#this isn't even accounting for how far their fire can spread

[incendiorum-arch]

          before I get further into how hot io can make there fire, here’s some quick facts to put it into perspective:

a campfire averages ~900F/480C. this, of course, can get much hotter depending on fuel and size.

bodies are cremated at about 1400-1600F/760-870C.

iron melts at 2800F/1538C. the melting point of steel varies depending on the type, but will melt around the same temperature.

3rd degree burns reach the fat layer, and require skin grafts. burns of a higher degree can reach bone and char the skin black.

         the heat of io’s fire is restricted by range and how much power io can pour into it. within the palm of their hands, io can manage upwards of 4000F/2204C. I would, perhaps, put the cutoff at about 4500F/2482C.

         within a five-foot radius, they can create fire at 3400-3800F/1871-2093C.

         within a 10-foot radius: 3000-3300F/1648-1815C.

         within a 25-foot radius: 2,500-2,900F/1371-1593C.

         the standard temperature (io’s either not trying, or their fire has grown so large they can’t feed it like they can smaller amounts) would be 1700-2000F/926-1093C.

[idolindrawer]

Snap

IVE Yujin x Male Reader Smut 3.4k words

I'm not a native English speaker, so some expressions might sound odd. I'm always open to suggestions for improvement.

"Whatever you wish for will come true if you wish for it correctly,” the fortune teller says.

"That's not what I came here for," you say, stubbing out your cigarette in the ashtray with a huff of annoyance. "Don't you have any better advice?"

"This is the best advice I can give you," the fortune teller replies, completely unfazed. "The key is to do it correctly. Wishes need a trigger."

Growing increasingly irritated, you begin snapping your fingers repeatedly to vent your frustration. You came seeking guidance on how to improve your life, but this is a huge disappointment. 

The fortune teller seems oblivious to your anger and says cheerfully, "There you go, use that as your trigger. Whenever you make a wish, snap your fingers."

"This is like throwing 50,000 won down the drain," you sigh in exasperation, grabbing your bag and jacket, ready to leave the fortune teller's tent.

"Well, feel free to go,” the fortune teller says, looking surprised as if he had never met a customer who didn't believe in his words. "But it'll be worth 50,000 won if you give it a try."

Because of that fortune teller, the lunch break was wasted. You hurry along the path to your office, but as usual, you get held up by the traffic lights just 200 meters before. Being late is unavoidable.

While waiting, a bank advertisement on a nearby building catches your eyes. A celebrity girl dressed in the bank's signature green gives you a broad smile. You've seen her in other ads before. Isn't her name An Yujin or something? She must be a member of some idol group. You vaguely recall your niece being a huge fan.

Even when you look back at the red light of the traffic signal, you can’t get her out of your mind. How much did she earn from that bank ad, anyway? She’s probably around twenty, but her bank account must hold far more than my lifetime earnings... Damn it.

Seriously, if I were giving that huge amount of money to a young girl like her, I’d demand a much more provocative ad. I’d have her wear a skirt so short that her underwear can be seen in front of the press and have her shamelessly flaunt her ass to the cameras. Now that would be sure-fire marketing! You snap your fingers idly, indulging in this wicked fantasy of degrading celebrities to satisfy your ego.

Suddenly, someone's shoulder bumps into you from behind, jolting you back to reality. The light is green.

Just before leaving work, you scroll through social media and are stunned. It turns out that the girl from the ad you had seen at your lunch break was involved in a promotional event just a few hundred meters away. Moreover, she was wearing a skirt so short that it was almost revealing her underwear. The innocent young girl from the ad photo, now in a video from just two hours earlier, was dressed as if the whole of Korea had run out of fabric, shamelessly revealing her toned thighs to the gathered crowd. With a playful twirl, she revealed a glimpse of her white underwear covering her buttocks.

You happen to recall the words of that fortune teller: "Whenever you make a wish, snap your fingers." Did I actually snap my fingers? If so, then that fortune teller must have been a true psychic. If, as he said, wishes can really come true, is there anyone who wouldn't wish for something bigger?

Mesmerized by Yujin's legs on the screen, you swallow hard and imagine her sensual image. Tight-dressed Yujin is kissing in the dimly lit hotel room. As her dress is unzipped, black lace lingerie is revealed. Her buttocks are just covered with a bare minimum G-string, which she teasingly lets fall to her ankles, spreading her legs to accept the cock...

You snap your fingers once, forcefully. If this is going to work, the closer to her, the better chances might be. The event should have ended about an hour and a half ago, but is she still there? Hastily gathering your belongings, you clock out and run out of the office building towards the event venue.

The streets around the venue are teeming with people who have gathered information from social media, yet Yujin is nowhere to be seen. Disappointed to find that the event has ended, most people slowly drift into nearby cafes. Some remain standing, visibly dissatisfied, and frantically searching social media for any trace of her.

You open social media, but find it worthless due to the numerous accounts already capitalizing on her popularity and leveraging it to gain attention. “We're selling rare photo cards!” “Try this dating app for guaranteed meet-ups.” #IVE #YUJIN “Click here for an AI-generated celebrity sex tape...” In the sample video, a porn star with Yujin's face, digitally altered and occasionally glitching, kisses a naked man in a hotel room. His hand reaches for the zipper at her back, unzipping it to reveal her skin, which is trimmed with black lace lingerie...

Wait, can this really be the wish come true? The video is eerily close to what I imagined, but if this is it, then it’s a joke taken too far. The fortune teller must have been a fraud after all. Feeling everything is suddenly absurd, you shove your phone into your pocket and start walking toward the station.

Near the venue, the same posters of Yujin that you saw during the day are displayed, her trusting smile reaching out to you. The fortune teller's words echo in your mind: "The key is to do it correctly." What if the fortune teller was a genuine psychic, and the way to wish was wrong? The first wish came true, after all, and her sex was pulled off even in a rubbish way. It might be too early to conclude that he is a fake psychic.

There could be several reasons for the failure, but simply imagining her sex scene wasn't enough. That is, it requires imagining myself having sex with her. As vividly as possible, the feel of her body, myself slipping in between her legs...

You imagine carefully, snapping your fingers. Fate should take care of the rest. If this doesn't work, tomorrow I'll storm back to that fortune teller and demand my money back.

Before catching the train at the station, you detour slightly to use the public restroom. Using this station over 250 days a year, you know exactly where to find the always empty and relatively clean toilets.

You finish your business, wash your hands carelessly, and as you lift your head to see a tall girl staring at you from the mirror. Her white skirt is so short that her underwear is almost visible.

"An Yujin...ssi?"

It's definitely her. She's wearing the same outfit she had on at the daytime event, her arms crossed, looking slightly displeased at you.

"Why are you here?" you ask timidly. 

"Isn't this what you wanted?" With that, Yujin strides towards you, her hand reaching for the belt of your pants without hesitation. "Let's get this over with." 

Intimidated by the girl's boldness, you calmly scan the surroundings to ensure it’s safe, then guide her by the arm into the cleanest stall you can find.

"Are you the real An Yujin?" You whisper, keeping your voice low to avoid being heard. 

"There's another me?" She glances at you exasperatedly, then returns to dealing with your pants. With the same detachment as unlocking a door, she unbuckles your belt, lowers the zipper, and pulls off your pants. Her movements are awkward, but she's completely focused on her task, as if you weren’t even there, and that annoys you a little.

Despite her businesslike demeanor, every time her slender fingers brush against your lower body, your cock stiffens with the intimacy of contact you haven't felt in a long time and the anticipation of what's to come.

“But I haven't done anything yet?” Her fingers caress through your underwear, confirming your arousal. Looking satisfied with the heat of your groin, she smiles.

“May I take these off?” Before you can even nod, she’s already crouching down, pulling the waistband of your boxer briefs down to your ankles, revealing you completely.

Yujin remains crouched, staring at your exposed cock with interest. As you glance down, you notice her tight white mini shorts peeking out from under her skirt. Your cock responds to it, twitching with excitement before her eyes.

“You like being watched, huh?” Yujin says with a knowing smile. As she wraps her hand around your cock, giving it a few strokes, she stands up. You, expecting oral sex or something more, are disappointed and surprised. 

“Hey, is that all?”

"I'll do what you wished," she says with a mischievous grin. Then, balancing on her tiptoes and spreading her legs slightly, she holds your cock between the middle of her thighs carefully. "Feel free to move.”

You realize you've messed up again. When you snapped your fingers, you may have been too focused on her legs, and the wish was misinterpreted as thighfuck with her.

“Uh, wait a moment, let me snap my fingers again. This time, I’ll do it right,” you babble in a flustered tone, causing Yujin to look at you with curiosity. “Snap your fingers? What do you mean? Are you already satisfied?”

No way. The wish may have been downgraded, but it's the worst outcome to lose the favorable situation that's already come true. You pull yourself together and direct your full attention on the sensations of her two legs.

Her thighs are curvaceous compared to her slender waist, wrapping around your shaft and transferring her warmth from all directions. As you hold onto her thighs and move your body slowly back and forth, you can feel her bare, soft skin follow together, and the firm muscle layer beneath grips your cock tightly and never releases it.

"Your legs are incredibly gorgeous," you mutter, and for the first time, Yujin looks genuinely embarrassed. It's unclear why this celebrity girl was sent here, but it’s clear that she’s here to provide sexual services to this stranger, so why not make the most of it?

You put your hands on her hips and accelerate the reciprocating motions. As you press your lower body against her legs, the silky surface of her thighs ripples in response. Yujin grips your shoulders to stay balanced, trying to keep steady despite the constant kinetic energy. Your chin rests on her shoulder, and her hair brushes against your face. The sweet scent of her conditioner unexpectedly captivates you.

As sweat beads on your forehead, you wonder why, even though the wish was downgraded, things are still happening that you didn’t expect. Perhaps there’s no rule saying that once a wish is granted in a silly way, nothing else can occur. It might be up to the one who wished to make use of the situation.

To get the most out of the circumstances, you begin to secretly explore the boundary. Slide your hands back on her hips slightly, then cover her ass. There is no indication of her resistance. You knead on Yujin’s tight buttocks and move as if you were thrusting her. It seemed you heard a faint noise leak out of her mouth, but she didn’t stop you.

Then you bring your hands a little bit towards her waist, slipping them under the hem of Yujin’s blouse. Carefully touching her bra in her clothes, your eyes meet hers.

"Can I touch them?"

“Get it done quickly, okay?” Yujin says, looking away. You take that as approval and rub her breasts roughly. She's wearing something like a bandeau bra with no wires underneath her clothing, and you can feel the softness of her breasts even though they’re covered with the bra. But seized by an inevitable urge to see the hardness at the center, you forcefully pull the bra down.

Yujin's breasts are perfectly proportioned, and their distinct curvature and firmness bring a sense of satisfaction. When you touch their smoothness, you’re amazed to see your fingers sinking more than you expected. At the center, a reddish-brown areola the size of a coin surrounds a taut, protruding nipple. You pinch them lightly, then electricity runs through her body. She bashfully covers her mouth with the back of her hand, trying to hide her rough breath.

When you get carried away and go to kiss her, she pulls you away. With her flushed face, she said, “Focus on finishing this” while suffering the pleasure of her upper body.

As you explore Yujin’s youthful body freely, your cock is growing more sensitive and nearing release under the pressure of her thighs. However, your overwhelming passion for the ultimate goal makes it impossible to be satisfied with just releasing your desire between her legs.

“But I wanna be inside you.”

“Just come like this,” she responds bluntly. Expecting this answer, you decided to try another approach.

You stop moving for a moment, pull the hot shaft out from between her legs, lift her hips up, and then push it back in, at a higher position than before, so it can rub against her mini shorts.

“Wait, what are you…” Yujin becomes upset, but when you start moving it, she lets out a small moan. Thrusting your thickness, you can feel the softness of her pussy through the fabric. As you adjust the angle to hit her sweet spot, her hips twitch slightly in response to the pleasure.

Yujin grabs your shoulders and lowers her head, rounding her back to resist the temptation. Although you can't see her face, her shallow, quickened breaths sync with your sensation. You shift one of your hands from her hips to her chest, palming her breast and teasing her nipple with your fingertips.

Her short cry echoes in the empty train station restroom, and both you and she look at each other in surprise. The air feels frozen for a moment, but as you realize there’s no one around to hear it, you both resume the session.

As you gaze into Yujin's eyes, she meets your stare with disheveled hair and a messy face. She is flushed and damp with sweat, and her eyebrows are filled with shame and pleasure. Every time you tease her breasts with a nipple, she bites her lower lip, indicating that your treatment isn’t wrong.

“Keep going,” Yujin murmured with words that were neither order nor plea, revealing her desperate need for ecstasy. You see this as an opportunity to negotiate with her in the heat of the moment.

"After I get it into you," you say clearly, and Yujin seems unsure of how to respond, looking confused. The wish granted you fake sex with IVE's Yujin, but if you want anything more, you’ll have to achieve it on your own. So, does this mean that the An Yujin in front of you is genuinely struggling with whether or not to accept your cock, regardless of the power of the wish?

You think the last push is necessary and sneak your hand inside her shorts, searching for her clit. Her pussy is already soaking wet, and as you slide your fingers on her sensitive skin, which is coated with lube, unbearable pleasure spreads throughout her body. Yujin lets out a muffled moan, and she hugs your neck to keep herself from collapsing. Finally, she gives in and says, "Okay, okay.”

She looks at you awkwardly, pinches the waistband of her shorts, and then lowers them with a polite gesture. As she lifts her leg and removes the high heels from her shorts, you catch a glimpse of her completely shaved pussy. With a hand on the stall door, she turns around and slightly lifts her skirt, presenting her buttocks to you.

"Oppa, hurry up.”

Her curt tone sounded like a cheap whore, which rather turned you on. You place your cock against her wet labia and press gently. You are permitted to enter through her moist skin and proceed into her feverish depth. As your head glides along with her mucus walls, she groans in sensation. Retracing the path, you feel her pussy waves and grips your cock tightly, pulling you back to inside.

While you teasingly savor her insides, Yujin gestures with her sweaty hand to thrust more. You grab her waist roughly and drag her buttocks toward your pelvis. The sounds of skin slapping against skin echo through the empty restroom, her buttocks undulating, and the young idol's unrestrained cries fill the air.

Yujin's breathing becomes irregular and intense as a result of your relentless thrusting. She tries to soften the impact by moving away from you, but the small stall offers no escape. Despite her effort, the insistent slamming continues unabated, and she appears to be on the edge of collapse.

“Oppa, I need a…" She manages to whisper, shaken by the assault from behind. You pretend not to hear her while constantly stirring her pussy. You fiercely grasp the artistic shape of her ass with both hands, thrusting the heated shaft in and out of the lubricated hole in the center.

With one thrust, Yujin rounds her back and convulses her whole body. After a few seconds of trembling, exhaustion overwhelms her, and she’s about to fall. You quickly catch her, turn her around, and sit her down on the lid of the closed toilet.

Her face is flushed red, and she is barely catching her breath. Her nipples move up and down as she breathes, and her legs hang on either side of the toilet, displaying her undressed lower body. The contrast with her cheerful smile in the advertisement is intensely stimulating, but you avoid staring at her to keep her from realizing how she looks now and getting back to reality.

Yujin's inner thighs are glistening with a few streaks of wetness. You take and place them on your shoulders, inserting your still-hot cock from the front. She moans softly and becomes addicted to the sensation of your shaft stretching out her vagina.

As you push your cock through her labia and into her depth, the force causes her breasts to jiggle. You are immersed in the awareness of your movements piercing through her entire body, unable to stop yourself from moving frantically. Instinct guides your hands to her swinging breasts, your lips to her sweat-slicked neck, and then to her lips for a kiss. This time, Yujin doesn’t resist and gives in to your approach. You and this idol caress each other's lips, entwine their tongues, and share the taste of saliva.

Slamming your shaft into Yujin's pussy, you rub her clit with the thumb of one hand a few times. She twists her face and manages to remain silent in a desperate effort, but as the moment of release approaches again, her expression turns into a mix of fear and anticipation.

She presses both hands against her mouth, and after a split-second of weakness, her body trembles with orgasm on the toilet lid. Her inside is spasming around your cock, but you can't stop moving because you feel the dopamine approaching. Thrusting her lube-soaked, fluttering cunt just a few times, hot semen rushes into her depths.

Breathing heavily, you and Yujin watch the cock is pulled out of her pussy, which is glistening with mucus, and the sperm runs out. Yujin's hair is tangled, and she appears fatigued, but there is a strange satisfaction on her face as she looks at the spilled secretions.

As you're wrapping the toilet paper, you hear a few men entering the restroom. Hey, come on. It's gonna take a while to get out. The instant you are distracted by the noise outside, you feel a warm, wet touch on your lower body. Yujin is bending over, eagerly putting your cock into her mouth, and bobbing her head to suck out every last drop of your cum. Surprised, yet unable to resist the seductive sensation of her tongue gliding over your shaft, your cock quickly returns to its earlier state.

"Looks like we can't go out yet," leaving lips from your cock, Yujin whispers teasingly. "There's still time for another round, right?” she says, carefully sitting back down on the toilet lid so as not to make any noise, and spreading her graceful long legs wide.

Damn, it’s really worth 50,000 won.

[kingmagnificoofrosas]

They love you - they would do anything for you!

Words mean nothing if there's no action to prove them true!

The whole statement from the "evil book" - mind you- "bound for all eternity, nothing can break or bind the evil" is a capital B big fat lie!

A dear anon has already mentioned this before here on my blog through an ask. The gullibility of Amaya and the rest of the people of rosas almost hurts. Of course an evil book would tell you there is no way to get out of the dark!

Disney isn't the first and only one who has been spreading the message of "True love breaks evey curse and true love overcomes all. And darkness can never be greater than the light."

From the christian perspective, it's more than clear that everything said by the evil book isn't trustworthy as far as salvation goes! Evil isn't stronger than the good and never will be!

It's also intersting to note that the evil force (green evil magic) is potrayed as this shadow entity 👇🏼

Also, why trust the words of something that literally does nothing but evil and harm?

Even if we look at the whole Magnifico situation purely objectively, like my cousins daughter, not through the lense of faith and leaving the knowledge of trauma aside, the "He's a villain now and can't be saved" is utter nonsense!

The first half of the movie we are told and shown Magnifico's true intentions. His ambitions and desires. We saw him being genuine all the way. He's always been honest and kind. He never lied, played or manipultated anyone and even further explained multiple times how he feels and why he does what he does. And then we are shown "the book" the big bad thing that will defenitly do harm and take posession of Magnifico should he use it!

That's the information! If Magnifico uses the book, he will be "controlled" by the evil from this book! This is what even Amaya said! Plain and clear.

Also, geeky side fact to the orgins of the book : Magnifico didn't get the book himself, nor did he built the evil lair where he later on created his staff. From the art book we know that he found both the book and the evil lair during the renovations. [ He's built his castle on top of an already existing building ] That means, Magnifico didn't even go to pursue such a book. He found it and kept it. Cause we already know why - trauma rooted fear, anxiety, paranoia.

If someone is controlled/posessed by something, it's more than clear that the person isn't at fault for the actions done by the evil in them! Just look at the insane difference!

Oh yeah ... I know a posession by evil if I see one. And in this case, we had the facts served on a silver tray. It's not even a guessing game.

The only thing we can hold Magnifico accountable for is the fact he did reach for the book. But then again, we also need to consider WHY he did. Reason - his trauma! He was terrified!

If the book hadn't been there, believe me, this poor man would have had the worst mental breakdown and we would have probably found him huddled together on the ground suffering out his panic attack.

People don't understand the merry go round of thoughts a traumatized person has. And the emotions that come with it. In a situation as intense as Magnifico's we do have a domino effect. Or a wildfire-effect. One tiny spark on dry grass will eventually lead to a big fire. He was already triggered and highly stressed out, and severly traumatized people oftentimes aren't able to make the best decissions - or decissions at all.

If I think about it - if I had suffered a trauma as intense as Magnifico, already more than burdened with anxiety, fear and paranoia, and then something happens that triggers me immensely, I spend an entire night feverishly searching for an answer or solution, no sleep, no food, immense stress…. on top of that, no one in the entire kingdom that truly understands me ... Boy, I'd probably freak out and snap too.

The most support he's gotten during his spiral of misery was a pat to the shoulder. Not one single hug, no truly comforting words, a gentle stroke over his cheek, a kiss, truly loving words. That poor man got nothing!

Btw this is a quote from my cousins daughter. And she told it to my face randomly before I could even say anything! She said "You know, Magnifico isn't bad. The book is. He only wanted to protect everyone but the book made him evil. Bad book!"

And if that wasn't already enough, her younger brother watched the movie as well and then also randomly told me, "Bad book!" Furthermore - I wheezed and cried of laughter, because 1. I didn't expect this and 2. it was absolutely brilliant! - The daughter sat at the table and was drawing again, and then she told me, "The movie ... the magician and the bad book ..." The title she gave WISH! She made Magnifico the protagonist and the evil book the villain! Exactly right!

Anyway, then it happens, everyone KNOWS Magnifico is "controlled/posessed" and yet all of the sudden he himself is the evil? What??

In the past ten decades, disney had always done a fantastic job in displaying true evil and the - true love always wins - message. Even with quite recent movies such as Tangled, Frozen, Encanto etc. We've been introduced to the trauma topic and that "antagonists" can and should be saved.

I mean, I'm absolutely glad that we got Magnifico the way we got him, but I'm enraged about the toxic stance toward trauma.

If I'm looking at what disney did in the tangled series with Varian and Cassandra, who both had a short time period where they've been pushed down the "villain" road by trauma and by the hurt of not feeling valued, seen, heard or treated right and how this got resolved, I can only shake my head at what disney did in Wish.

Cassandra as much as Varian in fact- especially Cassandra- threatened the whole kingdom and also strived to hurt Rapunzel more than just once.

And she wasn't directly posessed by evil but heavily manipulated and blinded by it. All her "Evil actions" were completelty on her! And Rapunzel stressed that no matter what, she'll never give up on Cassandra. Why? Because she truly loved her! Because she knew that this evil wasn't who she truly is.

Rapunzel said "Even when I look at you now, after all that's happened, no matter what we've done to each other, I still see that look in your eyes. You're my best friend, Cassandra, and I will never give up on you!"

Can you imagine what could have been if Amaya and all the citizens of Rosas would have had that attitude towards Magnifico? Truly loving him for who he is and not only seeing him as a source for favours? They all simply didn't care! If they had, they wouldn't have given up on him as quick as the snap of a finger.

So we've seen antagonists and semi-villains getting redeemed before and we've seen the "True love conquers all" more than enough, and now, especially with Magnifico, disney and some ignorant haters want to tell us that this isn't what could have happened to Magnifico too?

It's ridiculous!

And the citizens of Corona forgave both Cassandra and Varian!

Now, once more, the "book" said - nothing can bind the evil magic! Yet this is exactly what happened after the people of Rosas unified and sang! The lights glowing in their chests is actually symbolic for their hearts unifying! It was immediately stronger than the hold of the evil magic, even though the book said, it's untouchable!

The evil magic was bound, "star" was set free and Magnifico pulled into the curse realm. You cannot tell me if they all had done the same thing with the goal in their hearts to free and save Magnifico, that they wouldn't have succeeded.

[crystalelemental]

I can't front.  I hate this one.

General Overview This one's weird, because it's not as though I don't have many EX Fire types.  I have more of them than I do Water types.  But somehow, Fire feels like a nightmare.  I didn't bother trying on Electric, I know that's worse.  But I didn't expect the Fire run to be so...terrible.

Problem 1: Fire supports suck unless they're SS Morty.  Kiawe doesn't do enough in one action, Evelyn is sturdy but not good at survival, while MC Torchic and Marley absolutely suck ass.  Anything above like 300 Strength may as well instantly kill those two.  And my Marley is EX, there is no excuse.

Problem 2: There is like nothing technical in this type.  SS May is a good example.  Like oh good, defense debuffs.  Except there aren't.  They're all single-target, and unless partnered with NC Leaf, she's kind of atrocious at her job.  Anni N is super slow to debuff anything, so even with his Sp Def drops against Kiawe, he can't get to it because oops, too busy having to Noble Roar.  Serena's sleep is borderline useless with Resilience and she's not a good damage dealer, Lodge Irida has a 50% flinch rate instead of 60% and somehow this is noticeable, etc etc etc.

Problem 3: some of these stage conditions are a nightmare.  Removal of 80% sync damage is absurd against Flannery, while Flint's removal of healing is absolutely disastrous.  Debuffs should be the answer to him, but it's not great, because you have only two options to work with.  And guess what.  One of the stages cuts Striker stats, so good luck with that.

Fire just feels like it sucks.  I can't figure out a good means of approaching half of these stages.  I have ideas, but they're clearly not working. This is about as good as I can do without investing more resources, and guess what I don't really want to do.  The supports suck, there's not really any good technical utility, and the stage conditions are nightmarish.  So I feel like this one's particularly rough.

And yet apparently it's not, and I'm just dumb!  I am super far down the ranks despite this score!  Honestly I don't know why.  Outside of the Master rank, sure, I'd buy that.  But down in Great?  You're telling me there's like 40k+ players out there that have performed better than this?  I don't think my Fire roster is lacking, so I admit, I'm legitimately stunned.  It's Challenger Gloria, isn't it?  I didn't get her, I don't like that outfit and don't like Cinderace.  But I'd bet that's a huge part of it.  How absurdly frustrating.

I may try to push a bit higher.  But I'm tempted to stop here just to keep the rounded number of powerup tickets.  Not like I need the Master medal, this is just pride.  And I find myself crankier than I want to be with this, so I'm not exactly keen on it.

Vs. Kiawe (MC Torchic, Anni N, Serena) This is the "Strikers get fucked" match, so I put Anni N here expecting the spread damage to matter.  It doesn't.  Anni N kinda sucks horrifically, you know?  So slow to set up, attack only has 85% accuracy by default, he's too busy.  Serena seemed like a good disruption call, but frankly the spread sleep is terrible.  They all recover simultaneously and it's too much for Torchic, and god forbid Anni N burns.

Vs. Blaine (Kiawe, Leon, Eevee Lucas) This one could be achieved much more easily with investment.  I have no doubt that this would generate a good amount more if I just bit the bullet and invested.  Leon's able to take the sync with Eevee Lucas' Atk debuffs, and his Earthquake/Hurricane combo is supereffective against everything.  But, because Leon and Lucas are 1/5 non-EX, they can only get so far.  If I were really aiming to push the score, this would be the solution.  And who knows, maybe that would fix the godforsaken gauge issues too.

Vs. Flint (Evelyn, Hilda, NC Leaf) No healing is a brutal condition in Fire.  With Anni N accounted for, the only other offense debuffer was NC Leaf.  Without healing, the options for support were Marley or Evelyn, and I went Evelyn for the defensive ability.  I slightly regret it.  Part of my problem here is that Hilda mostly exists just to sync, but truth be told she's not the best pick.  Without healing, all this Potion goes to waste.  But my other options aren't EX either.  I haven't EX'd Ethan, I won't EX SS Red, and I highly doubt Lodge Calem or Blarcanine are going to accomplish anything.  But really, this fight is...bad.  I think it might legitimately be in my best interest to drop Leaf and put in someone else, as Flint also uses Fire-type sync, and it's brutal.  But I can't think of anyone who stands a chance.  The problem with this mode is that it's all bulk.  They deal good damage, you do not, so it's an endurance contest.  Guess what doesn't work in your favor when you can't heal.

Vs. Chili (Marley, SS May, Lodge Irida) SS May really should be better than she is, but here we are.  I tried to get Irida to flinch for some extra turns and boy did that not accomplish shit.  Marley is frail beyond belief, and without debuffs, we're all just corpses in waiting.  Nothing in this fight works in our favor.  I can't even say there's a good SS May approach, since the only possible partner she works well with is NC Leaf.  I could make that shuffle, but it's not great.

Vs. Flannery (SS Morty, Silver, SS Hilda) SS Hilda deals great DPS, and that's really the aim here.  Flannery syncs Rock, which means Sun does little for her.  Silver can take every sync after first, since the damage won't matter, while Hilda beats everyone down.  Problem: spread damage from Searing Shot is required.  V-Create will not get the job done, and you will not have a good time against full HP sides.  Even with his bulk, Morty can only accomplish so much when the strength values start flying.  I honestly hate it.

Final Thoughts I think I'm legitimately mad about this one.  I have more EX Fire types than Water, but Water had nearly 80k more points out of this event.  I held Master rank with Water.  I don't even like Water.  I like Fire.  I was kinda looking forward to trying this one.  But I think I hate it now.

This is an excellent showcasing of how badly you need good supports.  Water thrived because it's got plenty of great support options to choose from, while Fire here is a nightmare.  While I admit I could push score pretty dramatically with the right investment, I don't really want to do that.  I don't care to invest in Leon, SS Red, and Eevee Lucas, just for this.  I don't want to use my candy on this.  So this is probably right where I'm staying.  Which annoys me.  I feel like I should be able to do better, but I don't think I want to try.

[rhysismydaddy]

Prisoner's Game Pt. 1 (Rowaelin)

Synopsis: Aelin Galathynius never thought of herself as a vengeful woman. Until her boyfriend not only testifies, but leads a case against her that lands her in prison for the rest of her life. Post I-Love-You's. He didn't believe her, and she's about to show him that not only is she innocent, he made the worst mistake of his life betting against her. To a woman with nothing but time, life's just a game, after all.

The cinderblock wall dug into her back uncomfortably as she reclined against it, the air in the room was stale, and she hadn't showered in two days. By any measurement, Aelin Galathynius was far from her best.

And yet she somehow managed to look perfectly at ease--happy even--as she lounged in her cell, toying with the ends of her too-long hair.

It was a ruse, of course, just a little trick to piss off the man currently stomping into her space. By the flare of Rowan Whitehorn's eyes, it worked.

"Hello, Rowan," she greeted pleasantly, giving him a little smile and acting like it wasn't taking everything in her not to use the makeshift knife under her pillow to gut him like the spineless coward he was.

She could tell, even across her 8x12 cell, that he was gritting his teeth and fighting a similar action.

The heel of his expensive Italian loafers clicked as he walked across the space to the small table and took a seat at the steel chair in front of it. He tried to push it out further, but stopped when he realized it was bolted to the floor.

"Aelin," he said back, none of the so-obvious anger he was feeling present in his voice. "Been a long time."

Eight years, six months, three weeks, two days, and thirteen hours.

Not that she was counting or anything.

She nodded her agreement, reclining further on the bed and crossing her legs as if she was in the finest dress she owned, not a faded orange jumpsuit.

"What brings you to my side of town, Rowan? Here to finally switch sides and represent me?"

Dressed in a two-thousand dollar suit and tie, hair perfectly gelled back, he looked like he was successful a lawyer meeting with a wealthy client, but they both knew the last thing he'd ever do was work for her.

"You know why I'm here."

She did indeed, but she still said, "I must be exceptionally smart to know why you've come all the way here-"

"Cut the shit," he snapped, finally losing a bit of his cool. He regained it quickly, though, and continued, "I want to know how you did it."

She frowned at her split ends. "Did what?"

Rowan waited until she looked at him to respond. "You know what."

Sighing so deeply it should've rattled the walls, she said, "I can't believe I've spent the last eight years thinking you underestimated my intelligence. You clearly think I'm some sort of oracle genius."

Rowan mimicked her sigh, and she bit her lip to stifle a laugh.

Probably trying to stall, he spent a moment looking at her cell, at the completely bare walls and lack of photographs. All she had was the tally marks drawn in pencil on one wall and a dusty chess set sitting on the table.

When he'd taken inventory of those two things, he sat and just looked at her.

It was clear she wouldn't admit to knowing exactly why he sat in front of her, and he was simply putting off being the one to fold.

Predictable, proud little man.

Eventually, he took his loss and said, "I want to know how you managed to rob me from inside the most secure prison in Rifthold."

She smiled, a full, undulated smile she hadn't used in a long time.

She'd been planning this moment since the day the bars had locked behind her, and it felt damn good to finally see it come to fruition.

According to what she'd heard, definitely not what she knew from personal experience, the private vault in Rowan's apartment had been broken into. Apparently, only one thing was missing: an antique dagger that had been handed down in the family and was now worth over a million bucks.

"Why do you think it was me?" she asked, still smiling.

He gritted his teeth some more, and she internally snickered at the idea he'd have permanent tooth damage because of her. Something else to remember her by.

Green eyes spitting flames at her, he growled, "You left a goddamn business card."

Aelin forced her eyes up to the empty bed above her head, trying her hardest not to laugh. "Maybe I'm being framed?"

"Your fingerprints were on it."

She did laugh then, then laughed some more when his eyes narrowed. He looked like he was about to strangle her. "Rowan, in case you haven't noticed, I'm incarcerated."

She gestured around them to her cell to prove her point.

The bastard just smiled.

Of course he knows that, she thought bitterly, forcing her hand back to her lap and away from where it'd started to creep toward the pillow.

"So how would I rob you?" she asked, getting her mind back on track.

"That's what you're going to tell me," he demanded angrily. "I want to know how you got out of here, got all the way across Rifthold, broke into my apartment, and stole from me without any surveillance camera picking it up."

Aelin ran a hand through her hair, fluffing it just right. When she caught sight of the impatience on his face, she fluffed it some more and readjusted the thin jacket on her shoulders.

It was always too damn cold in this place. She hadn't been warm in almost nine years.

Because of him.

Just for that, she fluffed her hair some more.

Then she said simply, "I didn't."

"Stop lying!" he shouted at her, eyes flashing.

She wasn't, but that was besides the point.

"Fine." She rolled her eyes like he'd won. "I got my cousin to-"

"Aedion spent the night in Wendlyn. His travel is verified, and there are at least a hundred eye witnesses that witnessed him singing karaoke all night. Stop. Fucking. Lying."

Once again, she wasn't lying.

Aedion sure as hell hadn't been in Wendlyn last night. She'd just wanted to make sure his alibi was air-tight as planned.

Sighing again, she asked, "Rowan, even if I did do it, why the hell would I tell you about it?"

His jaw worked for a moment, and she could tell whatever he was about to say was difficult for him. "I'll get time off your sentence if you tell me what you've done with it."

She tried not to laugh, but she couldn't help it.

It burst out of her, full and uncontrollable, and she flopped over on the dirty mattress and howled for a good few minutes.

He glared at her, looking for all the world like he was experiencing a portion of the rage she was made of, but regardless of the threat in his eyes, she took her time composing herself.

"I'm serving ten consecutive life sentences, you idiot."

One for each and every one of her "victims."

"I'll make it nine," he offered generously.

"Even if I was a cat, that'd still leave me dying in a prison cell. Offer me something else."

He just glared at her, unwilling to give her anything she could actually use or want. Just like she'd expected.

"That's what I thought. So no, Rowan Whitehorn, I'm not accepting your little deal. You can think I robbed you all you want; hell, you can even know, in your famous gut, that I did it." She tilted her head, a cruel smile filling her lips. "But it isn't about what you believe, it's about what you can prove. Isn't that right?"

His eyes shuttered at the words, and just like that, they were sucked into the memory of all those years ago.

~Eight years ago~

~Rowan~

Rowan rolled over, edging away from the woman next to him carefully as to not wake her.

Her hair was spread out on his chest, her soft hand was on his stomach, and her leg was draped over his. By all accounts, she was all over him.

And it felt so fucking good.

He'd never met anyone like Aelin before. Anyone so full of life, so hilariously open.

It was like she was constantly on fire, flitting from one place to the next with endless energy and jabs about him being too old and slow.

"What are you going?" she murmured, nails digging in slightly to keep him where he was.

"To get some water. Go back to sleep."

He leaned down and kissed her brow, and she sighed happily and rolled over. Like a total cliché, he watched her sleep for a moment, trying to get his feelings under control.

They'd been seeing each other for less than a year, but he couldn't imagine his life without her. He was in love with her, and if the way she acted and smiled around him was any indication, she loved him, too.

He ran a thumb over her cheekbone, smiling when she tilted her face into his touch.

He was whipped, and he didn't even care.

Rowan shook his head at himself, pulled on a pair of boxers, padded to the kitchen, and held a glass under the faucet.

Then frowned as it sputtered.

He figured he'd at least make himself useful, knowing damn well she would never agree to call the plumber when she could "figure out how to fix it herself on Youtube."

So he knelt down in her kitchen and opened the cabinet door, trying to see what the problem with the pipe was.

Except he never got that far.

His eyes got stuck on the piece of paper sticking out under a false piece of wood covering the back panel.

Knowing it was wrong to pry but somehow unable to stop himself, he tugged the paper loose.

Then fell backwards to his ass, heart hammering and brain spinning as he read it over and over again.

The list of names wasn't long, but all ten of the people on it were highly distinguished members of society.

And they were all dead.

He wouldn't know that, since the death of the last person on the list wasn't even public record yet, but he was the attorney working with the police to find the killer.

Why did she have this list?

And what did the numbers next to the names mean?

One way or another, he knew he had to find out. He also knew he couldn't ask her. He was in too deep, too unbiased to know whether or not she was lying.

He didn't trust himself with her, so he'd have to go the traditional route.

He took a picture of the paper quickly, tucking it back where he'd found it. He snuck back in the room to get dressed, leaving her a note he had to go to work.

He thought he was going to be sick as he left her apartment, a feeling suspiciously similar to dread coiling in his stomach.

There was only one way she could know that last name, only one explanation that made sense.

But he had to know for sure. Had to know if he'd been an idiot this past year; an idiot who'd spent almost every night sleeping next to the killer he'd been searching for.

So he started investigating his girlfriend.

Six days later, he found the security deposit boxes and the murder weapons inside, still covered in dried blood that would be matched to the victims. All with Aelin's prints on them.

Two days after that, the woman he'd thought was the love of his life was arrested on ten counts of murder.

Despite the tears she shed, despite the promises she made to him, despite the love she claimed to have for him, Rowan told the cops everything.

Even though he couldn't imagine her killing anyone.

"It doesn't matter what I believe, it matters what I can prove."

That was the last thing he'd said to her, right as she was being dragged out of the court room and yelling at him to believe her.

The truth of the matter was that when it came down to it, he didn't trust her enough. The facts were against her, everyone on the jury had been against her, and in the end, Rowan was too.

~Present~

~Aelin~

Rowan shook his head, almost like he needed to clear it from the memory they'd obviously both been immersed in, and she smiled.

She hoped what happened all those years ago still haunted him, hoped he went to sleep at night thinking about her and the betrayal he'd served to her on a silver platter.

The first year of her sentence, she was so lost in emotion--in the rage and confusion and deep, deep hurt--that she couldn't bring herself to do anything.

He hadn't even bothered to ask her first. That's what had hurt the worst.

He'd seen that stupid, stupid list and had jumped to the first conclusion possible.

She knew it had looked bad, had looked like she was guilty, but she'd thought that if the worst happened, he'd at least ask her to explain before slapping the cuffs on her.

But he hadn't. She'd gone to prison, and his career had exploded into stardom from the success of the case.

"See, Rowan, when you refused to accept any other explanation other than the easy one, you made a mistake. Because I didn't kill those people."

He rolled his eyes. "Aelin-"

"And I'm not only going to prove it," she continued as if he hadn't spoken, "I'm going to ruin your precious little life while I do it. Just like you did mine."

She stood, put a hand on the steel table, and leaned over him.

"If you want it to stop, all you have to do is drop these bullshit murder charges and issue a public apology for locking me up in the first place."

He stood too, so close his loafers brushed the toe of her dusty, prison issued sneakers.

"That's never going to happen," he promised, voice uncompromising and angry.

Aelin smiled, having predicted his reaction down to the facial expression.

His pride, she'd decided, would be the first thing to go.

She reached around him to slide the pawn on the chess board forward, leaned in even further, and whispered, "Let the game begin, then."

~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2

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[crovatian]

it’s time to talk.

hi, hello

i usually don't do stuff like that, because i prefer to exclude politics and real life problems from my "funny haha" hobbies, but, you know, sometimes things ought to change

i'm from russia and i would like to add my miniscule and insignificant word to the boiling pot of the current situation

i hate it.

i hate the war, i hate the government, i hate how it treats us, them and the world itself; i also hate the world, because its reaction to the actions of our government was to blame and punish our people, to punish those who can do nothing

the argument that i hear too often is —

russian people didn't do anything to stop this.

i'm sorry, but the truth is — we couldn't do anything

i remember growing up in early 2000's and hearing about wars that were far, but somewhat close to me and my country — Afghanistan war, Macedonian insurgency, Chechen wars, Yugoslav wars and thing like that

back then it seemed so... ephemeral, while this things were happening, i thought it's become history already; it was weird and scary, but somehow i felt safe — because we had the president who was fun, and fair, and brave, and strong, and he would protect us, and be good to us, no matter what

but then i grew up.

said president made laws, made strange arrangements, made people upset; but still, he was riding a horse shirtless and he was gifting other government officials big fluffy cats, and it all seemed fine

but i was 19 years old by this point, and we still had the same president, and he was getting older, and our country's reputation was getting worse

when you're saying that russian people should've protested against him, you don't really understand what that means to us: we protested, we tried, we were angry and we were speaking up for the last eight years and it all lead to nothing; russia is a big country and it has no shortage of prisons — and they can fill it up pretty quickly

if a police officer kills someone in usa, they will be judged, prosecuted, fired and imprisoned, probably; if a police officer kills someone in russia, they will be slapped on their wrist and maybe, just maybe, fired

when you have a president who used to be a part of KGB, you know that national guard and police will be at his side — and their actions won't have any consequence for them

we can't just go out on the streets and protest because we will be beaten up and our voices won't be heard; i have several friends who used to be very active during 2016-2018, but they were punished for their activities and now they are just extremely apathetic citizens who want to have nothing with politics — they just want to live their lives, they want to see their old years

our older generation has adopted the policy of "we lived through even worse times"; they won't take action, because they think that it's fine, everything will come back to normal, as usual, and we just need to wait patiently and keep our heads close to the ground; we lived through something similar starting from 1920's to 1950′s, and now it’s back in 2022, amazing.

also, my mother won't allow me to go out on the days of mass protests these days, and i am 24

i work at one of the oldest universities in the country, and my bosses make me go through students social network accounts to make sure said students won't spread "dangerous and unwanted" information; students who post something "bad" will be invited to a talk, during which they would discover an unpaid debt or something what will get them expelled — unless they rethink their actions; professors and other staff will be fired without said talk; luckily for them, i'm not a snitch, but that doesn't mean much, because there are forces beyond me

but "other side" isn't all fluff and sparkles either

what is that cancer patients did to europe, so its doctors won't treat sick kids? what is wrong with works of writers who have been dead for ages and, in fact, were sent to prison, because they were against their-time-government? what is the fault of students who just want to study and have a semblance of a somewhat bright future? why would meta allow to harass other people, because of their nationality (i do not support the actions of our military, but i still think it was a very questionable decision on instagram part)?

tell me, why there wasn't the same amount of backlash during Vietnam war or war in Afghanistan that lasted for the last 20 years or Yugoslavian "humanitarian aid" or during recent withdraw of usa army from Syria?

i'm tired; sure, my house isn't bombed (although i was evacuated thrice already from a mall — because there were messages of hidden bombs) and there are no military people walking outside my room (although i live close enough to military academy, so i can hear them sing national anthem almost every morning) —

but my country is falling apart, my parents think that this is the right thing to do, we do have relatives in ukraine and half of the world thinks that every russian person supports the war and they must be shot on sight

what i'm trying to say is we should not be at each other’s throats right now; the more we fight, the less human we get

i didn't want this war, none of us did.

[echo-three-one]

Whatever It Takes

Alex relives the old days as he single-handedly embarks on a mission to help local German Militia regain their village from the hands of Augustus. But he seemed a little distracted. I wonder why.

Previous Chapter : Roach - A Walk to Remember

Chapter 7 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

"Just Like Old Times"

"Alex"

Task Force 141

1 km East of A Local Militia Settlement, Germany

"Guten Morgen. Hallo." Alex muttered as the plane slowly descended toward his drop off area. He was readying his accent for the negotiation. A few more walks and he'll be on potential enemy territory or ally territory, depending how well he seals the deal. For the whole duration of the flight, he cleared his head on Samantha, how she has no clue about him, and focused on his new task. He was confident he'd get this one right, as this was his playing field. The CIA days were almost nostalgic as he plopped his metal foot on the ground and signaled the chopper goodbye.

Leading small armies to help create forces to counter terrorism. That was his role in the Special Activities Division of the CIA. He was Kate Laswell's favorite when it comes to these kinds of activities and he's confident enough that he could convince them to fight.

The walk was long and quiet, no one was around, most of Alex's trails were just forest upon forest upon forest. He started heading to the sound of the water, and immediately spotted four men, armed and possibly his ticket inside the settlement. Taking a deep breath he emerged from the forest and greeted the gentlemen.

"Hello. Does anyone here know anyone named Blitz?" Alex asked in fluent german. The four of them pointed their guns directly at him and he quickly dropped his bag and raised his hands showing surrender.

"No no. I'm here to help." He kicked the bag as it started to pour out heavy grenadier weapons and bullets. One of them grabbed a radio and called the base.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"Call me Alex." he replied with a grin. The next thing he knew is that he was being tied and escorted to the village. He didn't mind, it's always normal for them to be cautious, especially when facing an unknown person.

They trod the dense forestry until they got to a small settlement buzzing with activity.

Alex found himself seated on a small wooden table, his bag of weapons in front of him while Blitz slowly stepped out of the shadows. Blitz was the leader of the said settlement. He has a pale white skin and almost bald hair, his brethren surrounded him, guns pointed at Alex.

"What brings you to this little town, Alex?" he asked. 

"Augustus." he replied confidently, all the other brothers whispered with each other.

"Shhh!" he silenced the group. "What about him?"

"I want answers from him and I need your help." 

~

Alex took a sip of their popular soup recipe, they were all gathered by the campfire outside but Blitz wanted to talk to him in private.

"Augustus, has done a lot of bad things in our village. He has slaughtered our animals, stolen some of our men and worst of all, he took away our village." he frowned.

"My wife and kids, they are still there… He's using them as shields so your heavy weapons have no use to win them back." he pushed the bag back to him.

"I still have friends who can help. If you're willing to lend us your strength." Blitz looked concerned at Alex's eagerness.

"Tell me, why do you want this Augustus man so bad?" he asked, his eyes reflected the little burn they had on their campfire.

"He's our only hope to save a lot of people," he replied.

"Good. Join us later for our plans. If we are able to evacuate my people, we can have time to play with your toys." he smiled and Alex nodded. Tomorrow, the 141 is going to have Augustus for interrogation.

~

"Don't get your hopes too high, Alex. I don't want to live waiting for uncertainty. I'm done with that." Samantha's words hit him like a brick. Alex peeked at the scope and took a general sweep of the view looking for possible hostiles. It's been months since they last met and if she's true to her word and lives a normal life, she must have someone else looking for her right now, someone else she currently loves and he just had to suck it up when his suspicions were to be true.

He had his chance to tell her everything back at the infirmary but seeing her smile like that made him hesitate. Bringing back memories of him would just cause him pain, like what Maxine felt when she heard her name. And he didn't want her hurt, he just wanted her back.

He started to crumple her letter as he fished it from his pocket. It was inside the ziploc he had to protect from the rain, but now he just wanted to forget. He had been hurt many times in the past days that he couldn't handle facing her anymore. The feeling that he isn't reciprocated the way he expected was pushing him down.

'Don't you dare forget about me.' he sighed. 

He wished it would be the same as last time. She rejected him at first but convinced herself to give him a chance the next day, but even with Maxine badgering her about him, it didn't seem to work.

"There they go Alex. The 6 am supply drop." Blitz whispered over comms. The plan was easy: Augustus supplies a lot of boxes to the base. They contain food and weapons stolen from farms or delivered to them from their higher leaders. This is the opening where most of their forces carry boxes, Anja, Blitz's wife, would lead all their members to a small tunnel they built in cases of invasion. Once everyone is out and accounted for, we will barge in and surround them, taking back what's rightfully theirs.

It's also important that most forces will focus on the northern ridge as that was the place where they came from before they invaded, and Blitz believes that a bigger base is situated there. Alex quickly relays this intel to the Task Force and reconnaissance has since begun.

"Ready, Alex?" Blitz asked one last time, holding their guns.

"Let's go." he said as they slowly creeped towards the entrance.

Alex's fingers gently felt the trigger through his gloves, he was alone with new found friends and he's not going to let Augustus slide past his hands. This has to end now. For Samantha.

For Samantha, who doesn't recognize him anymore, those days in Brazil were Alex's best days as a normal person. He got to experience living full of love for a while and he got into it. He liked the idea.

One huge explosion on an open area inside the settlement. They were smart, they're reclaiming the base so they didn't destroy anything in there. They just set out a warning.

"Alex! These weapons are top-notch!" One of the soldiers he's with roared, dashing across the field and started firing rounds. 

Alex quickly covered himself by an empty barrel, peeking with his sights and firing at the tangos who were defending, slowly pressing themselves inward onto the base.

"Brothers! Let's take back what's rightfully ours!" Blitz yelled in their language, followed by a collective "Ja!" from the men.

Enemies scattered, those with weapons slung on their shoulders immediately retaliated while some of them retreated far back into the village. Alex took note of this and shot runners when he could.

"Brothers, they're going to reinforce themselves with weapons!" Blitz yelled, commanding the rest of the forces to flank, putting pressure on the back exit where most of them could retreat.

"Alex, come with me. Let's get Augustus." The leader commanded and Alex nodded, fighting their way inside the central tent. It was heavily guarded and the duo cautiously made their way in shooting hostiles one barrage of bullets at a time. By the time they made it in a huge chunk of metal caught their attention, it had some sort of satellite components and it hummed dangerously.

Alex and Blitz successfully entered the base but it was Augustus-less, more bad news were reported as their weapons cache was already empty.

"Scheisse!!" Blitz cursed loudly as the village fell quiet. They had won their fight back, but at what cost? Alex consoled the leader and turned to the machine which hummed louder.

"We gotta get out of here!" he yelled, escorting Blitz to the door. But it was too late, the machine whirred and released some sort of small scale EMP blast, forcing their comms to ring in static followed by a loud side effect of ear ringing and minor dizziness.

Alex felt himself drop on the floor, trying his hardest to remove his earpiece. The feeling was mind bending, the ringing didn't stop and it felt piercing straight to the brain, unlike standard military EMP grenades, these lasted longer and rang louder. Whatever this contraption was, he needed it to be destroyed.

With the last of his strength, Alex covered his already bleeding ears and dragged Blitz outside the tent, threw a grenade and hid to safety. It was a slow and steady action but as soon as the machine blasted into pieces, the ringing stopped and everyone started to recover.

The group slowly recovered and got up. Some of Blitz's men began puking as their minds were assaulted by the big machine. If this is one of Nero's big plans, then the team must prepare. Alex still pondered how these blasts weren't familiar on his previous mission and how they could potentially tie to the missing person cases that continued to spread across America.

Alex was afraid of what this thing is capable of and he must report this immediately to the rest of the squad, who he thinks is making their way inside Augustus' base just beyond the mountains behind them.

Next Chapter : Experiment 001

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NOTIFICATION SQUAD, MY BELOVED

[bbq-hawks-wings]

On Hawks' Injuries

Alright, let's get this out of the way.

"His back... It's... gone!"

I may like to act like an intellectual, but no amount of analysing the color of the curtains changes the fact that I'm a married, mother of two, in her mid-twenties fixated on a fictional character from a series aimed at teenagers about superhero high school. The innuendo from Dark Shadow, the implications of what this means for Hawks on a personal and professional level - that shit stings and I might actually cry when this dumpster fire ends up in the anime in a few years.

We won't know about the extent of his injuries until he's been examined by a doctor, but considering how quickly his wings went up (this all happens in seconds which means those flames are extremely hot)...

...We're looking easily at huge patches of third degree burns with first and second scattered across his body. The area most affected is in the center of his back which does not have a lot of soft tissue to insulate before you're getting to very important nerves and organs, and the scar tissue that will likely form in the muscles and skin after healing may leave his movement heavily restricted.

Depending on how gruesome Horikoshi wants to be, Hawks not only will never get his wings back, but he could be looking at significant permanent disability for the rest of his life. This isn't even taking into consideration the acute complications he may face on the road to recovery including fighting off bacterial infections, fluid loss, and his immediate increased risk of hypothermia. Left improperly treated, someone with this level of burn injury faces an agonizing death (though, a quick one after passing out without treatment), and proper treatment would likely require huge amounts of pain medication to make the long road to recovery even bearable. This doesn't even take into account any additional injury he may have sustained when he hit his head after Dark Shadow dropped them off the balcony.

Remembering for a minute that this is a battle Shonen we're talking about, this is an absolute worst case scenario, and this post goes over how it likely won't end up this bad in the narrative, but that doesn't minimize the sheer brutality of the beating he just took. The fact that he only passed out after hitting his head is pretty miraculous in and of itself, but I'll force myself to suspend my amazement a little bit given the nature of the source material.

Let's assume at the very least his wings aren't coming back, and he'll need at least a week with good medical attention and healing quirks to just be able to get out of bed again. What then?

It should always be obvious when I predict the future that it's all speculation because I'm not actually clairvoyant, but you know disclaimer or whatever.

We have some nasty red flags staring us down in regards to where this fight is going right now. Shigaraki is awake. Dabi's words after Tokoyami escapes with Hawks insinuates there's an alternate plan than the MLA had, Gigantomachia is moving, and the tides are quickly turning for the heroes without even all of that. This fight looks like it's about to go south real fast.

If the heroes lose with significant losses - with any amount of death or injury - and with the added knowledge they at least partially relied on young, inexperienced kids to help bolster their numbers in the hopes to end this quickly, by the time Hawks wakes up he'll not only be staring down his own personal loss in the wake but the weight of the guilt of what he'll perceive as his own failure will crush him. I also sincerely believe that worst detail at the end of it will be him knowing he personally killed a good man for nothing to even come of it in the end.

Remembering also that the Hero Public Safety Commission is the one who tasked him with this mission in secret and the fact, again, that they pulled children into this failed fight - I do not believe they will take responsibility. This doesn't even take into account the fact he'll be useless as a hero and that they don't even know the extent of his knowledge of their inner workings which makes him a dangerous potential leak.

What's more, news of Hawks' betrayal of the MLA will spread through the ranks and file into the public consciousness. On every single side Hawks will be the scapegoat while he is fighting for his life from a hospital bed. He'll be in more danger without the fierce protection of trusted friends than he was while deep in enemy territory. If he doesn't have a tribe he can trust to keep him safe, maybe even going as far as to clandestinely steal him away where he can't be found, attempts on his life are not out of the question.

Hawks will have a choice to make - rise up and make some real god-damned change while we're already up to our necks or roll over and let the world come crashing down around him as he sinks into despair. He can either settle for being a symbol of failure or he can take the chance to rebirth himself.

Could Hawks' wings ever come back?

This injury is insinuated to be permanently damaging. Whatever mechanism grafted Hawks' wings to his back and allowed him to control them is implied to be damaged beyond recovery, if not completely gone.

However, given Eri's mere existence it's absolutely possible to rewind that injury. Before the battle began it was insinuated Eri will end up using her power again, perhaps even out of necessity. It's an absolutely broken quirk, to be sure; but running with the idea that at some point her power will be offered to Hawks to let him have his wings back - perhaps it's even her idea - I posit two scenarios:

Hawks accepts and he's given a second chance to be whatever he wants to be. His freedom completely restored to him physically and figuratively, he begins life anew with a zeal and solemn appreciation for life and the people in it because the opportunity to make a full return like this is a one in a million chance he's lucky to have.

Hawks turns her down, at least uncomfortable with the idea of using a child's quirk for his own benefit given his own history, even if she offers it freely with no additional obligation to herself. He takes a moral stand in the moment to say, "It's not your job to fix my mistakes and shortcomings" and lives as an example of accountability and living with the hard choices you've made in life and learning how to be happy despite the loss.

I would personally be happy with either if Horikoshi intends to take either route. It's more than possible neither will happen, but with the Eri angle, I hope the possibility is at least touched upon. Maybe it's a one-shot thing and he chooses to let her restore someone like Mirio instead. Maybe it'll get completely broken and bring back every hero - Hawks, Mirio, Mirko, etc. - perhaps even triggered by her own determination to help in any way she can. We'll have to see. The story can take any number of directions after this, and it's not so much where we're going that has me antsy as much as the wait it'll take to get there.

[thiswasinevitableid]

this isn't off any prompt list but hero/villian indruck where they have a meetcute and both desperately try to keep the other from finding out their alter ego as their relationship gets more and more serious while simultaneously trying to keep their rival away from their seemingly innocent love interest for fear of endangering them

Here you go!

“You win this round, Knight,” The Moth hovers, mechanical wings flapping and smile spreading across his face. The blood trickling down his nose doesn’t faze him in the slightest, “But I’m sure we’ll see each other quite soon.”

He flies off before Duck can grab him, leaving the hero standing, arms crossed (and cross in general), his quiet evening at home ruined by The Moth’s need cause trouble at the Governors Ball.

He’d just gotten to a good part in his book too.

------------------------

“Oh goodness, I’m so sorry!”

Duck looks up as he’s wiping coffee from his lap to find a tall, gangly, angular stranger hurriedly tossing down his bag  to help clean up the spill.

“I’m sorry, I get lost in my thoughts sometimes and oh, darn it all.” In his eagerness to help, the taller man splashes coffee onto this white tank top, giving him a belly splotch that matches the one on Ducks green t-shirt. 

“It’s uh, no big deal, ain’t like I was in my Sunday best and, uh, that ain’t a library book.”

“Oh no your book.” The other man lifts the stained paperback, looks at it sadly, “At least let me buy you a replacement.” He’s holding the book to his chest now, clearly hopeful that Duck will let him make amends.

Between the red-brown eyes, the tousled, silver-dyed hair, and the earnest, odd smile, he has an air of disheveled charm that, at his age, Duck ought to be past finding adorable. 

Instead, he smiles back, “Sure thing. Bookstore  two blocks down oughta have copies, and a little cafe to boot. You let me buy you a replacement drink, I’ll let you buy me a new book. Deal?”

The other man nods, hands flapping, “Yes, that sounds wonderful.”

Duck grins, suddenly excited, before noticing he’s a bit sticky.

“Meet me there in an hour so we can both change?”

“It’s a date.”

--------------------------------------

It’s a date? Agh, of all the ways he could have phrased it, why did his blasted, traitorous mouth choose that one?

He stands awkwardly in one corner of the cafe, hands stuffed into the pockets of his pink and yellow cardigan. Was this too flamboyant? He doesn’t even know if the other man is gay. He supposes he could look into the futures to determine the answer to that, but doing so feels rude. 

This is why he turned to supervillainy in the first place; he’s terrible with people. 

He wishes he’d worn his glasses. They’re technically a tool of his trade, but they make him feel safe. 

“Uh, howdy.” 

He glances up, finds the man from before looking at him. Now that he’s not racked with panic trying to clean up a spill, he has a chance to take in just how much his type the man is. Short, but bear like (”a teddy bear” his mind supplies, unhelpfully), with green eyes and charming, unhurried vibe to him. His drawl does remind him of a certain hero who’s always in his way, but he won’t hold that against him. 

“Buy you a coffee?”

“Yes, please. Ah, um, I guess I should introduce myself; I’m Indrid.”

“Duck” he holds out his hand and Indrid takes it, enjoys the warmth and strength in his grip, “Nice to meet you.”

--------------------------------------

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” Duck tightens Beacon around The Moth, who tears at the blade with his retractable claws. Duck learned about those the hard way, when the villain extended them during one of their first meetings. The slash broke the skin, something rare for Duck on account of his durability. 

“And you have got to come up with some more creative lines, hero.” The Moth snarls, “you have used that one twice before now. Which is also how many times you have forgotten about this.”  The villain throws himself sideways and down with enough force to yank Duck to his knees and loosen his grip. As his sword clatters to the ground, red powder fills his eyes.

“Gah, jesus, not that shit again.” His eyes sting, and as he pats the ground for Beacon he hears the scrape of metal moving away from him. Beacons hilt disappears into the mist, dragged slowly back by The Moth’s foot. 

Duck looks up at him through watering eyes, trying not to breath in the dust. 

“Well, you got me at your mercy. You gonna start gloatin about your evil plans or some shit?”

A light, sharp laugh, “Why would I waste my time in such a way? Oh no, I shall be making off with my prize. And making sure you don’t follow me.”

He raises his foot, and Ducks vision whites out on one side as he crumples. 

He should be more worried about the villain getting away with the schematics for the ApCorps latest government security features. 

Mostly, he’s worried he’ll have a black eye tomorrow. 

------------------------

“Hel-oh goodness, Duck, your eye.” Indrid opens the door a half second before Duck knocks, then quickly cups his cheeks to take a closer look.

“Looks worse than it is, sugar, don’t worry. And, uh, surprise.” He produces a small bouquet of Irises from he behind his back. Indrid beams, taking them with squeak of delight. 

“They’re lovely, but what’s the occasion?” He’s smiling almost like he knows, almost like he just wants to hear him say it. 

“Know, uh, know I said I wanted to take things slow, but I realized we been datin a month I ain’t given you anythin.”

“You bought me coffee that first time. And we have each bought dinner for the other multiple times.” Indrid takes his hand, drawing him inside.  

“I know but, well, kinda wanted to do somethin a little more special.”

“Any time with you is special.” 

Duck snorts, “Cornball.”

Indrid kisses, “I learned from the best.”

-------------------------------------

“What can I say, I learned from the best.” Indrid grins at The Knight, who is currently hanging upside down in an elegantly simple snare. 

“I got the idea from that unpleasant sword of yours. Keep your enemy tied up nice and tight to keep them out of your OW, ow, alright I should have seen that coming.” His glasses are now cracked from the Knight headbutting him.

“I’m impressed you could manage that upside down.”

“Drop these fuckin chains off me and I’ll show you somethin real impressive.”

Indrid tilts his head, “Tempting, but I have a pressing engagement tomorrow morning. Not to mention I need to get this,” he pats the painting he just lifted from the house of a man with a gold toilet, “somewhere safe. Until we meet again.” He offers a mocking salute, and takes flight.

--------------------------------------------

“Again?” Indrid offers, pressed against warm, sweat-tinged expanse of Duck’s chest, his heart beating in time with the rapid rise and fall of Ducks breathing.

“Nope. Not that the body and mind ain’t willin, but the mind and body also got work tomorrow. Damn that felt good.” He usually tops, but with Indrid he’s found it more variable; some nights, like tonight, the other man fucks him into the bed, or over the nearest table, or however far they get before Duck can’t stand waiting anymore. Other nights, Indrid gets on all fours so Duck can fuck him with the strap, drops to his knees before they make it past the entryway, tugging at Duck’s belt buckle with little whimpers. 

“Mmmm, it was magnificent my love.” Indrid goes stone still in his arms as that last syllable flutters in the air.

Duck brushes strands of pale hair from his forehead, “I love you too, ‘Drid.”

His boyfriend flops down in relief, “oh thank goodness that’s the way it went.”

“As if I could feel any other way about you.”

Indrid mutters something that might be “cornball” into his chest, yawns and nestles closer with whisper of “love my teddy bear.”

“Love you too, sugar.”

Shit.

He’s in love with Indrid. 

Bad things happen to superhero love interests. Very bad things. He can’t bear losing him, but no one beside the other members of the Pine Gaurd know his secret identity. He’s not ready to tell him yet. Soon, but not yet. 

Indrid rolls sleepily onto his side and Duck goes with him, turning into the little spoon in his embrace. God, what if an enemy decides to kidnap him, hurt him, just to get to Duck?

Then again, no villain has singled him out, save for one. 

Which he’ll need to deal with that one as soon as he can. 

-------------------------

“Give up while you still can, Moth!” 

“Not a chance.” Indrid hisses back, clutching the gash on his arm from the sword. What has gotten into the Knight today? Usually he only fights Indrid the amount needed to stop whatever crime he’s busy committing. 

Today he’s trying to destroy him. 

He’s been training, that much is clear, he has new moves that Indrid finds difficult to anticipate in a fight, and a fire in his eyes that heightens Indrid’s guard. 

As he flits out of reach of yet another strike, his goal of thievery long forgotten in favor of not getting chopped in half, he tries to determine the source of the change. What would make him fight harder?

Duck. He’d burn this city to the ground, tear every hero in it to pieces, if Duck were in danger. 

He reaches the edge of the building, but before stepping off to safety he turns.

“You win tonight, Knight. But do give that new lover of yours my regards.”

--------------------------------------------

“Hey, Indrid?”

“Yes?” His boyfriend looks up from his sketches. 

“I was wonderin if, uh, if you’d like to go to a  fancier place than normal? Barclay got me an in at La Lune, thought we could go on Friday. There’s, uh, there’s somethin I wanna talk about.”

“Is is a marriage proposal or breaking up with me?”

“What? No!”

Indrid chuckles, “I am teasing. Mostly.” He bounces his eyebrows and Duck rolls his eyes in response. 

“Thought afterwards, might be nice to go out to the park and stargaze, tell you what I need to in private.”

“That sounds lovely, my love.”

------------------------------

The stars are aligning in Indrid’s favor this week. 

Yesterday, when the Knight tried to corner him on his way out of his lair, he took the gamble of getting close, earning him the reward of landing a deep slash on The Knight’s cheek. One he won’t be able to heal by tonight. Whether he’s in his hero get-up or his civilian clothes, Indrid will be able to spot him. 

And tonight, he has it on good authority that the Knight will be appearing in this block of the city.  The same block on which sits La Lune. Indrid can go to dinner with his boyfriend right after removing the biggest threat to said boyfriend. 

He’s perched on the roof of the restaurant, steering clear of the large skylight. His glasses scan the streets, the windows all around him. 

But this is taking longer than anticipated. He hasn’t looked too far into the futures for the night, since his growing romantic side wants whatever Duck tells him to be a true surprise. 

He pulls out his phone, swipes to his conversation with Duck. Beneath the photo of a Scarlet Tanager Duck sent him from his work at the ranger station he types, running behind, will be there shortly after 7.

He receives back, NP, see you soon sugar with a kissy face. 

The minutes tick by, the spring sun setting inch by inch behind the downtown skyline. At 7:05, he peeks through the skylight, spots Duck. He can’t see his face all the way in the mood lighting of the restaurant, but he knows his gait, his profile. 

At 7:30 there is still no sign of his nemesis. He’s been scanning and staring and searching, looking at his phone only once after it buzzes many times. He has four missed calls and five texts

Duck: ETA? Damn, this place is even fancier than I thought. 

Duck: Everything okay? If you’re close, I can order us some appetizers so you don’t got to wait to eat. 

Duck: Can’t wait to see you.

Duck: Are you still coming? Are you okay? 

Duck: Sugar?

That last one comes as he’s reading the others. He peers down through the skylight, sees Duck stare at his phone for a ten count, gnawing his lip. Then he looks up at the sky, eyes shut, as if weighing a decision. 

Indrid’s heart plummets. 

There’s a gash on Duck’s cheek. 

A gash he put there. 

Every coincidence, every strange incident he’d pushed to side, lost in the happiness of their courtship, floods his mind. 

Suddenly, he knows what Duck was going to tell him. 

With shaking fingers, he types,

So sorry, my battery died at the worst of all times, I borrowed a charger from a good samaritan. I’m nearly there. 

It takes him two and a half minutes to descend the building and change into his evening wear that he stashed nearby. 

At three minutes, he’s walking through the doors, Duck jumping up and hugging him before he even makes the table.

“Sorry for, uh, textin so much, I guess I got a bit nervous. Y’know how shit can get here; can be walkin home and suddenly a supervillain is wreckin shit and you’re collateral.”

“I understand.” He takes his seat, Duck relaxing into the chair opposite him, “in fact, my love, I understand a great deal.”

Indrid reaches into his pocket, producing a pair of red glasses. He slips them on, knowing the other diners will think nothing of it. 

“I look familiar, don’t I?”

Duck stares so long, moving so little, that Indrid fears he sent him into some kind of shock. 

“Get out. Now.” Duck’s tone is level, his eyes glinting with threat. 

“Duck, please, I, I want to explain-”

“Out. I ain’t gonna tangle with you tonight, but I don’t wanna see you ever again.”

Wordlessly, Indrid removes the glasses, and walks into the night.

---------------------------------------------

Indrid is out of ideas. 

For the first week after his confession, he searched the futures religiously for any sign that Duck would come after him, would reveal his apartment to the other heroes. 

It never came. 

He hasn’t stolen anything in two months. 

He sent a single apology letter to Duck, doing his best to explain the situation. Watched the futures narrow down to a single one; Duck reading it, then tearing it up. 

He even sent anonymous notes to the Pine Guard, altering them to several oncoming disasters or the kind of supervillainy that has a body count. 

Wounded pride, a loss of purpose, a wave of self-loathing, and a dozen other complexly unpleasant emotions could form the center of his world. 

But it all comes down to one simple feeling: he misses Duck. Misses his smile, his sense of humor, his strange laugh, the safety he felt by his side, and endless list of things stripped from his life by his own actions. 

Which is why it has come to this.

He sets up the camera, and starts recording.

------------------------------------------------

“Hey, Duck, I think you should see this.”

Duck plods into the main control room, where Ned is fiddling with the video feed while Aubrey waves him to sit by her.

“I swear to fuck if it’s that police chief tryin to recruit us again-”

“Nah, Aubrey and I finally got through to him.” Mama tosses out from the corner where she’s busily whittling a wooden duck. 

The screen flickers blue, and then Duck feels the opposing pulls of revulsion and longing as Indrid’s face appears. His glasses are off, but he’s otherwise in his full villain get-up.

“Hello Duck, and, ah, I assume the rest of the Pine Guard. It is fine with me if you all listen in, but this message is ultimately for him.”

Barclay reaches over Ned to hit pause, “Duck?”

“Y’all can stay.”

The video resumes. 

“I have two messages. The first is an apology; not necessarily for the things I have stolen, but for any genuine harm I caused other people, yourselves included. And I apologize once again, and as many more times as you require, Duck, for not telling you the truth sooner. In my defense, there is no easy way to admit to the man you love that you are a supervillain. All the same, I ought to have been brave enough to try, for your sake.” 

Indrid sits up and Duck leans forward. 

“My second message is that I am retiring from supervillainy. I could say something about a change of view on the world in general, but the truth is that villainy is less interesting without an equal to rival and banter with me. And, well, I am sure I can find other ways to fill my days. Especially if the man I care for is by my side. I should be clear that my retirement is not contingent on you reaching out to me again, Duck. Merely that it is something you may wish to know. Ah, I suppose that is all. This is the Moth, signing off for the last time. I’m sorry again, Duck. I love you.”

“Think it’s a bluff?” Aubrey asks as the screen goes dark.

“No, as one who has mastered the art of insincerity, I do not believe so.” Ned responds, switching on the lights.

Duck, for his part, says nothing.

---------------------------------------------------

Indrid rolls off the bed at the knock, rubbing his eyes as he trudges to the door, too tired to look at the futures. 

“How can I…” 

The sight of Duck Newton on his doorstep elicits so many emotions that he short circuits. 

“Hey.”

“Hello.”

“So, retiring huh?”

“Yes.” He fights the urge to chew his nails. 

“Guess that means you’re free to talk right now?”

“Indeed.” He steps back, allowing Duck to step in and shut the door.

“Great, Because we got a lot to talk about. But, uh, first.”

He cups Indrids cheeks, kissing him so lovingly that the former villain melts against him, gripping the front of his ranger jacket the way a falling man grasps at a cliff. 

“I missed you so much.” He whispers, and before he has time to hate the crack in his voice, Duck is kissing him again, guiding him slowly and surely to the couch, murmuring in between kisses.

“Missed you too, so much, goddamn, couldn’t stop thinkin about you, love you so much ‘Drid, wanna make things right, we’re gonna make ‘em right, I promise.”

Indrid glances at the futures, sees that in all of them they do, in fact, end up having a long, serious conversation, one that ends in even softer kisses and Duck curled around him in his bed. 

But there’s still a few more minutes for him to savor being here, safe and secure, in the arms of his hero. 

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

I've only read parts of World of Ice and Fire, but one of the things I liked about it is that wrong or not Maester Yandel isn't just a strawman skeptic and that does give legit reasons for a lot of the stuff he says along with qualifiers like "Maybe whoever inspired the Children of the Forest legends really did know some lost arts that we don't understand like speaking with ravens, but that doesn't mean they had literal magic powers and could summon tidal waves and warg into beasts"

Yeah… I guess he’s not a strawman, but Yandel’s just so blatantly wrong sometimes it’s embarrassing. Like, for example:

It was the children who carved the weirwoods with faces, perhaps to give eyes to their gods so that they might watch their worshippers at their devotions. Others, with little evidence, claim that the greenseers—the wise men of the children—were able to see through the eyes of the carved weirwoods. The supposed proof is the fact that the First Men themselves believed this; it was their fear of the weirwoods spying upon them that drove them to cut down many of the carved trees and weirwood groves, to deny the children such an advantage. Yet the First Men were less learned than we are now, and credited things that their descendants today do not…

Archmaester Fomas’s Lies of the Ancients—though little regarded these days for its erroneous claims regarding the founding of Valyria and certain lineal claims in the Reach and westerlands—does speculate that the Others of legend were nothing more than a tribe of the First Men, ancestors of the wildlings, that had established itself in the far north. Because of the Long Night, these early wildlings were then pressured to begin a wave of conquests to the south. That they became monstrous in the tales told thereafter, according to Fomas, reflects the desire of the Night’s Watch and the Starks to give themselves a more heroic identity as saviors of mankind, and not merely the beneficiaries of a struggle over dominion.

Oh, and there’s this especially fun bit:

Claiming to have consulted with texts said to be preserved at Castle Black, Septon Barth put forth that the children of the forest could speak with ravens and could make them repeat their words. According to Barth, this higher mystery was taught to the First Men by the children so that ravens could spread messages at a great distance. It was passed, in degraded form, down to the maesters today, who no longer know how to speak to the birds. […] Ravens are amongst the cleverest of birds, but they are no wiser than infant children, and considerably less capable of true speech, whatever Septon Barth might have believed.

“It was the singers who taught the First Men to send messages by raven… but in those days, the birds would speak the words. The trees remember, but men forget, and so now they write the messages on parchment and tie them round the feet of birds who have never shared their skin.” –ADWD, Bran II

So, in a world where we know magic exists and the greenseers can see through the eyes of the trees, where we know the Others exist, where we know wargs exist, Yandel just comes off as stupid or deliberately ignorant. I mean, it tells us a lot about the Citadel and how their anti-magic agenda warps even curious and intelligent men into this really obvious blindspot, but it’s… sad. Sadly hilarious sometimes, but still.

And IMO it puts Yandel’s historiography in doubt in general, where how can we really believe that anything he says is true? Sure, often he’s just quoting other sources (like Archmaester Gyldayn’s histories of House Targaryen, and works by other maesters), but how many of those sources are missing magical motivations and magical events because the Citadel censored them or encouraged the writers to dismiss them as nonsense?

Furthermore, it’s not just magical things the maesters censored, but political motivations and events, depending on the whims of who they were writing for. Gyldayn quotes Septon Eustace often re the Dance of the Dragons; but Eustace was on Aegon II’s side, and wrote blatant false propaganda like saying Rhaenyra’s arms and legs were all cut up the first time she sat the Iron Throne… even though she was wearing full armor. How much else of Eustace’s words can we really trust? In addition to this, another source for the history of the Dance was Grand Maester Orwyle, who wrote his account to flatter Rhaenyra to save himself from being executed. Not to mention another major source, Mushroom’s account, which was a deliberately scandalous rag full of debauchery that may not have even been written by Mushroom himself. And to make this even more difficult, sometimes the editing of the history novellas (as published) cut out bits where Gyldayn said he was quoting Eustace or Orwyle or Mushroom, so it’s presented to the reader as straight facts!

And then there’s Yandel himself. According to Elio Garcia, when Robert died, and Ned Stark was arrested and executed for treason and the War of the Five Kings began, Yandel realized his recent history, his accounts of Robert’s Rebellion and the Greyjoy Rebellion, had way too much hero Ned Stark and hero Stannis Baratheon in it. (Robert’s best friend and Robert’s brother, after all.) So he cut them out as much as he could, and rewrote. Paragraphs that originally praised Ned and Stannis for their generalship and their success in battle, were heavily edited to exclude them from the narrative after Joffrey declared them traitors. That leads to a lot of awkwardness in those sections, where some readers may go, “wait, this is missing something”… but unfortunately many readers won’t even realize what Yandel did. TWOIAF is “the untold history of the Game of Thrones”, after all! It’s got be true, right?

Although at least Yandel’s writing to please the king is extremely obvious (and odious) in the section of the Sack of King’s Landing, where he says that Tywin’s men fought “the defenders of King’s Landing” (and doesn’t mention the rape and murder and sacking of the innocent populace), and then goes on to say “it is not known” who murdered Princess Rhaenys and Prince Aegon, and raped and murdered Princess Elia. That Yandel even includes the supposed rumors that Aerys ordered it done, or that Elia murdered her children herself, instead of including any word possibly damning Robert’s father-in-law Tywin… well, that should recognized by all readers, I would hope. (Though considering how much irrational Elia hate there is, I doubt it, alas.)

Basically, Maester Yandel is a very unreliable narrator, and in some places it’s more obvious than others, more or less noticeable by the readers. I mean, it’s excellent worldbuilding, no doubt about that. It certainly deals with the concepts of history being written by the winners, and the problems of conflicting historical sources, and the nature of academia, and everything. But sometimes it still worries me when fans (especially other meta writers) accept these deliberately written-to-be-biased sources in TWOIAF and the history novellas (and eventually Fire and Blood) as absolute truth.

[starttechgq-blog]

At the point when your best simply isn't sufficient: the Kindle Fire HD Purchasing Amazon's 7-inch tablet? Prepare to neglect some flaws.

Amazon handled the principal genuine volley in the 7-inch Android gadget advertise. Certainly, the underlying Kindle Fire was unpleasant around the edges, yet its shockingly low $199 sticker price and combination with Amazon's administrations prevailed upon a couple of (million) customers. Amazon sold huge amounts of Kindle Fires in December 2011, and it wasn't some time before the gadget held the top spot on the Android equipment diagrams.

The Kindle Fire struck us as the ideal tablet-y present for a nearby relative who has been faltering about whether to get an iPad for a long time straight—here's a Kindle Fire, father, now stop messaging me consistently about tablets. Once the blessing giving season had passed, however, what were individuals going to do—get one for themselves? Numerous tablet and Android devotees, maybe predicting the happening to Google's own tablet, the Nexus 7, remained away.

Google didn't simply make a smooth, smart, true blue Jelly Bean tablet; it likewise slapped it with a similar beginning $199 sticker price as the chunkier, languid Kindle Fire. The Nexus 7 left the beginning entryway as a superior iPad contender than the Kindle Fire had any expectation of being, and the race was over practically before it had even started.It was practically uncalled for to look at the Kindle Fire and Nexus 7 by any stretch of the imagination, given that Google unreservedly let it be known was offering the Nexus 7 at cost, if not at a misfortune. Its value point misrepresented the estimation of the item, and Google was (and is) relying on its profound pockets and hearty promoting based plan of action to keep Android's foot in the tablet entryway while other equipment makers endeavor to re-gathering.

Yet, Amazon's story for the Kindle Fire was never all that unique in relation to Google's. The genuine cash wasn't in the low-edge equipment however in the high-edge banana remain of Amazon's administrations and computerized items: applications, music, motion pictures, books, and all the rest. With the declaration of the HD adaptations, Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos made this significantly more express, with numerous notices about the estimation of Amazon's "administrations" and how the Kindle Fire would go about as entry for that substance. With this new round of Kindle Fires, Amazon has concentrated on enhancing those administrations, including things like "X-Ray" to books and motion pictures (an element which consequently distinguishes performers and writers for the media you're as of now review), enhancing parental controls, and offering a huge amount of book recordings. In any case, great administrations independent from anyone else sufficiently aren't to separation it from whatever remains of the ravenous Android pack.

Regardless of Amazon's nearness as an enormous go-to for books and its developing film and music business, in our view the organization was (and still is) thinking little of the significance of the conveyance vector for those administrations—the genuine equipment. The general e-ink Kindles might be no mechanical accomplishment, however they're intended for a solitary assignment, and they're great at it. A tablet ought to be more similar to a clear slate, ready to deal with any of the shifting errands that engineers, the Web, and media can toss at it. Be that as it may, Amazon keeps on impeding Android with its own fork of the OS—a considerably greater wrongdoing than some time recently, since the custom adjustments are all to Ice Cream Sandwich, which will delay, maybe generously, the appropriation of the more current Jelly Bean on the stage.

Assessed all alone, the Kindle Fire is a tolerable tablet. It's not staggeringly simple to utilize, nor is it all that fast. It has no champion resources beside its profound association with the Amazon environment; regardless of whether that is an advantage for you, the client, depends altogether on your engagement and buy history with Amazon. With all that, it achieves a lot of tablet errands satisfactorily enough to legitimize its $199 cost.

Be that as it may, the Kindle Fire can't be assessed simply all alone, in light of the fact that no gadget exists in a vacuum. Google set out the 7-inch tablet law in July, and the Kindle Fire straight does not have the right stuff. More awful, with Apple still anticipated that by many would report a 7-inch-ish tablet of its own soon, the Kindle Fire could well complete a far off third in its cost and size section before the Christmas shopping season even swings into full apparatus.

See, touch, feel

The main Kindle Fire had a much smaller bezel on the long sides than on the short ones, however the Kindle Fire HD rounds the outskirt out all around, as we noted in our underlying hands-on with the gadget. This gives it a chunkier, boxier look than the main Kindle Fire or the Nexus 7. We noticed how convenient and book-like the Nexus 7 felt in our grasp as we bore it; because of its shape, the Kindle Fire HD feels more like an iPad.

At 13.9 ounces it's not substantial, but rather it measures more than the Nexus 7's 12 ounces. On account of the adjusted and rubber treated back, the Kindle Fire HD is more agreeable to hold than its ancestor, the Kindle Fire. The power catch and a volume rocker sit flush with the edge at the highest point of the gadget, between an earphone jack and one of the speakers.Two ports, scaled down HDMI and Micro USB, are planted in the focal point of one long side, while the receiver is installed on the other long side, around the edge from the front-confronting camera. Regardless of whether I hold it in my left or right hand, my thumb appears to discover its way to the spot directly over the camera's focal point; I'd stress that will wind up with a great deal of finger-oil spread on it, as the glass doesn't appear to be especially impervious to prints.

The 1280×800 show, so essential to the marking that "HD" is even in the gadget's name, is an indistinguishable size and determination from the screen in the Nexus 7. What's more, a great screen it is, with fresh content and fine edges to visual components all through the OS. The show utilizes as a part of plane exchanging (IPS) to assist enlarge the survey edges to incredible impact, and there's no observable lighting unevenness along any of the board's edges. We didn't see much contrast in the shading profiles or show of blacks between the Nexus 7 and Kindle Fire HD. In the event that the screens were introduced all alone, we don't know we'd have the capacity to differentiate. The Kindle Fire HD's show is somewhat hotter and brighter at the most noteworthy setting.The Kindle Fire HD's screen additionally has a polarizing channel and "hostile to glare innovation" that Amazon made particular say of amid its introduction. We thought about the Kindle Fire HD and Nexus 7 in direct daylight, and both showcases were impeccably obvious. Whatever new layering procedures or movies Amazon has utilized don't appear to our eyes to make any calculable difference.Speakers and camera

The stereo speakers in the Kindle Fire HD are intended to be a major offering point, and much public statement ink has been spilled about the "Dolby Digital Plus" double driver speakers. The quality is not awful at lower volumes, however stable is somewhat stifled. The speakers can get very boisterous, which is not by any stretch of the imagination further bolstering their good fortune, as volume settings past 75 percent feel somewhat loud and harsh on our ears at short proximity. On the in addition to side, the Kindle Fire HD is absolutely louder than the Nexus 7 and the iPad, even without turning it up the distance. We could most likely live without the top third or so of the volume range.The Kindle Fire HD has a solitary 720p camera inserted in one of the long sides of its bezel. As we so frequently find with webcams, the quality is poor. More regrettable, as we at first found with the Nexus 7, there is no committed camera application, so the nearest estimation of value comes cordiality of Skype. I took the Kindle Fire HD home to test a video call to the iPad and found that the nourish originating from the Kindle Fire HD was washed out and hazy. We can't without much of a stretch separate that quality from the video pressure going on, yet as far as watcher effect, it doesn't generally make a difference; the camera is implied for video-talking. Assessed in its component, its portrayal of the truth is just acceptable.

Interface

Amazon stayed with a similar merry go round route framework on the home screen that it utilized as a part of the Kindle Fire, however the shape and capacity has been changed a bit. The first merry go round was considerably denser, with things heaped thickly on top of each other so you could see the edge of ten or so on the double. On the new Kindle Fire, you see just three at time: one up front, with one all the more thing stacked behind it either side.

We noted last time that the configuration of the merry go round was somewhat of a security worry, as the last thing you taken a gander at would appear at the highest point of the stack, paying little heed to its inclination: TMZ, deluge locales, Fleshbot, Martha Stewart's bloom course of action blog—all could be relied on to appear on top and humiliate you. More regrettable, there was no real way to expel things from the stack, and your exclusive plan of action would have been to wildly see other, less pointless things until your dishonorable mystery had been headed to the back. Presently a setting in the Web application will keep late program pages from getting put in the merry go round, and holding a finger down on the merry go round thing will fly up a menu that will give you a chance to expel it from view in the event that you want.For a more perpetual simple get to arrangement, the Kindle Fire landing page additionally gives Favorites, which are available by touching the star in the base right corner of the screen. This is unique in relation to the primary Kindle Fire, which put the top picks directly underneath the merry go round in a consistent arrangement of racks to such an extent that a great many shelfs would show up as the view was looked down. Presently, the screen land underneath the merry go round is utilized to show you suggestions for more stuff to purchase, in light of the current frontmost thing in the merry go round (this promoting is demonstrated just in picture mode) or "drifting now" things if the present thing in the merry go round is a program page. It's baffling that Amazon needed to so forcefully adapt that space. We'd incline toward if top picks could be put here, with the main two lines dependably in view.