash it away but it was worth a try. They were separated by a wall but sound travelled well in the tiled room.  

“I could sleep for days after this.” Gwen said as she ran shampoo through her hair for the third time.

“That’s the plan. My shoulders are killing me.”

“Well you did hold that saw over your head.”

“I was annoyed.”

“Remind me to never annoy you.”

The Hub was quiet for the next three days while everyone recovered from their exhaustion. The pit was filled with concrete and paved over and life went on as if nothing had happened. That was always their best case scenario. Forgotten. A myth.

Inside the Hub was different. No one was ever really forgotten, especially when their leaving happened to coincide with an injury. Elise sighed to herself, feeling the bandage around her thigh through her trousers. The quiet in her mind had become more noticeable as the days passed and it left a dark fog in its wake. She missed their quiet conversations and always having someone there. She couldn’t let herself dwell on the matter, she had to let it go.

She stood and stretched, able to stand and limp around without her crutch, at least for a little while.

“Have you read it yet?” Asked Jack, leaning on her desk.

“Read what?”

“The letter that was left for you.”

She shook her head and sat back down in her chair. “I can’t even look at it right now. I copied it onto my own computer, my phone, a USB stick so I could whenever but… Not yet. I will, but not yet.”

“You should. It might help you.” Jack looked behind her as Owen placed his hands on her shoulders.

“Mind if I borrow this?” He asked as she jumped in surprise.

“As long as you bring her back in one piece.”

Jack took his leave.

Elise turned to look at Owen. “What do you need?”

“You looked uncomfortable and I’m bored.”

She laughed softly.

“Come on, I don’t want your aim getting rusty if I’m going to be the one blamed for training you. You should be fine standing for a bit.”

“Sounds good.” She stood and slowly limped after him.

“And when you’re healed up we need to work on your running speed.”

“I’m not that slow.”

“Tosh can run faster than you in high heels and a skirt. Yea, you are.”

“It’s not my fault that you’re all related to sodding racehorses.”

“Up your game Carter.”

“Don’t use my words.” She slapped his arm playfully.

[neth-dugan]

Nine Worlds - Sunday

Saturday found [HERE]

I woke up on Sunday not feeling really tired, but also really sad that it would be the last day. And on Sunday stuff ends earlier too which is also a bummer. I get why, some have to leave in the evening but it’s still sad. This was also the day when I had the most panels to sit on. 

AIs AND SUPERINTELLIGENCES - ARE THEY REALLY COMING FOR US?

...bonus points if you recognise this movie that wasn’t mentioned in the talk.

A good portion of this was on the history of computing, which was interesting, From pre-electronics to Ada Lovelace to Alan Turing to Siri.

I wish I remembered more. it went through a few modern computers that had passed various landmarks such as chess and go and the like. And then the ‘scary’ bit that sci-fi doesn’t tend to cover so much. If an AI comes about there is a good chance it’ll focus on one task and obsess over it, and do so in a way that human brains don’t get  and can’t really combat. Like, they could focus so much on one menial thing that they take over the planet to make the perfect paperclips.

To me, a question at this point is does this count as an AI? If it can’t reason its way that destroying the world to make a paperclip is a tad much is it a true AI or just a very very smart and resourceful paperclip making software. 

It’s not like I’d expect AIs to think in the same way humans do, but some ability to reason and set their own goals or change their minds would seem to be a part of it. And endlessly striving towards perfecting one goal originally programmed into them by a human that they can’t break free of? Not sure that counts. I know even humans can be very goal orientated, and some of us can focus very intently on things and that is our thing. But the way the speaker was talking about it sounded different. I don’t know. Would be interesting to stick people from different fields in a room and have a chat about it.

A thing I found interesting in all this talk of AIs going way too OTT to fulfil an imperative, and AIs taking over for whatever reason... there was no mention of texts where humans wilfully submit. Which, granted, there aren’t a lot. I had to run off after this for my own panel but I made sure I told the speaker about Travellers. It isn’t the main plot of the story or anything but worth checking out for how they do the AI thing.

OUR LAST, BEST HOPE FOR SCIENCE FICTION:25 YEARS OF BABYLON 5

It’s been twenty five years since the B5 pilot, and it’s still one of the best science fictions hows out there, and one with far too little recognition. Last year, @knittedace and I kept saying we need to do a B5 panel this year. Needed to do one. Turns out we weren’t the only ones an a bunch of us submitted a proposal for one, and the Nine Worlds content folk shoved us into an e-mail group together and let us figure it out. Which is amazing, but also daunting because there is so much to talk about for this show. @knittedace decided she’d rather be in the audience but still, so much fun.

One of our panelists cosplayed as Londo last year and offered to do so again for this panel. Someone, at some point, suggested he remain in character for the panel, and so it began. Ambassador Mollari moderating it which a bottle of his favourite tipple on hand, and Centauri woman on hand to keep him in line, a Bajoran Starfleet officer trying to bridge rifts and a human along for the ride.

...the Bajoran Starfleet officer (me) praying to Susan Ivanova

Funnily enough, the night before this I was approached by a guy who was going to be on my Star Trek panel. It turns out he has a Psi Cop uniform and wondered if I wanted him to turn up in it. I said yes please, that would be fantastic. And when he turned up? It was a very good uniform, and as an impromptu thing I asked if he wouldn’t mind staying in character for the session. He said yes and it was so good.

...the Corps is mother, the Corps is father.

People noticed coming in that he was there, and what he was doing, and I think a few were rather tickled by it. Before the panel proper started I did warn them all that we had him there, and as such we all needed to send him nasty thoughts in 5, 4, 3, 2...1. And he played along. There was a fair bit of this going on through the panel at different bits and I don’t know how it looked to others, but sitting on stage it felt great.

We did a quick stop tour about a lot of things. The fantastic women of B5, and how they’re all different from each other. How characters grow and change and have depth, and in fact there is a lot of change in B5. We talked a fair bit about how it shows the rise of racism and how insidious it can be. How it can sneak up on you. And how we need to learn from that. How it did well regarding diversity, especially given its time and how it made Ivanova bi and treated same gender marriage as a simple fact of life in the time period of the show.

One line I remember fondly coming from Londo was “Behold Minbari Jesus - his name is Jeff”. Which made me laugh inside a fair bit.

We talked a lot about our favourite moments. I couldn’t choose. I was stuck between this moment, this moment, and the War Without End two parter. Londo stepped out of character and the real person talked about this amazing scene between Londo and G’Kar that you can see here and I’ll never do justice describing. 

We also talked about Michael O’Hare. It turns out not everybody knew his story, so here is a link to JMS himself talking about it. But in short, he wasn’t well and had some mental health issues going on in the first season to the point where he had to leave at the end. Nobody on the cast knew, they thought he was just odd or short tempered but had no idea. JMS got him as much support as he could on set, ready to pull the plug when he needed to. Which he did at the end of the season. O’Hare told JMS that when he died, he could tell the world what had happened. And so JMS did. 

It amazes me what that man went through, that he was determined to keep the show going, keep all the people working on it employed and tell that story even though it was hard and there had been offers to stop production. It makes me sad that he felt the stigma around mental health to the point where he couldn’t be open about it, or that he wasn’t able to receive better treatment whilst working. We do know that he did get treatment and he eventually got better as he appeared in season three for two episodes and you can visibly tell he looks better.

Babylon 5 has had a lot of deaths in its cast over the years. A lot, especially considering it wasn’t even made that long ago. In the group we’d decided we were definitely going to do a moment of silence in the memory of those now beyond the rim. And though I think we were going to do it at the end, it felt right to do it after talking about O’Hare, as he is one of those deaths. He died of reasons unrelated to his mental illness, for those wondering. 

...two of those now lost to us. 

Despite that sombre note, we had a fantastic panel and had a great time. Our resident Psi Cop took the microphone around the audience for us instead of one of the tech volunteers (who usually do it). We had a few people in Star Trek costumes, myself included, and we did mention Star Trek and DS9. All without being mean, hostile or falling into that trap of ‘we must be rivals and look down on DS9′ thing you see in some B5 groups. 

I’d declared there would be none of this on the group chat before, all agreed, and at least one person mentioned to me after that they were glad this didn’t happen. So yay.

Also, at the end I declared one side of the room purple, and one side green. The room was decently full and even if one side didn’t go back as far, I don’t think there was a massive difference in numbers. So after checking it was okay with everyone, we had a shouting contest and whichever side won, won for their team.

Purple won. Even if I weren’t on the panel, I still think this would be a up on events this year.

FAT REPRESENTATION IN GEEK CULTURE, PART TWO (SECOND BREAKFAST)

A sequel to a pane a couple years back that I wasn’t at, this was amazing. It was, in large, a big group therapy session on living life when you’re big. How you’re treated and dismissed and harassed and ridiculed. How people will justify it as being ‘concerned for your health’ which is a a bunch of bull. The ignorance and also how the way we grow up and society leads to self loathing and the like. The need for body positivity and how some parts of the fashion world are starting to cater to us.

It was pretty freeing. Nine worlds in general is pretty great about size. I’ve never felt shamed for being large. Never felt out of place for it or looked at the wrong way. But this space especially was really great. 

There are things you don’t get if you aren’t fat. The way people can look at you when you eat, the way you’re sometimes scared to eat your fill, the way being your body is seen as itself an imposition on the space of others just by existing or sitting down. The way you’re always so conscious of that. Of that person who jumps out of their seat next to you the minute they can to go sit somewhere else. Anywhere else. 

So this? I loved this.

...now, if people designing clothes for us fat folk would realise that me being fat does not mean I have big boobs. Or that some of us carry in the stomach a ton. And design for that. And get models for that. 

If they do this again next year? I am going back. That is for sure. 

SUBVERTING BRO CULTURE AND FANWORKS

Whilst waiting for this to start, being the only panelist in the room for a while and not wanting to stare ate folks, I struck up a conversation around B5 and Star Trek, I think. I know B5 was in there at least. But, y’know, nerd convention. To be expected.

I was asked to be on this pretty late, had the least prep out of the four I sat on or ran, and mostly agreed for the Check, Please! content that would likely pop up. There was a lot of sports fandom stuff which I don’t know so well, but also a lot of things that work fandom wide. And culture wide. And another panelist knew a lot about a game I know nothing of, but themselves knew nothing of Check, Please! It was kinda amusing, but still worked some how I think.

It occurred to me, that maybe one of the reasons you get so many coffee shop AUs (and similar) is to take these characters doing dangerous things in very bro culture places and put them into a different place. A less bro place, a safer place. I’m still fed up of the things but I do wonder if that’s the case, and that makes me think of them better.

If you look at fandom, at some of the popular tropes or tendencies you see a lot of this. Characters in a very masculine environment, and fandom deconstructing that somehow. Either by complete AUs or by building families or what have you.

There was a lot of real life sports situations, sports fandoms and real life bro culture at college. How some places are trying to dismantle this but especially in universities with the constant turnover of students etc it takes real effort and framework. 

Oh, also, lots of good things said about Brooklyn Nine Nine. Which. Yes. That show is so good and subverts so many stereotypes and it doesn’t have the ‘chase you endlessly’ guy ‘win’ the girl, but eventually realise they need to back off. And Terry. And Jake who starts off not the best, though still better than most, and just gets better and better. And. And. Good show on subverting bro culture, that one. Also lots of talk of Black Sails, but I know nothing of this sadly. One of its actors turned up and was on a panel I think? Don’t know which actor or which panel though, but that is awesome. I’d so do that in their position too.

STAR TREK: DISCOVERY - SQUEE AND MOAN

Some time last year before the show aired, a bunch of nerds decided we would likely want to talk about this show at Nine Worlds and all submitted the idea of ‘Star Trek: Discovery. Something. We’ll figure it out later’. And then much like my B5 group, we were all thrown in together to figure it out. It seems like my title was kept but honestly? It wasn’t a ton of moan. The panelists were all fans, something I warned the room of ahead of time.

Much like my Queer Dax panel last year, there were a fair few people in the room before start time. So we ended up having a pre-panel panel on Star Trek in general and the new Picard series specifically. I also recommended ‘A Stitch in Time’ by Andrew Robinson (Garak) and how you can get it as an eBook now. I know for a fact at least one person has since bought it. Muahahahaha.

Our friend the Psi Cop from earlier had now changed uniform to TOS movies uniform, now a proud Starfleet officer. A far better costume than my TNG uniform hoodie and pin. After asking permission to audio record it, he did so and so you can listen to the entire panel here. It’s about an hour long but I think interesting.

Honestly, I could’ve kept talking about it for ages. I had notes of what we’d agreed to talk about on e-mail, and which order of priority they sat at. Of course new stuff pops up and the flow of it means you may miss a thing or flip the order a bit but I find having that sort of thing really useful. I tweeted about it later and Doug Jones, Saru himself, liked it so yay. Someone on the cast knows a convention full of nerds in England love his work.

We talked about diversity, how like other Treks this one was made to fit the world we live in as it is made. How the tone of sci-fi has shifted and if that’s impacted things. Diversity and representation. Some things we didn’t think were so great. But generally it was a big ‘WE LOVE YOU’ fest.

It was also the last formal panel of Nine worlds. I think there were a two things in the slot after, but this was in the last major slot. It was an honour really.

FOOD AND DINNER AND REST OH MY

So I’d been separated rom @knittedace and @laalratty most of the day. I was also a bit tired and kinda wondering around the bar area when I came across @unwoundbobbin and proposed the four of us go to dinner if everyone was okay with it. But I did need to go to my room and rest a bit.

So I did, everyone was good with the idea, though it took the three of us a while to get back downstairs to meet up with @unwoundbobbin again. There was some Slash played but we went off to Wagamama’s for dinner where we had great food and good conversation. Me and @knittedace were out of costume at this point. 

It was sad. End of the con. But there was one formal thing left...

THE NOT THE END OF THE CON QUIZ

The quiz at the end of the convention. It is tradition, though it was also a new group of people doing it this year.

The four of us got a table, and found ourselves sharing with another two, and then another two people found their way to us later. Amusingly, at dinner there had been talk of which topics would be preferable to turn up. They turned up.

@knittedace and @laalratty got us most of our points, the everyone contributed and in a tough race every single point is essential. At one point @laalratty thought the giant spider in Harry Potter was called Aragorn and that was amusing but I’m not kidding. Those two were fantastic. And when we won? We won in large part thanks to them.

...me with my price of Mighty Morphin Power Rangers coaster. TRICERATOPS! I’m also slightly worried about the Riddler, looks like something may be afoot.

We got to go up and pick out our prizes, a few bits of ‘stuff’ per person. I saw Power Rangers and went ‘MINE!’ and so now I have MMPR coasters. It was all kindly donated by a con goer and quiz partaker who was apparently trying to clear out a lot of nerdy goods they have. Which seemed to have not been touched, packets not opened and the like. 

IT’S THE FINAL CON NIGHT.... *CRIES*

And that was it. The last official event of Nine Worlds. Our team drifted towards the bar, claimed a table for victory celebrations. Which mean @knittedace wearing an inflatable crown she’d chosen as a prize, and playing Slash.

A good portion hadn’t heard of slash before so we had to teach them. Some just wanted to watch rather than play - though some of them joined in. I think everyone was enjoying themselves in their own way and I was glad to have a big long hard game of Slash. I felt like I hadn’t been playing it nearly enough, as Nine Worlds is the only place I can.

I did manage to convert several people to it though. It should be noted, that it’s a home made deck and we don’t really play with any rules. It’s mostly card assisted crack fic creation. As the night went on some drifted away to bed, some others drifted towards us and joined in. It was fun.

Whilst this was going on, and as the bar slowly emptied, there was another group of people in the bar doing tarot reading. Me, @laalratty and @knittedace stopped there on the way to our room. Got our readings. Mine was done on this really awesome deck that was queer friendly and fat friendly and stuff. I loved the artwork. I don’t believe there’s any actual magic or power in it other that what we choose to place on it ourselves. But it was fun. And the person doing it was pretty awesome themselves, asks you questions and makes you think. Which is tarot at its best I think. Not the claiming to know what will come next.

As all this was going on, a group of nerds had gathered around a grand piano near the main lobby entrance. The lift that brought in people from the outside world, and a few people did arrive to find themselves being serenade with nerdy songs they didn’t understand. But it was great. They sang well, the piano player played well. The woman who did the BSL sessions was there and I think was signing at one point. 

We neared them to get to the lifts to our room, and as they did so I heard them sing this song. Which will always and forever make me think of Due South. Of new beginnings in endings. I think I said something long the lines of ‘OMG!’ when I realised what they were singing and surprised them. Oooops. But that song gives me many feels. I don’t know if anybody there knew of the Due South connection, but I hope so.

And with that, me, @knittedace and @laalratty went to the room. Went to bed. And Nine Worlds was over. Which makes that song being the last thing I heard at the convention fit pretty well, to be honest.

MISC STUFF

So, our room? Our room had the best number ever.

Yup, three asexuals got to the room, saw the 69 and giggled a lot. And found it amusing all through the convention. Didn’t tell anybody at the time as giving your room number to strangers is a bad idea. But we aren’t there now, so I can share.

They put three asexuals in a 69 room. Brilliant.

On a not so fun side, every night there was a disco I could hear it as I tried to get to sleep. On the fourth floor. I am not best pleased by that and really wish they’d turn the volume down. It’s annoying enough for me, but at least I know what is going on and understand it. Not everyone at the hotel is a convention goer. People have been telling Nine Worlds for years to please turn it down but it’d seem not.

BUT WHAT ABOUT THAT POLICE THING? THE FUTURE OF NINE WORLDS?

I’m going to do a separate post for that. I will link to that both HERE and on Thursday’s post once posted.