#they pose after battles to avoid taking away from the combat itself

[parmysan]

Frieza has the Ginyu Force, Cooler has his armored squadron, who does King Cold have?

Introducing the King’s Entourage, a group of three lieutenants and their captain who protect King Cold, and eventually start doing actual heroic deeds after he kicks the bucket.

Kona (yes that Kona, changed her story.) and Fry are both earthlings, Fry being a former time patroller who got swept up in this by accident but got too attached to this timeline to leave it.

Stover is the same species as Burter, very different in personality though, considering his preference towards slowness, and carefully calculating the best possible course of action before just doing things.

Baker is the same species as Gure, and claims to be a speedster when in reality he can just teleport. Man is running on 6 cups of coffee and a muffin at all times. But he is a sweet lad.

[fanfictrashdump]

Queening a Pawn, 22

If you’re new: this is my procrastination fic. It is what I drabble around with when I’m being my worst self, and ignoring all my other WIPs and responsibilities! Enjoy!

X

Summary: During the Time Heist, Loki stole the Tesseract and escaped. He did not expect, however, to be pulled through a Time Loop that delivered him to a Midgard more than a decade older, wiser, and bitterer. Having just lived through his unsuccessful attack in New York, Loki must learn to live in Midgard after the defeat of Thanos (post-Endgame). The question is, who is Loki without a quest for a throne or total domination?

Pairings: Loki x OC

WARNINGS: Language, fighting, swords, impending doom, nervous throwing up, and entirely fictional traditions that are just... so dumb.

=

It was the clinking noise of metal on metal that caught her attention first. The situation pretty much snowballed from there, but the noise was the first indication.

Delilah had been busy staring at her computer. She was finishing her fiscal year end reports, much to her utter dismay. The only glittering spot in her day had been the unusual side effect from Loki and hers exchange of jewelry. Throughout the day, Delilah would get sucked in by the pleasant buzz in the back of her skull when Loki had a particularly strong emotion. The god could make all of the excuses he wanted about how he felt nonchalant about the children, but the utter fondness that flooded her system most of her work day was the only indication that he was a big fat liar. She had been in the midst of a most pleasant flood of endorphin-filled fondness when the noise pulled her out of her head. Her name in a shout followed immediately after.

"Delilah Vázquez!"

When Delilah glanced up from the copier, she was greeted by the sight of Brunnhilde, in her full Asgardian royal armor and Uru crown. In her hand, she wielded a broadsword, though Dragonfang was sheathed on her hip. The tip of the sword swayed ominously towards her, the warrioress staring her down with intimidating focus. Delilah didn't exactly noticed when she started running, but she was damn sure she was not going to stop.

"DELILAH!"

Pumping her arms, she continued running down the corridor a good thirty paces ahead of Valkyrie. She hated admitting it, but the occasional workout Loki made her do with him was probably the only reason she wasn't a panting, sweaty mess being skewered on the end of a broadsword right now. Lilah knew that she needed to get to the common room. Sam and Bucky had returned from another mission two days ago, so they were probably taking it easy for the next few days. If she could find them–clunk clunk

The heavy footsteps were gaining on her as she skidded into the living room. Bucky jumped, startled out of his nap by the ruckus. He noted only the blurred outline of Delilah running past and ducking behind his chair, but when he finally saw Valkyrie, he took up a defensive pose.

"Out of my way Barnes!" Valkyrie grumbled through clenched teeth. "I came a long way for this, this armor is killing me. Move!"

"Are you out of your damn mind!?"

"Now, Barnes!" When he remained rooted to the spot, she half-heartedly swung the sword in his direction. He parried the blow with his modified arm, engaging her into close combat while Delilah slipped away in the background.

Her escape was not unseen, though Bucky did his best to keep the Asgardian King at bay before he was knocked through several doors with a well-placed kick of her armored boot.

Delilah backed into one of the empty storage rooms. She clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound of her labored breathing. Maybe if she was quiet enough, and kept to the walls, the Valkyrie would think she had run out the emergency staircase. Her hope was short lived, however, the door to the storage room was kicked open with a boom. Quiet as could be, Lilah lowered herself between two empty rows of metal shelves and closed her eyes tightly. And for a moment, her plan was working.

"There you are!"

Emerald eyes snapped open to see the figure of Valkyrie backlit by the harsh, white light of the storage room bulbs. Trembling, Delilah began crawling backwards, mentally calculating her probabilities of making it out before Brunnhilde caught up to her.

A clatter made her start. At her feet, Valkyries sword, Dragonfang, shook and settled while it emitted a harmonious hum. Delilah looked from the sword to the King for a mite too long, it seemed. "Pick it up! Full armor chafes!"

"I-I don't know how–"

"Pick it up and fight me! My laws demand it for satisfaction!" With tentative movements, she grasped the pommel and closed her hand around the grip. "Oh, Norns your grip is fucking awful. Who taught you to swordfight?"

"No one! I don't know how!" Delilah snapped back, lifting the point of the sword off the ground. Her free hand went up to the runic medallions resting on her collarbone. For a protective talisman, they weren't doing a hell of a lot in the way of protecting.

Valkyrie rolled her eyes and raised her own weapon. "You and I will have short battle for the purpose of satisfying our ancient laws in regards to trysts with members of the Royal Family. Do you understand what is required of you? Yes? Great, let's begin."

Before Delilah could even protest that this wasn't being fair to her, Valkyrie had swept her weapon straight down, meeting Dragonfang in her grasp and making her arm shudder all the way to her marrow. With a yelp, Delilah jumped back, trying as hard as she could to avoid the Asgardian's blows. She had successfully pushed the King back and made a short run for it before Valkyrie leapt and landed just short of blocking her path.

The thought that she was going to die crossed Delilah's brain at that instant. As sudden as that realization was to hit her, so was the wispy green smoke to surround her body in a nearly solid mass. It quickly swirled around her before disappearing to a place she thought was in her chest, if the sudden pain was any indication. Valkyrie's eyes darkened, and charged for Delilah, sword raised. Delilah crossed her own weapon in front of her and her free hand braced itself for the incoming attack in front of her.

Just as the blow was to connect, the pain in Lilah's chest exploded outward through her arm. Her open palm, facing Valkyrie and waiting for impact, spewed a dense ball of that same wispy, green smoke that knocked Brunnhilde off her feet. She flew several yards back and landed with a loud thunk on the concrete floor.

"What the fuck is going on!?"

Loki's booming voice was so welcome that Delilah thought she might sob. Actually, she did, because Loki was by her side and wiping her tears away with his thumbs a moment later. He wrapped an arm around her, trying to soothe the violent trembling that was making her teeth knock together painfully. He pried her fingers off the grip of Valkyries sword and reassured her in soft murmurs that she was OK and that she was in no danger.

"I yield. Oh, Frigga in Valhalla, dearest. I yield," Valkyrie gasped, pulling herself back onto her feet.

"What the fuck is going on, Valkyrie?" He repeated, though his voice was low and sounded poisonous.

Brunnhilde pulled a face, rolling her eyes. "What do you mean, what the fuck is going on? You know our laws, Loki. She is not a member of the court and since you've endeavored to make it quite clear that you are both alive and in love with her, she needs to ascend."

Loki stared blankly at the King for a few minutes, no noise being made among the three, before he drew an extraordinarily long breath. "I know that. She does not."

"So?"

His response was perfectly enunciated, each syllable dripping vitriol unlike any Delilah had ever heard. "She thought you were attempting to kill her, you empty-headed troll." His arm gripped Lilah tightly and pressed her securely into his side. She was still trembling, though she had stopped crying. He assumed that the shock was just settling in. They needed to be careful before–

Splat.

"Oops?" Valkyrie looked contrite, especially considering that Delilah was now hunched over, emptying her stomach of any and all contents in the space that existed between the three. "You would think a civilized society would at least teach all of their members to fight properly! She was acting as if it was her first time battling with swords."

"It was… You've been living in Midgard for a long time. How did you not notice they don't swordfight anymore?" With a scoff, he handed a surly Valkyrie back her sword, which she promptly sheathed at her hip.

"Can I at least finish so I can take this ridiculous court armor off?" Loki's eyes cut across with a darkened glare. "She's already doubled over!" He nodded reluctantly and allowed Valkyrie to touch the top of Delilah's head with the flat of her blade. The Midgardian gasped and tensed again and would have continued to be sick were it not for Loki's hand smoothing down her back. "After brave battle, you have earned your place in court. Blah blah blah. I guess you can continue seeing Loki, though the Norns only know why you would choose to do so." Brunnhilde bent over and caught Delilah's eyes, dulled by fear and exhaustion. "Could you do the fist thing really quick?"

With a delirious laugh, Delilah thumped her closed fist over her heart, nearly sobbing when the Asgardian put her arm around her and helped her straighten. "Could you have not sent a message ahead or literally anything before chasing me down wiTH A DAMN SWORD, VALKYRIE!?"

Valkyrie shrugged. "I really did think you guys had better battle training than this. Sorry." The group stepped over Delilah's mess and took back to the corridors. Bucky had been patrolling like a mad man in search for Valkyrie before Loki had told him that he was on it. As they moved past him, Lilah offered him a thumb's up and a thank you. "Did you make her that seidr pendant, Snakeboy?"

Loki helped Delilah sink into one of the chairs in her living quarters, anxiously brushing her hair out of her eyes. "Yes. Did it hurt?"

"Like you wouldn't believe!"

"Good," he replied, deadpan, and Delilah could tell he really meant it. Shortly, he placed a bottle of Gatorade in front of her and kissed her crown. "Drink. You need it." His fingers loosened the chain around her neck and closed it in his fist. "I will bring this right back. Evidently, I need to add a warning for idiot Asgardians on it," he offered before blipping out of existence in her flat.

Valkyrie had pulled off all the heavy, metal armor off her body and sighed with satisfaction. "Did you really think I wanted to kill you?"

"Yes! You only yelled my name and that you demanded satisfaction. I had no clue what was going on."

"I guess not the best warning, I'll admit, but I'd never hurt you. You're the only one in this hell hole I can stand." The Valkyrie nudged Delilah in the ribs until she let out a laugh. When Loki returned, they were sitting on the couch, one arm around each other's waist, giggling. He wasted no time in reattaching the necklace with an adoring smile.

"Since when do you care about tradition and protocols?" Loki asked, offhandedly, sitting on the coffee table opposite Delilah with her free hand in his.

Brunnhilde rolled her eyes. "Since several ladies took offense that they were not informed of the fact that you were alive and demanded tradition be upheld. They're desperate to rise the ranks and go back to being courtesans."

"It's no secret I've never been the preferred prince. So, why bother?"

The warrior sighed. "Because even power and title from the dark prince is still power and title. They'll do anything to grab their share. Now, they can't."

"I'm not in line to serve, though. And it'll be a cold day in hell before I willingly go to New Asgard to live, so it's a moot point." He ran him thumb over the back of Delilah's hand. "Not to mention, I wouldn't take them. Can't exactly marry me by force."

"They'd try," Delilah and Valkyrie replied in unison.

"From what I've read, they've downgraded from a futuristic paradise to a cold strip of land by the sea. It's hard to forget thousands of years worth of privilege. Especially if you've lived the thousands of years." Delilah shrugged. "I don't blame them."

"I'm spoken for," he argued, his lips twitching just the barest bit upwards.

"Well, now you are. You're welcome, by the way," Brunnhilde grumbled, stretching out with a sigh before hopping to her feet. "I have duties to attend to, so I will see you later. My Prince. Princess."

Delilah frowned, watching Valkyrie toss her armor over her shoulder and close the door behind her with a slam. "Princess? There's a new nickname. Can't say it's my favorite."

Loki grinned widely, resting his head on his free hand, propped on his thigh. "You've got no clue what you did today, do you?"

"I don't exactly study Asgardian history in my free time, Lo." There was a long pause before she tacked on, "Why?"

"The challenge you fought was for position in the court as a member of equal measure to the Royal Family."

"I don't follow."

His eyes glittered in mirth. "I'm not surprised. It will make sense soon enough." He leaned forward and kissed her lightly. "Nonetheless, you will always be my Queen in all that matters, Princess. Though getting rid of the Valkyrie would be an easy enough task, should you desire to ascend."

With another kiss, he mentioned something about going to get her some more Gatorade. The words sunk slowly into Delilah's adrenaline-drowned brain. "Wait, are you telling me she just made me a Princess? Like an honest to god, I could have my own Disney movie, Princess? Loki?!"

[anangelicday-mrwolf]

Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 52 – How Come You Did Nothing?!

“We’re here.”

As a werewolf’s resolute howl was resonating in a deserted isle across the sea, Yuhyung’s eyes incandesced even before Rael’s words were met with a period.

He had kept his eyes open, unlike his previous trips upon Rael’s back.

With that moment just about few steps away from him, his heart did not allow his eyes to close.

“...Now what should I do?”

“Hide, of course. I...”

That was when concern smeared over Rael’s face as he looked around, and Yuhyung could imagine why.

The zone they had sought now remained completely desolate, following the visit from Lunark, Zarga, Urokai, and the 8th Elder.

Nobody would believe that this place once used to be as thick as Amazon rainforest with skyscrapers, just like any other spot in Seoul.

Being a deserted, uncluttered space, it appeared no different from the surface of the moon.

In other words, there was no place at all for Yuhyung to take refuge, except for one thing: a body of concrete that surely would have constituted a wall or a pillar of a building, stranded out in the open for some reason.

“I can stay behind this thing if you could raise it for me.”

Rael fell into awkward silence at the human’s suggestion.

Knowing that nobles can completely powder a telephone pole with a punch, Rael could tell that this chunk of concrete would be as good as nothing.

Nonetheless, he decided that it would be better than nothing. And Yuhyung had foreseen that Rael would decide so.

“One moment, please.”

Rael erected the pile, much bigger than his entire physique, with a single hand.

Behind him, Yuhyung rolled his eyes to watch whether Rael spies what is beneath his shoes.

And he was contented at the fact that Rael never once shifted his attention from the artificial rock.

In truth, this piece of concrete did not belong there; it was stationed after KSA’s cleanup of the war zone.

Its purpose was to serve as a cairn and a veil that signs and hides the equipment he entrusted Helga’s teammate with.

It worked in his favor that it happened to be Rael who accompanied him; had he been with anybody from KSA or RK, he would have faced accusation right away.

‘And now, I’ll have to distract him. But damn, what’s taking him so long?’

Yuhyung scanned his perimeter, scowling as inconspicuously as possible.

“...Here he comes.”

Yuhyung inwardly questioned whom Rael is talking about, before he reminded himself of the man both of them were expecting and made an inaudible “ah” with his lips.

With the sound of an object slicing through the air, something quite bulky stomped the earth.

“Oh, dear. That trip was meant to be elusive.”

Rael had not seen him for a while, but his smile was not at all like what was in his memories.

The noble was grinning in a cautious manner, not much discrepancy for them to see from his usual servile, overtly polite semblance.

However, Rael could see through what lay underneath: animosity, jealousy, and hostility towards him.

“Were you waiting for me? Or does this mean...”

Deneb eyed the human standing behind Rael.

Yuhyung, being truthful to his performance until the last moment, sluggishly moved for shelter behind Rael’s black robe.

“Well, not that it matters. I was bound to be caught as soon as I hit this country.”

“...So, are you actually planning on fighting me, Deneb Illiness?”

“Fight you? No, sir. I’m not here to fight you. I’m here to eliminate you.”

“...You know that making an enemy out of your own kind with no appropriate reason is an act of rejection of the lord’s laws, established by our ancestors and rooted deeply upon our motherland. You don’t have to be a head of a clan to be aware of this must-know rule. Not to mention attempt of disconnecting my path for good at this point is equal to sabotaging the QuadraNet project. Am I going too far to say that you have no interest or loyalty for the said project?”

“No, sir. I’m more than well-aware of the meaning of my actions. Of course I do. However, there is this golden teaching that applies to every era and race: dead men tell no tales.”

He must be out of his mind, thought Rael.

Even with the question of possession of soul weapon put aside, those from non-octaclans are inferior to those from octaclans in terms of combat competence.

Rael could bet Deneb would not even last a minute against Regis – the weakest of current heads of octaclans due to his age – or Seira – defined the weakest of heads of octaclans before Regis’s official appointment – even if they are to bench either one of their hands.

‘Looks like his obsession with Seira and jealousy against me have fatally clouded his judgment.’

On the other hand, Rael could not ignore the tug at his chest, for he flaunts a history of troubles he brewed out of his obsessional affection for Seira.

The prickly sensation in his heart was replaced with frigid heat.

As regrettable as it was that he was to exercise his power against his own kind at a time like this, when unity is the key, what Deneb was carrying out was a violation of the laws of noblekind.

Something that Rael, as the head of a Lukedonian clan, must not oversee.

Rael in turn handed something to Yuhyung.

“Here – I’ll need maximum concentration to wrap this up as quickly as possible. So I must ask you to please tend to any communication we may receive.”

What Rael offered to Yuhyung was an in-ear communicator he saved from Tao just in case he needs assistance from the RK, which he had picked up upon his visit to Korea as the Lukedonian ambassador.

However, his intention was to make this battle quick, one-time, and unnoticed, which means he will be unable to reply to any message from KSA or RK, if they are to ask where he and Yuhyung are.

Although he was not sure if it would be possible for him to finish a battle against a noble unnoticed, he was determined to do his best.

And that was when with a swish something flew towards Deneb in an arc that was barely visible.

Deneb snatched the object and rotated his hand, and Rael’s countenance grew as cold as ice upon recognizing that he was holding the communicator he just yielded.

“I can see that you have changed for sure. Before I wouldn’t have even imagined you’d be carrying human inventions.”

With a piece of bicker and a noise of something crashing, the communicator was shattered to dozen bits.

“What did you just...?!”

Rael shifted his off-balanced gaze towards the one who caused such rapid turnout; he paid no attention and strode as if he were out on a walk, towards Deneb.

Rael’s cognition blacked out for a second at the flow of events that was improbable and expected to be impossible.

“...What is the meaning of this?”

“...Isn’t it obvious?”

“No, it’s not! You said Deneb Illiness forced you to...”

“Yes, at first it was forced. So he did not tell you that what was forced was later coined into an agreement.”

Agreement? What agreement?

“He asked for protection during what he is about to unfold here. And part of my plan was to one day take you out if I must, so I deemed an extension of our relation necessary.”

As Rael was petrified at the revelation he could not and did not want to believe, Yuhyung was digging the spot where the concrete used to be.

As he was quietly stabbing the earth like a dog scavenging for a bone, Rael shouted out to him, “How could you?! Do you have any idea what meaning your actions hold?! He has forsaken the laws of Lukedonia! If you are to take his side...”

“It can be understood as rebellion against the QuadraNet project and Lukedonia and KSA, as well as rebellion against the alliance of Lukedonia, KSA, and wolfkind. Yes, I know. That’s exactly what I have in mind.”

His mouth open halfway, Rael posed shaky, distraught eyes at how Yuhyung’s speech became aggressive, his eyes vindictive, good enough to bewilder him.

‘Is this what he is really like?’

But why?

Rael’s last words failed to keep themselves tucked behind his lips, and in response Yuhyung straightened up and shoved his filthy hands into his collar, to bring out a bunch of silver chain necklaces with thin metal plates attached.

“This is what is left of my colleagues who were sacrificed back then. Yes, I’m talking about the incident that turned this place into a graveyard with no tombstones.”

Yuhyung snapped, having read what Rael’s eyes were asking.

“Am I doing this for vengeance? Yes, that’s the initial purpose. But what I am aiming for is to pioneer the power for vengeance. Had things worked out as originally outlined, I would have ended up with enough data at KSA, to build a bridge that will lead us to the power that can put us on par with your kind and werewolves. Though we would have needed a lot of time to as well.”

“...What are you talking about? Are you saying you consider nobles AND werewolves the subject of your vengeance? But... It’s true that nobles and a werewolf were affiliated in that incident, but...”

“The Union is to truly blame. Yes, it was Union that commanded the incident. But don’t you dare tell yourself that nobles and werewolves can avoid the blame.”

Yuhyung spat out through grinding teeth, back to his job of unearthing something.

“I know how elevated were the seats that Union once used to occupy on a global scale. Even with science and technology omitted from discussion, there is no field or area on this planet that is free from Union’s monstrous spider web. Which was why we couldn’t even dream of officially complaining to them of the destruction they wrought in this country.”

In the meantime, something finally came to reveal itself under his hands.

“But where were you while the Union had been cultivating its power all this time?”

Rael’s entire body froze, as he was trying to peek at the object about to show itself.

“I once heard from this Tao guy the origin of the term noblesse oblige. But if your lot valued nobleness and the balance of the world so much, how come you never stood out whenever Union butchered and thrashed about in this world? Huh?! I was powerless... We were powerless. Too powerless to protect our beloved. But you do have power. So how come you never stopped them?! How come you did nothing?!”

Yuhyung’s voice freed from its rein mercilessly speared Rael’s ears, to puncture his heart.

Rael could think of several counters, but for some reason he could not vocalize any of them.

“But now things will change. Now we will have the power to protect. But since we can never reach there if we stick to the humane method as we have... This is the only way.”

Yuhyung lowered his body, and his hands drew out a sort of a device.

As unfamiliar as he was with human technology, Rael could not ascertain what exactly was the purpose of the device.

If any of the ex-Union RK were there, he would have learned that the device was designed to launch something.

Without sparing a second for Rael to enlarge his eyes, Yuhyung stuck inside the device something that was safekept along with it.

“Now... All humans within KSA will get the powers we need.”

Leaving a smirk, Yuhyung violently jabbed the button that was bulging out from the device.

(next chapter)

At last Yuhyung has revealed what he was planning all this time. As you can see, his goal is to have his vengeance, but not simply on Union - he seeks vengeance upon wolfkind and noblekind alike.

As I was composing this chapter, I realized that it's been a year since I've been writing this fic (well, not exactly a year; the very first chapter was uploaded on 28th of April, 2020). The finale of this fic draws near, so I shall do my best for the remaining chapters as well. :)

[friendlyneighborhoodborg]

Julerose July 2019 | Day 11 Prompt: “Change”

The Monster and the Knight

(I know, I know, I’m a million days late on this.  This is for @julerosejuly2019‘s event)

Also, I’ve seen, like, three people following only a bare few of these prompts.  I’m sad and wish I could have done more for this event.

All I’ve got is a short one-shot in my Background Superheroes AU, in which pretty much all the background characters are secret vigilantes.  I’ve decided to change Rose’s origin story just a little.  This one also isn’t as action-heavy as the other one, which is good for me because I did not really like how that turned out.  And let me know how I did, I always want to improve.

Everything you need to know is under the cut.  Enjoy!

[Link to Prompt List]

<><><><><><><><>

Ever since she was young, Rose had a secret.  While in the daytime, she appeared to everyone as a normal girl, by night she was drafted by a hidden group.  They pledged a sacred, secret mission of chivalry and righteousness: to rid the world of the unhuman menace.  Monsters who were a bloodthirsty threat to the safety and sanctity of the world at large—this group, the Shadow Guard, protects the people from these dangers.  Rose was in training all her early childhood, becoming very adept at fighting, but never finding the will to take the life of anything. She quit the Guard quite suddenly, following an incident with werewolves in which she had several moral realizations about the company she kept.  She took up her own sword, independent of this guild, to become a protector of everyone, human and otherwise.  She is the Heart Knight.

<><><><><><><><>

           The wolf monster lunged.  Rose was officially cornered - only a wooden stick for defense, no more tricks, nowhere to hide, and nothing to do except run.  She dove and rolled to the side to avoid the pounce, but the creature expected exactly that.  It landed on its hind legs and rebounded, throwing itself at its prey, snatching her in the next second.  Both hit the ground, the wolf pinning Rose down with all its weight.

           Rose panted from the adrenaline.

           The wolf snarled.

           Rose yelped, throwing up her only weapon, which shocked the beast when it bonked her on the nose.

           Both creature and victim paused awkwardly at the purely accidental and rather ineffective strike.

           And Rose broke the silence by breaking into laughter.  “You win! Alright!  I give!”

           The werewolf gave a sly grin, and it changed back into Juleka.  She helped Rose up.  “Hope I didn’t scare you too bad?”

           “Not at all.  Hope your nose is okay?”

           “Barely felt it.”  Juleka rubbed her nose.  “I was more embarrassed for you.”

           Rose gave her a light slug on the arm as a counter to that verbal jab, and then gave her a kiss in the same place as an apology. Juleka tilted her chin and nuzzled the top of her head affectionately in return.

           It was times like this when Rose wondered what she had done to deserve her.  She was convinced she didn’t, what with how she had been trained since childhood to hunt down people like Juleka.  People who were different, not normal humans, or like Juleka, outright monsters. Thankfully, that had all changed about a year ago, but the memories of everything she’d been taught were scars in here optimistic ideology, places that had been stitched over with new, brighter patches of love and harmony.

           There was a good reason Rose didn’t like to remember her former extracurricular.  It was people who believed that which had prompted her to take up the sword for justice.  Because thinking like that denied a voice for the victims.  Juleka had been bitten by a werewolf, and if she ever was fated to become a ravenous creature of uncontrollable bloodlust (as per what she was told), Rose had long stopped waiting for that shoe to drop.

           (Well, that wasn’t entirely true.  The goth did have her moments, particularly around the full moon or in the heat of battle. Rose’s astonishing patience with her knew no bounds.)

           Rose tossed her girlfriend-slash-superhero partner a bottle.  “Hydrate.”

           “Thanks.”  Juleka opened it up.  “You almost had me a couple times.”

           “Well, shucks,” Rose giggled.  “I can’t make our sparring matches too easy for you, can I?”

           “You weren’t even trying,” Juleka corrected, which caught Rose by surprise.  “You know, these sparring matches are supposed to help improve your fight as well as mine.”  The girl in pink raised her voice to object, to which Juleka held up a hand to silence her.  “And don’t try and say it was for my sake.  At least when you try to boost my esteem, you give me an actual fight.  No, something’s bothering you.”

           Rose didn’t need to ask for clarification, nor did she attempt to feign ignorance.  When the two of them became heroes, and especially when they started sparring, they payed attention to the way the other one fought.  After all, nothing joins two people together quite like sharing the battlefield, and after a year of it they rarely even needed to talk during combat.  The slightest motion, and they’d instantly know what moves the other would try—that was the way they communicated on the field.  Watch, listen, and play off each other.  They didn’t fight like two partners anymore—they were one fighter with two bodies.

           Because of this, any change in the other’s fighting style would give away everything.

           “I’m just thinking…”  Rose hunched her shoulders and crossed her arms nervously. “Do you think… there’s more like us?”

           Juleka took a swig from her bottle.  “More specific?  Noble knights or werewolves?  Freaks who fight evil?  Female couples?”

           “Teen superheroes?”  She sighed, looking up at the sky.  This field was very good for their training, because no one ever came down here. All the entrances to the grotto were hidden, so they could practice their skills in secrecy.  It also meant there would be nothing to disrupt their talk, and Rose had to just accept that and get talking.  “Because all the superheroes I’ve heard of are adults.  The only kid vigilantes are in comic books.”

           “What about Ladybug?”

           “She’s like, 3000 years old, right?”

           “You don’t seriously buy those conspiracy theories, do you?”  Juleka tossed Rose the water back.  “But why are you bothered?”

           “Well… I mean… it could happen.  It happened with us.  But the way it happened with us, we had to go through a lot of changes.”

           “Some good,” Juleka interrupted.  She coughed, glancing down.  “I hope?  Good?”

           Rose eased, taking her hand and placing a kiss to the back of it.  “Yes, of course.  Many good things.  But not all good things.”  She dropped Juleka’s hand.  “The increased danger.  The responsibility of looking out for anything in our power, and the stress that brings. The injuries you’ve had thrown at you—”

           “I can take it.  Accelerated healing.”

           “But still, it hurts you, and you’re not immune. And… the big one…”

           Juleka echoed her.  “The big change… my curse.”

           “In the first few weeks, you said that… it wasn’t fair.  That you had been turned into a monster.”  Rose pushed forward on this, despite Juleka’s attempts at reassurance.  “I remember you screaming in pain, so don’t act like it didn’t hurt you.”

           “But becoming your partner didn’t hurt me.  Not really.”  She crossed her own arms, mirroring Rose’s worried, hunched pose with added assertion.  “I got hurt on the way.  But I’ve never once regretted sticking by your side.”  When Rose tried to argue this time, Juleka caught her chin in her fingers and tilted her vision up to look her in the eyes.  “I know you’re not going to stop, you’re too kindhearted.  If I can do anything to keep you from getting too seriously hurt, doing what it is you do, then I will.”

           “But what if you get hurt?” Rose persisted, breaking contact.  “If I fail… and if you…”

           Juleka hugged her.  “I won’t go down that easily,” she murmured.  “Not when I have someone to live for.”

           Rose knew Juleka didn’t need to see her quiet tears. She slowly brought her hands up to Juleka’s back and matched her own breathing to hers.

           Juleka didn’t need to see her face to know what it looked like.  She just slowly began rubbing Rose’s back, squeezing her slightly for reassurance.

           “We’re messed up.”  Rose sniffed.  “I hope there’s no one like us.  I hope no one has to go through what we do.”

           “But if there is,” Juleka added, “and if they’re anything like us, then we can’t stop them.  We won’t be able to.”

           “True.  Then… I guess we just have roll with the changes.”

           “Roll with the changes.”  By the time Juleka let go of the embrace, Rose’s eyes were dry. “Feeling better, angel?”

           “Yeah… Alright, you want a real fight?”  Rose picked up the stick and swung it around, swiping it through the air like a rapier.  She gave her partner a smug smile.  “I’ll give you one.”

           Juleka bared her teeth and changed.

<><><><><><><><>

Juleka was a normal girl, and had been so most of her life, until she was assaulted by a werewolf and accosted by a hunter- a trainee of the Shadow Guard, and her own best friend, Rose.  Rose helped her escape, hiding her from all other hunters as she tried to gain control of her lupine curse.  She, in turn, helped Rose to leave the organization, and pursue her own path of justice to right the wrongs of the Guard.  She now fights at her Knight’s side, protecting her on the battlefield as Eventide.

<><><><><><><><>

[curupiracue]

The Beginning

“...we’re going to use the fact he is around to our advantage.”

“By looking through the eyes of others using the Mental World?”

“No. Sure, that’d be the easy way to get a look at his face… but he’d notice. We’ll be quietly observing his Mental World from the outside, and feeling his power. Thus, should a battle come...”

“Got it… Say, Nim, why don’t we attack him right now?”

“We certainly could, but… gathering info and then launching a surprise attack seems like a better plan. We don’t know his constructions: sure, one of them is an utility type without any offensive capabilities, made for erasing his tracks… but what if he has combat types as well? We’d better wait it out.”

“What if he attacks us first?”

“Well… we won’t be caught completely off-guard, thanks to my construction...”

...Oh dear.

It seems that I, Ienorb Yenruoj, have been detected. I guess even with the help of one of my constructions, my inexperience has been the fall of me… or perhaps they have an utility of their own to counter mine? That man mentioned his construction as a means of warning for incoming attacks… depending on how broad it’s applications are, it could also be used to warn him of potential stalkers… but, I mustn’t theorize too much.

I grab my things and walk away, keeping a close watch on their Mental Worlds, but though they became alerted, they didn’t move after me.

Still… speaking about this in the open, even in an alley, seems a bit suspicious. All I had to do was to transmit what a nearby black bird was hearing to my ear, and done. Could it be that they’re attempting to trick me?

(Time… Uh… Un-passes? I ‘unno man...)

“So, about the plan.”

“Yes?”

“Basically… we’re going to fake having an interest in him following us so that we can gather info, when in reality, since kore wa muri desu, we’re actually going to be counting on him being around listening through some means”

...For a simple plan, this is so needlessly convoluted that only Nim’s “Look at what I can do!” mind could possibly generate it.·

“Ok… And I’ll assume that there is a reason beyond you just hating her for us to not ask Wims to keep a crow around us to watch.” I thought he might get angry, but he was surprisingly calm in his answer

“There is indeed. Since that bitch is probably going to kill him on sight. I mean, stopping the serial killer is all well and good, but I’m not here to help people! I wanna’ conduct my interview!”

Kill him on sight? Wouldn’t she want to make news out of this? ...No, but then again, she has standards. Hearing that there was serial killer living in your midst without you ever even knowing there was one, let alone who, and that many members of your family have actually died already, you just can’t remember them… I wouldn’t mind it much, but I’m not everyone.

“I see… I guess it’s guaranteed that he will be listening...” We went to all sort of places where he wouldn’t be able to follow, but Nim apparently felt him around even during those circumstances. If he is tailing us, then he must have some means to do so, otherwise, why bother? Besides, we lose nothing if this part fails. On the other hand… “But what if he listens and gets the wrong idea?”

“? So what? If he fights us, we lose nothing. And if he decides to continue tailing, we can fight him right then and there. It’s a draw-win. Worst case scenario, he continues tailing us but is more careful and vigilant. That would be bad. But this is the guy that makes sure to completely erase someone’s records, so I’m guessing he likes to play safe a bit. Besides this plan is too insane. I bet he will think: “Nah, this is way too crazy to be their plan”.”

(Resuming the present...)

...No, this is much too mad to be their plan. What if I didn’t eavesdrop? What if I decided to attack them while they lacked information? I did well in running away… Though I do need to think of my next ste-

“(Yo~)”

!? A psychic attack? But it’s not theirs! This incredible power… It surpasses them both! I-I’ll have to enter the Mental World and defend myself! I’ll have to… I’ll have to but…

But my body will go limp…! And I can’t waste any time at all! Because if those two see that I’m fighting someone, specially of this caliber, they will join the fight, and then I’m doomed, even if they do so after it has ended! So I need to resolve this fight before I cross the event horizon equilibrium, before it becomes impossible to avoid falling into the ground! If not, the precious seconds I’ll have to waste getting up will be my certain demise!

Alright… Breathe… I, Ienorb Yenruoj should have approximately half a second before this occurs. I’ll surpass this obstacle! I can do it!

(Going to the nowhere of importance. Wait patiently, if you will?)

Thankfully, I can keep my identity a secret here thanks to my construction, Fog’s Mask, that allows me to hide my identity, location and mind in the Mental World. Though, it’s far from my strongest construction, and this assailant’s power should allow them to so through it if I’m not careful… Problem is, I’m not sure how much time it would take with that level of power...

One thing’s for certain though. If I am to finish this quickly, I’ll have to use The Arm.

(0,5 seconds left according to Ienorb’s estimation)

(The prism spins, and senseless light is reflected with a different sense)

That stupid brat… What did he pull of, anyway?

Thankfully, Secret Police Force Karasu can warn me of particularly interesting events from far away, even if I have to get the crow close to get the details. Although, I’m not a 100% happy with this arrangement right now… I’d be better informed of what’s going on with Nim and Novalue, as well as the overall circumstance and the killer’s identity if I could get the info stored in that crow’s Mental World.

Well, not like it matters, I guess. Just gotta’ do some murder on the murderer and call it a day, yeah?

“Hmm. He’s far away, covered by some sort of fog, and examining with Psychic sense allows me to realize he’s wearing a mask. No doubt a construction of his to disguise data about himself. Now, the problem is… Though I could pick apart and see through the barrier, I doubt he’s going to just stay still and let me do so… Hm. And speaking of time, Nim and Novalue should be arriving, and though I abhor their participation...”

I summon Reminiscence and point the camera at him while posing dramatically:

“Stop right there. Or else… I’ll take a photo of you.”

Now then... I don't actually expect him to adhere to my warning, but it's all the better if he doesn't, really. Because the power of my camera is-

Swiiiiiin... SWON!

“!”

What appeared behind him… An arm...? And it threw a…

(0,4 seconds left according to Ienorb’s estimation)

“Damn!”

Click! Phhooooo!

Bloooshu!

“Guh!”

Pam!

(The prism spins, and senseless light is reflected with a different sense)

The power of The Arm… The ability to manifest a Shadowy Killer’s intent, copying my arm and whatever it carries, and summoning said copy anywhere where it can come out of cover and be seen… Just like a murderer, that can come out of anywhere, precisely when and where you’d least expect to, and the only thing you’ll know of him is his actions, not his identity! Of course, as said description matches myself, it grants it much more power.

“Hahah. And this power goes a long way in ensuring The Arm’s overwhelming combat capabilities! Hurting my real arm in the Mental World will affect the summon, yes, but the reverse is not true. That, added with it’s ability to turn intangible and it’s speed make it quite sneaky… And it’s destructive power is unmatched! This woman has managed to resist it thanks to being overall more powerful than me, but I can see even from here that heavy damage has been inflicted...”

“Now, I’ll use her body as cover, with my vision covering her front! So long as my gaze meets that area unblinkingly, I’ll be able to make The Arm appear from behind her! And since it will stab her directly, that damage will definitely put an end to this!”

(The prism spins, and senseless light is reflected with a different sense)

That thing he threw... Because it was so very fast, and because it dissipated and exploded in the oddest manner when coming in contact with me, I couldn't see it very well... But I did manage to take a photo of it, and through that, I was capable of "seeing" it... As whatever was caught in that photo was now part of my mental world as well, naturally.

And thanks to that, I knew that it was a knife...

“Well... Not gonna' lie, that was a simple, but strong move…” I said, while getting up... And picking a photo sticking out of the camera. “But... I managed to photograph it…”

“...?”

(0,3 seconds left according to Ienorb’s estimation)

“Mm mm mm...! I can sense your curiosity and doubt, and am thus going to explain what my power is... See, any photo I take with this camera... Becomes a copycat of reality. It's a copy of the very past itself. I can effortlessly summon this past to the present in it's form as a copy. And, might I remind you…” I swinged the photo.

Floop. Donw!

“I took a photo of that knife you threw at me.”

“!!!”

Swoooon!

Blooshu!

“Seems it hit... I can't see it very well from all the way across here, but you're looking pretty damaged. What a fucking weakling.”

I pause for a moment, reusing the knife photo to stab to now confused and fragiled arm that he summoned to stab me. After I do so, the photo fades completely. Bah. No souvenirs, I guess…

(0,2 seconds left according to Ienorb’s estimation)

“The copies of my photos don't have the full power the original one had. For practical purposes, I'd say it's 80% for knowledge and memories specially, 40 to 60% for abilities and other things and 20 to 30% if we're talking emotion... Given that that knife was practically dripping with schadenfreude, I'd wager it was mostly emotion... So you can't even tank 30% of your own power, huh?!”

(The prism spins, and senseless light is reflected with a different sense)

S-She’s much too strong! I’ll be defeated! I can’t face her, and even if I could, my time’s ending, and escape is impossible while I’m hurt like this! …!

No, wait… I have an idea. It’s true that I, Ienorb Yenruoj, am a very passive person. But whenever I face any sort of problem that I simply can’t get through, I evolve and reach a new level! And I think I just thought of a new way to use The Arm…

I jump forwards, observing my chest and summoning the arm using my body as cover… and then having it hold my body… to FLY!

“I’ll run for now! There is no disgrace in admitting when you’re outmatched!”

(The prism spins, and senseless light is reflected with a different sense)

“What the-!? ! Film Tape! Grab him!”

Snip!

…

…

...Or not.

“Damn, he went outside of my range way too fast...”

(0,1 seconds left according to Ienorb’s estimation)

(The prism spins, and senseless light is reflected with a different sense)

These presences…! It must be those two that I was tailing before! It’s a miracle they took so long, but now is not a good time either! I’m surrounded!

“Damn!” I think, as the fake wind of the Mental World blows my hair and suit “I’ll just have to make a break through them! If I can’t, then I’m not called Ienorb Yenruoj!”

…

…

…

(No time left according to Ienorb’s estimation)

…

…

I… I made IT THROUGH! I should be far away enough in the Mental World now, that they can’t track me!

But the time I wasted… I need to get back to my body!

(And now, may reality torture us once more...)

! Oh no!

This is bad...! I’m not sure I can do it! And if they’re giving up chase on the Mental World, they ought to be pursuing me in the physical one! Maybe they can’t catch me, but they might identify me if I fail!

“I have no other choice… but to pull through! UWOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

Tum.

!

“I… I DID IIIIT! I DIDN’T FALL HEAD-FIRST ON THE GROUND!!! THIS IS THE GREATEST ACHIEVEMENT OF MY LIIIIIIIFE” I yell as I run, and then jump while gesturing dramatically with my arms: “YOOHOOOO! GWAHAHAHAHAAHAAAAH!!!”

[bladehymn]

N.B. this timeline works under the assumption that “2000 years ago” refers to 2000 years prior to the four continents of Eos adopting the same calendar system in 1 ME, rather than 2000 years prior to the fall of Insomnia in 756 ME.

Unknown day, March 2024 AE

Drago’s father, a hunter by trade, is killed in the field. 

28th March, 2024 AE

Adira learns her husband was killed when his dogtags and lance are returned to her. The lance is hidden away in storage, but serves as the basis for Liulfr Jeri in the future.

April 19th, 2024 AE.

Drago is born in Baloren.

2023 AE.

Gentiana Nox Fleuret is born in Tenebrae.

May, 2016 AE.

His younger brother, Uri, dies at age 5 from Starscourge. Drago begins, despite his mother’s wishes, to train as a warrior, spurred on by a sense it is his rightful place in the back of his mind.

2006, AE.

On completing his training, Drago creates Liulfr Jeri. He requests the help of a knowledgeable smith, but still assists in the forging of the weapon.

March 1999 AE.

The same compulsion that drove Drago to become a warrior returns, spurring him to travel to what would become the Gralean continent. He is driven by an insane desire, barely sleeping or eating as the urge grows louder, only quieting when he travels.

April 1999, AE.

The war god Bahamut descends on humanity and declares Gentiana Nox Fleuret to be the first Oracle, gifting her his trident and granting her the capacity to heal the Scourge through holy magic. At this time, he also declared Ardyn Izunia to be the first King of Lucis and chosen of the Crystal.

June, 1999 AE.

Drago arrives at a disused shrine, far to the southwest of Gralea. It is here the god Bahamut reveals himself to be the source of the compulsion, bestowing on him the blessing of the Bladekeeper and a facsimile of the Ultima Blade. Drago is then told it is his divine destiny to protect the First Oracle and that he should seek her out immediately, as is the will of Bahamut.

July, 1999 AE.

Gentiana Nox Fleuret announces she will undertake a pilgrimage to commune with the gods throughout Eos and the surrounding lands. As she cannot travel alone, she announces a three month long combat tournament to find the warrior most capable of protecting her. Their prize is to be the guard who will personally accompany her on her quest, as well as a gift of her own discretion.

October, 1999 AE.

Drago wins the tournament, besting all competitors as well as Gentiana’s house guard when she wishes to test him further. He is named the personal guard to the first Oracle and is given quarters on the Fenestala estate.

November, 1999 AE.

On their visit to Bahamut’s temple, first of the pilgrimage, it is revealed following an altercation with monsters and Bahamut’s own intercession into Gentiana’s communion that, like the Oracle, Drago was also blessed by an Astral. Her personal trust won for his courage and honesty, Gentiana gifts him with her eternal thanks and Orion, a trident styled after her own.

late January, 1998 AE.

Ardyn is rejected by the Crystal following the healings of the Scourge he has performed. Quick to seize on his brother’s failure, Judah Izunia, under the guise of ridding Lucis of true darkness and evil, had his brother executed as a public event, timed to the end of winter that the coming days of longer light would look to all the world that darkness had been extinguished. Following this, Judah renamed himself Somnus Lucis Caelum, the Founder King.

1998 AE.

Somnus and Gilgamesh join the pilgrimage. Drago is mistrustful of both, but more openly so towards Gilgamesh. Despite his misgivings towards Somnus and his rule, Drago is aware of his place in the world and so behaves civilly, if cooly, around Somnus.

July, 1998 AE.

The feelings Gentiana and Drago have been building over the course of their time together come to a head, and the two begin a relationship, keeping it secret from both Somnus and Gilgamesh.

1997 AE.

Somnus proves himself to the Astrals, and is granted the Crystal by Bahamut.

December, 1996 AE.

Bahamut comes to Gentiana and informs her she must bear a child to continue the line of the Oracle, one that will be able to withstand the power of gods and wield his trident. He possesses Drago and eventually impregnates her, ensuring the Nox Fleuret line will hold the strength needed to work in tandem with the Chosen King. Although both Drago and Gentiana remain unaware of it, it was for this reason Bahamut blessed Drago, that he might be able to serve as a vessel and allow Bahamut to act on his desire.

April 1995 AE.

Drago and Gentiana are married in a highly publicised event, to both raise Tenebraen morale and avoid the possibility of the Nox Fleuret heir being born out of wedlock. As well as rings, more personal gifts are exchanged; Drago gifts Gentiana a handmade necklace fashioned in traditional Baloren style and Gentiana gifts Rhongomiant, a ceremonial trident crafted from meteor metal and starlight drawn from her own magic. While Drago does not use it in battle, it is blessed by the might of the Oracle that it’s wielder always be victorious in combat.

September, 1995 AE.

Calliope Nox Fleuret is born, sole daughter of Gentiana and future Oracle.

January, 1977 AE.

Her health degenerating following her many years of healing the Scourge, blinded, near robbed of her voice, and unable to walk without aid, Gentiana commits suicide by stabbing herself with a dagger and walking into a half-frozen river by a Glacian temple. She takes only Somnus with her, leaving Drago at Fenestala. Her body is not found until the river is thawed.

late February, 1977 AE.

Gentiana’s body is found. Drago learns she was last seen with Somnus and, incorrectly assuming her injuries to be the result of murder, challenges Somnus in a fit of mourning rage. Blinded by emotion, he is no match for the Founder King and is impaled through the heart by his own spear. In a fit of jealousy toward their relationship, Somnus disobeys Gentiana’s last wishes to have her Sword interred with her on his death and has Drago buried in an unmarked grave, far away from the Oracle’s tomb.

April, 1977 AE.

All of Tenebrae mourns the loss of their Oracle, with Somnus erecting statues of her in the Lucian Citadel. Drago’s fate is unknown, with rumours ranging from it being him who was responsible for Gentiana’s death to him abandoning his post and leaving Tenebrae to never return. By Somnus’ order, all mention of Drago is struck from official records, erasing the Sword of the Oracle from history; the title remains only in unofficial stories, tales of the First Oracle spread by word of mouth, and rumours there was once a Sword to match the King’s Shield. Even these rumours do not portray Drago positively; although uncertain, it is suggested in them that the Sword went mad, or murderous, or both, and the title was erased that such a tragedy may never repeat itself again.

1 ME.

Niflheim, Lucis, Accordo, and Tenebrae all elect to use the same calendar system.

September 4th, 731 ME.

Lunafreya Nox Fleuret is born. Shiva, in the guise of Gentiana and posing as a High Messenger, moves into Fenestala Manor.

732 ME.

Rumours circulating about a ghost in Tenebrae reach an all time high. Many believe it to be the ghost of King Mors, or a soldier from the annexing of Tenebrae in 349 ME.

744 ME. 

Fenestala Manor is attacked by Niflheim forces. Queen Sylva Nox Fleuret is killed and Ravus and Lunafreya fall into imperial custody.

745 ME.

Shiva’s giantess form is killed by Niflheim forces in Ghorovas Rift.

748 ME.

Lunafreya becomes the youngest Oracle in recorded history at 16.

17th May, 756 ME.

Insomnia falls and Noctis Lucis Caelum becomes the 114th King of Lucis.

[rudderless-in-an-ocean-of-stars]

blood and wine, chapter one

Here it is, the first chapter of my first-ever OC fanfiction. I hope you’ll give it a chance, even if it’s not what you would normally consider reading. If you admire me at all as an author, please give it a shot, as this story is very close to my heart. :)

Find it here on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14677440/chapters/33910176

Summary:

“It’s a scream that pulls her back to reality, one that is quickly muffled and cut off- but not before she’s able to pinpoint the source of the sound. She shouldn’t interfere, but she can’t quite bring her limbs to keep moving, to keep herself walking forward and far away from the sounds of a struggle. The man who shoves past her suddenly stiff body with a mumbled expletive doesn’t share her qualms, hurrying away even as her stare burns twin holes between his retreating shoulders.

Coward.

Then she’s alone beneath the flickering lights of the row of the half-broken lamps lining the street, and she’s moving towards the alley at a near-run. Her need to keep a low profile be damned, Maia is all-too familiar with the memory of what it feels like to be a girl whose screams are ignored.”

//

She’s an ex-assassin turned reluctant vigilante living in New York City. What could possibly go wrong?

A/N: I know that most people avoid OC fanfiction, but I’m hoping that you’re here because my reputation as a somewhat decent writer has convinced you to give this a chance. :)

Now onto the important story stuff:

This will take begin by taking place roughly six months before Civil War, in late 2015, which is when it was canonically established that Peter Parker also began his vigilantism. For now, this story will be told from the OC’s POV, but that may be subject to change in later chapters. OC was born a year earlier than Peter, in 2000, making her a year older, and as of this chapter, 15.

Enjoy!

Chapter One: the price of salvation 

By the time Maia starts heading back to her apartment, a combination of the encroaching darkness and the biting cold seems to have been enough to have effectively chased most people back into the comfort of their homes. It’s only November, but the chill of the approaching winter has arrived early. She doesn’t mind the cold- she’s been in far worse situations to care about such a minor discomfort- and if the benefit of it is that the streets will be emptier, it’s an annoyance she’s more than willing to endure.

She lets her thoughts drift as she walks, imagines herself as one of the masses. Imagines returning to a brightly lit home with the scent of cooking food hanging heavy in the air and the sound of laughter to greet her ears as soon as she steps through the door, warm and genuine and purely inviting. It’s a silly, childish fantasy for her to indulge in, but it keeps her mind occupied for several blocks, so she allows it to drag on.

It’s a scream that pulls her back to reality, one that is quickly muffled and cut off- but not before she’s able to pinpoint the source of the sound. She shouldn’t interfere, but she can’t quite bring her limbs to keep moving, to keep herself walking forward and far away from the sounds of a struggle. The man who shoves past her suddenly stiff body with a mumbled expletive doesn’t share her qualms, hurrying away even as her stare burns twin holes between his retreating shoulders.

Coward.

Then she’s alone beneath the flickering lights of the row of the half-broken lamps lining the street, and she’s moving towards the alley at a near-run. Her need to keep a low profile be damned, Maia is all-too familiar with the memory of what it feels like to be a girl whose screams are ignored.

It takes less than a minute for her to beat the would-be rapist into unconsciousness. She feels like she’s cheated somehow, in trading a single minute of her time to save a woman now gasping out breathless strings of thanks in her direction. She’s spent so much of her life inflicting this same kind of violence, but never before for the benefit of people like the woman in front of her now, never in defense of the innocent.

Having the scales tip in a different direction is such a foreign feeling to her that it almost makes her dizzy. Even with Yasha on their hunts for the men who used to hold the whips, fighting never felt like this. It was still something dirty and brutal she had been wielding against the dirty and brutal men she used to serve.

Now, it feels like something else.

Now, it feels like salvation.

Concealing her face is nothing new to her, but by the time a fight usually begins she’s already ditched her wigs and false prostheses because people don’t usually get to walk away from her alive. Neither last very long once in-combat, anyways, and she doesn’t have the time or patience to apply them on a nightly basis. Nano masks are expensive and won’t withstand any real hits, and she’s really not in the mood to mimic common criminals by running around the city wearing what looks like a sock with cutouts for her eyes and mouth over her face. There’s the face-guard she’d worn on several missions that didn’t require a stealth infiltration, only straightforward assassination, but it works and feels like a muzzle, and she knows the design had been intentional.

Weapons didn’t need to talk. Weapons had mission objectives and targets to kill and no room for independent thought. And she may still be a weapon but that’s not all that she is anymore so she tucks the face-guard back into the bag she keeps in the corner of her closet where her old tactical suit and gear remains, having done nothing but gather dust for the past year. She’s outgrown what she used to be in the time since Yasha had set her free from the control of the Ouroboros in more ways than one.

The old bodysuit now feels tight and constrictive when she tries to slip into it again, and she remembers what it was like when her skin had clung close enough to her bones that it had been easy to count her ribs, one by one. They had liked to keep their weapon hungry, honed to a perpetually razor-sharp edge by discomfort and desperation. There had been times they wouldn’t let her sleep or eat for days just to test the limits of her body, her mind, her commitment to the task at hand, no matter how inane.

Now she understands what it’s like to be well-fed, to have enough flesh between skin and bone to dull the sharpness of her ribs and her collarbones. Her body is still sleek and muscled but no longer unhealthily slender, no longer bordering on breakable. Sometimes, in the dead of night when she can’t force herself to sleep, she likes to visit the 24-hour stores just to stare at the aisles full of food she can eat without waiting for a command, choices she can make without the heavy drum beat of a directive banging against the inside of her skull.

A month ago, she’d finally indulged herself and bought a fridge to furnish her apartment and had fought hard to keep from succumbing to the urge to self-punish for such a selfish, unnecessary act. She’d succeeded, then. A day later, Maia had ended up kneeling beside the bathtub and holding her head underwater until she’d almost passed out for treating herself to a hot cup of chai from a street vendor with kind eyes. She’d ended up on her back on the floor of the bathroom, vision blacking out at the edges as she struggled to breathe, hating herself for her failure to resist the voice inside her mind reminding her that she was an asset, and assets consumed sustenance for survival, not pleasure, and she deserved to hurt for the luxury of a single cup of chai. It was a battle she lost as often as she won, fighting to beat the vestiges of her programming back into the smallest, darkest corner of her mind.

In the end, she chooses a fitted black cloth neckpiece that she can keep around her throat until she needs to use it. It works well when she pulls it up to cover the lower half of her face, effectively concealing all of her features below her eyes. The lower end of it tucks neatly into the collar of the new custom black tactical suit that she’d used the man hired to act as her guardian to acquire. He was an accommodating man who didn’t mind taking orders from a girl less than half of his age, so long as she kept him on her payroll. The mask won’t provide much in the way of protection, but it‘ll keep her face concealed while still allowing her to speak, and that’s all she really needs.

None of the petty criminals and street thugs she confronts pose any real threat to her, but there’s still something exhilarating about the prospect of winning fights where she’s no longer on the wrong side. It’s new, different, and it doesn’t make her limbs feel heavy with regret when she lashes out with every intention of drawing blood.

The one rule she imposes upon herself is simple- no killing.

It takes longer to subdue her opponents sometimes, when she’s fighting a group and has to remind herself not to snap someone’s neck or crush anyone’s skull against the cement, but she leaves them all alive, albeit unconscious, and that’s a victory in and of itself for a girl who was raised to kill without a second thought. It costs her, leaving her with injuries she wouldn’t normally sustain if she didn’t care about leaving her opponents with a pulse, but every cut and bruise feels like a prize. She relishes the pain that she carries home with her after a night out on the streets, each and every single one of her aches serving as a reminder that she had left those people alive and with every reason not to step out of line again.

She’s been on the streets for nearly two weeks when she finally comes across another vigilante. The city turns out to have more of them than she expects, once she started paying attention. She’s seen blurry images of him on the news enough to already know who he is, but it still doesn’t stop a flicker of excitement from bursting to life in her veins when she finally meets the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.

He moves in a way that has her wondering who trained him, aware of every single thing around him even without turning to look. She’s been trained similarly to be aware of her surroundings, but his spatial awareness is so obviously superior that she’s almost envious.

Maia watches him fight, patiently waiting at the opening of the alley where he’s currently beating the crap out of a couple of muggers. The would-be victim had already run past Maia and back out into the streets, clutching her bag and probably hurrying to retreat to the relative safety of her home. She hadn’t even spared the masked girl a second glance in her rush to flee.

When he’s finished- which she notes with a mild sense of disappointment because it would’ve been a genuine pleasure to continue to watch him fight- he turns to her and tilts his head in query.

“I’m not here to fight,” she says, mindful of the way he’s already tensed in preparation for an attack.

“Then what are you here for?” He growls back, something dark and dangerous lining the edges of his tone, a threat so visceral that she can almost feel it permeating the space between them.

Maia steps deeper into the alley, and the shadows embrace her form like an old friend.

“Well, it seems we’re in the same business, so I thought I should introduce myself.”

“You seem a little young to be in this business.”

She doesn’t allow herself to stiffen, even as her heart skips a beat at his words. Whoever the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen is, he’s more perceptive than almost anyone else she’s ever come across. What gave it away? Maia’s trained her whole life to become a ghost, yet within a minute of introducing herself to this man in an alley, he can already tell that she’s still a teen?

“I took down those guys at the docks last week,” she tosses back, forcing herself to sound flippant and cold, “I think my age is the last thing you should be concerned about.”

It’s not quite a laugh that she manages to get of out him, but it’s close.

“I guess you’re right about that.” He nods, relaxing his stance and lowering his billy clubs to his sides. “What should I call you?”

Maia hums for a second, a little thrown by the question. She hadn’t quite considered creating a name for her nighttime alter ego yet. This new hobby of hers doesn’t feel so much as dressing up as it does dressing down, stripping away the costume of normalcy and returning to the truth at the core of her being, the part of her that has violence etched deep into the very marrow of her bones.

“Dealer’s choice,” she replies, and the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen really laughs this time. It’s a rich, warm sound that echoes brightly in the quiet stillness of the alley.

“Alright. How about ‘Jane’?”

“As in, Jane Doe?” She doesn’t bother stopping the smirk that stretches across her lips, hidden beneath the fabric obscuring her face from view.

He shrugs, and the gesture makes the tiny horns of his mask catch some of the faint moonlight that trickles down from high above.

“Why not?”

She frowns, considering it. Something stirs in the recesses of her mind, and she tugs the memory loose with practiced caution. She thinks she was a Jane, once, in Europe. One of her earliest missions. But the memory holds no trace of blood, so she agrees with a shrug of her shoulders and the barest tilt of her head.

“I don’t suppose you’d like to be called ‘John,’ then.”

“You can call me Mike.” He smiles, then, almost wickedly, and she’s sure there’s a joke in there somewhere that she’s most definitely not in on.

But even beneath the mask, she finds herself smiling too, and just like that, Maia somehow ends up befriending the Devil.

to be continued...

[mxgeclasspecting]

Session with a Sylph of Void , Rouge of Rage, Knight of Blood, Seer of Mind, Witch of Space, Mage of Time, and Maid of Light please! The Sylph, Witch, Mage , and Maid are sisters (youngest is the Sylph and the oldest is the Maid and Mage who are twins). The Sylph and Rouge are morails. And welcome to Tumblr as a new aspect blog! Hope you have fun!

I actually miscounted, and this is the last thing left in the inbox! I’ll open requests again, and after I get 20, I’ll close them. Feel free to ask me questions, though, just don’t send in requests.

Seven player session: Sylph of Void, Rogue of Rage, Knight of Blood, Seer of Mind, Witch of Space, Mage of Time, Maid of Light

# of players: 7

Required aspects: Covered, Witch of Space/Mage of Time.

Breeding the Genesis Frog:Witches of Space are sort of an odd case? As long as they focus and are past the part of their development where they don’t really pay much attention to Space (see early Jade), you should be good.

In Case of a Scratch:

Given their knowledge of and experience with Time, scratching should be relatively easy. The only thing I would recommend watching out for is that it could be difficult for the Mage themself to leave the session with a scratch, but it shouldn’t be too much of a problem.

Players (Active to passive)

Witch of Space, the third Witch of this blog! Jade is a pretty clear example for this title, both pre and post development. Whether or not they choose to use their partial association with Time, their powerset is pretty large. They could manipulate physical properties of things a la Jade shrinking the beta kids’ planets, change the action necessary that’s being taken (though this may overlap a bit with Life), or change the present itself! They could motivate people into taking action and making things happen, which may be best applied, taking the nature of SBURB into account, with game constructs such as breeding the Genesis Frog (see the Mage as their normal assistant, or convincing people to take other action so they can complete this task undisturbed), finishing personal quests, and perhaps leading the charge against the Black King. An all-around player who’ll be instrumental for ensuring the session goes smoothly on a technical level.

Knight of Blood, I believe our second Knight? I don’t see too many potential problems based on titles alone that may need this Knight’s interference, but it’s still useful to have. Applying Blood might make them the best ‘friendleader’, given that not unlike a Mage, they can use the Blood they’ve observed in their session so far and use it to their advantage, whether that’s helping their teammates resolve an argument, dividing up tasks according to who’s best suited for them, or possibly helping the Sylph or Rogue destabilize the Dersite authority. Taking Blood literally, they may be good with knowledge of flesh wounds, though that crosses more into Life and possibly Space territory. While likely more of a strategist, this Knight should not be overlooked when it comes to full attacks, and will be a useful ally.

Maid of Light, a title I’ve actually analyzed on its own. In the beginning, they may be at odds with the Sylph, considering their possible rejection of (or full inversion from) Light. However, like the Knight, they should be a good strategist/support player, providing distractions rather than being the main heavy hitter- if I may make a comparison, something like Boney from Mother 3, who’s fast and has many useful tricks but not too much physical strength. They could also fulfill a tank role in combat, creating relevancy/attention for themself instead of a teammate so said teammate can do the real damage. Creating unnatural information, which is just manipulation in kinder words, would likely do a lot for the team’s success as long as it isn’t directed at the team itself and instead at their opponents. A key player for behind the scenes work, you’ll want them to realize their powers and get past the first part of their development.

I analyzed a Mage of Time in my last session, so a lot of what I said applies here too, but I’ll reiterate. Personally, Mage and Time is a good combination so long as the Mage themself doesn’t get worn out by how much there is to experience about Time. They may have some sort of glitch in SBURB which allows them to experience their place in doomed timelines, therefore letting them know what not to do so that they can avoid their timeline becoming doomed. If they’re in a doomed timeline, they might be able to pull a Davesprite and give some crucial information to the alpha version of themself. They would likely be an incredible partner for the Witch in terms of frog breeding, especially if their knowledge of doomed timelines has encompassed failed attempts at searching for or actually breeding the final Genesis Frog. Their knowledge of what things have what effect on the timeline or series of events would make them a wonderful secondary leader to the Knight, but they could also make a capable fighter. Keep them alive and, well, sane–Time is a hard aspect to have for any class–and they should be an instrumental player even beyond their status as one of the cardinal players.

While I don’t believe I’ve ever covered a Seer of Mind, combining their knowledge of the path of decisions, analysis, and the collective with the Mage’s knowledge of the end result of, well, Time would make a wonderful pair. Because they can really only see the path, though, they would have to either learn to trust their instincts about how a certain thing would end or trust their teammates, especially the Mage who only really sees the end. They and the Mage could make a good strategy team for the main party, using their collective half-knowledge to figure out the best route for the best outcome. They also might be the session’s idea fountain, though their ideas may not always be the best. Maybe they could use their knowledge of the outer self and facades to become a spy or assist someone else, like the Sylph, in that task? Their powers aren’t necessarily suited to combat, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be a good offensive player, see Rose. It just means that they’d probably have to use their own ingenuity and not their powers for their attacks, though they could be useful in knowing what possibilities to act on. Wonderful strategist and a relatively good match for pretty much every member of the team.

Just like the Mage, I did have a Sylph of Void in the last session I analyzed! Overall, they’d likely work incredibly well with the Maid based on power set alone: where the Maid could give something benign relevance, the Sylph could create irrelevance for themself and their team, allowing for easier attacks. They could take away the meaning from ideas/information by giving whoever has it ignorance, indirectly destroying the information. While they’re very good as a support/defensive player, they could use their powers to their benefit in offense by becoming almost a trickster, weaponizing their ability to ‘heal’ with irrelevance and nonexistence by making it appear that something doesn’t exist, or popping in and out of an enemy’s ‘vision’ to confuse them while attacking. They and the Seer could make a good pair for potential espionage, or if the Dersites are planning anything against your Prospit dreamers, their powers could help make it seem as though everything’s fine and there’s not even anyone to attack. They could be very good at protecting your two cardinal players during the process of searching for the frogs, especially if anyone, native to SBURB or not, is trying to hinder their progress. While the role may seem to be meant for support or defense, their powers are so versatile that a creative player could do really anything with them!

You said that the Sylph and the Rogue were moirails? Well, Void and Rage are relatively similar aspects, and these two could definitely help each other. Speaking of just your Rogue of Rage, though, they’re another member who seems more to be a support role. With Rage being anger, negative emotions, but also strength and the ability to be a hard stop, taking that to give to others could be wonderful! In combat, this Rogue could simply steal the strength–the will to fight–from the enemy and give it to themself and their teammates, which has the potential to make it more of a one-sided curb stomp battle. Rage as disbelief could make your Rogue the main reality check, especially to your more… airy players, like possibly the Witch and the Maid. If something seems too good to be true, they likely know that it is, and they could give that quality to, say, an enemy leader to make their own subordinates not trust them! That, along with possible assistance from the Knight or Maid, could tear any opponents’ unity and, really, strength apart! Like the Sylph, they would likely have to be a bit more creative in terms of how to use their powers in battle, but it might be easier to structure the usage of their powers around how they or others fight. Still, though, a great combination which, used effectively, can make or break the enemy team.

Final Thoughts: I really don’t see any problems here! Except for possible sibling rivalry, the titles don’t really pose too many obvious problems, and unless something I couldn’t know about comes along, you seem like you have a good balance for a session! Congrats!

[vanceoliver]

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[weisswinds]

god, hey, remember this fucking thing? this self indulgent mess of a Kill la Kill fic that i love to pieces and would die for? here’s an update, in which Mako levels the FUCK up. Hunger chapter 20, Purity - 2k words

“Huh?” Mako tilted her head.

She and Sukuyo sat across from each other, crosslegged on Barazo’s office floor. Some of the trash had been pushed aside to make room for them.

“Mmm, I didn’t get it either at first,” Sukuyo said, smiling sympathetically as she reached over to hold Mako’s hand.

“Just start again! I’ll pay extra attention this time,” Mako’s earnest enthusiasm and passionate cheek slaps got a giggle out of Sukuyo.

“Promise?” Sukuyo wagged a finger, a teasing admonishment.

Mako nodded, and traced an X over her heart, “Cross my heart and hope to-”

Sukuyo’s grip on Mako’s hand turned to steel for an instant, halting the words before they came. Mako bit her lower lip as both of their gazes turned down.

“Please don’t say it,” Sukuyo murmured. The fear in her voice didn’t love room to argue.

“Mom?” Mako patted Sukuyo’s hand, putting on a brave smile, “It’ll be fine! As long as I’m with Ryuko and the others, everything’ll work out just fine!”

Sukuyo took a moment to heave a sigh before turning her golden brown eyes upwards again. It might have been a trick of the light, but Mako could have sworn Sukuyo’s eyes were brighter than normal.

“From the beginning then-” Sukuyo began, stopping when she saw Mako’s head already starting to droop. She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “It… would be easier to show you, I suppose. Like mother like daughter!” Sukuyo laughed warmly.

“I’m sorry!”

Sukuyo waved her hand, shaking her head with a smile, “Oh, no not at all dear! This is how I learned, and my mother too. If anything, it’s a good sign. You’re a Mankanshoku after all! Now, close your eyes, hold your hands like this.”

Sukuyo rested her hands on her knees, palms facing up, a pose Mako copied before closing her eyes. She clasped her hands together, a golden light radiating from them and filling the room. Eyes shut, Sukuyo separated her hands, golden orbs hovering just below them. She set them in Mako’s waiting hands, where the orbs sat a moment before sinking. The glow faded slowly, soon leaving Sukuyo in front of Mako. She was breathing peacefully, and appeared to be sleeping. Sukuyo knew full well the trial Mako was about to face, despite the peaceful expression.

“Good luck, dear.”

Mako awoke with a gasp, sitting bolt upright and panting.She looked around as she caught her breath, eyes wide. She found herself in what was once a pristinely kept stone garden, extending as far as she could see. The colors were subdued, as if a grey sheet hung in front of Mako’s eyes. She stood, looking at the stone structures overwhelmed by nature. Above, the sky was ashen grey.

“What in the world…” she murmured, and started walking.

She made her way across the massive garden, passing ruined fountains and various collapsed stone buildings. There were brightly colored flowers scattered around, their vibrance undisturbed by whatever muted the rest of the world’s color. She hoisted herself onto a large rectangular slab, casting an elevated eye around once more. It was the same as far as she could see. Stone ruins, reclaimed by nature, with vivid flowers punctuating the ashen landscape. Her eyes were suddenly drawn to a column of light, one she was sure wasn’t in the place she’d just been looking. It pierced the clouds above, its base a large dome. Mako made it her destination, hopping down with a gentle “Hup!”

As the dome came into focus, she saw that it was covered in images. Pristinely kept portraits of huntresses, paintings of them at rest or in action. They were all wreathed in a golden aura, from which the monsters they faced cowered. She circled the dome, finding more of the same. Halfway through her circuit, the images began to change, progressing through the battles they depicted. In each, the huntresses were victorious, their foes banished or beaten. Mako froze when she reached her starting place and saw the portrait smiling down at her. It was her mother. She looked younger, and wore set of light armor, but there was no mistaking her.

“Welcome, young Mankanshoku,” came a male voice suddenly, seeming to emanate from the dome and fill the land.

Mako took an instinctive step back, on edge and reaching for a weapon. Finding none of her usual arsenal, she raised her fists and demanded, “Who’s there?”

The voice sighed, “One of these days, one of you will understand before you come here…”

Mako lowered her fists, noticing the column of light pulsed and dimmed with each word.

“Ah, yes, you’ve noticed me.”

“You’ve got no body!” she declared, pointing up at the light. “People with no bodies can’t talk!”

“I… What? Just listen, young Mankanshoku. I am what Sukuyo tried explaining. She, like her mother, and her mother, and her mother, and so on, has left the work to me. No matter, like mother like daughter, as they say hm?”

Mako simply stared. “What are you?”

“A relic of a forgotten age, when magic and sorcery ruled the land. I was torn from my home by your ancestor, young Mankan- Ah, don’t make that face, she explained her reasons and I chose to stay.”

Mako’s frown shrank, but just a little. “So you’re some kind of spirit passed down in my family?”

“That is correct.”

“And you can give me power?”

“Correct. Ah, well, somewhat. There are terms, certain conditions, a contract to cover, a kind of ah… payment plan? Rather than money for a house, I’ll steadily give you more and more-”

“Forget that!” Mako interrupted, swiping a hand through the air sharply.

“Oh?”

“I’ve gotta get strong now . Ryuko, and Satsuki, and Nonon, they all need me. They’re going to be fighting some of the strongest people in the world and I can’t,” Mako paused, clenching her fist, “I can’t get left behind, I won’t . They’re too important to me.” She pointed at the light again, tears welling in her eyes, “So stuff your contract, Mr. Spirit, I’ll be taking your power!”

There was a long silence, and Mako felt the light regarding her. It laughed suddenly and heartily.

“Good, good! You Mankanshokus are a ceaseless wonder. I didn’t even need to tell you that was an option, and you were going to do it anyway, hm?”

Mako lowered her hand, and tilted her head, “Huh?”

“Cover your eyes.”

Mako obeyed as the light flashed brilliantly. She felt its intense heat, lowering her arm as it faded. Before her stood a golden suit of armor inhabited by what seemed to be a twisting mass of energy. It stood at six feet a short distance away. Its gauntleted hands rested on either side of the zweihander stabbed partially into the ground before it.

“Your instinct was correct, young Mankanshoku, no, Mako. You can attempt to take my power if that is your wish. All of my power.”

“Attempt?” Mako frowned.

The armor nodded, and continued. “I will test you in combat. Your body may be unable to handle all of my power at once. One of your ancestors nearly died, so I’ve since used this trial to ensure that will not happen again. If you are successful, my power is yours.”

“And if I’m not?”

“Truthfully, you may die. My power may overwhelm you completely, burning you from the inside out.”

Mako gulped.

“I see your resolve hasn’t wavered. Good. Shall we proceed?”

“Yes,” Mako sank into a loose stance, ready to attack or defend. She flexed her hands in preparation, knuckles cracking.

The armor hefted the sword, leveling it towards the huntress. “I ask once more, young Mako. This is your final chance to back down. I will think no less of you.”

Mako shook her head, resolute. “I’m doing this. For Ryuko, Satsuki, and Nonon, and everyone else in the whole world. I could never face them if I backed down from this,” she made to point again, golden light following her hand and coalescing into a sword. She looked at the hovering blade of light for a moment before grasping the handle. Power surged up her arm, coursing through her body. Gold shone behind her brown eyes.

The armor nodded, and assumed its stance, “Fight well, Mako.”

With that, their battle was joined, the armor streaking towards Mako with blistering speed. She blocked its overhand swing, free hand against the flat of her blade. A golden shockwave radiated from the impact. Her knees shook under the weight, but she didn’t buckle. She gritted her teeth, and shoved back.

“Good, good!” the armor’s voice boomed as Mako took the opening in its guard to score its breastplate twice before retreating.

It charged again, with the same burst of speed closing the distance in half a breath. Mako ducked under its swing, springing up and spinning to deliver a kick. Her hasty aim proved true, her boot striking the back of its armored fist and driving the sword into the ground. She thrusted at a chink in the armor, driving the blade home through the mass of light at the elbow. The armor’s sluggish backhand was easy to avoid, and Mako relentlessly seized the additional opening. She lunged for the armor’s head, pulling herself up it’s torso with one hand. Her fist sent the helmet flying, and she clambered up to its shoulders.

“Give it up, dammit!” she shouted, pulling her hand back.

She plunged her hand into the spirit’s body, wrapping her hand around a solid orb. It burned at first, the writhing mass of energy attempting to push her back. She was resolute, not flinching as golden tendrils sprouted from every opening in the armor to attempt to pull her off. They lashed at her back, wrapped around her limbs and pulled with all their might, but Mako would not be deterred.

“This…” she gritted her teeth, “Is nothing.”

The tendrils didn’t rip through her clothing as she thought, but she felt them searing her skin, and the smell of cooked blood met her nostrils. With a final shout and a titanic effort, she ripped the apparent core from the armor. Immediately, the tendrils withered, the light dissipating from the armor as the suit itself fell to its knees, lifeless. Mako fell onto her back, panting with her prize burning in her right hand. She lifted it to stare at the golden orb, a sun in the palm of her hand. It pulsed as it spoke.

“Admirably done, dear Mako. You have passed, and my power is yours.”

Before her eyes, the orb began to dissolve into motes of light. They swirled around Mako’s arm, and lifted her to her feet gently. The spiraled around her quickly, a veritable tornado of light. As it spun higher and higher, the voice spoke.

“I know some of what you will face, dear Mako. Face the future with the resolve you displayed here, and you will have no reason to fear. For I, Junketsu, am at your side. Close your eyes, Mako.”

Mako smiled, and did so. In front of her, the light coalesced into a human figure roughly her size. It stepped forward, vanishing when it met Mako’s body with its radiant light.

She opened her eyes, and found herself sitting on her father’s office floor, her mother sitting across from her. Sukuyo’s brown eyes lit up at the gold shining in Mako’s, and she threw her arms around her daughter.

“That’s my girl! And so fast! Junketsu didn’t give you any trouble did he?”  

“Tell her I never give anyone trouble they don’t deserve,” Junketsu’s voice filled Mako’s mind.

Sukuyo saw the shock on Mako’s face, and tut-tutted . “Ah, yes, you’ll get used to that.”

Mako stared down at her hands for a moment, clenching and unclenching them a few times. She could already feel whatever power Junketsu gave her coursing through her limbs. She looked at her mother with a broad smile, and shook her head.

“No trouble at all! If it’s to protect the ones I love, nothing’s gonna stop me!”

“A good answer,” Junketsu laughed lightly.

“That’s my girl,” Sukuyo gave a happy sigh. “Let me make you something to eat, you must be tired after that.”

As soon as she said the words, Mako felt the ordeal catch up to her, draining her completely. She pitched over, curled into a ball, and fell asleep. Sukuyo covered her mouth to laugh, and left her daughter to rest. She had earned it.

[catwhite7-blog]

A match which blends thirdperson actions with MOBA and also hero-shooter mechanics to build an appealing but flawed activity esport.

After you get eight situationally mindful players, even nevertheless, there's a lot to adore. The characters-- both their design and balance--are the optimal/optimally aspect of become alpha sex game. From the conventionally cool graffiti-artist street samurai Daemon to Maeve, the cyberpunk witch, to Cass, an E Mo assassin with robotic bird bottoms, each of those 11 characters in the initial roster has an exceptional and interesting appearance.

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There is a little room for customization: in between games, you could equip a set of mods--which you can generate by playing with with specific personalities or acquire in-game forex --to Enhance your stats and techniques in various manners. In the event you believe one strike or special ability much more significant than the others, you can min-max those boons to adapt your playstyle. Each character begins having a set of default option mods, therefore there is an inherent sense of dealing emphases, in place of construction power as time passes. Movements in aggressive multiplayer matches is frequently a fool's gambit--most matches damage their stability with overpowerful gear--but become alpha porn games's mods thread the needle. They truly are successful to punctuate certain skills, without creating them unstoppable. What's more they also have a set of abilities that causes them specially well-suited to their precise sort of playwith. In modern day competitive manner, each and every character have a special collection of rechargeable and stats special moves that make sure they are useful in a particular context, which only presents itself when coordinating with your teammates. The characters have been divided into three classes--harm, Support, Tank--but each personality's approach into this job is exceptional. As an instance, Buttercup--a human-motorcycle hybridvehicle -- is a Tank designed for crowd controller: She forces enemies to engage with her from yanking enemies for her having a grappling hook and also use an"oil slick" capacity to slow them down. In comparison, fellow Tank El Bastardo is marginally less durable but deals more damage thanks to a exact powerful standard attack and also a crowd-clearing spin strike which may push enemies apart from him. It will take just a little exercise to fully understand these distinctions well-enough to take advantage of these but it is easy to learn how every fighter functions. In some ways, building on the base created with additional E-Sports works to become alpha sex game's advantage. Inspite of the fact that it has a brand new game using lots of of guidelines and idiosyncrasies to find out it can quickly feel comfortable and at ease to enthusiasts of competitive games because so many of its gameplay elements, from match types into character talents, are modeled off ideas from other video games. No character normally takes very long to learn, which means you are definitely going to locate your groove and begin having pleasure quickly. And, eventually, become alpha porn games's third-person perspective and a roster with tons of melee and ranged fighters distinguishes itself from the remaining portion of the package. As soon as you begin playing, it's simple to check past the things you comprehend and appreciate the advantages with the new configuration. Still, for all that become alpha sex games gets appropriate, it actually seems like the game's"early days." It's overlooking fundamental principles of competitive games, such as ranked play, that enables you to invest the experience and keeps individuals taking part in, long lasting. I want to believe Microsoft and Ninja principle will keep tweaking and enlarging the match so that it can compete together with additional competitive multiplayer matches, but it feels as a temporary multiplayer fix for gamers looking to divide the monotony, as opposed to the next E-Sports obsession. While each and every personality is well-balanced separately, the roster as an entire feels unbalanced on occasion. Considering the fact that you just have 4 players on every team, it's simple to receive forced to a specific role and sometimes perhaps a specific character. With 11 characters (and one more announced fighter in the way)there are a limited number of alternatives at every placement. On top of this, the certain personalities satisfy out the job a lot better compared to many others. Zerocool, the user, may be the only pure healer, for example. Unless teammates use the other support personalities in tandem, it truly is tricky to justify not selecting him when playing this role. The absence of choice can be bothersome: Actually in match making it could make you feel obligated to engage in since a personality which you really don't like and could result in you actively playing from personality, which isn't very fun. The caveat, though, is that everyone else needs to"play their class" as soon. With only four people to some workforce, having one man who isn't focusing to the purpose or with their skills that will help the staff could drain the fun out of this match very quickly. This ends match making in to a tiny crap shoot. You will never know if you will get teammates that understand the score, or certainly will drop what to start fights, or play the objective too much and ignore the team. Even though a warning after you turn the match for the first time that communication is critical, only a small number of players employed headphones in my adventure. While there's an Apex Legends-style ping method that works reasonably well for quiet players, so most players do not listen into it. Despite solid communication options, the rigid demands of this gameplay help it become easy for a single stubborn human being to spoil the exact game for the others. A game that combines third person action with MOBA and also hero-shooter mechanisms to produce an appealing but flawed action esport..xxx. There's no easing in to producing a competitive match in 2020. Already bombarded with matches like Overwatch, Rainbow 6 Siege, the battle royales, the MOBAs, and also the vehicle chesses, people have plenty of selections, Thus in the event you want to present another, it'd been ready for prime moment. become alpha porn games, the new third-person competitive brawler from DmC developer Ninja Theory, does not feel as if it is there yet. There's a good deal of possibility : Its four-on-four scrums combine the mashy feeling of the old school beat-em-up using the strategic criteria of MOBAs and hero shooters, setting it apart from anything you are going to find in common scenes that are competitive. However, it is affected with"ancient days" increasing pains which can push away players, rather than simply draw them . Both things need all four gamers to work as a group. While a few fighters are far best suited to one-on-one combat than others, moving and fighting since a squad is compulsory as the team with larger numbers more often than not wins, irrespective of ability. Inevitably, every single match gets to be a collection of staff struggles for control of an area. In the present time, these battles can feel a bit mashy and sloppy since you rapidly hit the strike button, but there's a lot of technique involved around creating favorable matchups, mixing abilities to optimize damage coped and reduce harm obtained, and positioning to avoid wide-reaching audience control strikes. On top of the, each of the amounts pose some type of environmental danger around one or more of those crucial points onto the map, that can throw a wrench in the gears of their most pivotal moments in a suit. We ought to also deal with hyper-intelligent 800-pound gorilla within the space. become alpha sex games cribs far from Overwatch. Though unique and clever, the character designs collectively exude the exact same faux-Pixar veneer because the Overwatch throw. Then again, they cut it pretty close some times. Mekko, the 12th become alpha sex game character, is just a marathon commanding a huge robot,'' that sounds much such as Wrecking Ball, Overwatch's Hamster at a huge robot. But on the technical degree, each of become alpha sex game's modes feel very like Overwatch's"get a grip on " Don't get me wrong: King of the Hill is not particular to Overwatch by almost any means--multiplayer matches have been riffing online for years--however, the MOBA esque skillsets of all become alpha sex games's personalities guide one to technique people scenarios using hero shooter approaches.

[drawbauchery]

The Comic Adventure, Part 2

Part 1

—

Steven peered out of the tent, only daring to slip an eye through the opening. He saw Lapis and Connie still cackling in victory. Pulling back in to avoid being seen, he turned back to Peridot and Amethyst.

“OK, I think they won’t touch us for now. Maybe.”, Steven uneasily assured them.

“What was that all about?!”, yelled Peridot, pointing to the door flap of the tent, slightly bouncing from her sitting position on the layers of cloths and cushions that made up the tents floor, “Have they descended into complete madness?!”

“I don’t know, P.”, shrugged Amethyst, “I get a little freaky every few hundred years. Never wanted to, what was it, ‘conquer the world’? Nah, not like that.” Amethyst fell backwards onto a cushion, stretching out as she stared at the tent ceiling.

“Well, I don’t like it!”, Peridot huffed, crossing her arms, “Lapis wouldn’t hurt an insect, and now here she is throwing water at people! Especially me! Me!”, she repeated, tapping on her chest in emphasis.

Amethyst raised a hand, “She did nearly steal the Ocean. And she did say she went mad with power.”

“Hey, hey, hold on.”, entered Steven, “Let’s not get carried away.”

Turning around, Steven approached the open flap of the tent, peeling it away just slightly to see outside.

“Ha ha ha! Oh Lapis, you were amazing!”, shouting Connie, jumping up and down in front of Connie, making Lapis giggle in turn.

“Are you sure? I thought I might’ve been laying it on a little thick once or twice.”

Connie shook her head, taking a step toward Lapis, “No, you were perfect! Absolutely perfect! You were straight out of a comic!”

Lapis blushed, squeezing Pumpkin tighter in her arms.

Steven smiled, and crawled back in, “Guys, I think they’re just playing. Maybe Connie has shown her a few comics.”

Peridot squinted, “‘Comics’?”

“Oh yeah!”, declared Amethyst, “Yeah, that makes sense. I thought Lapis reminded me of something.”

“You collect comic books, Amethyst?”, asked Steven.

“Ehh, used to.”, shrugged Amethyst, “Got sick of them before we met Greg. Man, they went bad in the Nineties.”

“Can someone please explain to me what these ‘comics’ are?”, Peridot said, annoyed, putting ‘comics’ in finger quotes.

“They’re like…”, Steven started, “They’re stories, but full of pictures, and they’re about, like, superpowered people, and some of them are good and some are bad and they fight to protect people or to, like, rule the world, and stuff.”

“Hmmm.”, Peridot grumbled, only partially satisfied. “And you hypothesise Lapis and Connie are partaking in some…comic themed performance meepmorp?”

“Uhhh…”, Steven looked to the side, “Yeah.”

Peridot’s look of suspicion, after a moment of retaining itself, blew apart to form a face of pure enthusiasm, “Then we shall endeavour to join them in this! What do we need?”

Steven rubbed his chin, “Well, we need some costumes, I think. I’m not sure if we–”

“I’m way ahead of ya.”, interrupted Amethyst, before burst into a purple light as she shapeshifted a new set of something, what looked like a purple leotard with a cat paw symbol on her belly, with a small mask around her eyes and a set of sat ears on her head, “Whatdayathink? Puma Girl!”, she boomed, striking a pose even in her sitting position.

“That’s cheating, not all of us can shapeshift!”, complained Peridot, “And what are you supposed to be?!”

Amethyst dived to a pounding stance, lowering her voice into a gravel, “Lost to the mountains at an early age, I was taken in by a Puma mother. Raised on the values of strength, stealth and solitude, I came back to civilisation to fight injustice wherever it was.”

It her answer did not appear to be adequate for Peridot.

“It’s alright, Peridot.”, Steven butted in, “We’ll work on some costumes with what we have, and I’ll explain it to you.”

—

An hour passed, and at last the three heroes felt ready to leave the safety of the tent.

“Are you sure this plan is going to work, Steven?”, asked Peridot, scratching her arms in nervousness.

Steven reassured her, “I’m certain. OK, Amethyst, you first. Remember, they could have a trap out there.”

“Sure, bub.”, agreed Amethyst, before she dived forward, out of the tent, performing a roll before entering a combat stance. “Alright, Aquatic, show yourse–”

She was halted in her attack by the sight of Pumpkin, still with a mask, chasing a butterfly in circles.

Amethyst heard a few stifles of laughter from a distance, turning to see Lapis and Connie sitting on the ‘balcony’ on the front of the barn. Breaking out of their giggles, Lapis grabbed Connie by the  arms and formed her wings, bringing them both down to the ground.

“So, you’ve come crawling back? Have you decided to join my army of evil?”, greeted Lapis, getting back into character.

Amethyst turned her body to fully face the two. “No way, Jose! We’re gonna stop you! And then we’re gonna kick your butt!”

“Ha!”, snorted Lapis, “You’re brave, foolishly brave, for you are alone and we are many. And the last I heard…”, Lapis formed a water orb, “Kitties don’t like BATHS!”

The jet of water approaching Amethyst’s face was nearly as fast as the manhole cover that was lifted from its place leaning against the barn wall and was spinning towards her, and even if she knew the reason why it still made her flinch a whole lot more than the water did. Thankfully, however, it halted in the air right in front of her, in time to completely block the water, the jet splashing harmlessly on the side facing away from her.

Both Connie and Lapis were stunned, jointly stammering, “Wah?!”

“That’s right, clods!”, Peridot burst out of the tent, sporting a green cape and a large ‘G’ made of turquoise tape stuck to her belly, striking a pose, one that Steven had told her was ‘heroic’, beside Amethyst as she made the cover hover to her side. “Your troublemaking days are over!”

Connie had a look of concern, but Lapis took a step forward. “Hmm, a duo of do-gooders, then? Well, no matter, it is still three against–”, turning to try to spot Pumpkin, Lapis was dismayed to find them rolled over on the ground, taking a nap. Three distinct ‘awws’ were heard, causing Lapis to to turn back to Connie, finding a henchman incapacitated by the cute sight, and gave her a glare to return back to form. At last, she continued her gaze on the heroes. “Regardless, this battle will be over quickly, for though our numbers are equal–”

“No they’re not!” came a third voice from the tent, before Steven, in a white bedsheet fashioned into a short toga, jumped out, holding a bow and a set of arrows with suction cups. “Time to give it up, Dr. Aquatic, you’re facing the combined power of…”, Steven struck a pose, “Cupid’s Arrow!”

Amethyst put up her hands to make a clawing pose, “Puma Girl!”

At last, Peridot pushed a fist into the air, seeming to be punching the air, “And the Green Magnet!”

Another ‘aww’ came from beside Lapis, “Steven, you look so adorable!”, exclaimed Connie, causing Steven to blush and fidget on the spot.

Lapis barked, “Silence, Weirdtask! Destroy them!”

“Yes, Ma’am!”, Connie snapped back to attention, aiming down her sights at Peridot, only to be interrupted by the need to dodge an arrow coming from Steven’s way, diving to the side.

“Fools!”, shouted Lapis, swiping to the heros to send a wide stream of water towards them in an arc, “Retreat into the fortress!”

Steven, Peridot and Amethyst were all pushed back by the stream, but Peridot was the first to react, spotting a line of tinsel draped over a tree branch nearby. “Oh, no you don’t!”

Using her powers, Peridot made the tinsel pull itself off of the tree and fly towards the villain, it catching and wrapping around Connie’s ankles, flipping and raising her off the ground, immobilised. “Oh, ow!”

“Sorry, Connie!”, shouted Peridot, still manipulating the tinsel to pull her away from the barn door, which Lapis was just about running through. “You two, go get Lapis!”

Nodding in agreement, Steven and Amethyst ran in pursuit of Lapis, stopping in their sprint just before entering the barn. Amethyst turned to Steven, “You sure you can do this?”

“I’m sure, I just have to get close.”

Sliding in through the door, Steven and Amethyst found Lapis climbing the last rung of steps up the ladder to the second floor, turning around to greet them. “You’ve taken my henchman, but you won’t take me!”

Amethyst shook her fist, “Can it, you drip!”

Lapis snarled, “Ahhh! Away!”, and she began forming orbs of water, causing Steven and Amethyst to split in preparation for the throws. She chose Amethyst as her target, hurling the orbs down at her. Against her expectation, Amethyst did not try to duck out of the way, instead raising her hands to block the worst of the throws with her wrists and knuckles. She maintained a zig-zag advance, until she made a large jump up to the second floor.

“Stay back!”, screamed Lapis, drawing in some water from the aquarium to form shields, only for Amethyst to punch through them as quickly as she can form them.

“Enough”, Lapis boomed, gathering up the water just as Amethyst came within 20 feet of her, wrapping the formed ring around Amethyst into a cocoon.

“Oof! Let me go!”, Amethyst struggled, fighting against the tight hold of the water, but Lapis maintained her advantage, even having enough space to indulge in a laugh.

She stopped laughing once she heard the voice behind her.

“Put her down, Aquatic.”

Lapis barely had time to turn around before she saw Steven begin his sprint directly towards her. She had water, but it was all expended on holding Amethyst. She tried to look over to the aquarium, but it was too far awa–

All thought halted as she felt the blow to her chest as Steven ran into her, grabbing onto her and sending her down to the floor. She lost grip on her water as her head banged against the floor, and she nearly started to struggle as she regained her wits, but then she realised something.

Looking down at her tackler, Lapis saw that she wasn’t being tackled. She was being hugged.

“Dr. Aquatic.”, Steven began, looking up at her, his eyes seeming to get bigger. “I know that people haven’t been nice to you, and have done bad things to you, and you’ve been made to feel like you’re a bad person that can only hurt others, but I wanted you to know that are guys out there who think you’re sweet and amazing and one of the goodest people that they know. Well, at least I think you are.”

Lapis noticed that she had gone numb in shock, but she couldn’t help but feel the smile growing on her face, her cheeks flushing their dark blue, her jaw trembling. “Steven…”, was all she could manage, before giving in and wrapping her arms around the little boy on top of her, squeezing him tight.

“You three ok up there?!”, shouted Peridot from the ground floor, Lapis able to see her standing with Connie. She and Steven also looked up to see Amethyst getting on her feet, running a hand through her soaked hair.

“Yeah!”, answered Steven, “We’re doing great!”

Steven nuzzled up under Lapis’s chin, and she hugged him even tighter.

(definitelyameatbag)

[dweemeister]

Tremors (1990)

The Hollywood monster movie exploded onto the scene in the 1950s. And no, this is not referring to the likes of Universal Studios’ Frankenstein’s monster or the Wolf Man. Those 1950s creature features, often taking themselves far too seriously or hobbled by paltry budgets, included giant insects, monstrosities from the deep, or deadly lifeforms from outer space. Ron Underwood’s giant worm movie Tremors (itself a Universal production) attempts to balance that monster movie suspense with an unexpected dose of comedy – largely succeeding in the process compared to its contemporaries and predecessors. The 1980s, perhaps influenced by the newfound popularity of slasher horror (in particular the Friday the 13th and Halloween franchises), had emphasized boundary-pushing gore and body horror over everything else in remakes like The Blob (1988) and The Fly (1986). Tremors knows better than to fall into that trap.

In the remote fictional town of Perfection, Nevada, Valentine “Val” McKee (Kevin Bacon) and Earl Basset (Fred Ward) are two bored repairmen looking to relieve themselves of their podunk hometown. The population is just over a dozen, a single general store is the source of nightly excitement, and there is only one road leading out of the arid valley where Perfection lies. As Val and Earl drive themselves towards the mouth of the valley, they encounter the aftermath of two unexplained incidents: the dehydrated corpse of a Perfection resident stuck up an electrical tower and the bloodied scene of sheep and a severed shepherd’s head nearby. Val and Earl believe a serial killer is on the loose, returning to Perfection to warn the residents of what they have seen. But of course, the deaths aren’t the result of humans, but a gargantuan, fast-digging worm – briefly called a “Graboid” in this film (this term would be more widely used in the sequels).

Also appearing in the ensemble cast are Finn Carter, Michael Gross, Reba McEntire, Bobby Jacoby, Charlotte Stewart, Tony Genaro, Ariana Richards, Richard Marcus, and Victor Wong. 

Carter, as a seismologist graduate student from the Midwest named Rhonda LeBeck, is Val’s romantic interest. There are no subtleties about the future direction of Val and Rhonda’s relationship, but at least Tremors avoids making Carter’s character an uninteresting, naive scientist figure often stumbling into massive trouble. Val and Earl are just as prone to finding themselves in sticky situations as Rhonda is, and they all come to each other’s rescue more than once over the course of the film. Nevertheless, the whole Val-Rhonda romantic wink-and-nudge-fest is unnecessary, and adds nothing to the already-considerable life-and-death stakes of Tremors. Elsewhere, Gross and McEntire – the latter best known for her country music career and her 2000s television sitcom – are probably the most surprising, but their scenes should be watched (especially the moment when their arsenal is revealed, perhaps satirizing Americans’ fascination for firearms), not described.

Brent Maddock and S.S. Wilson are co-producers and screenwriters for Tremors, and the dialogue these two have crafted is too ridiculous to take without cracking a clever smile. Any suspense within Tremors comes from the filmmaking, not the screenplay. But when paired with Kevin Bacon’s laughable accent paired alongside that unkempt mullet and Fred Ward as a sort of straight-shooting foil, the writing – often mindless, and too closely following a format of character inspections, blood and gore often paired with futile screaming, and jokes (until the final half-hour, the comic relief after-scenes are usually not close to where the violence was) to soften what has just happened – somehow worked for me. Whether it was Gross and McEntire’s characters talking about their elephant gun in the middle of combat or Victor Wong’s character maintaining a capitalist’s composure as he uses one part of the Graboid as an opportunity for a posing for photographs scheme, a near-perfect balance of gravity and wackiness is apparent even in the opening minutes.

A good amount of half-swears is indicative of some self-awareness within the film. Tremors, misunderstood by some moviegoers and critics taking too seriously a film that never takes itself seriously, reminds me of Starship Troopers (1997) – a distant cousin also about exterminating deep-dwelling monsters with survivalist instincts. Then-contemporary audiences and critics failed to understand the comedic placement in both movies, that any of the cheesiness found in both films were intentional. Tremors and Starship Troopers are neither show-us-the-monster/s-already or let’s-show-everything-right-away films. Both time their first significant monster reveals quite well. The former, to ratchet the tension early on, depends on low-angled, hand-held camera movements mimicking the Graboid’s progress towards its target. This approach, direct from Steven Spielberg’s tactics for Jaws (1975), was adopted thanks to the barebones budget for the film, passé as these techniques are now.

When the Graboid rears its head for the first time, the viewer can instantly tell that it is not the work of computerized animation, nor are the Graboids from the school of stop-motion animation innovated by Ray Harryhausen. But the Graboids found in Tremors are related to Harryhausen’s work, as all of them are enormous puppets. The filmmakers might have battled with a constraining budget, but the special effects here are believable, and outdo numerous other monster movies in the 1980s and 90s.

Special effects artists Alec Gillis and Tom Woodruff Jr., in their concept art, used elements of crocodiles, dinosaurs, elephants, rhinos, and other animals into their sketches – to have simply looked at worms would have been limiting in attempting to create a unique design. Hand puppets were used for the Graboid’s tentacle-like lingual appendages. With multi-pronged tongues resembling snakes, these giant, phallic worms, resemble somewhat the sandworms in David Lynch’s 1984 film adaptation of Frank Herbert’s Dune. The making of the Graboids for the original Tremors – there have been four sequels (all of which have been direct-to-video), with Tremors 6 (2018) currently filming – can be seen here. Some stills about the only full-size Graboid model (if we are talking cross-fictional-universe dimensions, a Graboid is larger than a Sarlacc’s head, but smaller than a Arrakis sandworm) can be seen here.

Though the fictional town of Perfection is in Nevada, Tremors was shot in Lone Pine and Olancha, California – two eastern Californian cities in Inyo County that convincingly double for Nevada (Inyo County borders Nevada; the filmmakers can thank California for being such a geologically diverse state). With so few interior shots in Tremors, the high desert frontier captured by the cameras has been rarely seen in American filmmaking. That on-location shooting allowed Perfection to feel as isolated as Val and Earl bemoan it for, offering to viewers a glimpse at the edge of the old Western frontier. Ron Underwood and cinematographer Alexander Gruszynski might not be John Ford and Winton C. Hoch (that director/cinematographer team’s credits include 1948′s 3 Godfathers, 1949′s She Wore a Yellow Ribbon, and 1956′s The Searchers), but the two make satisfactory use of the natural surroundings.

Tremors may not have found success in cinemas, but the majority of its sizeable viewership in home video releases and reruns on cable television assured it of future success. It is a monster film rough around its edges, something one might expect from a B-movie. But the humans, when not confronted with the absurdity of a burrowing worm, are believable terrorizing their town, are as believable as they can in such a situation; when that believability can’t be reconciled with events on-screen, Tremors tosses some comedy about for variety. No matter its unoriginality, there is a spirit to Tremors not easily replicated – a spirit that has a wicked sense of fun.

My rating: 7/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found here.

[zanpyreanor]

[Story] Captivity (Part 5)

Zan slept sitting up, hugging onto Nuada, his hands resting on Nuada's wings, with his back against the bars, his back ached from the bars pressuring down on either side of his spine. His eyes opened and he glanced around the room.

Keylorian sat in a meditative pose next to his bed. The monk's eyes were half-closed, and his ears appeared relaxed.

Nuadathiel became aware of the room again. His wings shivered as he lifted his head and inhaled deeply. He turned to see whom he awoke curled up with; he had a half-dead look to his gaze.

The mage's expression lightened slightly as he saw the shock of red hair, and he moved away from Zandrae to allow the ginger to sit more comfortably.

Iviaen slept in a ball under his pile of blankets, his journal sat on the ground beside the bed. Zan leaned forward away from the bars and ran his hand along Nuada's feathers, "Hey."

Nuada slowly sat and whispered, "Hey." His wings shivered, and then relaxed as the hand ran along the feathers. His right wing was healing, but one could easily find the rips where the arrows had penetrated by touch.

Zan avoided the injured parts of his wings. He bowed his head, "I know our friends will come and save us. I don't know when. I don't know how. But I know they will. I know our enemies want us alive for now, that man wants to make us into people like you. They may succeed. What knowledge can you give me to help get through this? What can I expect should they succeed?"

"You'll have a new set of instincts and way of thinking alongside yourself. It will govern what you do and how you feel until everything finishes merging together," replied Nuada. "You will be extremely vulnerable, physically and mentally, until the process is finished."

"You will end up in a form that is not Sin'dorei, and not the animal, and there will be a battle for control. You will want to be Sin'dorei, and the animal will want its form. Depending on how healthy and strong willed you are..." He trails off as attendants entered, they brought food trays, and food for the penned birds, which they uncovered and preened, then feed.

Zan continued to stroke Nuada's wing, "And if my will isn't strong enough?"

"The animal will reign supreme," Nuada replied.

The ginger then asked, "And if my will is too strong for harmony?"

Nuadathiel smiled, "It is only partly about harmony." he replies. "It is a negotiation between beings." The mage walks over and picks up the trays, thanking the attendant, then he says, "I need a harpy eagle perch," to the attendant, who nods and hurries off. He passes one breakfast tray to Zan.

Zan smiled, "You let the bird out sometimes."

"Yes," Nuada replied.

"Alright, I think I understand. Between you and me, though, I'd rather get out of here and go home." He took his breakfast platter and began to eat, "The food's not bad, but it's not quite home."

Nuadathiel nods quickly and bolts his breakfast, "I want to go home. I'm going to rip out this traitor's throat first."

He watched as the attendants brought in a large perch, waving Zandrae off to his bed while they placed it in the cell, and then departed after securing the door.

The mage hopped on top of the perch and his form shimmered. The harpy eagle flapped its wings and began to preen itself with its beak.

Zan moved over to his bed, he contemplated the idea of being difficult with these people, but, he wasn't really in a position to fight back, they'd simply put him under or restrain him, his life would become less comfortable and he might cause stress for poor Nuada. He began to rock on his bed again, causing the cage to move side to side as little wheels turned in his head.

After carefully inspecting his wings and the wounds, Nuadathiel glided to Zandrae's bed, landing next to him and resumed his winged-elven form.

Zan set his tray aside, "A part of me wants to resist, a part of me wants to try and appeal to the emotions of the staff. Like, it's hard to brutalize others if you view them as people."

Nuada nodded. "I don't know what to advise you with regards to that at this point. You are correct that they're going to take measures. However, you took a nasty blow that you need to heal from completely before they can even attempt it. If you form a bond with the bird you will find it easier on yourself if we are here long enough that they can perform the experiment."

Zan turned his head to the bird, "How can I bond with it when I'm over here and it's over there?" After a brief pause, Zan added, "... he," and corrected himself. Only mail peacocks had long tails, and this one was definitely male.

Iviaen called out from his cell, "I don't want to be an owl!"

"The idea of being a crane is not to my liking," replied Keylorian as he finished his breakfast.

Zan stroked Nuada's wing, "It's almost like he has a sense of humor. A monk, who heals, let's make it a crane. A nerdy white haired mage, let's make it an owl. A flamboyant redhead, let's make him a thalassian peacock."

Nuada's brows furrowed, "He always did have a sense of humor." The tone of his reply was bitter.

Zan glanced over at the bird, "How do I bond with him?" He glances at the bird then changed his voice to a baby talk voice, "Aren't you just a pretty bird. You're such a pretty bird."

"Gain his trust, and preen him," Nuada instructed. "Gain his trust first. You're good at that."

Iviaen let out a sigh at Zan's baby talking.

Zan sighed, "But I'm not at home, I can't exactly cook him a home-cooked meal and hug him from here." He reached over and put his hand out for the bird to sniff and spoke to the peacock, baby voice again, "You're such a pretty cock."

"Zan no!" Iviaen climbed under his blankets.

Keylorian sighed.

Nuadathiel looked over to Zandrae, "You can fight it, you know. It's been done."

Nuada frowns, "They killed them after, but people have successfully blocked the merging process and lived." Nuadathiel pitched his voice loudly enough to carry to Iviaen's and Keylorian's ears.

Zan replied, voice loud enough that the others could hear, "I think... not making them angry enough to kill us, so we can live long enough for a rescue is a good idea."

Valthan and the attendants entered with lunch.

Zan's shoulders tensed and his ears fanned back at the presence of Valthan and the attendants.

The peacock, which had been sidling over to Zandrae, practically bounced to the druid as he set a food tray in the pen and moved on to the owl, then the crane. His attendants slid the meals into the cells for each Sin'dorei.

Zan turned away and looked at the food, then curled up in his bed instead of eating.

Iviaen on the other hand, took the food, however, he wasn't as hungry as he was earlier. He wasn't at home doing activities like magic and making candy. He wasn't off on an adventure running for his life through tombs. His body literally didn't need as much fuel.

Nuadathiel took the food and sniffed it suspiciously, then set it aside and sipped the tea.

Keylorian remained in his meditative posture. It was as if the room did not exist to him. Perhaps it didn't.

Valthan passively noticed the change in the elven prisoners' attitudes towards food. He simply observed while he fed his birds and preened their feathers. He left, and the attendants left the trays, following him out. After the druid left, Nuadathiel reached for a roll on the tray and nibbled, then ate the rest of the food.

Zan grabbed his journal and for the first time wrote some text in it, then closed it and dropped the book back on the floor where it had been before, and went back to resting on his back in his bed. He stared at the ceiling.

Keylorian shivered and blinked, then looked at the lunch tray with a frown. He stretched and sat on the bed with it, and ate. His body was still repairing itself and he needed the fuel.

Iviaen forced himself to finish the food even if he already felt full, while they were feeding the group regularly, that could change, and, if they did go through with the experiment, and it was 'hard' on them, they might need it.

Once Keylorian was finished, he grasped the bars as high as he could reach and stretched, then began a series of katas and floor exercises. The old man started slow in order to ease his muscles into the routine.

Iviaen eyed Keylorian up and down, "I wish I had the strength to lift myself that way." He looked down at himself, "Then again, there's a lot more of me than there is of you to lift."

Keylorian looked at Iviaen. "You can build up to it. It would be to your advantage."

He moved to a position where he was standing on one foot with the other bent, reminiscent of the crane in front of him. "Hand to hand combat from magi is unexpected."

Iviaen shrugged, "I can run pretty good."

[operationrainfall]

Title Bloodstained: Curse of the Moon 2 Developer Inti Creates, ArtPlay Publisher Inti Creates Release Date July 10th, 2020 Genre Platformer, Retro Platform PC, PS4, Nintendo Switch, Xbox One Age Rating T for Teen – Blood, Violence Official Website

One of the most blockbuster reveals recently was the announcement that Bloodstained: Curse of the Moon was getting a sequel. The first game was a very faithful retro platformer, set in a similar style to Castlevania III. But I never in my wildest dreams imagined we’d get a Curse of the Moon 2! Though in many ways CotM 2 follows in the footsteps of the original, it also sets itself apart in a few ways. For one, there’s a new team of demon hunters joining Zangetsu on his mission. For another, overall I found this to be a meatier experience. The real question then is, was Bloodstained: Curse of the Moon 2 better than the first game? Or was it merely a glimmering echo?

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First things first. If you played Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night, you might have certain expectations after hearing that Dominique is playable. All I will say is put your expectations aside, because Curse of the Moon 2 constantly surprised me as I played. While Zangetsu was playable in the first game, here he’s playable the entire time. Other than Dominique, joining him are newcomers Robert and Hachi. Robert is an expert marksman who can snipe foes from half a screen away, crawl through narrow apertures and wall jump, but is otherwise incredibly frail. Hachi is literally a flying mecha operated by a corgi. No, I’m not sure how that happened either; all I know is Hachi is amazing. He can hover and utilize weapon points that other characters need for subweapons to make himself temporarily invincible. That sounds overpowered, but you’ll really learn to rely on it. He can also smash walls to open up new pathways. Also, since this was already revealed by Inti Creates, I can confirm the other demon hunters from the original game, Miriam, Gebel and Alfred, return at a certain point. I won’t reveal where, other than to say their portion was my favorite part of the entire experience.

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One thing that Curse of the Moon 2 does exceptionally well is make every teammate count. Nobody is a clone of anyone else, and each has their strengths and weaknesses. Some are physically stronger, others are faster, some jump higher and others can play crowd control. The first time you play, the end of each boss fight will be punctuated by the arrival of a demon hunter, who slays the boss in epic fashion. After you’ve recruited the core group, the game starts to change things up, and really forces you to alternate wisely and strategically between them. Thankfully that’s done easily by pressing L or R to shift between the group, and it freezes time for a brief second while it happens. A good example of how this mechanic works is against the gigantic mummy boss. He forces you to avoid spears and lightning while trying to scale moving platforms so you can reach his weak point. To do so, I went invincible with Hachi, then got up close and personal with Dominique’s spear, and if the boss ran, I would snipe him with Robert. This system isn’t overwhelming either, and rewards you for being creative. There’s more than one way to skin a cat, so to speak. That said, this game is inspired by hardcore retro NES games, so do expect to get frustrated by several bosses. Thankfully there was nothing here I couldn’t figure out how to overcome.

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I will say, I really grew to appreciate Dominique during my first playthrough. Her healing spells and powerful attack magic, along with her multifaceted lance, made her a true MVP. This turns out to have been a deliberate choice, since later on you won’t have her at your disposal. I really don’t want to ruin any of the story beats here. All I will say is that you won’t see the true ending for Curse of the Moon 2 for a while. To unlock it, you’ll first have to unlock various episodes and beat them. While you can beat any of the episodes in about 4 hours, my total playtime was around 14 hours. And I should mention, each episode has different quirks that make things a bit more interesting and challenging, such as harder attack patterns for bosses. Hell, one episode even practically turns the game into a Metroidvania, which I enthusiastically approve of. The main thing that changes in each episode is the final boss fight. Outside of that, you’ll have about eight stages to get through each run, complete with branching paths and hidden goodies, including items which permanently power up your team’s stats.

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Though Curse of the Moon 2 is made with a certain audience in mind, it’s also approachable to less confident or patient gamers. Though I played on Veteran, which keeps features like enemy knockback, you can play on easier modes that are much more forgiving. Regardless of mode, you can earn extra lives by scoring enough points from collecting items or defeating foes. Either way, the controls in the game are well implemented, and each attack has a distinct audio cue and range. You’ll grow to appreciate the various subweapons at each character’s disposal, such as Robert’s dual lances, Zangetsu’s burning scrolls or Dominique’s wall-crawling lightning. With the exception of Hachi and Gebel, each character has a variety of subweapons they can use. The controls all work marvelously, so you can only blame yourself when you fall into a pit or get skewered by a foe. One nice modern convention is you’ll come across candles that serve as checkpoints. They keep you from having to play entire levels over from the beginning once you die (and you will die). But like in the first game, each character essentially serves as an extra life, so you won’t have to use a continue until your entire team perishes, which will restart the stage.

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Speaking of bosses, all the bosses in Curse of the Moon 2 are epic. I’ve always appreciated Inti Creates’ artistic flair, and whether using pixels or sprites, they do incredible work. Each monster is complex and full of detail, and there’s some nightmarish beasts here. Take the first boss, which is a green wyvern. At first it looks somewhat standard, until the red skeleton parasite lodged in its throat breathes fire, or its eel-like tail spits electricity at you. Besides looking epic, all the bosses pose a significant threat, and will force you to learn their patterns and act quickly. Thankfully, I feel the bosses here are more well balanced than in the first game. Some of the original game’s bosses were near impossible without the right demon hunter, and many were hard even with your full team. I didn’t have nearly as much trouble with these bosses, with the exception of the numerous final bosses you’ll face. Those will stress you to the maximum, many with multiple phases, and will require every bit of skill and strategy to defeat. That said, these battles were definitely a highlight of the experience.

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The exploration in the game is also a step up from the first game. Many stages are built with dual paths in mind, and some won’t be accessible til you get the entire team of demon hunters together. These paths show off how expansive the stages are, and there’s plenty of hidden rooms full of rewards as well. Every stage is bristling with monsters, and they will do their level best to kill you, especially on Veteran. I got knocked into bottomless pits more than once by flying foes, and raced frantically across disappearing platforms. I will say, Hachi really helps you safely explore, since not only can he hover over pits, he can literally crush deadly spikes underfoot. While his large size makes him an easy target for foes, he’s still pretty invaluable. It’s a lot of fun switching between characters to help you explore stages and combat threats.

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Visually, I never have any complaints with Inti Creates, and that doesn’t change with Curse of the Moon 2. Not only is the artwork reminiscent of classics I love, but it is full of its own personality. Take the way each character poses after beating a boss, such as Zangetsu rapidly sheathing his sword or Hachi bouncing out of his mech to bark triumphantly. Even when you’re on the map screen, you’ll see the team interacting on the bottom. One of my favorite moments was traveling to an ice stage, with Hachi shivering until Robert put a blanket on him. These little touches just go to show the attention to detail present, and I love it. I already said how amazing the bosses look, but that goes for every other element of the game too. While it might not be completely faithful to NES restrictions, I could care less. I love how the game builds drama with background animation, such as sinister shadows watching you and then flying off to cause mayhem, or lightning strikes revealing hideous sea monsters. Thankfully, the sound design is also tremendous. There’s lots of distinct sounds that help differentiate the stages, and the grunts of your team lend them lots of personality. Each foe has audio cues as well, and the bosses roar demonically and make lots of noise to show how powerful they are. Honestly, the visual and audio design here is some of the best work I’ve yet seen from Inti Creates, and it’s a large reason why I keep coming back to their titles.

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I honestly have no real complaints about Curse of the Moon 2. It doesn’t trip over itself or make any obvious mistakes. The closest I could come to one is saying that it may be too challenging for some gamers, but that’s really not a problem. No game is for everyone, after all. Besides that, the only minor quibble I have is that I feel the true final boss of this game was somewhat less impressive than the first game. But in every other aspect, Curse of the Moon 2 outdoes its predecessor.

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Curse of the Moon 2 is great however you slice it. It’s not quite perfect, but it’s so damn close that it barely matters. For $14.99, it’s a bit pricier than the original, but still a great bargain. I enjoyed all the time I spent with the game, especially since there’s more to unlock. I have two mystery modes I’m working to open up, but even then there’s a lot of replay value here. You have multiple endings, as well as plenty of ways to progress through the game, and if a friend is close by, you can also enjoy the co-op mode, which looks really fun. You’ll even unlock cool features like the ability to play as Ultimate Zangetsu, who is even more of a badass than usual. While I would have appreciated a feature like an art gallery or bestiary showing all the enemy names, there’s very little to complain about here. If you like classic platformers and love Castlevania flavor, you absolutely need to own this game. Now I’m just hoping to get an announcement of a Curse of the Moon 3, cause frankly I enjoy these side stories more than Ritual of the Night.

[easyreview cat1title=”Overall” cat1detail=”” cat1rating=”4.5″]

Review Copy Provided by Publisher

REVIEW: Bloodstained: Curse of the Moon 2 Title Bloodstained: Curse of the Moon 2

[tripstations]

A Belchite Tour: The Ghost Town of the Spanish Civil War

Belchite sits almost untouched since it was destroyed in the Spanish Civil War

The ghost town of Belchite must be one of the best sites to visit for those who have an interest in the Spanish Civil War, warfare in general, or that period of history. Even if you don’t have an invested interest, as an experience and exposure to the brutalities of real warfare, it is a thought-provoking site to visit.

Belchite is a ghost town that was devastated during Spain’s Civil War. When the battle of Belchite was over, rather than rebuild the town, Franco forced the inhabitants to move and start a new village next door. The old town was to be left so that the destroyed buildings can stand as a reminder to the power of Nationalism and his armies.

Until recently, Belchite was open for people to wander freely and explore as they like, but after spates of vandalism, it was decided to restrict access and allow entry with official guided tours.

A bit of history on Bechite

The Spanish Civil War had already been raging for a little over a year when the battle of Belchite took place. On one side you had the Republicans, who were loyal to the Second Spanish Republic and technically in control of Spain, and on the other side, you had the Nationalists, a military uprising controlled by General Franco.

In the late summer of 1937, the war reached Belchite. The heavily fortified settlement was held by the Nationalist army, and while Belcite didn’t offer much strategically, the Republicans saw that taking the town would be a big win in the propaganda war and hopefully relieve pressure on the Republican troops being pushed back on the Northern border of Spain.

On the 24th August 1937, the Republican army laid siege to the town, cutting off water supplies while the community was bombarded by shells from the surrounding hills. The British Airforce supported the bombing from the air, and a small American brigade supported the ground troops.

Stories were coming out of the town about the number of people that were dying, and as casualties began to stack up at an astonishing rate, there was no time for burial. Due to the intense summer heat, the bodies started to decompose quickly so the town defenders dug a giant mass grave where they would burn bodies, up to 80 at a time.

Despite the lack of food, water, and the terrible conditions, the Nationalist forces held out as long as they could until the Republicans finally stormed the town. The fighting was fierce and ruthless with street-to-street and house-to-house combat until the town eventually fell on the 7th September 1937.

While the number of deaths wasn’t recorded officially, the estimates have it somewhere between 3000 – 5000. Considering the population of the town was around 3000 at the time, that’s a significant number.

While the Republicans won the battle, in time, they lost the war, and Belchite reconquered by Franco’s forces in 1938.

Rather than rebuild the town, Franco ordered that the now-razed buildings and streets remain untouched as a monument of the war and a reminder of the “irresistibility of the Nationalist forces.” 

A new Belchite village was built a couple of hundred meters away from the ruins of the old.

Our Belchite tour

We took the afternoon tour having turned up to buy the morning ticket only to discover it surprisingly, was sold out. We weren’t visiting at peak times, we just assumed we could turn up and go.

This left us with a few hours to kill in new Belchite, they were a long few hours. Despite the historic site next door, there is very little in new Belchite to hold your interest. We purchased a couple of bocadillos (big sandwiches) at a local bar and then found a quiet spot to eat them.

The spot we found was down a quiet country road on the edge of town, it offered a great view over the expansive nothing that surrounds the village. It’s a rolling, arid landscape that shows signs of years of erosion and not much else. While it was strangely pretty in its own right, it wouldn’t go down as one of my best lunchtime views.

After our lunch we found another bar to sit in and have a coffee before it was finally time for us to head up to the old town and start our tour.

Large wooden gates mark the entrance to the old town with a sculpture in the shape of the words “Memoria y Paz,” Memory and Peace. A man stood in historical costume posed for photos with visitors as they waited for the tour guide to arrive.

I was surprised at the size of our group, there were around 30 of us that took the tour.

As the guide opened the doors, she started with some basic safety notes and upon realizing I was English, produced a small MP3 player that plays a translated recording of the tour.

After some scene-setting and photo posing with the canon that sits, ominously pointing up the main street, we were underway. The Spanish seemed engaged in the stories the guide was relaying, her grandparents actually lived in the old town and managed to escape.

Being on the translated version was a little strange, a lot of what I was listening to actually beared no resemblance to what was being said by the guide, moving at very different speeds, the fact it was in a thick English west country accent, gave it a surreal twist. But I didn’t mind, it left me free to wander and take photos.

The tour led up the main street past the remains of builds that sat mostly untouched since the reconquest of Belchite. You could see through the houses into what once were stairwells and bathrooms, the walls still tiled.

As we made our way to the old town square, we came across the Cross of the Fallen. The large iron monument was forged by Republican prisoners in the concentration camp built in Belchite after the war. It was the same prisoners who also began the construction of the new town.

The cross now sits on the site where the pit that hundreds of those killed on both sides during the battle were incinerated.

My personal, digital guide spoke of the battle, how it raged, it talked about the burning of bodies and what it was like to live under a siege as we looked up at the clock tower with its large hole where the clock used to sit. 

At the end of the main street is the Iglesia de San Martín de Tours, the steeple defiantly standing despite the multitude of scars that blanket the bricks. On the doors some haunting words are painted, “Pueblo viejo de Belchite ya note rondan zagales ya no seoiran Las jotas que cantaban nuestro padres.” It translates to “Old village of Belchite, young men won’t come here any more you won’t here las jotas that our parents used to sing.” Las jotas is a traditional type of Spanish song and dance from Zaragoza.

A wander inside will one of the small side chapels will show a hole in one of the roofs where a shell came straight through.

As we turned and headed back to the entrance of the tour, we took a small side street where another tower defies all logic by still standing, an unexploded shell still protrudes from one of the walls. 

In total, the tour lasted for an hour and a half and is an excellent introduction to the Spanish Civil War, one that is often lost in the history books of other countries as it took place just as World War Two was beginning. 

As the tour wound down and we headed out of the old town, there was one last stop. Our guide pointed out the house that her family used to live in. While there wasn’t much left, the moment was undoubtedly a sobering dose of reality to an already shocking look at the past.

Booking our Belchite tour

Belchite Tour Times

I’d recommend booking a day or two in advance to avoid having to spend the afternoon staring out the plains of nothingness while enjoying a hastily made bocadillo.

The tours are at 12 pm and 4 pm between Monday to Thursday, and at 12pm, 4pm and 6pm from Friday to Sunday.

On Friday and Saturday, there are also night tours of Belchite at 10 pm. These focus more on the ghost stories and the macabre history of Belchite rather than the war and battle itself. Certainly one for the brave.

During July and August, there are extra tours. They run Everyday at 12 pm, 5 pm, 7 pm, and 10 pm. 

Tickets to the guided tours can be bought from Belchite tourist information until 30 min before the start of the tour or online. 

For more information, you can visit the Belchite tourism website.

Price for a tour of Belchite

The ticket for the visits during the day is €6 per person; the ticket for the night tour is €10 per person.

How to get to Belchite

Belchite is located around 40 km southeast of Zaragoza, and of course, the easiest way to get there is by car. It should take a little over 30 minutes to get there.

If you don’t have your own vehicle, car rental in Spain is pretty cheap, and you can then use your time more wisely and include a stop in some of the prettier villages in Aragon.

Alternatively, there is the Zaragoza – Belchite bus https://ift.tt/2YGtO8a. If you wanted to achieve the Belchite visit and get back again in one day, you would have to get the first bus out that leaves at 8:45 am and be on the last one back at 3:45 pm. As you will probably work out, this means your only tour option is the 12 pm tour.

The bus costs €5 each way, but as always, if you’re buying online, there is a small service fee and tax, which takes it to €13 return.

Just throwing in here, if there are two of you going, at €26, you are already very close to the price of car hire for one day.

If you were staying there overnight, the bus between Belchite and Zaragoza runs four times per day, leaving from the Central bus station.

If you wanted to do the night ghost tour of Belchite, there is one place to stay in Belchite.  We didn’t do the night tour, but people have told us some great stuff about it. There was even one couple from our group stayed to do the night tour after doing the day tour.

Where to stay in Belchite

There is actually only one option in the village, but fortunately, it’s a pretty nice place and offers excellent value. If you wanted to stay overnight, the Hotel Oleum is probably a great choice.

Places to stay in Zaragoza

Most people visiting Belchite will be doing so from the regions capital city Zaragoza, where there are loads of great places to stay. When we visited, we were in the Hotel Tibur. 

I booked it mainly on location, and it lived up to the reviews that all said pretty much the same thing. Great location but nothing special about the hotel itself.

Would I recommend it? Not really, the redeeming feature was the location with a view over the main square, so if that is important to you and the other options are way more expensive or booked, then yes, go for the Hotel Tibur; otherwise, you can probably find better value elsewhere.

Hotels in Zaragoza

Booking.com

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