#shielded aether thief

[kestrelmando]

I'm back with more LADs lore predictions 🤔

1. Miss Hunter's origins as a celestial being made into a humanoid form --

By the game's definition, protocores are; dropped by Wanderers once they are killed and carry celestial energy that can be harnessed for many applications.

We've seen several specific protocores:

A. The Creatio protocore, during Zayne's Foreseer myth. This protocore is said to contain Astra's power and Zayne says "Astra's power is yours to wield" after Miss Hunter absorbs it. Interestingly, he also mentions prior in the myth that her heart condition stems from "resonance with it" and that the Creatio protocore was growing stronger by "draining away" Miss Hunter's life.

B. The specific protocore Xavier searched for and found during his time on Philos. I don't believe it's ever named. I'm not convinced this wasn't Miss Hunter being vague and telling Xavier a cure existed to give him hope so I don't really include this one.

C. Destructio, I'm not sure this was ever confirmed as a protocore but I'm making an assumption here. The "energy" of Miss Hunter from Caleb's myth as A-01.

D. Construo, same as above I am assuming this is a protocore. The "energy" of Caleb as X-02 in his myth. Interestingly, A-01 and X-02 appear to be able to switch these energies -- creation and destruction are two sides of the same coin. I think there are meant to be one protocore. Perhaps this a situation where Miss Hunter has one half of it and Caleb the other.

E. The Spatium core, spatium literally meaning space or displacement or even the distance between two points. In the story, it's been used to influence spaces and create new ones.

F. Special shoutout to the Aether core class, a rare fragment or complete crystal filled with celestial energy. Aether meaning the sky, the dominion of the gods (assuming they are using the mythical definition) and the god of light. A complete Aether core has its own energy shield to protect it. Aether cores come from "the very core of the cosmos". For a long time, I assumed Sylus's eye contained half of Miss Hunter's Aether core and that was why it's unstable. But Zayne says "the energy in your heart has always been stable" and that it "forms a shield when attacked". Miss Hunter's Aether core is in one, complete piece.

G. The Origo core, recently introduced in Death and Rebirth. It descends from the cosmos and finds (seeks out?) dying planets. Then a "tiny protocore" is born from destruction after a planet "collapses inward". and dies. This introduces a chicken and egg problem for me: was there an origin Origo core? Or a planet must die for one to be produced? Was the cosmos made from THE Origo core? If so, how was the very first one produced? By who/what?

SO - Miss Hunter? The game keeps making a point to inform us that it is time AND space that is being altered/bent.

She appears to be based on the Greek Gaia or the Egyptian Nut.

Nut is summarized as the goddess of the sky, stars, the cosmos, mothers, astronomy, and the universe.

Gaia is summarized as the Earth personified, the mother of all life.

She will likely be a combo of the two inspiration wise, given that there supposedly more planets in Deepspace besides Earth.

She travels the universe, comes upon/looks for dying planets and plants a seed of herself in the planet's core. This seed is an Origo core and is powered by her essence. The Origo core builds a new planet and eventually the Origo core houses itself in a human/humanoid personification of her.

These human seeds become our Beloved Bride, Sea Witch, A-01, Thief, the Master of Fate's companion, Knight, Queen, Dragon, and Gladiator. I still maintain my earlier stance that these lives do not intersect nor happen on the same planet or timelime since Miss Hunter's Origo powers allow her to part time and space.

Overall, I think she will be a mix of various mythologies.

Astra seems to have a particular grudge against Miss Hunter, her being part of a pantheon would make sense. Something clearly happened between her and Astra. He seems to be following her across time and space, even if he isn't named explicitly.

In the end? My money is that she is the goddess of life and free will while Astra is the god of death and fate -- two sides of the same coin, locked in an unending battle. I still maintain Astra is the big bad. And what makes her immortal is the Origo protocore.

2. Miss Hunter's latest iteration --

If indeed Miss Hunter seeded all the planets that would presumably include Earth. So is our Miss Hunter a seed that has been on Earth for millenia and recently awakened? I'm not so sure.

I realize this is Zayne and his mystery mission to the Arctic, but the imagery makes me wonder if there IS a Miss Hunter for Dawnbreaker, the OG Earth seed, but she is trapped somewhere by Astra or somehow dormant....perhaps stuck in the Arctic in a different time/space pocket?

In short, I think our latest iteration of Miss Hunter is the gladiator version of her with Sylus. They agree to run away together and something happens to split them up. I believe this is where Sylus ends up in the time space prison and Miss Hunter?

The Deepspace Tunnel being described as "vast" is interesting. It feels like the Temporal Loom from Loki. There is one Deepspace Tunnel, and everything branches from it. Deepspace Tunnel = an Olympus of sorts in the middle/a pocket removed from time and space?

She falls through the Deepspace Tunnel to Earth. If she can manipulate time and space, as it appears she can, she could be falling through multiple times/spaces of the Deepspace Tunnel and "jumping" in her distress.

But our Miss Hunter has protocore syndrome and lacks the power she's supposed to have? The Deepspace Tunnel tore them from her during her fall and they fell from her as protocores. She doesn't have a weak heart -- she's incomplete. The specific, named protocores are easily and "accidentally" absorbed by her because they belong to her, they are pieces of her.

She's going to be weak and unstable until she is complete. She's gotta pull a Thanos and collect them things!

And when she does? Along with sorting thru her memories? She's gonna be scary.

3. But wait -- what about her weak heart in the myths with boys?

This circles back to she can manipulate time and space -- perhaps the Deepspace Tunnel was originally her means of travel and something went wrong? Altered by Astra? Either way, she appears to be incomplete in some (all?) of the myths as well. Her heart with Xavier and Foreseer Zayne, something is "wrong" with her power with Master of Fate Zayne, etc.

If the Goddess version of her is where all the seed versions of her draw their power from, is something wrong with the Goddess and that's why her seeds are weak?

It also occurs to me the boys could have pieces of her as well from their origins and that explains the inexorable draw to each other. Their choice to fall in love but the type of locked eyes with a stranger in a crowded room and can't look away draw.

Or perhaps the boys are celestial bodies as well, I did see a theory to support this (would love to credit the original person who thought that one up, please let me know) on various platforms -- Miss Hunter seeds the planet and becomes intertwined with it.

I think that's all for now 😅😆🤣🤣🤣

[card-queen]

hello! I only followed you recently so I don’t know much about your stories, but if you’d like could you answer dagger and dirk for Memories of Aether? 😊🙏

Hello right back at ya! I'm so happy you wanted to ask me questions! Thank you so much!!

dagger: does the story have any motifs?

Thinking on it, I think so! I made these headers for Cas chapters, Conoric chapters, and Cas & Conoric chapters. Cas is very much tied to his spear and shield. When they start to break, it mirrors his own physical or mental state. When they get reforged, they mirror his own transformation into a new life. Conoric is more clearly associated with birds, especially ravens. He works in the aviary, finds himself in at scenes of death and his dark hair clashes with the blonde hair of the rest of his family and much of the town. Their joint chapters are where they are most refined. Cas, the soldier, fearless and capable but taught to think and analyse by the studious Conoric. Conoric, the scholar, thoughtful and quick to pick up on patterns but now unafraid and supportive in battle, thanks to Cas' direct & sharpened instructions.

dirk: are there any famous stories in the story?

If we're talking 'do you have a stand-in for sleeping beauty in your story that is essentially the same but given a fresh coat of paint so that none would be the wiser'... then no. I tend to want to create everything myself. If we're talking 'do you have folk tales, fairy tales and legends' then the answer is YES. So many.

It's hard to answer, because I have a small handful of countries with very different cultures, folk heroes, legends, tales and customs. There's the ancient kingdom of Vardagresh, a former seat of power on the world stage that has a legend about the strange mountains that seem to change colours and move if you stare at them. A witch is believed to have been sealed within those mountains which causes the mountains to move. The patterns the mountains make are said to be the witch changing the configuration of the patterns and colours on the mountain itself and one day she will finally find the pattern that will set her free. The country my first book is set it, Ethelia, is a rich land full of romance and folk tales. They were founded by a united force of heroes, each with their own adventures and tales. The land of Ethelia was once known as the land where 'a thief could become King and a King could become a thief'. Throughout the early stages of Ethelia's founding, a brotherhood known as the Fangs of Alcerion, who were granted the powers of the extinct beast known as Alcerion, which had three forms: the spider, to trap; the wolf, to attack; and the dragon, to know. So, there's two but there are certainly more! I end up inventing and elaborating on ideas as I write more in any one particular area. Knowing the culture and customs of the country my characters are currently in makes it easy to get in the mindset, to understand what they would revere, avoid, gather or curse. I'll probably come up with more the more I write!

[rakdos-dogdyke]

Dandân Variant U — Feed Me Batteries

Starring:

Thriving Turtle! (5 of them.) You can all but guarantee nothing's ever gonna trade with this beast, but it's very hungry, so feed it lots of batteries! Here's some sources:

There's no creature Volatile Stormdrake can't take control of, and usually you'll even end up energy positive! A 3/2 flyer is, however, an admittedly hefty cost to pay. Throw in Electrozoa, too, and you're risking an unstoppable beat down if you're not careful. (2 each)

The energy is useful for stopping just as well as feeding, too, with the power of Aether Spike. This is the only counterspell, so you'll never expect it. When can you risk it, though?

Anyway, what other sources of yummy batteries can we find?

That sure is a lot of cards you could draw, using Era of Innovation, Shielded Aether Thief and Tempest Harvester. At the cost of buffing your turtle, though. But what if your opponent draws just what you needed because you were busy with a buff turtle? Tough calls all around. (2 each)

Hey wait what about our lands?

... more card draw I see. Rush of Inspiration and Hidden Cataract as draw and Suppression Ray as a finisher are all well and good, but in every case they cost you a land. Worth it? To be seen. (2 each)

You take 2 of everything above, except for the turtle with 5, throw in 3 Thriving Isle and 7 Island, and we've got 33 cards! That makes up all of Feed Me Batteries :3

[magic-the-beefening]

Just siphon the energy off your opponent’s creatures.

[berrydoodleoo]

FFXIVWrite 2021: foster

“Well, my dear.” Master Matoya stepped past Y’shtola to look at the new crater in her underground lab. She’d stopped it from filling with water via a handy spell, but repairing the ruined brick and pipes was going to be a more physical sort of challenge. “Regardless of what stories Mr. Kribbet has been telling about my memory, I certainly won’t be forgetting about you anytime soon.” Matoya paused thoughtfully. “I don’t think I’ve ever had any student who was such an unmitigated disaster.”

Green eyes hidden by her sodden white bangs, Y’shtola growled under her breath and stomped a foot indignantly. Her wet shoe made a little squish.

Matoya rounded on her, quick as a snake. “And what was that, Y’shtola?”

Her last student, some twenty-odd years past, would have been scrambling at her tone. Y’shtola simply glared out from under her bangs. “Nothing, Master Matoya.”

“What was that? Hm? Can’t hear you when you mumble.” Matoya poked her with her walking stick.

Y’shtola batted it away indignantly. “I didn’t say anything!”

Technically true. Well, her lab might be ruined, but the girl’s spirit was certainly intact. And she had other labs.

“I think I will put you to studying white magic, for a time,” Matoya finally concluded. “At least you’re less likely to blow the roof off the place that way. When you’re grown and safe in your own lab, you can practice more destructive magics at your leisure.”

She turned, and found the girl gaping at her, eyes gone shiny. “What’s this, then?” Matoya demanded, startled.

“Then…” Y’shtola took a deep breath. “Then I can stay? I can -- I can still be your student?”

Matoya regarded her silently. The girl was barely an adolescent, still young and insecure, lost in her herd (or should that be pack?) of older, talented sisters. Perhaps her insecurity, hidden though it was, wasn’t such a surprise. A bit of careful tutelage might help with that, Matoya mused -- tutelage, yes, nothing else, certainly not parenting. Even if her young, overlooked student could benefit from it.

“Provided you do one thing for me.” Matoya stepped forward smoothly. “You almost drowned here, you know. That whirlpool would have sucked you under and held you till you’d stopped kicking if not for my timely arrival.”

Y’shtola withdrew into herself, but only momentarily: “Just tell me what I need to do! I’ll do it!” She stood tall, only her lashing tail betraying her uncertainty. “Is it the spell? Do I need to master the spell? I almost had it--”

“Quiet,” Matoya interrupted. Y’shtola fell silent. “No, it’s not the spell. It’s not my job to teach you forbidden spells, girl, just to fish you out when you go falling in. And if you’re going to keep learning forbidden spells -- and I can see by the light in your eyes that you are -- you need to learn something much, much more valuable than magic.”

Matoya held out her hand. With the other, held behind her back, she summoned the Crystal Eye and drew upon its bottomless strength. Her extended hand shone briefly with silver light, a small shield spell that was powerful enough to make Y’shtola recoil. When the light faded, the girl looked at her questioningly, and then took her aged hand in her small brown one.

“You are going to learn to hold on,” Matoya informed her grimly. “Not just with your hands, but your whole self. All your magic, and all your soul. Beyond all good sense and reason. If you can hold tightly enough to break my shield, I’ll keep you as my student.”

Of course, it was a trick. No amount of effort a child could bring to bear would shatter a shield from the Crystal Eye. But as the girl gripped Matoya’s hand with both of hers, ears flattening and tail puffing as she summoned all of her physical strength and the impressive might of her magic, Matoya figured the trying would teach her a valuable lesson nonetheless.

(When the shield shattered, it left small scratches on the aether in Matoya’s hand, like little bolts of lightning carved into her bones. A careful spell or two, a little mental effort, and they would probably buff right out.

But she kept them anyway. As a reminder.)

~

Thancred had grown accustomed to rough-and-tumble on the streets of Limsa Lominsa. He’d fought his way to the top of his gang and led an attack on the meanest group of slavers the pirate city had even seen before his sixteenth birthday. He was used to tough going.

This … this was something else.

Louisoix snapped his fingers, and with a musical chime, the winds buffeting Thancred fell away. Thancred himself narrowly avoided landing fast-first in the mud, ending up on one knee instead. Panting, he sank back on his haunches.

“Not bad,” his … friend? Mentor? Teacher? Foster father? said. “You got much closer that time. However, I,” he jingled the bells in his left hand, “appear to be the victor once more.”

Thancred couldn’t help but grin ruefully, staring up at the string of golden bells. “Yes, Master Leveilleur,” he agreed. With a grunt, he pushed himself laboriously to his feet, until he could offer a proper bow to his sparring partner. “Maybe next time.”

The old man’s mouth quirked in a crooked smile. “Hope springeth eternal,” he agreed, sounding rather like Urianger. Both Louisoix and Thancred looked to the edge of the field, where Louisoix’s other student awaited his own duel; even from this distance, Thancred could see him fidgeting nervously.

“Hm, well, what lesson shall I impart today?” Louisoix wondered. Thancred stood at attention, waiting patiently. “I believe you’ve heard them all this point. You certainly don’t need the one about persistence in the face of failure.”

Thancred winced. Louisoix didn’t mean it as a barb, he was certain, but it landed like one nonetheless.

“No, not that one. Nor the one about the tree that bends, or the thrush that survives, or honor like an oasis in the desert.”

Louisoix dipped his chin in a nod. Thancred’s face heated, embarrassed and pleased, and he looked away. Everyone else in Sharlayan might see him a shiftless thief, and those who knew his story saw only an arrogant rogue who’d gotten his gang killed, but Louisoix knew what it had all been for. One day the Upright Thieves would stand tall again.

“No, none of that.” Louisoix pocketed his bells, and came forward to rest his hand on Thancred’s bowed head. “Perhaps I will simply say … never stop. Never hesitate. Never look back.” He thought back to the end of their duel, and imparted a bit of strategic advice: “And always be a moving target.”

~

E-Sumi-Yan lowered the old book as he reached the end of the passage. His students -- orphans and foundlings whom he’d helped raise since they were smaller than him, all of whom (even Nanayepi!) would now stand taller than if they weren’t kneeling respectfully -- waited in silence.

“For a time,” the head of the Conjurer Guild said, “this chapter of I-Ohok-Pota’s tale was censored from common texts, as it was believed to cast the Padjal in a dishonorable light. With it’s unearthing came much questioning of Stillglade Fane and the nature of the Light that powers our White Magic. Quite recently, there were even fears that the white mages could be corrupted and turned to monsters. It was within my lifetime, certainly.” He paused. “Perhaps not so recently, then.”

A gentle murmur of laughter trickled through the crowd. E-Sumi-Yan turned suddenly, picking someone from the crowd. “K'selh? Your thoughts?”

K'selh jumped at being so suddenly addressed. “I-- I--”

E-Sumi-Yan beckoned encouragingly. “Please be honest, K'selh. This is a safe space.”

“I … it’s only, stories like that.” K'selh paused. “They really make me question if I’m cut out to be a conjurer! I could never make a choice like that! I … I don’t mean to seem ungrateful to the Guild or the Elementals….”

E-Sumi-Yan nodded. “I understand. Of course, none of you are beholden to the Guild. We offer you this training to help you find your place in the world, not to trap you within the walls of the Fane, or the Shroud. If the conjurer’s path does not speak to you, it would be unwise to embark upon it.” He paused.

“I cannot lie,” he said, haltingly, his seemingly-boyish voice slower and darker than usual. “Such choices come often to our ilk. But we must remember that our lives are given in service to the Light and the common good. Sometimes we must let one perish in order to save the rest.” His eyes closed, and he looked very much like a child. “We do what we must, because there is no one else to do it for us.”

The pause stretched. Attempting to shake the darkness away, E-Sumi-Yan looked up, and it was by sheer coincidence that his and Talia’s gazes locked.

Talia blinked, startled, but didn’t flinch away. Unlike some of her other instructors, E-Sumi-Yan didn’t try to force her to speak in class -- he had an uncanny knack for only calling upon those who felt a need to speak and simply needed encouragement. He seemed almost as startled as she, his silvery eyes briefly unfocused, lips parting on some unheard word.

And then he blinked and looked away. The moment, like so many others before it, passed without a word.

“The next passage begins when the last left off,” E-Sumi-Yan said. He lifted the book, and continued reading.

~

Minfilia says goodbye to the twins and Y’shtola at Mord Souq, before she, Urianger, Thancred, and the Warriors of Darkness go their own way. Alisaie gives her a would-be casual hug, trying to hide her worry; Alphinaud stops frowning thoughtfully at her long enough to force a timid smile and wish her luck.

Y’shtola stands a bit aside, in a little pocket of shadow, blind eyes peering thoughtfully into the endless light. She beckons Minfilia closer, apart from the others.

“And have you made your choice?” Y’shtola asks, without preamble.

Minfilia glances aside, picking at a seam of her gloves. “I -- I … almost.”

Y’shtola’s eyes narrow, her expression fierce as the wind whips her hair too and fro. Minfilia says nothing more. On one hand, the urge to babble is strong --  to let all the uncertainty and agony come pouring out, to desperately hope that someone, anyone, will talk her out of her fate. On the other hand, she can already feel her chin wobbling, and knows if she says anything more she’ll start to cry.

“I see.” Y’shtola straightens. “Minfilia,” she starts, and then hesitates, brow furrowing. “No, that’s not ... I wish we knew your birth name, but I suppose it’s too late for that. And Minfilia is a good name. One you have certainly been worthy of.” She nods, decisive. “Minfilia.”

Minfilia takes a careful breath, only a little sniffle-y, and comes to attention.

“Whatever choice you make, make it with all your heart. Whatever doubts assail you, hold onto your decision with all your strength. I believe there is no end to the things you can do, if only you persist in the doing them.” Blind eyes bore into hers, seeming to peer into her small, unworthy soul. “Do you understand?”

Minfilia blinks back her tears, and tries for a smile. “Yes, Master Matoya.”

Y’shtola flinches and averts her face, suddenly sorrowful. But there’s no time to apologize; Minfilia’s destiny awaits.

~

“But what about you?” Minfilia cries.

Thancred unhooks his gunblade. “Keep moving,” he orders her. “Keep your eyes on your target, and let nothing stop you. No matter what you hear behind you.” He hesitates, head bowing, and for a moment Minfilia thinks she might see her noble knight weep.

He turns away, voice gone choked. “And don’t look back.”

~

The air is quiet and hushed, where Minfilia -- the real Minfilia, not a pretender like her -- stopped the Flood and saved them all. “Whatever happens,” Minfilia whispers to Tally and Vahn, “you mustn't interfere.”

Vahn is plainly heartbroken, expression ravaged, but he nods. It’s Tally whose brow crumples in fierce anger, who kneels and pulls her into a hug. Hard enough to hurt. Minfilia’s composure, which has carried her through so much, falters and breaks at last. For just a moment, Minfilia hides her face in Tally’s white robes -- soft white, not cold and bright like the Light that surrounds them, comfortable and worn -- and searches for the determination and cunning Y’shtola and Thancred told her she had.

My friends, comes the Oracle’s voice, the Word of the Mother, like music. Minfilia gasps, struck by the familiar melody, and turns to find Minfilia -- the real Minfilia -- descending from the air to alight on the ground. She is barefoot and smiling, and it hurts to look at her, for all that she is less bright than everything else around her. Her terrible, shining eyes linger on Tally and Vahn for a long, long moment, her lips curving in a sad smile.

“I knew I could count on you,” the Oracle says to them. And then, at last, she directs her attention to her heir. She holds out her hands.

And Minfilia -- Minfilia steps forward, timid at first, and then with greater assurance -- she rushes forward to meet her, laughing in her amazement -- they are so similar! as if Minfilia was her mother in truth, and not just in her imaginings -- and for the first time Minfilia thinks she might be able to be brave, to go out into the world and be unafraid. And she knows she has made her choice at last.

[charliedawn]

The other side part 3

" So..It seems we have a problem.."

Tony says while looking at the team.

" Thanos ?"

Captain asks, but Tony shakes his head.

" No. A little anomaly that decided to land in our world. The SHIELD has them now..Or the Avengers, as they call themselves those days..It seems that they are becoming more organized. We need to speed things up. Everyone got what they were assigned to retrieve ?"

He looks at Bucky that doesn't look at him in the eyes before answering.

" The trickster fooled me and I lost the tesseract. He has grown more powerful and.."

He is about to add something when Sam harshly cuts him off.

" I got it..But can I just insist that little Bucky here has failed. Again. Maybe, the Winter Soldier needs a reminder of what is at stake here.."

Both men stare at each other with hostility and a certain defiance. Bucky grits his teeths and, while still glaring at Sam, puts his hand on his gun warningly.

" Try me, birdbeak."

Sam is about to get up and punch the Winter Soldier in the face when Tony decides to break the fight.

" Girls. Girls. You're both beautiful. But, may we come back to the situation at hand ?"

He then glances at Dr Strange that only rolls his eyes in annoyance.

"I'm surrounded by idiots..For my part, the time stone is still in my possession and I succeeded in getting the mind stone from the Scarlet Witch. Please Thor, tell me you got what we asked for ?"

He turns towards the God that gets out a small golden box with a small provocative smirk.

" Yes, magic man. The stone of power is there. This little thing contains the essence of Asgard, the Aether. And I made sure that my brother and sister will not be able to call for help. The bridge is closed. For now and forever."

Dr Strange nods in satisfaction before looking at Natasha with a little frown.

" And you ? Where is the Reality stone ?"

Natasha gets out a small box, similar to the Thor's and opens it for everyone to see the stone inside.

" I got it. But, I almost got caught by an old friend of Steve's. Red Skull."

At the name, Steve takes her by the collar and pins her against a wall with force. His face twisted in hatred and anger.

" Stop lying."

He whispers dangerously close to her face, but a bright red dot appears near his head and someone threatens him from behind.

" Hands off, Captain..Or you may lose them."

They both look up at Clint that had been observing everything with attention from up there. He glares at Steve before adding.

" She got it. It's all that matters. I also did what you asked, I've put cameras everywhere in their headquarters. Not one piece of information that they will get won't get to us as well."

Rogers gets his hands off Natasha that glares at him before straightening her collar and repeating with determination.

" It was Red Skull. He's still alive. And I could have even gotten killed retrieving the object if it wasn't for the little bombs. Really handy by the way, Dr Banner and Tony."

She adds while glancing at the two geniuses with a small appreciative smile.

Both men seem surprised as they look at Natasha and Bruce whispers to Tony.

" Did she just pay us a compliment ? I'm shocked."

Tony only laughs before nodding his head and turning back to his high-tech computer.

" Yeah, I already have the approval of millions of fans all over the world: including weapon smugglers, dictators and even presidents..But, I must admit that having Natasha acknowledging my genius inflates my ego immensely."

Natasha rolls her eyes before quickly adding.

" Calm down, Stark. You're just lucky because you're rich."

But Tony only winks playfully at her before taking out his communication transmitter.

" Sorry. No take backs, Black Widow. Now, we just miss one more and we'll be ready. Let's hope Scott is as good as a thief as he is at being an idiot."

A voice gets out of the transmitter and screams in indignation.

" I heard that !"

Tony freezes for a second before shrugging nonchalantly.

"I'm not apologizing."

A loud sigh comes out of the transmitter while the door to the Downfallers' base opens to let in a tiny Scott that grows up once inside.

" I'm here. So, what did I miss ?! Please, tell me Falcon and Winter Soldier finally killed each other !"

Scott wishes while searching the two men with his eyes, almost comically. But his bright mood darkens when he sees both men still standing: Sam with an eyebrow raised and Bucky with his arms crossed. Bucky then replies, unamused.

" Still alive. And so is birdbeak. But, it may not be your case if you don't have what we want..And why are you so late anyway ?"

He adds suspiciously at the end while eyeing his bag that seems full to the brim. Scott sighs before opening his bag, showing its content : jewelry, money, precious objects of all kinds..

" We told you to steal the stone, not the queen of England.."

Bucky lectures Scott that only rolls his eyes excessively at his comment.

" Oh come on ! Give me a break ! I'm still a thief that needs to feed his kid ! Who would I be if I didn't try to rob super rich dudes of their money ?! Here is your damned Soul stone."

He says while taking out another small box that he throws to Bruce carelessly. Bruce barely succeeds in catching it and glares at Scott.

" Damn it, Scott ! Be careful. This stone has more worth than your life !"

Scott ignores the scientist before sitting down on the couch with a bright smile.

" Not paying me to be careful, doc. I stole the thing. I did my job. So, what is supposed to happen now ?"

They all look towards Tony and Dr Strange that start putting all of the little boxes containing the stones in the computer. Tony finally turns towards them with a wide grin.

"These stones, it seems, can only be brandished by beings of extraordinary strength. These carriers can use the stone to mow down entire civilizations like wheat in a field. It will make us Gods and we will be able to reshape the world as we want it."

Natasha arks an eyebrow before asking, confused.

" Hum, sorry to disappoint you, but most of us are only humans, including you Tony."

Tony, as if waiting for someone to ask the question, smiles even wider before turning towards his computer and typing things on it. A few minutes later, the computer starts shifting and shows 6 objects with each one a stone inside.

" This is why me and Dr Banner created these objects to contain the stones. We will all have one stone, and we will be separated in couple of individuals, as to make sure we don't let the stone get into our heads..As I explained, they are extremely powerful and we will need someone to keep us..grounded."

He emphasizes on the last word, making the team understand that it will not be easy to control alone.

" So, Nat and Clint, you'll both be in charge of the mind stone."

He gives them a necklace and Clint takes it to put it around Natasha's neck. He then whispers next to her ear.

" You look beautiful.."

She smiles before taking his hand and squeezing it lightly on acknowledgement.

" Okay. Next, Bucky and Steve. The Power stone. Since you are both pretty powerful already, I suggest you don't use it often.."

Bucky nods and is about to take the belt when Steve grabs it before he can touch it.

" Don't worry, Stark. I'll put it to good use."

The way he says it makes Bucky frown..What did he mean by that ? But he doesn't have the time to ponder more on the true meaning of his friend's words as Tony calls the third couple.

" Team birdbeak and ant guy. The Space stone, it will help you out of tricky situations."

Sam groans at the nickname before taking the watch from Tony. However, Scott snatches it from him to examine and puts it on.

" Wow ! I feel powerful already !"

Sam only sighs loudly, clearly upset that they teamed him up with Scott, but still grateful not to have been paired with metal arm or one of the super people. At least, Scott is human.

" Thor and Strange, you're each gonna be given one stone. Since one is a God and the other is already acquainted with the Time stone."

He gives Strange his talisman back and Thor, the soul stone. Thor smirks as he receives the stone and crushes it against his helmet. It fits perfectly. As for the last infinity stone, it is for Tony and Bruce. Tony gets the glove on and finally looks at all of the members one by one before asking in all seriousness.

" We all agree on what to do next ?"

They all nod before answering at the same time.

" Destroy the Avengers.."

[buckysmischief]

what’s up danger? - 1

sunflower, part 1

Peter Parker x reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: language, sexual innuendos

AN: @perpetually-tuned-out helped me write a piece of this & it’s bolded, Amanda you’re amazing & I cannot thank you enough!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

🕷🕸

Peter’s POV

Peter was watching TV alone in his apartment one day and got back-to-back phone calls from Fury and Tony about a new villain they wanted to recruit. The problem was that no one knew where she was currently due to her ability to change reality, which is why they needed Peter. After the whole ordeal with Mysterio, Peter and Tony began working on a piece of tech that would detect any false realities.

Once arriving at the SHIELD NY office, Peter was welcomed by Maria and escorted to the debriefing room where Fury and Tony were waiting. On the table was a new Spider-Man suit, which meant Tony had added new tech that he would be needing for his mission.

“So, kid, do you remember a thing called the reality stone?” Peter was well into his 20s but Tony has never stopped calling him ‘kid’, which he was fine with. As long as it came from Tony, from anyone else felt like an insult.

“Um yeah, sort of. The stones were destroyed by Thanos after the snap though, weren’t they?” puzzled Peter, “Is something happening? Is he back? Do we-”

“Woah there, slow down.” Tony interrupted, “Back in 2013 the stone, or Aether, was in London. There was this thing called the Convergence happening, I’m not getting into it right now so ask Thor if you’re curious. Basically, as a young girl YN YLN, was in London in 2013 on a class trip, got caught up in an anomaly, and she absorbed the powers of the aether.”

“Like Jane?”

“No. We’re not sure why, all we know is that she uses it how Thanos did.”

“Back to the point,” Fury interjects, “It’s damn near impossible to catch a person who can alter reality, so Tony updated the tracking abilities in your suit.”

“I ran tests on all the stones when we had them, good thing too or we never would have had the technology to find her.” Tony boasts. “Took some time to figure out, though. We need you to test it out, see if you can find her when the radar detects a location.”

Peter nods, taking in all the new information presented to him. “Okay, but why me? Not that I’m complaining, I just don’t understand why I’m her assigned Avenger.”

“It’s simple,” Maria starts, “Beck did something similar and, once you finally figured it out, you handled the situation extremely well.”

“She’s also your neighbor,” Fury laughs, “we call her Rem.”

Peter was shocked. His quiet, shy, and probably overly nervous neighbor was a villain? They had been neighbors for two years, how did he not notice? Did she know that he’s Spider-Man? Well, at least he knew her name now.

“Okay, what do you want me to do?”

“Try and recruit her.”

Your POV

For the past year Spider-Man has been on your ass every move you made, and not because you lived right beside him. After the first two times he found you attempting to rob a bank, you figured he must have found a way to track your powers. You had to stop using your powers at home, which wasn’t a huge deal. The last thing you needed was Peter Parker invading your personal life.

It wasn’t hard to find out who he was, the fact that his girlfriend was always yelling “Why can’t you just stop being Spider-Man?” helped a lot. They fought a lot, actually. It was none of your business, so you weren’t worried about why, but you did know she wanted him to retire the suit.

“Oh Spidey, still comin’ back I see. You don’t have a girlfriend to keep you busy?” he hadn’t even made himself known yet, but you knew he was there.

“Not really, we broke up. Again. We’ve kinda been in the cycle of.. Wait, stop distracting me!” webs flew from his suit and entangled your hands.

“C’mon Spidey, you know how I feel about being tied up.” you say with a smirk.

“Yeah, but something tells me you like it.” Peter smirked under his mask, “Otherwise you wouldn’t have made it so easy.”

Peter had slowly been getting closer, and you were suddenly pressed against the wall. And if the eyes on his mask were anything to go by, he was squinting. It’s like this is a different Spider-Man. Usually if you get a little flirty, he would get flustered, flirt back a little, but you always got away before he got to your hands. However, this time, the lack of witty banter had thrown you off, this time he was really flirting. Peter had noticed the slight twitch of your eyes as he considered his next few words.

“I could just make this the easiest job and have you suspended from the air, but something tells me you’ll beg me to tighten the restraints.” Your pupils dilate at his crude comment and your natural instinct was to lash out with your hands.

As your arms buckled and fists clenched in the webbing Peter realized that he’d mobilized your strongest asset. Until you could free yourself, you were trapped under Spider-Man’s gaze.

“So Remmy,” how you loathed that nickname, “why are you in the weapons vault, at SHIELD of all places?”

“Heard some rumors Cap had extra shields, got bored and thought I’d have a look.” While that was true, you failed to mention what one would go for if any existed.

Peter scoffed, “Come on Rem, just meet with him once. You don’t have to be a thief forev-”

“I am not meeting Nick Fury or Tony Stark.”

Peter closed the remaining distance between you and removed the webbing from your hands, holding them in his. He bent down and whispered in your ear, “Then stay for me.”

You don’t know when your feelings for Peter, and Spider-Man, changed. It started out as a typical hero-villian dynamic, but slowly you developed something for the masked hero.

“I’ll think about it.” one moment you are kissing his cheek, and the next he is watching you disappear behind a door that never existed before.

What the hell was that? So what Peter and his girlfriend broke up, that’s not anything new. You could count on one hand the amount of time she’s slammed the door at 2 in the morning after Peter had come back from patrolling the city just this month. Flirting wasn’t anything new, just a way to try and distract the other. No, you had just never had Peter, Spider-Man, act on his flirtations.

-

You walked out of the door you created and immediately blended in with foot traffic, deciding that you were going to pick up Chinese food and head home for the night.

You should have went with Italian. Of course Peter would be there. He was putting his card back in his wallet when he spotted you. “Yn? Hey, Peter. I mean I’m Peter, we’re neighbors.”

Never in the three years of living next to this man have you two ever said more than a, “Hey, they put your mail in my box again by mistake” to each other. What the hell had possessed both of his identities to change things? “Yeah. I mean, I know who you are.”

“You going home after this? We could walk together, if that’s fine with you I mean.” he was nervous. Not even an hour ago he had you pinned against a wall and now he’s suddenly shy?

You thought about your next words, and the fact that you weren’t supposed to know he was single. “And how would your girlfriend feel about that?”

“MJ? She left, again. I told her to not come back anymore, it’s a long story. Not important anymore. But it’s fine if you don’t want to!”

You really should say no, “No, I want to! I mean, why not, ya know?”

After paying for your food the two of you walk back to Peter’s apartment, he had just bought a new TV and suggested movie with dinner. As the night went on you both gravitated toward each other, your legs had ended up stretched out across his lap while his hand was gripping your thigh.

It was odd, knowing how he spends half of his life and then learning how he spends his other. Your favorite was finding the fiction in the story of his real life. He didn’t develop tech for Tony Stark, he developed teach with Tony Stark. He tested it. You also found out that he was a giant nerd and a total sweetheart.

But after all you learned about Peter that night, he didn’t tell you that you were apart of the reason MJ left.

It started out with him coming home hurt after fighting a random bank robber, a bullet grazed his shoulder and he acted like it was nothing. That’s when MJ started asking Peter to stay in the lab more and out of the field, but Peter couldn’t do that.

Then you became his mission. MJ noticed how obsessed he was with catching you and showing you the perks of being a hero. Every night he found you he came home and it was all he could talk about. “MJ I know she’s technically a villain-”

“-she is literally a villain-”

“-but you should have seen the way she changed everything. We were in Central Park and suddenly we were inside an abandoned building, it was amazing!”

No, Peter wasn’t going to mention that. He just wanted to do this. They could figure out her being a professional thief, and him being a fucking Avenger later. Right?

🕷🕸

Permanent tags: @sociallyeneptbarnes @valkyriesryde @buckysdumbmetalarm @rogvewitch @infj-slytherclaw @whimsicalatbest @readeity @nea90sweetie @aestheticrelated @pinknerdpanda @justabitoverobsessed @imsoft-barnes @actualdpshuri @goalexis123 @https-bucky @stuckyandsciencebros @moli1497 @agentpeggybarnesfanfics @justmebeingtheweirdmeiam @screaming-fridge @geeksareunique @rhymesmenagerie @brokenthelovely @ivoryhazlewood @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @mushyjellybeans @sebbbystaaan @rayche776 @buggy-blogs @estillion14 @perpetually-tuned-out @stuckonjbbarnes @sandyclaws

Series tags: @stateoflovinged

[otomelavenderhaze]

Answering my penpal anon

Gonna put her ask here, with a cut on the Genshin’s history spoiler, if you haven’t played Genshin yet and intend to, don’t read this ask xD 

Helloo!!

I actually can't believe I forgot that about the 4 stars so fast lol even tho I didn't know for sure she was one

Watching videos really can't be helped. I watched some, I think I understand a bit better about the rates, but your explanation was pretty good already. I am almost surprised at your understanding of the game, you sure did your homework!

Probably because both of us aren't native english speakers, nor fully fluent we sometimes can get our ideas mixed up, but it's fine! I get it now, thank you for taking the effort to explain again, Fa, I appreciate it very much!

To have more characters with that flexibility and distinct abilities should balance the game, I guess one example is the combo with Zhongli's shield used by Childe. They complement one another's strong points and make the battle just that easy.

The resin system is not a problem to me yet, but I think it's so unfair now!! You just stop and there's nothing else you can do! Even the meme video about it is depressing, I just think of the lost potential... Mihoyo disappoint me, I thought they were nice for doing surveys and communicating, but I saw a person on tumblr who lost their account and the thief got to keep it because they paid more money in it, so infuriating, and that's an understatement.... I guess if I want a good company I should go with dulcet games, but who knows, I just heard rumors about their good deeds.

I'll just let it go for the plot. Actually I am speeding up and the fastest way I found to level up was focusing on the storyline. (You could tag as spoilers since other people interested could see) So I just got to where we see the sibling as the abyss ruler or smth, and I got so shocked?! My cluelessness is blessed, I didn't think it was actual plot, since I had only seen fanfics about lumine abyss princess as an alternative universe. I recovered my spirit with this! I thought Aether was put in a pot by the deity. I kinda regret picking Lumine, just a bit. To me she was the one that should be all badass ruler, grr. How did you feel about it? Were you shocked or did you already know?

And, you're welcome, penfriend!!

I’m sorry for taking so long to answer, those last days my head has been in another place... and I wasn’t sure about how I could answer this without spoiling to anyone that haven’t played the game yet. Like that thing about Aether-Lumine situation is the big plot twist in the start of the game!! 

I only realized that they add the new four stars that comes in each new banner, after Klee’s banner (that came before Childe’s) xD at that time I was already playing the game for weeks. 

I needed to do my homework G-G I really wanted Zhongli. I needed to be aware of all my chances of getting him. But thank you for saying so. I’m glad that I could help xD I do think it’s better seeing the exacly rate numbers than having me vaguely talking about them, I would hate ruin the game for you in some way. 

You’re so right about characters complementing the other. I saw a youtuber talking about it, in how Noelle, Diona, Xinyan and Zhongli are a game changing now and actually must-to-have in certain situations because they improve the survival of the team. 

About the resin... I saw a youtuber talking about how they will increasing the number of World Bosses (now we have the dragon, the wolf and Childe as big bosses) and each costs us 60 resins, they all together costs 180 resins per week, and if they keep adding more and more weekly bosses, without increasing the amount of resin or shorting the time for the recharge, the game will become unplayable and I agree with him. 

Well, they’re in a some extend, listening to the community, they have a discord channel for Genshin and all..... but they still surely have a long way to go, like I said, I think Beemoov and EA are worst, Mihojo still get’s a slack because they’re still figuring out in how to make the game work and keep content coming while trying to solve basics issues like account security. 

The history quests and chests always give a lot of xp to level up the player’s level!! It’s actually the best way to keep it going. Lumine DOES looks badass as the abyss princess!! It was a huge plot twist for so many of us, I got to shocked and gasped so hard when it happened kkkkkkk that’s why I wanted to keep this answer under some sort of savety thing. It’s one of the best things in the game plot-wise. 

I had no idea she would be the abyss princess, I picked Aether because I normally go for male MCs in rpg games, since I played Pokemon kkkkk I always pick the male main character because I like looking at them xD I was super clueless about it kkkkkk it’s such good reveal KKKKKK 

I can’t wait for when we met her/him, shit will go down kkkkkkk 

[dragons-bones]

FFXIV Write #5: Fifth Invocation

Prompt: Vault | Master Post | On AO3

tagging: @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

“Are you sure we shouldn’t be helping them?”

Synnove examined her nails critically before fishing an emery board from one of her many hip pouches. She smoothed a rough edge only she could see. “Absolutely,” she said, voice icy.

Rereha looked up from shoveling and scowled at her. “Rude.”

“Kunafa,” Synnove hissed.

Rereha yelped and started shoveling faster. Aymeric managed to disguise his laugh as a cough as Synnove muttered about food thieves next to him.

A ‘thunk!’ echoed out of the hole. “Found it,” Alakhai’s voice drifted up.

Synnove and Aymeric stepped back as Heron and Alakhai heaved an ironwood chest over the lip of the hole they’d dug and shoved it onto flat ground. Rereha clambered out, grumbling about needing a manicure, stomping towards the chocobos and dragging all three shovels behind her. As she collapsed the handles and stashed them with their travel packs, Alakhai took out her thieves’ tools and started checking the chest for traps.

Heron dusted herself off and picked up her shield from the boulder she had leaned it up against before starting to dig, slinging it onto her arm loosely. “Twelve, let this one finally give us a portal,” she groused. Alakhai grunted agreement.

Aymeric wrapped an arm around Synnove’s waist, the Highlander leaning into his side automatically. The pair of them both ignored Rereha’s gagging noise behind them. “Where exactly do these chests come from?” Aymeric said. “I recall towards the end of the Dragonsong War, there seemed to be a surprising amount of successful treasure hunters throughout Coerthas and Dravania for such a supposedly rare occurrence.”

“Current working theory in the Adventurers’ Guild is there’s some supposed legendary thief who’s left breadcrumbs to their hoard of unimaginable wealth,” Synnove said, dropping her head onto his travel-leather covered shoulder. “Considering how often we come back to the same spots and find a new chest, someone is either physically reburying chests, or has a very sophisticated teleportation spell system that automatically ‘refills’ a location.”

Aymeric rested his chin on her head and drawled, “And if it’s the later, you want it.”

“I want it baaaaaad.”

“That’s what she said,” Rereha muttered as she rejoined them. She stepped out of the way of the kick Synnove aimed at her. Aymeric snickered into Synnove’s hair despite himself.

Alakhai, meanwhile, stood up and stashed her tools in her belt. “Chest is clear,” she said. “Just one of those scent traps to lure in the local wildlife.”

“All right, let’s be disappointed,” Rereha said.

The Xaela snorted, and popped the lid. Almost immediately, a dark, circular portal ripped into existence above the open lid.

“Finally!” the four woman all shouted. Aymeric laughed.

Alakhai quickly rifled through the chest. “Tomestones, of course. I swear, whoever this thief is, they must be working with—”

“Don’t say the name!”

“—Rowena.”

Rereha, Heron, and Synnove collectively shuddered; Aymeric hugged Synnove a little closer as she muttered about under her breath about how terrifying that woman was.

Alakhai ignored them all, merely adding, “And some gil, just add that to the pile for later.”

Heron whistled, and the chocobos all came over to settle in next to the chest, on guard for any opportunistic looters. Synnove reluctantly pulled free of Aymeric to help gather the potions and empty bags from the packs.

Once they were ready, Alakhai reached towards the portal, channeling her aether into. The group of five vanished…

…with the portal teleporting them to the platform in the middle of a room covered in gaudy Thavnairian iconography and statuary.

“Yes!” Rereha said, raising her fists in victory. “The Shifting Altars!”

Synnove snapped her fingers, and all three of the carbuncles tumbled out of the aether. They sniffed around curiously before settling around the arcane sphere floating gently near the inner circle of the platform, with Heron heading towards the immediate center, sword drawn and shield at the ready.

Rereha clapped her hands excitedly. “All right, explanation for our guest,” she said cheerfully. “You’ll notice this platform is surrounded by what’s basically a roulette ring.”

“Bit hard to miss,” Aymeric said drily.

“You’d be surprised,” Alakhai muttered.

“Touching the arcane sphere over yonder activates the ring,” Rereha continued. “Blue is a lesser summon; green a greater summon; red an elder summon; gold brings some…special friends; purple is an atomos that will throw us out of the Altars, or maybe not; and white… we’ve got no idea. We’ve never seen the wheel land on it. In any event, we do this five times if an atomos doesn’t do terrible, terrible things to us, then we get teleported out of here and whichever madman maintains this setup resets it for the next group of lunatic adventurers.”

“Summons are always some large monster, and they inevitably will bring some of their friends in the middle of the fight,” Heron called out. “Tyr will normally corral them for us, but sometimes it gets hectic; if you could help him on that?”

Aymeric saluted her, unsheathing Naegling from his hip.

“I know it doesn’t need repeating, but it’s a good habit to keep,” Alakhai said in the monotonous drone of someone who has to give the spiel before. “So: today’s attempt at treasure is on behalf of the Arcanists’ Guild scholarship funds, all proceeds and profits from found items sold on the market go to finance the educational opportunities of Eorzea’s finest minds, et cetera, et cetera.”

“The amount of people who don’t read the posted message in full is depressing,” Synnove muttered.

“Alakhai, when you’re ready!”

The Xaela waved to Heron and waded her way through the carbuncles to the sphere. “Going on three!” she called out, lifting her hand to begin channeling aether.

“Three! Two! One!”

The next bell was an exercise in carefully controlled chaos: avoiding spells, ducking tails, dodging claws, tossing potions to one another, and herding smaller monsters out of the way to be dealt with methodically. Aymeric, thankfully, had accompanied them on bounty hunting expeditions before, so while he didn’t possess the Echo, he unhesitatingly moved where directed by Synnove or Heron as their own Echoes alerted them of incoming danger. (He also had the best sense for where to throw Ivar so the ruby carbuncle and his grenade programming could cause the maximum amount of damage.) In between bouts of combat, Synnove and Rereha looted the treasure chests that teleported to the center of the platform, shoving gil into their rapidly-filling bags along with bars of assorted metals, bolts of liquid, and bottles of liquid they identified as components for enhancing specific magical properties on armor.

One particular item they found was a piece of fine linen that had Galette immediately making sad eyes at Synnove.

She sighed. “All right, sweetheart, you can have it. A scarf, maybe?”

Galette yipped excitedly as Synnove folded the bolt up and shoved it into one of her hip pouches. Yes, please!

And the once the loot was dealt with, onto the next round of battle.

(Aymeric stared at the enormous mandragora the gold icon summoned for them. “That,” he said, “is absolutely ridiculous.”

“And annoying,” Synnove said with a sigh. “He brings along a matching crew that have to be brought down in a specific order or it gets…ugly. At least it wasn’t the enormous golden namazu and his damned pitchfork.”

“Oh, now I know you’re having me on, love.”)

Finally, they made it through four invocations. Synnove stared critically as the roulette wheel around them reset to only three types of icons: red, purple, and white. “This is either going to be very disappointing or very ugly,” she said.

Heron said with a shrug, “At least we didn’t get an atomos before this point; if we get one now, it wouldn’t have been all for naught.”

“Spit, not swallow.”

“REREHA!” three voices bellowed. Aymeric choked in surprise, laughing through a cough as Synnove pounded him on the back and scowled at the lalafell as she did. Rereha merely cackled.

Alakhai aimed a kick at Rereha as she headed back for the arcane sphere; Rereha of course danced out of the way with an especially ostentatious twirl. “All right,” the Xaela said, “let’s get this over with, I want a nap.”

The circle of aether light cheerfully clicked around the ring for the last time. It began to slow, before calming to a halt on the purple atomos icon. The group all head their breath.

Then—

It clicked over to the white elephant icon, and activated.

“Oh, my gods, we are gonna die and it’s gonna be ugly,” Rereha said, wide eyed, as black aether began coalescing at the middle of the platform and the entire room lit up with golden light.

The shadowy aether roared upwards, nearly to the high arched ceiling of the Altar, then collapsed downward. The five readied themselves, weapons drawn, with the carbuncles crouching to pounce. And as the aether dissipiated—

—a grey matanga stood in the very middle. He was tiny for a matanga, about Synnove’s height, and his tusks were very short, barely curling upwards on either side of his trunk. His head nearly twice the size of the rest of his body, and his enormous ears twitched as he looked around in bewilderment.

“What?!” he said, then blinked huge black eyes. “Oh, a summoning! I’ve never done this before!” He clapped his hands excitedly, trunk curling in obvious delight.

(Synnove gurgled, grimoire dropping to the ground as she clutched her chest with both hands. “Oh no,” she wheezed, “he’s fucking adorable.”

“Synnove, you will control yourself,” Alakhai hissed back.)

“You’ve come for treasure, yes?” the matanga prince squeaked out, apparently not hearing the exchange. “Then treasure you shall ha—HRK!”

There was now a Highlander attached to the young creature, hugging the life out of him. “You’re so CUTE!”

The matanga blinked. “Thank…you?”

Ivar sat back on his haunches, paws covering his eyes, and chattered out a groan. Mama is so embarrassing. Galette and Tyr nodded agreement.

Aymeric, Naegling sheathed at his side, inched closer, carefully gripping Synnove’s arms. “Now, dear,” he said, as Synnove sniffled back overwhelmed tears, “it’s a bit rude to hug a stranger without permission.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine!” the matanga said. “This feels really nice! You give very good hugs, miss!”

Synnove made that horrible gurgling sound again. Aymeric sighed quietly.

Rereha put her hand in her hands as Heron rubbed her temples. Alakhai merely looked up, mouthing, Why. Why this.

Aymeric patted Synnove gently on the back, and finally tried again. “I’m sure the younger master needs to go,” he said to her. “His parents are likely wondering why this is taking so long.”

“I’m sorry!” the prince said. “I really do to return home.”

She sniffled again, hard, but reluctantly drew back, and let Aymeric shuffle her a few paces away.

The matanga prince waved. “Bye, miss! Thank you for the hug!”

Synnove waved sadly in return, and the little matanga vanished in a pop of aether, leaving behind a large treasure chest Rereha immediately darted towards. She sniffed and turned to drop her head on Aymeric’s chest. “He was so precious,” she said.

Aymeric hugged her. “Yes, he was,” he said, patting her back soothingly.

Another sniff. “Aymeric?”

“No, Synnove.”

“Damnit.”

[fistsoflightning]

rue the day

we will regret this day. let us hope we live long enough to do so.

notes: shadowbringers lvl 79 quest spoilers ‘extinguishing the last light’ just in case, slight drk spoilers!

new writing post format because i likey screenshots! it also makes it easier to put my writing tag on my tags page lol

words: 2647

Under the relentless and horrific pain the Light brings, Zaya falls, their own aether warping and twisting the soft night above them into a harsh, eternal day. The Light brought together is stronger than they alone—an outcome long predicted, but Zaya is nothing if not hope—according to one Tataru Taru—so Zaya pushes forth in against the unbearable light.

That hope has done nothing but kill us slowly; what use is it in face of despair?

A flash of crystalline blue light and the relief from the screeching Light by way of wailing wind forces Zaya to get to their knees, eyes barely lifting off the ground to see the Exarch, a stalwart figure in deep red and black against the backdrop of eternal light. His stance is relaxed; resigned, almost, but not to the inevitability that the final Lightwarden will be them. With how he walks soft upon marble to soothe their horns, it cannot be the death of the final Warrior that he expects.

He waves his staff towards them—a staff charm hangs on one of the boxy holes near the top, red rubies and fire twisting with his blue aether—and it is as if the air clears. Light channels like the Lifestream between the two of them as Zaya pulls their head up higher and higher, watching the translucent blue crystal of the Exarch’s arm flake off and become an impure white midair.

“At journey’s end,” he speaks in a lilt Zaya has not remembered in a long, long time. “An opportunistic thief makes off with the hero’s prize. A paltry way to end a chapter, I concede.”

The winds rise higher into the barrier of aether the Exarch has made, the patterns on the barrier climbing into the skies as Alisaie begins to slam her fists against it, begging the Exarch to stop, to think for a damned second about what he’s doing before it’s too late.

“Yet your tale will continue, and my role in it will be scarcely remembered.” He continues with his final words despite Alisaie’s protests, signing the last line on his death sentence as light swirls and swirls around in his eyes, his arm, his chest. Zaya starts to lift their hand up to the trail of Light, pulling the strength needed to draw aether into themselves again when—

“Worry not.” The Exarch tilts his staff a little lower, and again the flow of Light tips back to him, and Zaya is forced to watch as the black of his skirts and hood are tainted with white ink patterns. “Whatever should become of me, I will be happy and free, safe in the knowledge that I have played my part.”

How could you say that?! A voice screams from the abyss worlds away, pounding against a wall of light. What about those that you left? The ones still waiting for you?

Zaya lets Light drip down their face as the flame grows fierce in their chest. What else is there to say? To do? Their strength is all but gone, and without enough focus, they cannot try to play martyr for another. Just like the last time you had to be saved.

The Exarch, smiling and wistfully happy under his hood, pushes more magic through his staff. The eternal winds pick up around them faster than before, and the Exarch, too caught up in his final moments, fails to account for the wind and his identity. Fading red hair and whitened tips fly free from their confines, the Exarch’s eyes closing in a moment of surprise, and the final piece it takes is—  

His ears. There’s a scar on the left one, from when Zaya “accidentally” shot their bow at him while racing for the crystalline dust required to open the Tower; he’d never had A’dewah heal it despite the chance of it ruining his ear, for it was a “reminder of a good friend”.

All suspicions proved, Zaya takes the greatest leap of faith.

“G…” Light bubbles in their throat, hissing as they force a strained voice to sing an unfamiliar tune. “G...raha?”

G’raha’s eyes shoot open, both irises now crimson like the false moon that once circled the tower, and tears start to well up as he finally gets the ramifications of his actions while hidden away. Instead of pulling his staff back, however, he pushes forward , calling greater winds as Thancred, Y’shtola, and Urianger gasp at the sight of a fellow Archon they knew a long time ago. His ears twitch at the sound of their pained gasps, but he does not look back.

“Thank you for fighting for this world. For believing.” G’raha lets unstained tears fall from crimson eyes like moonlight as the light begins to wrap around his head in thick, transparent feathers. His words are practiced—it is easy to tell by how he does not forget or stutter, but it cannot be said that he is emotionless when he pauses. “Fare you well, my friend—my inspiration. ”

And Zaya is so overwhelmed by the weight of his lie, the weight of his heart poured out in less than twenty words, the sheer misfortune of them meeting again wholly and truly now , at the brink of his death, that they look down—just for a moment, but they do.

Never look away.

A gunshot rings out as quickly as G’raha can expand the barrier between the two of them and the Scions, and the Light comes rushing back towards Zaya, leaving G’raha the way he was before this whole ‘absorbing the Light’ mess. He falls forward, coming close enough for Zaya to reach out and brush his ear as blood seeps through his robes, metal staff and charm meeting ground in an ugly clang. The sound of something breaking brings back horrible memories, filled with a different kind of light and wound and sound as a metal shield meets smooth stone, aether swirling about just like the Light does now.

G’RAHA! The flame bursts a crack into that invisible wall of light deep inside and blinding them with a rage long forgotten and retrieved. The fire is so overwhelming, so unfamiliar now that when they look up again from G’raha’s bleeding body, Zaya meets eye to eye with Emet-Selch, holding a Garlean gun pointed at the scales between their eyes.

“To think he went through all this trouble for the sake of a single hero. It’s almost admirable in its absurdity; reminds me of a fool from long ago…” Emet-Selch steps closer, around and over G’raha’s weak body. “My, my. Have you heard a single thing I’ve said just now?”

Zaya can barely hear him over the din of Light that’s returned with the loss of sobbing winds, but they somehow muster the energy to shake their head. He clicks his tongue. “No matter; you will forget anyhow when your grand scheme falls flat. Look at you; already on the verge of turning, eater .”

Emet-Selch laughs bitterly as Zaya pieces together the bloodstained pieces of the puzzle to find that the damned Ascian in front of them went back on his word; a liar in every right. Some “Angel of Truth” he was.

“I wonder; should I end your misery now to have one of your precious friends here end the land? They’d be plenty strong, especially with the shock of aether your death would provide.” Zaya follows the Ascian with their eyes as he slowly makes his way to kneel in front of them. Under his robe, a glimmer catches their eye; a… Crystal of Light? It gleams honey gold with the aether of the earth around them, despite how twisted its become.

Syhrwyda’s crystal? She’d never give it up, unless…

Emet-Selch catches Zaya’s gaze while looking at the Scions; they’re shellshocked with every right to be so. “Oh, seen these before, have you?”

He pulls back his short fuzzy coat to reveal seven necklaces with seven crystals of Light hanging from them, motionless without wind. “I had to, you know. They’d attacked me even before I could plead my case! You’ve been the first so far to listen, to care enough to try.”

Emet-Selch kneels, eyes and mouth tilting in a taunting sort of way, layered with the calculating look in his eyes.. “I understand you have a ‘Shadowhunter’ friend back home. ‘Tis only fair for me to take due payment for the lives of my brethren.”

Due payment? DUE PAYMENT?! The flames burn up everything and anything that Zaya has left of their restraints, letting both Light in and Darkness out as they rise to their feet, light aether swirling around them into feathers as Zaya loses sight, loses touch, loses focus.

Emet-Selch rambles about truth and despair and the Rejoining in a blurry mess as Zaya tries and fails to stop the turning, lurching ever closer to the Ascian, who is so convinced that they were down for the count that he turns his back. Lightning—all purple and indigo rather than cobalt blue—leaps to shock the Ascian, and he jumps. A surprising action, but Zaya drinks in his surprise and speechlessness all the same.

The speechlessness doesn’t last all that long, but it’s the look of his face that counts. Emet-Selch composes himself, and Zaya is so very tempted to leap forward and punch him hard, not accounting for how much energy it would take or risk it would incur; this liar is one worthy of punishment with a double-edged sword.

Make him regret this. Something… not entirely of the abyss speaks to them, angry and defiant in every right. It twists words in the wrong way; it can’t be Fray, but Zaya is not of the right mind, and certainly cannot care at this moment.

The bastard smirks when he looks at Zaya, looking deep at their soul and emotions as if there was no such thing as privacy , thank you very much.

“Ahh, the irony. What Vauthry achieved through bliss and ignorance, you will achieve through despair and anger.” Sparks fly towards him, but they all fade before possibly reaching his hands. Zaya’s sight grows shaky. “But I have overstayed my welcome. I shall look forward to seeing you bring the world to its knees.”

Zaya faintly hears an ‘again’ under the simmering problems raging in them, but he tuts as they strain to focus again, teetering back and forth on the line of no return. Emet-Selch snaps G’raha out of existence—surely he did the same to Syhrwyda, Tehra’ir, Lumelle, everyone else before them—and floats himself high above Zaya’s angry reach. Only for now; just a few seconds more and Zaya will have wings , like they’ve always wanted to be free and wild and glorious —

“I pity you, I do.” Emet-Selch’s bitterness and regret cuts through the thickest of Light induced thinking, voice like seeping poison on Zaya’s tired mind. “Your friends are now your foes; if you do not kill them, they will kill you.”

And in that, Zaya picks up on the faintest ‘I’ve been through this, too’ lined with lightning and rain.

“In the dark depths of the Tempest, I have an abode. Seek me out when it becomes too much to bear.” The edges of the Ascian begin to fade into teleportation magicks as Zaya’s body sways, aether expended and flame turning to embers. “There, you may complete your descent into madness with some dignity, far from prying eyes.”

“Till then, I bid you farewell… eater.”

As Emet-Selch dissipates, the anger that’s been fueling their control goes too, and they fall onto the floor, writhing as Light fully takes hold in lack of a balance; the embers are barely there, even when Zaya sees Thancred and Y’shtola and Ryne through light-stained vision, even when Alisaie’s bruised hands lift them up, even when Ryne starts to tear up at the light hardening over skin.

Don’t you dare give in, not when this is… not when we are so close.

And from the depths of the pit of ashen embers, something small and fading rises up to rush through and claim more aether from Zaya to form, gleaming a purple-pink as it forms right over Thancred’s shoulder.

We aren’t finished yet, are we? We aren’t going to accept defeat this time, are we? Fray murmurs as they quickly kneel besides Ryne, channeling a spell meant to seal and freeze aether. Their helmet is already fading, and Thancred stares onwards as the blue and black scales are revealed from underneath the helm.

You have those you can yet save. Those we have already lost. Remember, for all of us, the times we’ve had, the stories unfinished. Fray’s whisperings chase them back into safety, into a deep dark that has always been there, and Zaya, sick and tired of fighting, lets go for what could be the final time, etching the faces of their family as their final memory.

Zaya wakes in a fit, a full moon later. The room; empty, save for the sleeping figure of Thancred by the window where the Crystarium plants have well and truly died from the repeated change in light. The pain and weight of the Light still pounds behind their eyes, waiting to be freed from the confines of Fray and Ryne’s ministrations to end Norvrandt once and for all.

Nhaama’s tits, they’re surprised they’re even alive and mortal anymore.

They should go back to bed, before Thancred wakes up and sees them up and around. He’d alarm the rest of the Scions to their state, and they’d all come rushing back to the most dangerous place to be; near the Lightwarden, near the civilization that holds their last hopes in Lyna, Ryne, the Crystalline Mean, and the Crystal—

Just as quickly as Zaya had laid back down, they shoot back up, remembering the gunshot, the blood, the roar of Light and the older parts of their soul as Emet-Selch…

Zaya lets their feet guide them to the door, looking back only once to make sure the door clicking shut does not disturb Thancred, as it has many times before. Their blue robe, stained an inky white, rests over his back—after Zaya is sure it will not do any damage to Thancred’s aether too, and instead they wear a large cloak as they slink towards the aetheryte plaza unnoticed. They would much rather sleep forever under the light of the Crystarium, wait for a cure to the Lightwarden affliction, but...

They have something left to do.

Thancred wakes up two minutes too late. A robe is draped over his back (still somewhat warm), and the door is left ajar, letting voices from further down carry into the spacious inn room.

“Was that…?” A young lady asks in whispers.

“That was the one who came here on a stretcher!” A child whisper-yells back.

Thancred, despite the aches in his bones and the stiffness of his muscles, shoots up from his seat, takes the tattered robe in hand, and runs out the door. The Light above is blinding now, with how long Zaya has slept, and if they were to leave without Ryne’s help, it could most certainly mean death!

“Hells open, heavens weep… Zaya?!” Thancred begins to call as he rushes through the Pendants, past the clerk with worried eyes and past Bragi into the aetheryte plaza just as a flash of teleportation magic goes off. “Zaya!”

He can’t follow them—he never could keep up, much less now —and by the time he calls for help… where will they be? In a grave? In the Empty, seeking death? Already a Lightwarden? Gods, how many times has he lost them now; Ifrit, the Praetorium, the banquet, to Doma, to another world …

He cannot—will not let this be another bygone.

By the time the other Scions return to the Crystarium under Lyna’s call, the Light above is burning their mistake into their skin.

[w-m-blake]

I’m very proud of the writing I’ve done this week! Mortal Truth; and You Wish You Didn’t Ask the Question came out on Sunday; You Are Dead, My Life, and I Still Breathe came out yesterday; and I just posted the fifth chapter of The Sands of Titan! This week has been very productive! To celebrate (and because I want to know what people are interested in reading next), under the cut I’m putting the titles and short synopses of fics I’ve got on my to-do list. Message me if you want more information/want to weigh in on what to write next.

If Even Death Were Grace: “we begin in the dark/and birth is the death of us,” Anne Carson, “antigonick.” Anthony Stark, son of Howard Stark, Titan of the Forge, and Maria Carbonell, Titaness of Family and the Hearth, God of Invention, finds himself like Iphigenia, a sacrifice—a pawn—to placate the furies of other deities, for transgressions he didn’t commit. Nevertheless, he holds his chin up and walks the path to Hel, averting a war and agreeing to a marriage both. Better this than the alternative. Frostiron, retelling of Persephone and Hades (at least inspired by) with Tony in the place of Persephone and Loki as Hades.

I’m Not Playing God: (All this time, I’ve been playing human.) Frostiron, ThorBruce. Tony Stark walks out of the abandoned bunker in Siberia having awakened, realizing he was a god born to walk with humans. Rewriting from about the end of Ragnarok to Endgame.

I Hear You Whisper underneath Your Breath/I Hear You Whisper You Have Nothing Left: Tony wakes from nightmares of a life he can hardly imagine, a life where he’s left behind in a freezing bunker by an enemy wearing Steve Rogers’ face. Loki tries to comfort him, to distract him from these visions, but they become harder and harder to ignore—until something has to give. Frostiron.

Desiring More Yet: Harley Keener is always hungry, always starving, always looking for the next thing to drive his teeth into. He burns through ideas, through petty lovers, through inventions and motivations and addictions, looking for something—anything—that will satisfy him. He was hungry before leaving Rose Hill, his hunger driving him to New York, and he's still hungry even now, even cared for and loved by Tony and Pepper, even in this place that was supposed to be everything that he wanted. Perhaps it was some kind of idle dream, expecting thing new place to be all that he wanted, all that he needed.It did, at least, provide more distractions from his hunger than Rose Hill, Tennessee did. Peter Parker is content with what he has. Most of the time, at least. Sure, sometimes he's a little lonely—but Aunt May, Ned, MJ, Tony, Pepper, they're all there for him, just a phone call or a text away at their farthest. Sure, sometimes he carries this guilt from not doing enough, not being enough, failing people—but he's Spiderman, and he can't afford to get too down, because he's got other people counting on him. He pulls through. Sure, sometimes, the night is so big and dark and he feels like it's so empty it's going to swallow him whole, but Karen's in his ear all night, keeping him going. He's fine. Really. Maybe he's not as fine as he wants to be. Parkner.

One-Part Sadness, Two-Parts Tragedy: a Harley Keener character study told in three parts: the first is his time in Rose Hill, the second his transition from Rose Hill to NYC with Tony and Pepper’s help, and the third NYC post-Endgame. Major character death, no happy ending.

Warfare and a Man at War: a Tony Stark character study that will be a series, beginning with Warfare and a Man at War, followed by Of Gods and Men and concluding with In Hope and Fear. Warfare and a Man at War will focus on human conflict, the struggles of human war and its effects. Of Gods and Men will be the introduction of aliens and Other threats, justified paranoia, and how one fights an outmatched battle to win. In Hope and Fear will conclude the series; it will be the end results, the conclusion, what happens to civilians once the threat is “gone.”

Brinesoaked Bodies: mermaid!au. Chapter titles: “Left Broadside onto Breaking Seas;” “The Black Hurricane;” “Worn by Winds on Every Sea;” “The Whole Uproar of the Great Sea Fell Silent;” “Serenity that Calms the Weather;” “Brinesoaked Bodies.”

Insensible Shades: a Rapunzel/Tangled au meets Orpheus/Eurydice. Harley is the stolen child of King Anthony and Queen Virginia. Peter, a thief/vigilante dubbed “Spiderman,” is on the run from the kingdom’s guards—a misunderstanding, he insists—and comes across a tower. He takes Harley to see the lanterns, initially rather unwillingly, only to accidentally drag Harley into the mess of his non-legal affairs. Peter sacrifices himself to save Harley; Harley, in turn, becomes like Orpheus and travels to Hel to trade for Peter. Parkner, angst with a happy ending.

Boyfriend Clothes: Harley Keener lives in the same dorm as his friend, Peter Parker. They aren’t the closest—Ned Leeds and Michelle Jones definitely take up more of Peter’s time than Harley does—but they share physics and engineering courses, and both work as personal interns for Tony Stark—which is kind of code for Tony pseudo-adopting the young geniuses. Harley’s best friend is Shuri. She laughs at how Harley gushes over Peter—so long as he isn’t around. In turn, Harley teases Shuri for how she stammers around MJ. They’re both disaster gays. One night, Harley sees Peter walking to/from the bathroom (or something similar in the dorm) in pajama bottoms (shorts, which barely come past the shirt he’s wearing over them) and a giant fleece button down. It reached down almost to his mid-thigh and hung off his shoulder a little, the top button undone so the shirt was open to about his mid-sternum. Harley took this as obvious evidence that Peter now had a boyfriend (maybe even staying in his room that very night) and had to get to the bottom of it; he had to at least know who Peter was with—if only for the purposes of moving on. Parkner, college!au, no powers, silly fluff & humor, shenanigans.

Untitled #1: In order to keep the Time Stone from Thanos, Stephen Strange liquefies it (the way that the Reality Stone becomes Aether) and places it inside the only one on Titan who has withstood an infinity stone before: Tony. Thanos retreats temporarily to plan again; Tony must learn to use his newly-gained magic before he returns in order to save the universe.

Untitled #2: Disturbances occurring in the magical “ley lines” or Circumstances lead to Stephen investigating the multiverse; the disturbances aren’t coming from within this universe, or perhaps even any specific universe. They seem to be coming from all universes and none of them at the same time; it’s the roots of Yggdrasil, shaking with anticipation for whatever is on its way. A horror lurks in the void between Yggdrasil’s roots, and Stephen has to locate and banish it. Frostironstrange, Ironstrange, multiple universes, alternate timelines, horror/lovecraftian horror.

Untitled #3: Space pirates. The Ironfam (Tony, Pepper, Rhodey, Bruce, Peter, Harley, Morgan) are on the run from the imperial rule of the SHIELD system upon Tony, Rhodey, and Bruce discovering the way their military employers maintain and gain power. They’re pursued by a small task-force (Steve, Natasha, Clint, and Sam; Phil is their handler) from SHIELD and the Winter Soldier, a ship from the HYDRA system (once a colony of SHIELD which revolted and is now in the throes of a Reign of Terror, French revolution style) commandeered by a (brain-washed) captain proficient at hiding his ship using comets and ice rock fields. (The Winter Soldier is captained by James Barnes, a spy sent by SHIELD to keep an eye on HYDRA, only to fall into their hands.) The Winter Soldier has commands to capture Tony, Rhodey, and Bruce for their military & scientific knowledge. Yggdrasil is a system far enough from SHIELD and HYDRA that neither know of it; it’s ruled by Odin, king of Asgard and conqueror of Jotunheimr, Vanaheimr, Alfheim, Muspell, Svartalfheim, Niflheim, and Nidavellir. Loki was taken from Jotunheimr when it was the last planet to be subdued by Asgard, being the furthest planet from the system’s star; Odin intends on making Loki the ambassador for the Jotuns, knowing that they still mourn the loss of their prince. Loki doesn’t take this well when he finds out; his mother Freyja helps him to flee. Odin sends Thor after him to capture him “on grounds of treason.” Stephen Strange flees the Sanctum Sanctorum System when his planet, Kamar-Taj, is invaded by the rapidly-spreading empire Dormammu. The Ancient One had been grooming Stephen for taking her position as the protector of Kamar-Taj once she had stepped down, but Kaecilius, a jealous pupil of hers, aided Dormammu in infiltrating Kamar-Taj’s defenses as what he saw as retribution for being looked over for the position. The Ancient One, worried for the fate of the people she protects (not necessarily governs, though almost every government on Kamar-Taj recognized her as an influential power), sent Stephen away, having one of her trusted advisers, Wong, take him from the system. Kaecilius hears of the plot to sneak Stephen off the planet before the Dormammu forces could invade, and he attempts to prevent their escape. This fails, but Stephen does gain the favor of the Cloak of Levitation in this fight. Stephen and Wong escape, bringing the Cloak. Stephen intends on someday returning to rid Kamar-Taj of Dormammu rule, but he has a lot to learn from Wong and the universe first. All of these plotlines intersect, threading through, around, and with one another. Polycule: Tony, Pepper, Rhodey, Bruce. Eventual additions of Frostironstrange and ThorBruce

Untitled #4: sick!fic; I have the list of headcanons/ideas here. Parkner. Cute & fluffy, featuring trans Peter with an unidentified but minor sickness and Harley being a good boyfriend.

Untitled #5: Stardust!au. Part One: Tony Stark leaves Wall to explore the land beyond it which beckons him, but only for a short time, with people depending on him back home. He falls for an imprisoned fae, attempts to free him, but ultimately fails and must return to Wall. Not long after, the watcher of the wall brings him a child in a wicker basket named Harley. Part Two: Eighteen years later, Harley Keener is infatuated with a girl named Victoria. He, trying to win her hand over her other suitor, E.J., promises to bring her a star that they see falling from the sky. He expects something like a precious stone; he, instead, meets Peter. They get dragged into an adventure running from star-eating warlocks, meeting lightning-catching pirates—who always make sure to dock frequently, so their captain can see his alchemist spouse—and a wild scramble for a throne that seems to have no viable heir. (Whether the fae is Loki or Stephen, I haven’t yet decided. Weigh in if you have a preference.) Parkner, ThorBruce, either Frostiron or Ironstrange.

Beyond these, I have my NaNoWriMo story (rough hands//soft hearts) and my Clint Barton Bingo card.

[kelliangrey-ffxivrp]

Short Story - Misadventure in the Shroud

It’s been a long time since I wrote anything to post on a public forum, but that kind of was the whole point when I started the blog. This was mostly a warm up, but maybe I’ll try to continue the plot line when the mood next strikes me. In any case, if you choose to read on, I hope you enjoy it!

Kellian had made a promise not to bite off more than he could chew. Despite his best efforts, Kellian was not particularly good at keeping his promises. As he crashed through the dense undergrowth, he hissed and sucked in painful breath around cracked ribs until finally he slid under a fallen log and straightened up to put his back to it, wincing and grunting. “Bloody hells.” He cursed, opening his coat to find the bandolier tucked around his chest, retrieving a vial from it and quaffing the contents, grunting as the bitter taste went down. “Fix? How many of them are there?”

His mammet, floating loyally by his head as always, lifted herself on aetherfoil wings to peek over the top of the log. “Seven.” She announced. Lifting a little higher to peek, it wasn’t long before an arrowhead struck her in her small forehead with the sharp clang of metal-on-metal, and she dropped to the floor. Kel lifted the mammet into his lap, brushing a thumb over the shallow dent.

“Are you okay?” He asked, frowning. “Yes. Alert, Kellian. They are armed and surprisingly accurate.” “No kidding.” Kel grunted, letting the mammet take to the air under her own power once more as he shifted to kneel. His injuries didn’t bother him so much thanks to the mixture he drank, though he knew he’d need someone to take a look at it before he called it a day or he’d regret it in the morning. Patting around for a different pocket, he retrieved a few rounds of ammunition and began to slot them into the chamber of his trick-rifle. “Think you can spot them out for me?” He asked, retrieving a sleek visor from inside his jacket and unfolding the arms to put it over his face. “Yes.” After a few moments for the device to initialise, Kel’s stolen (and modified, naturally) Garlean Shadow visor gave him vision of the surrounding area once more - only now, the tiny pricks of light that his mammet recognised as aetheric signatures were visible to him. He saw seven of the coerlclaw poachers, just as Fixia had counted. Kel turned in his position of cover to try and get an angle, though he couldn’t tell their bearing or armament with the visor he at least knew that three were hanging back while the other four moved up to try and flank his position. It was a good tactic. If he moved, he’d be shot down and if he stayed where he was it wouldn’t be long before they had a good angle to do just that anyway. It was a bad spot to be in, but luckily Kel had one significant advantage.

He was a dirty, underhanded cheat.

His hands tightening on the grip of his rifle, he slid his other hand into the hold on the inside of its bladed length, taking a breath.

‘One flank at a time.’ He thought to himself. Without emerging from cover, he checked the position of the two moving up on his right before he sprang into action. Leaping out of cover and over a rotting stump, he twisted just in time to avoid the first of likely many arrows, firing in the short space of a second before he hit the ground. The aether-charged round splintered right through one of the thick trees, eliciting a rewarding howl of pain from the poacher on the other side. Rolling to lie on his stomach, Kel fired again, splintering more wood. A miss, judging by the unchanged aether signature. He flicked the revolving chamber out to the side of his rifle once more, reaching for another special round from his satchel and sliding it into place. The chamber snapped back into place, and Kel span it with his thumb, pulling the trigger as soon as the correct round passed the hammer. This aether-charged round fired with an even louder crack - but as it struck the tree and passed through the wood, it split into shards of razor-sharp shrapnel, coming out the other side as a deadly hurricane of metal shards. They didn’t have enough velocity to kill, most likely, but they at least took a second poacher out of the fight.

“Behind you.” Fix’s alert came with no urgency to her voice, but Kel knew better than to ignore the mammet’s advanced warnings. He rolled and brought his weapon up to clash with the axe being swung down at his back from above, grunting as he parried the downward force into the dirt just above his shoulder. He twisted, swinging his right leg into the poacher’s knee. The dense metal of his prosthetic foot cracked into the man’s joint with an audible snap, and he dropped to the ground, howling and holding his knee. That was, until Kel brought the heel of his metal foot down onto the side of his head as hard as he could. It didn’t really matter whether he was dead - just so long as he wouldn’t be rejoining the fight. Pulling the visor off his face, he tossed it aside as his next opponent came charging at him with a spear - the other flanking enemy from the left. Only just having got to his feet, Kel had to scramble to avoid the spear - it tore against the fabric of his coat at his shoulder, but didn’t graze his flesh. As he twisted again to avoid another thrust at his hip, Kel shifted his grip on his trick-rifle. The mechanism in the grip shifted, lining up parallel with the straight edges of the blade; now more comfortably wielded as a heavy (and admittedly slightly awkward) sword - though it was far more useful now to parry the head of the thrusting spear. He caught the bladed tip with a swipe of his own weapon across his torso, turning it to once more go up and over his shoulder. With his opponent’s arms up high, he took a single step forward to deliver a winding blow to their sternum with a heavy kick from his good leg. As they stumbled backward, Kel let the momentum cause him to stagger away in the opposite direction. Once he found his feet again, he held his weapon up in rifle-grip once more, and promptly shot his opponent in the gut. Grinning, he felt a clever quip coming to his lips - one that was promptly cut off as an arrow embedded itself in his shoulder. The only thing that had saved him from getting it in the neck was the cocky pose he’d adopted. Cursing his own stupidity, Kel threw himself to the ground once more as two other arrows whizzed by.

Leaving his rifle on the ground for a moment, Kel gripped the arrowhead in both hands - not to pull it out, as he knew that would be unwise, but instead to snap the shaft about a fist’s length from where it had buried into his flesh. It was the best compromise between retaining some mobility and not bleeding out, he figured, and he managed to hide his reaction save for a minor whimper through grit teeth.

“Are you functional, Kellian?” “Aye.” Kel bit back. “Just another scar. Three left.”

“They seem to be holding position. Likely they are not as proficient in close quarters as those who were sent to flank you.”

Kel glanced at the poacher writhing with a shot through his gut. “Then they’ll be like kittens in a fistfight.” He said dryly. “I don’t see me getting close, though. They’ve got a good angle on us.” He took a moment to think, though he frowned as it was difficult to form thoughts around the goraning poacher. A smack to the head with the butt of his rifle solved that. Reaching into a satchel at his waist, Kel retrieved a steel cylinder from it and twisted the top, offering it to Fix. “Take this flash bomb. Stay above me, in the trees. When I signal, drop it.”

“Understood.” Fix said, hugging the flash-bomb to her chest as it was about half her diminutive size. Using the cover of the trees, she lifted higher to the skies and disappeared into the foliage above. With a bracing breath, Kel sheathed his rifle in the leather holster on his back, grunting as he got to his feet, his hands up above his head. He had to duck as another arrow whizzed past, and he called out with a scowl. “Hey!” He snarled. “I’m surrendering! You got me!” Luckily, they seemed to believe him.

“Come forward!” One barked, while the other two kept their bows trained on him. “And don’t try anything. You’re gonna answer for making us chase you through the forest. Gods help you if you don’t have what you stole!”

“Wouldn’t be a particularly good thief if I’d dropped it.” Kel said dryly, fishing in his pocket to retrieve the amulet that he’d stolen from the Coerlclaw’s camp. “What’s so special about this, anyway?” He asked as he stopped in the clearing, his arms still up - though one hand now held the sparkling jewellery.

“That’s none of your business.” The apparent leader said, stepping forward to snatch the amulet out of his hand. “What’s it to you anyway? What does it mean to you, that it’s worth killing over?”

“It’s just a payday to me.” Kel answered honestly.

Sneering, the leader tucked the amulet back into a pocket. “Well, thanks. Anything left to say?”

Kel shrugged, then raised a hand a little higher, pointing upward. He snapped his fingers, and naturally, all three couldn’t help but look upward. Just as the flash-bomb went off. Knowing it was coming, Kel shielded his view from the flash - and immediately hit the deck as it went off, since the two remaining bowmen loosed their shots as the flash went off. Kel bit back a pained scream as the impact drove the arrowhead in his shoulder just a little deeper. Scrambling to his feet, he drew a knife from his boot and lunged forward to drive it into the shoulder of the man who had come too close, plunging his free hand into the man’s pocket to retrieve the amulet. He pushed past him and twisted, ripping the knife from his previous victim to hurl it at another one of the archers. With one left, he pushed himself forward and tackled the archer, driving a quick crack across their jaw with an armoured fist. He finally let himself sit up with a frustrated gasp, holding his shoulder as he felt the arrowhead shift, and a pang of pain from his cracked ribs.

“Stars above.” He growled. “You good, Fix?”

“I am functional. Are you?” The mammet chimed cheerfully.

“Enough.” Kel grunted. “Lead me back to the Fenrir. Let’s get out of here and get paid.”

“And seek medical attention.” Fixia reminded.

“Sure.” Kel muttered. “I’ve got a medkit at home.”

[renewablenergon-main]

Analysis of the Bosses' Eyes

@icykalisartblog wrote these after we discussed how to describe the pokemon villains through a single trait in their design. I thought they were really good and they have given me permission to post it on their behalf!

Giovanni's eyes are similar in shape to a Persian's, but are darker and more sunken due to his age. Persian's Dex entries mention that it is somewhat feminine (it is compared to a "proud queen"), that it is lithe yet powerful, fickle and mean, and attacks anyone who looks it in the eye. All of these details apply to Giovanni as well. Giovanni's hiding his eyes with his hat is a sign of how far he has fallen and of his shame.

Archie's irises are sharp and his eyes are usually not fully open. This makes him resemble a predator. Then he has the slashes on his face that make him similar to his signature pokemon, Sharpedo. Concept art that shows Archie looking up shows that only the whits of his eyes become visible, which looks freaky and even more fishlike.

Maxie's eyes are similar to Archie's because they are different characters who fufill the same role in-game. However, his lids are visible, so he looks more like his signature pokemon, Camerupt. The half-lidded eyes also make him appear to be snooty and stoic. His glasses further increase the distance between him and the people around him, and the things extending from his glasses are like little shields that block out everything. When Maxie loses, his glasses almost fall off because he's just recieved a wake-up call, essentially.

Cyrus's eyes are icy cold and usually give off a thousand-yard stare. They are also very large, indicating Cyrus's penchant for observing and crafting his surroundings carefully. They are also sunken, suggesting he has aged prematurely. Cyrus's eye color is more washed-out then Team Galactic's usual color schemes, highlighting how Cyrus doesn't fit with everyone else and his cold personality. Once again, they look similar to Weavile's eyes. Also, one of Weavile's Dex entries states, "They live in cold regions, forming groups of four or five that hunt prey with impressive coordination." Who else formed a group of four (in DP) or five (in Platinum) and tried to hunt a target by carefully manipulating and coordinating a group?

In a twist on the other bosses' eyes, Ghetsis's eye is never half-lidded. He always wants to observe everyone around him, which makes sense. Plus, his eye is usually open a little bit too wide while his eyebrow is tense at the same time, showing how crazed and stressed he is. In addition, Ghetsis's eyes look like semicircles, but it's because the area under his eye is tense all the time. In BW2, Ghetsis gains an eye bag under it, one sign of his degradation. His eye is bright red, which suggests blood, passion, rage, and Satan, and the color stands out from his desaturated green hair. Ghetsis's single eyebrow is also an odd shape, with a spike on the side opposite his tear duct. This indicates that something is dangerous and off about him. His eyepatches have spikes that counterbalance his eyebrow.

Colress's eyes are pointy and look hexagonal, echoing the other hexagons present in his outfits--the symbolism of this shape and how it relates to Colress, I still don't know. Colress never opens his eyes completely in any of his appearences, which makes him look cold, amused, and unaffected by anything going on around him. Also, because his eyelids are down, his irises look rectangular, making him look robotic. His eye color is a slightly greenish yellow, a color that looks very artificical. Colress's eyebrows never change position, suggesting that he either isn't feeling anything at all or is pleased all the time. Colress has glasses that obscure his eyes (in BW2) or are hexagonal and whose lenses are barely visible (USUM). Colress has a tendency to look down with just his eyes without moving the rest of his body, which shows how he's in control of his subjects.

Lysandre's eyes look well-manicured, with little details that look like "wings" made with eyeliner. From what I understand, this look is called cat eyes, which would make sense because he owns a Pyroar and is interested in fashion. However, his eyes are sky blue, which is a big change from his orange, red, and black color scheme. Blue eyes are often considered attractive and rare, which is how many people in-game view Lysandre. It also highlights his soulful, emotional nature. When he is angry, his irises look like they shrink (!) which might show that his caring side is not his true self. His eyes generally have a lot of shine in them, which makes sense because he is the only boss to cry in-game. Blue eyes are also associated with heaven, which works with Lysandre's goals. Also, I can't help but mention the connection between blue eyes, genocide, and eugenics. Lysandre also wears sunglasses that do match his color scheme. Those sunglasses sport a popular design (with the horizontal bars) and show that Lysandre is too far gone by the time he puts them on.

Guzma's eye color is a pale grey that looks very similar to the whites of his eyes, making him look more like a bug. His eyebrows are thick and dark, which indicates that he is young, dangerous, and full of life. The sunglasses he wears before disbanding his team are literally bent out of shape, which is why replacing them shows a change in his character and a distancing from his thuggish bullying of others. There is a break in his new sunglasses, though, which might suggest that he altered his old ones instead of getting a new pair. He has purple eyeshadow on, which both makes him look like a stereotypical thief and causes him to appear older than he actually is. Because he has lines around his eyes in addition to the eyeshadow, it may also be that he uses the make-up to disguise wrinkles due to stress or some health issue, mental or physical. The purple eyeshadow is also reminiscent of a black eye, which hints to his past experiences. 

Lusamine's right eye is always hidden by her hair, meaning she is hiding part of herself. Her eyes are two distinct colors--bright green and gold. The green may indicate jealousy or greed, and might also show the part of her that is attached to her children, or perhaps her desire to protect the habitats of pokemon and preserve life. The yellow could be her connection to Aether. Also, the lines between the two colors show that something about Lusamine isn't integrated properly. The fact that Lusamine's eyelashes are usually hidden helps make her eyes look similar to Lillie's, Gladion's, and Mohn's all at once. Lusamine's eyes are more almond-shaped, both conventionally beautiful and sharp. Her eyes are often hidden by shadows that are cast by her hair, showing that she is dark and menacing.

[chysgoda]

Eye for Eyes

On the steps of faith

Nidhogg was speaking with Estinien’s voice, but she did not listen to the words only the cadence. She knew the words already, she knew them like the taste of her own blood in her mouth and the blinding pain of magic knitting organs back together. She was nothing, her allies were fools or would abandon her. She squandered whatever illm of strength she had fighting for people who did not care for her or hers. She was nothing against the world that would soon crush her and the goddess for whom she stood champion. She no longer listened to the words her enemies spoke to try and take her power from her, but she did listen to the cadence. The pauses and swells that told her how far they had been pushed, how long she might have for her allies to patch her wounds with aether so that she might jump once more into the breach.  

Here on the steps of faith blood and sweat burned in her eyes and she hissed as white magic rebuilt the shattered bone of her hip. She’d pay for this brute force healing later, for now she bore the pain and stood up again.  The aether working in and on her would have been euphoric if she had not been in so much pain. White magic and her own blessing of light healed her hip even as she put wait on it. Her soul stone thrummed against her chest flooding her muscles with the memories of all who held the stone before her. The power of Hraesvelgr’s eye pulsed between her to her lover as they bore the weight of the power together. Through the connection, she could feel Melisande’s heartbeat and hear her inner dragon hiss defiance.  The cadence of Nidhogg’s speech was swelling as he prepared for a final strike. She adjusted her grip on her broadsword and brought her shield back in front of her. Next to her Melisande crouched ready to spring. Behind her was Alphinaud and she prayed he had the good sense to stand back, she could spare him no more thought than that.

“This is not your hand wyrm!” The voice free of Nidhogg’s rancor breathed fresh life into the hope that had been dwindling in her heart before her mind caught up to the implications of the words. Alphinaud raced to stand between her and Melisande. Her friend’s plea for final mercy burned in her soul. She took a breath feeling her lover do the same. As they exhaled their hearts beat in sync. Around her, the world and her thoughts focused into painful clarity.

Thud dub

For those we can yet save

Blood splattered on Estinien’s lips as he dug his fingers into his own throat desperately trying to retain control. He called them to action again, a demand not a plea this time.

Thud dub

For this home that we swore to defend

The three of them moved at the same time. Melisande launching into the air as she and Alphinaud sprinted. Melisande crashed into Estinien’s chest and quickly pushed the haft of her lance back and up against his throat to still the thrashing body not entirely under control of either soul. Art’imis felt the stalwart strength of Paladins past reach through her to lend steadfast strength to her lover that she might hold fast against the brute force pushing against her.

Thud dub

What is ours we keep.

Dragon fire raced down her spine and into the muscles of her legs lending her steps a speed and lightness she’d never had on her own. She outpaced Alphinaud quickly. She dropped shield and sword so that she could wrap the talons of her hellfire gauntlets around the thrice-damned eye and began to pull.

Thud dub

They leaned in together hissing at the wyrm as red rancor gleamed in jagged lines on Estinien’s cheeks. “You can not have him, Thief.” Melisande’s hissed words tasted of caustic dragon fire on Art’imis’ tongue.  Her own growl shook in her lover’s throat like thunder. “You will not take our brother from us.”

Alphinaud caught up and desperately gripped the other eye. They worked their fingers between the eyes and mutated drachenmail as Melisande pushed down harder cutting off air and trying to force Nidhogg’s attention away from the other two. The pure force of Nidhogg’s rancor erupted and burned away the protective leather of gloves and gauntlets to sear the skin and crawl along nerves leaving raw pain in its wake. Estinien said something but she did not have space for it in her mind. Instead, she screamed her defiance and pain back at both him and the wyrm. Her heart stuttered erratically as neither Hraesvelgr’s power nor her blessing of light could curb the invasive force. The muscles in her arms quivered and twitched as she bent her will to removing the damned eye even if Nidhogg’s rage burned her up from the inside out.

A hand on her shoulder brought cool relief. It did not end the pain or push the rancor from her nerves, but it dulled it enough that she could bend her full focus to her task. The eye came lose with a sickening sucking sound. She and Alphinaud stumbled back clutching the eyes. Melisande and Estinien collapsed backward.

Splendid work my dear friends, the warm thought that was not her thought forced her to look up. Her vision was blurry with blood and sweat but she saw Haurchefant and Ysael. She blinked and they were gone.

“Cast the eyes into the Abyss!” Aymeric’s hurried order cut through the growing shock. She ran to the edge of the bridge and threw the eye into the howling aether storm below.  

She staggered back to the small knot of people as the great white wyrm landed. He spoke but the adrenaline was draining out of her and shock was rushing into its place. She had not been so badly pressed since the Ultima Weapon. Hraesvelgr’s words passed by her but it seemed Aymeric was more than capable of wrapping up the farewells. When his attention turned to Melisande and herself she tried to pay attention, but with the danger past all the hurts she had ignored and all the pain she had pushed aside were rushing back. There was something that needed to happen though, something returned or taken back….

“Rest and heal chosen daughters of Hydaelyn.” What passed for a whisper from a dragon pushed past the shock and exhaustion. “When you can reach the Zenith bring back mine eye. Until then it can wait.”

She nodded and let herself drop to tired and hurt to sit properly. She stared after the dragon until Y’Stola and Antoirel found her.

[eyesofsteelandsky]

FFxivWrite2018 Prompt 22: Novice

Another guest star role by Tempest Lion! Please go have a look back at Prompt 11 if you want a short description of her and a picture! There’s violence against a bird.

The blue haired keeper picks her short sword back up off the ground, having just dropped it trying to do the ‘spin your blade in your hand’ move that she thought looked so cool when other people did it. Thankfully, the only one around to see it was her target and clearly wasn’t going to be allowed to live to talk about it. An almost mocking wark came from her foe as the fat dodo turn it’s attention away from the girl and back to the pumpkins it was currently pecking into.

“Cease, thief! Your fence ruining, punkin’ munchin’ days are over!” With as many clanks from her bronze armor as possible to join that announcement, the tiny adventurer came charging forward with a battlecry, turning what could have been a simple execution of a wild animal menace into an actual fight. Now that it was threatened, the dodo that was several times her size and weight reated around, dodging her first haphazard thrust and delivering several hard pecks onto the soup-bowl like helm she was wearing. By the time she’s got her shield up for cover her ears are already ringing, distracting her from the very exposed dodo belly in front of her. Thinking back to lessons she’d been given about fighting people and not birds, she takes a swipe at the hardened stretch of foot in front of her, cracking it slightly in a couple of spots and making the bird wark out again.

“I have you now! Prepare to meet your maker!” Throwing her weight behind the move, the little miqo’te shield bashes the bird directly into it’s chest, following up on her brief distraction with what amounts to mostly a strike to further rile the thing up. She’s rewarded with a body check from the creature that sends her tumbling head over heels backwards through the dirt. She’d caught a rock briefly along the way and had a nice cut on her lip that she lapped the blood from as she stared angrily up at the bird. Another shouty cry rips from her lips as she charges back in, and with a faint glow to her swinging arm she drives through a trio of mildly aetheric slashes at that rounded belly. Her sword is too short to cut much past fat on that first volley, but the dodo is still reeling from the blow as she recollects herself.

Raising her sword up above her head as if she was trying to collect the motes of that spent aether for a finishing blow, her bronze blade barely more that shimmers in the sun light before she rears back and thrusts into one of the cross points of her prior cuts, getting nearly up to her elbow in the wound to drive in to properly vital organs. With one last squawk of defeat, the dodo’s weight sags under it’s impending collapse. Pulling her arm from the corpse takes a foot pressed up against the belly, but eventually she stands sweaty and triumphant over her kill, already plotting what she was going to do with the gil from her leve plate once she finished up.

[ihititwithmyaxe]

Control Mirror

Just played Standard Mono Blue vs Esper Approach, and an hour and fifteen minutes later I am victorious, 2-0. Out-playing a skilled opponent over 30-turn games to gain little bits of advantage (with the occasional counterspell war with 7 objects on the stack) to finally win is somehow so much more satisfying than just outracing an aggro opponent with another aggro deck. My opponent and I both had a blast, and they were entirely courteous and sporting. Games like that are why I love Magic. My list below:

4 Torrential Gearhulk 3 Search for Azcanta 4 Censor 4 Disallow 4 Essence Scatter 4 Negate 4 Glimmer of Genius 2 Hieroglyphic Illumination 4 Opt 3 Perilous Voyage

4 Desert of the Mindful 4 Irrigated Farmland 4 Fetid Pools 2 Hostile Desert 10 Island SB: 3 Dynavolt Tower 3 Kefnet, the Mindful 2 Nimble Obstructionist 2 Shielded Aether Thief 3 Aether Meltdown 2 River’s Rebuke