#will there ever be another puzzle game as good as portal 2 i fear not | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

grim-faux · 3 years

Text

2 _ 31 _ Reflections

First

The rain slapped against the windowsill, the wood soaked entirely and coming apart by slivers as he shifted. For once, he was working at his fingers and not the soft timber. A particularly stubborn splinter between his fingers refused to emerge, so he sat for the time chewing off callouses.

Far below in the alley, a pack of children skittered through the gray mist racing boats in a gutter. It’s a group of what might be four, it's difficult to take full stock from the angle and how indistinguishable the shapes are. He knows they are pack because they play a game together and appear mostly organized. Games help children figure out cooperation and interdependence, it’d let them get a grip on skills, and other important things. Playing a small game could also pull them from the hostile world they inhabited, and… he didn’t know how to put it into speek. Reset their heads. Lessened the fatigue of struggle for survive, distanced them from the uncertainties they dealt with constantly. Such as food and safe shelter. It was free and light.

It would be fun to go out there and meet with the other children. See how they did speek, possibly learn where they came from - if they came from beyond the city or knew nothing but the Pale City. Maybe find out where they planned to go next. Could learn about new dangers or unseen threats. Sometimes kids share foods, but not always, it depended on the situation and how plentiful rations were. He wondered who was winning the game. The boats worked well, bobbing along the deep rapids of the gulley and staying afloat despite the turbulent weather.

Trying to meet other kids wouldn’t be safe. The Thin Man might frighten the child pack or hurt them. Worst could happen, what if chase and turned them into sad little shadows? True, that didn't always happen, but it did happen to Her. And they were not Mono. Not same. The tall thin man was unpredictable, did without reason, does without knowing the why. In all the time he chased the man in the hat, Mono didn't learn much of his ways or whims. Even for him the game was dangerous. Though the tall thin man usually seemed calm and indifferent, it was always very obvious when someone something irritated him. The Thin Man did give fair warning.

He shouldn’t be sitting here watching, but he can’t help it. Even if he can’t pack, he still longed for the together. Share foods and speek, watch for someone and then do sleep. Huddle close when it’s cold, and the weather was punishing. Call for friend, work through a hard puzzle. Trick monsters. The sort of stuff kids did.

The Thin Man keeps Mono, but that is all. The tall thin man is not child, he is the adult. Maybe once a long-long time ago, the man in the hat was child and did hide, flee from danger, and searched for food, or played games. He might’ve had a pack, or not. All of that means nothing, the Thin Man is adult now, and does not understand cardinal laws about the world. He goes where he wants, does whatever he wants, whenever he wants. The man in the hat has no fears. It’s possible he likes keeping Mono because Mono is a strange child with no friends, and Mono couldn't help but chase the Thin Man.

Or could be the Thin Man thought Mono was funny child. Not a good kind of funny, but a mean kind. Like with the feather. Mono was funny and sometimes that made the Thin Man happy, but that didn't make Mono happy. The man in the hat liked the few things about Mono that were same, but that was the extent of Mono's frail grasp. So little about company he could get the knack of, the Thin Man always changed the rules. Then again, the Thin Man didn't quite want Mono to begin with; he barely seemed to accept that Mono was.

The thought was always there, like needing to find foods. Ever present in his mind, nagging when he lost sight of the tall thin man. When the man in the hat left for the fabled "danger-ouse places". This wasn't going to last, and Mono was always nervous when the Thin Man became displeased with his doings.

“Don’t go there.” “You need sleep.” “Not there, child.” “Where are you?” “How did you manage that?” “Spit that out." "No.” “That is a danger.” “I don’t need that.” “No.” “Stop!” “Stay.” “C̷̥͠o̶̜͑m̷̥͗ë̴̬́ ̴͙̂H̶̞͠ȅ̴͓r̵̲̃ḙ̵̓,̸̳̃ ̶͎̅B̴̠̀o̶͈̾y̶͖͘.̸̯̓”

Adults. They get mad at the weirdest things. Like now, Mono was uncertain where the Thin Man was inside the whole building they were exploring. The tall thin man was put off about... something or another, and before Mono could collect his wits (after the bad fall) the man in the hat had already faded in a flashy crackle. No sign or indication where he went. As such, Mono began wandering through the twisting corridors, and sneaking around the rundown rooms barely holding together; mind set on food things while his senses remained on full alert.

The Thin Man seemed more broody than the adults normal, and inclined the quiet, dark glare onto Mono a few times. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, what the tall thin man searched for. It had been some while since Mono saw a smile; not while they strolled through the dismal roads, or broken walls into washed out building interiors. They wandered some long while, the tall thin man might be tired like Mono was. Even if lie and said he wasn't to rest, Mono knew better. The dream haunts got the better of him, despite Mono's best efforts. The Thin Man did not do a good job of look after himself.

If he could find something interesting, the Thin Man would tell him about it. Maybe. Some things he didn’t like to tell Mono about, but other times Mono could find him a new thing. An interesting thing, which the Thin Man would just tell him all about. Sometimes use the big speek, and Mono would be lost in the rumbling buzz. But it was a good sort of lost.

That task was hard yet. Not much interested the Thin Man. He liked his game, and Mono was glad not to be alone. They both got something from the company. A win.

Dull vibrations pulsed in the back of his thoughts, demanding Mono pry his focus from the window, with the children so far away. He dropped off the sill and hurried across the decrepit room, aimed for one doorway wherein the already challenged radiance flashed and dimmed. In short time he reached the portal, right when the figure bent shuffled into the room.

“Did you get to eat?” The man in the hat stood straight and rubbed at his back.

Mono rubbed at his own back. When the Thin Man gave him a look, he stopped the motion and shook his head. He showed his empty hands and frowned. If there had been food, the Thin Man would’ve gotten something too.

With a rustling sigh, the Thin Man resumed his listless stride. To his relief, the man in the hat dismissed the window, and in a distorted flicker, abandoned the room entirely. Before the bulbs winked out in the ceiling, Mono made haste to reach the connecting passage. Soon, he would only have the delicate rap of the Thin Man's heels to offer direction. If the wiring didn't work or fizzled out completely due to the Thin Man's presence, he really had to rely on his hearing and the feel of the air. Mono fancied he was becoming pro at that, regardless the frequent bump or stumble over obscure junk.

The prolonged search resulted in no meaningful results, nothing worthwhile - aside from more of the same rot, the typical invasion of insects chewing through whatever couldn't crawl away. Mono plucked at the edge of his choice hat, trying to pretend his stomach wasn't growling about the injustice of all this. For the life of him, he couldn't remember what it was that he last ate. Let alone when. It wasn't important, but it annoyed him thinking he'd gone so long without something.

Probably why he couldn't stop chewing on his fingers.

"Don't do that. Get your hand away from your mouth."

When the Thin Man leaned through the next doorway, Mono stalled long enough to stick his tongue at the hunched figure. He didn't want to chew on the bandage, the wrapping was set cozy and right, and neat. A good sum of time elapsed since his last incident, best not to get the Thin Man all riled up over minor hurts. Mono wanted to avoid another episode.

By the ground level of the building, the two returned to the endless storms via a collapsed portion of wall. Thankfully, the Thin Man ventured through roads that lay open and mostly whole, fluttering as a wispy shadow among chunks of ruble evicted off the warped high-rises. The man in the hat's travel was never restricted, not like Mono was. A chasm wasn’t a frightening void to the tall thin man; he could blink out and appear on the other side. For Mono in his unrefined capacity, he always had to search out a way across. And FAST. The tall thin man wasn't prone to wait or call.

Sometimes, the man in the hat did offer to carry Mono, but Mono was frightened by the idea and shied away from the offered hand. What if he was dropped or fell, or any number of things? Mono liked to have something solid under his feet, or in his grasp. The Thin Man was always dissatisfied with the response, but it was a rare time when he didn’t grab Mono. They could always search for another way. The city sprawling held no shortage of paths or crevices, ladders or suspicious braided blanket ropes dangling. Mono was a crafty boy - if he was permitted the time, he would find a clever route. All while ignoring the Thin Man's baleful glower. Like the tall thin man, Mono didn't need anybody. He could go anywhere on his own.

It is a very long excursion of the city roads, twisted alleys, roving within the buckling walls of splintered skyscrapers crumbling brick by brick. None of the rooms of the many locations offered anything, aside from maybe a new child's hat or intriguing artifact. The rain prattled constantly, sometimes low roads are swamped by the converging 'rivers'. In some durations the travel is intense, but Mono is never dissuaded. Nothing would stop him. The Thin Man sought cached passages through the ruble of buildings, or utilized the televisions to reach a whole other section of the city. The Thin Man was always first, only because he isn’t a television serial murderer.

Mono tried to catch himself when he flew out. The television is atop a low table and he tumbled, nearly breaking his wrist. The Thin Man is already moving, and Mono doesn't waste a second to catch up. The building isn’t in that bad of shape, compared to those they passed through from the other side of the screen. The walls at least look whole in this room, and it’s much warmer, not so damp or drafty. Maybe shelter here? The man in the hat always decided.

The Thin Man opened a door, which led into a large corridor with branching archways and impervious shade beyond each. Flashing and glitching the tall figure reappeared, bypassing the first two entries. In his wake, Mono emerged from the doorway, straying near the wall. When he didn't follow immediately, the Thin Man stopped and looked back.

Mono idled along the wall trailing the peeling wallpaper with his hand, ever cautious when peering into the first open portal he passed. As suspected, perpetual depths greeted his eyes. He angled his gaze up and up at the stony silhouette, his current hat hiding most of his face. With barely a click in his step, the Thin Man pivoted and resumed his elected course. While Mono ducked into the next doorway, down a flight of steps and toward another corridor barely perceivable, if not for the bulb framing the walls with a gray haze. Not long, he would be back. The man in the hat wouldn't miss him.

The jingle from televisions carried along the enclosed stairwell, all the while Mono stumbled. Beyond the depressed gleam of radiance, more doors and maybe another passage further along. An intermix jabber of voices stacked in conversation, rambling speek with no meaning, and other melodies crooned out. Among the cacophony of swirled sounds, a Viewer burbled at the television it gaped at.

Most the doors he couldn't bother with, even if he was confident to shift through the wood panel, Mono still preferred to conserve his energy. He couldn't be certain if he would have the vigor to pop back through, given how famished he was. It limited his search, but the scout wouldn't go far if he got stranded somewhere. Much of his searching was reserved for bare-open dwellings, and likely areas long abandoned and long looted of worthwhile treats. If a residency appeared quiet and the door could be opened, he’d invite himself in. Foremost, he kept a lookout for foods, but he didn’t want to get distracted.

The self-imposed quest was mostly focused in the rooms with beds and dressers, not the kitchens - not yet. The rooms would harbor castoff things from a world abandoned, a world detached from the one he knew so well. On top of dressers or on nightstands, he might locate something he’d never seen before. However, many of the trinkets couldn’t hold his interest or didn’t reveal enough upon first examination, to really spur the risk to haul it to the Thin Man. He wanted to find another one of the bulb things with the toy inside, since that seemed interesting for a try.

In the big living room of one residence, he did find a remote! Something he’d searched for endlessly, especially now since lone televisions seemed prone to shut off while the Thin Man was around. The Thin Man didn’t like Mono looking at the devices, unless he was watched. Bleh.

Also lingering around was a Viewer, plastered to the television and gurgling. Needing a break from all the pointless wandering, Mono perched on a tall desk table and hit the switch, causing the television to blink out. This of course, annoyed the Viewer. With a shriek it swung around and searched for the source of this outrage. How DARE! Before it could lock onto him, near invisible in the shadows, Mono would give it back its stupid television. He just wanted to have a little fun for a bit, no harm.

This went on and on, the Viewer wailing each time the television powered off, Mono seeing how far he was willing to let it get without the willies getting to him. The nice thing about Viewers was the predictability, despite how obsessed they were. And creepy. As long as he had the remote, everything would be fine-

Unless the controller switch stopped… working. Right when he shut the thing off, and the Viewer had gotten a few paces too many away from its precious entertainment box.

Yeah it was a really dumb game, but he’d not had fun like that in a while. At least he had a head start, racing out of the room and shooting down into a crawlspace beneath the floorboards of one room. He really mourned the loss of the remote, he could have used that later.

The lower floors still held together mostly, which meant he should be extra careful while exploring around. There wouldn’t be openings or breaks he could dive into if trouble reared up, but he wasn’t seeing too many of the Viewers either, despite the singing televisions. He was also a little lost, creeping from one dwelling to the next, all the corridors felt the same despite erosion in the surface and carpet. He was thinking it would be a good time to try retracing his steps, before he became too lost. He was sure the upper floors could be reached, even without the stairwell – planks of wood in the crumbling wall or anything, if he searched hard enough.

In one of the smaller rooms he did a last search of, he encountered some child standing off to the side. Their presence startled him so much, and they looked just about as terrified by his intrusion, he back peddled and floundered over his own feet. He snatched up his hat and managed to lurch into a run, shooting through the break in the lower portion of the door and fleeing down the winding hall.

Only to freeze up when the Thin Man dipped under the threshold leading into the very corridor he was in. For lack of direction, Mono swayed back and forth.

“Hey.”

The Thin Man gave him a look, intense eyes glittering beneath the bill of his hat. He was chewing on one of those burn sticks.

“What is it? Stumble onto a hazard?” he posed.

Mono tipped his head, unsure how to go about this. “N’t good. No safe.” And then he stood there like a dolt, trying to hide his eyes a bit beneath the lip of his hat. “Foods?” He began to panic internally, when the Thin Man approached. Not looking at him, but glaring at the broken door just behind him.

“No! NoNoNoNo!” He tried to get in the tall figures way, but the man in the hat just stepped over him. A soured ache formed in his gut, he wanted to stop the Thin Man but also could see himself getting knocked aside or hurt if he was more careless. “No! No!”

“For the last time, there is nothing to fear while in my presence,” he grumbled. “I won't tolerate this. Wait there!” With a snap of his wrist the door creaked open, and in a deep bow the man in the hat vanished, winking out in a distorted shadow. A long and eerie pause followed.

Mono pressed his hands over his eyes and backed away. What did he do to children that were not Mono? Some sleeps the phantom screech She made woke him up. He never heard her do speek like that. A sad little shadow. He didn’t want to hear anyone else scream like that. He wanted to stop the Thin Man, but he was afraid! A cowered! He kept backing away from the void that now existed beyond the doorway. Sorry! He was sorry! He ran away! He tried....

“Mono.” The Thin Man called, from within. Sounding distant and haunting. “Come here.”

“What!” he challenged, without a thought. What did the Thin Man want to show him? Did he plan to make an example of the child? Or, did they escape? He hoped they got out.

Once more, the Thin Man beckoned. “Come here. Now.” When Mono failed to inspire his legs into moving, the Thin Man provided ample motivation. “Î̸̪̜̐̚ ̶͎̲̘̊̆̈́̎̊̊W̶̨̙͓͂̓̽͝i̵͓͖̖̰̞̒͛́̽͜͝l̶͎͚̼͙̐̋̅̿͝l̶̩͇̯̱̋ ̴͈̰̺̑̈́͜Ṅ̷̛̬̜͑̾̕͠o̷̫̭͗̃̅͆̕͝t̷̗͎͖̏̿̉ ̷̱̫̜̠̎̇̈̂̕Č̵͍͚̒̏̌̋a̴̦̤̙̹͌̔̆̆͒͝l̷̩͖͈̈́̐͒l̸͙͚͖̤̫̮̈̍͒͠ ̴͕̗̩͓̳̟̕ Ȁ̸͎̜̫͍̫̠̆̽g̷͇̙͋a̶̢̯̻̋̉i̴̗̣̭̩̒͊́̚ṅ̴̮͉̿̓͘͠.”

He shuffled towards the doorway, gut tightening the closer he moved to the gaping entry. What was waiting? Would the Thin Man have the child in his grip, struggling and terrified by his uncertain fate? Or would the other kid be cringing in a corner, white with terror? If the man in the hat wanted him to do... something, he would flee. He would!

When Mono finally inched his way hrough the threshold, his eyes locked immediately on the towering figure standing by the wall. A little flutter of relief swirled in his chest, upon spying both of the long arms crossed over the narrow chest. That relief almost popped, when the Thin Man settled his gaze on him. He tugged the sides of his hat down around his face.

“There’s no need to be frightened,” he crackled. “It was only your reflection.”

Baffled, Mono shifted his gaze aside and searched. Reflection? He nearly jolted backwards when he spied the child again, instead, this time he stumbled. What was that! The other child appeared flabbergasted as well as lost. What was this?! No, wait… they were wearing his hat. That was His HAT!

He kept his distance, glaring. The other child followed his lead. Perfectly mimed. This was very confusing and disconcerting, to have a someone imitate him so perfectly. Something was wrong here.

“You’ve never seen a real mirror before, have you?” He felt like the Thin Man was mocking him again. Before he realized anything is afoot, he’s being pressed forward by a hand. “It won’t hurt you. Have a look.”

“No….” Mono tugged the hat down fully over his face, but couldn’t get away from the grasp insisting he address this other fake Mono. He dug his toes into the dirty carpet trying to press back, until the forceful hand withdrew. He collected himself and tugged his hat up, fully prepared to retreat… but he was nearly at the doppelganger. Could make out the color of his coat, the details of his hat, his very dour and annoyed expression.

It was like staring into a window, and someone you’ve never seen before looked back. But he knew them from somewhere. The surface was a bit dusty, the edges tinged with corrosion, but for the most part the window was intact. They were separated. He crept in closer and closer, teetering on the fringe of flight. The closer he moved, the more defined and clear the outlines of the other child became in the dull light.

Reaching out cautiously, his palm slapped the cold barrier. Solid. He gazed at the other face gawking back, and very slowly reached up. The copy mimicked faithfully, as he pushed the hat off his head. He tried to recall a time when he had viewed himself in such utter clarity, but had nothing. Unless to check for an injury or something, seeking a reflective surface was redundant. Finding a surface that offered anything but distorted complexions, was something else entirely. He never really stopped to look at himself, take in the face the world hated.

“It’s you,” the Thin Man rumbled.

“T’s me. Aam Mono,” he hummed. Tentatively, he reached up and touched at his hair, pushed it one way then parted it the other, ruffled the clumpy strands. He tugged at his ears, studying the curls and overall form. Then, mushed at his cheeks and tugged at his lips, made some faces. So that’s what those looked like. He had to look at his teeth, see the crazy gap the missing tooth made. Neat! The spot in his gum looked ugly but didn't hurt. He twirled around, admiring the fantastic coat and all its stitch work. The collar was bent, so he fixed that. Overall, he was a very good looking Mono.

A little higher in the window surface, he could observe the Thin Man. Smiling.

“Come? Look.” He leaned away from the glossy pane, peering up at the man in the hat. Who was no longer smiling.

“No. I’d rather not… tarnish the reflection.”

Mono returned his attention to the mirror Mono and looked aside. This didn’t count as anything that would make the Thin Man happy. He sat for a moment and nibbled his fingers, having a think. He was… already bored with the mirror, too. The novelty wore off before he knew it. He was still Mono, the world still hated him. The mirror couldn't tell him why. But....

“Same,” he murmured. Touching his cheek. “N’same.” He turned to the Thin Man and curled his fingers around his eyes. He offered a smile.

“That we do.”

The response kind of caught Mono. But the man in the hat knew everything already, and then didn’t say. “Reason?”

The Thin Man exhaled a thread of smoke. And shrugged. Otherwise, no explanation or insight was given. Not even an excuse.

“See… n’me you?”

Another sigh, but the Thin Man sighed wouldn’t look at Mono. “Saw some of me, in you.”

“Oh.” He was glad there wasn’t a child in this room. This wasn’t much better, but at least no one else got hurt. He tugged at a thread in the roll of his pant leg. “Tell story?” He is a little disappointed when the Thin Man turned away and bent under the doorframe.

“No, this is not the time nor place for silly stories.”

Mono snapped up his hat and climbed to his feet, rushing after the gradually retreating figure. “But story?” He hastened his pace to stay beside the Thin Man, bouncing or skipping between every two or three steps.

“You won’t like the story, I can tell you that. One day though, it will be your story, and it will hurt.” A trail of smoke left his lips.

Hurt? So many queries blossomed within his thoughts. Was there a fix? A way to stop hurt? The Thin Man knew, but couldn't fix. Though maybe....

“But… same, be'fer t'hide. And t'flee. Then you, w’th me. Do t's together....” The Thin Man ceased walking and gave him a full on glare. Mono staggered sideways, halting his panicked speek. This wasn’t good. Asking questions wouldn’t work, and the Thin Man didn’t like repeating himself.

“M’sorry,” Mono mumbled, smothering his words. The man in the hat didn't like the S speek. “Rr’sad? N’yu not say, f'hurt?” He inched closer to the Thin Man’s shoes and raised his arms. If he wanted to, the Thin Man could hold him. Getting snared or clutched frightened him, the mood of the tall thin man was always strange and mystery, Mono never really knew what might happen. But it might make the man in the hat feel better. That too was an unknown.

Instead, the Thin Man bent over and ruffled his hair. “Never mind that. Let’s move along, I do not believe there will be much food in this place.”

Mono is still put off by the dismissiveness, but he shouldn’t have pushed. He wanted answers, but the Thin Man wasn’t happy in speek about those sort of tricky topics. He liked explaining other boring trivial pieces, but not when it came to the important questions. Her. The Tower. Other children. Sad little shadows. The bits and pieces of a different world, with different pictures, and different meanings. It could be like dream haunts, it was taboo to ask friends about them. That seemed like a valid reason, despite how it burned up in Mono to know more, anything. So much same in Mono, but wouldn't utter why. Could other children... be....

The tall figure renewed his fluid stride, exhaling a stream of vapor as he went. Mono plopped his hat on and followed, as usual. In silence, as typical. Questions hovered in his mind but for now he would stash them aside, until a safer time. Perhaps when they settled in a calm and good area, then the tall thin man would want to do share speek. Could be interested if Mono copied picture speek from a book, and made a different sort of book? That seemed like a fun idea, and then, he could show the Thin Man how to make it work. Even if the Thin Man knew everything already, it would be happy to pretend he found something new for the Thin Man.

The Thin Man maybe only kept Mono because of all the same. Too much of the same, or maybe not enough. He couldn’t really figure out anything of why, the man in the hat did what he did. All of anything he did, was for himself. Yet, he made Mono a part of that, and that was okay. No one else wanted Mono.

He thought though, that the Thin Man’s lip twitched. He wasn’t sure what he did, but it faded the more he persisted with queries. Mono asked the hard questions, the ones that made the man in the hat dig for something... else. A place where the answers lay, beneath the questions, shrouded by the purpose of doing a something. The Thin Man didn't like giving answers or reasons, because like dream haunts, he had to find where the answers came from. The Thin Man was a strange and troubled adult, brimming with dark thoughts alongside the difficult unknowns. Adults would always be hostile and angered by anything that didn't belong, but the Thin Man wasn't like that. He was mostly just grumpy.

#little nightmares #mono #the thin man #thin dad #little nightmares fanfic #little nightmares fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #mono nearly failed the mirror test #hes never see an HD mono before

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battlemaiden13 · 5 years

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another 2 questions for bros from UT, US, HT, UF, SFR, Gastertale, MT, UL, and StoryShift Papyrus - 1. What games, board-games, video games, or card games might these skeletons play? 2. What is their favorite foods, or the foods they eat the most?

13: this turned out to be a bit longer than I thought it’d be, whoops. I’ve included a brief description of the games I figured most people wouldn’t of heard about to so you should be able to understand most of them.

SansPulling pranks and being a pain aren’t really games you can tell people you enjoy although if they were that’s what he’d say. Instead he tells you his favourite game is questions only. It’s an improvisation game played between two people were they are only allowed to talk in questions. If someone manages to say something that isn’t a question than they’re out and the other person wins the round. He likes this game because he doesn’t necessarily need to stand up to play and there’s no set up. Of course he’s favourite food is obviously ketchup especially if he can have fries with them.

PapyrusWhy stop at a simple game? Being out of the underground Papyrus has discovered the wonders of escape rooms. Not only are they rooms filled with multiple puzzles but most are intended for more than one player making them the perfect bonding opportunity. Escape rooms are by fair his first choice of games if he could pick but he’s basically willing to try any puzzle based game from the digital game portal to just literal puzzles. Of course his favourite food is spaghetti.

RedReally likes RPG video games, his favourite though is the Persona series. They are a mix of RPG, logical thinking, fighting and strategy. He enjoys other RPG’s to but this series is the one he keeps coming back to over and over again. He particularly enjoys the aesthetic of 5. Red’s favourite food to go along with his mustard is greasy cheeseburgers.

EdgeLikes games of subtle manipulation and control, his favourite of which is the board game series Munchkin. It’s a game where you have to work together in order to move forward but if you help out the others to much they will pull ahead and win the whole game. You have to figure out what alliances to keep and when to break them in order to best benefit yourself. Edge enjoys Lasagna, there are so many different ways to make it that he finds the whole thing very enjoyable.

BlueOne of his favourite games is Double memory! Of course you could also convince him to just play regular memory but double memory is way funnier in his opinion. Double memory is played with two decks of cards laying face down on a table, the joker cards are removed. With two decks you have to match both the number on the card and the suit where as with regular memory you just have to get the number because it’s played with a single deck. If you get a pair on your turn you get to go again, the person with the most matches at the end wins. Blues favourite food is tacos although he isn’t that great at cooking them he likes the different flavours you can get from a single bite from them.

OrangeLikes shooter video games, his favourite of which is borderlands. Not only is it a fast pace shooter but he really enjoys the style in the game and he adores the humour. First time he picked it up he wasn’t expecting it to be funny but it’s got him a few times and he was hooked. Orange has such a big sweet tooth anything to do with desserts he will love, that’s why he drinks honey. If he had to choose one thing though he’d definitely go with donuts.

LordLikes games that let’s him install fear in others usually done with contraptions he’s made himself. One such game he’s created is a game of chicken involving a finger guillotine. Players put their finger in the respective slot and take turns cutting a string. One of these strings will release sharp blade cutting off the players fingers. If you remove your hand you lose although losing a finger might not be the best option for any winner. Lord likes gyro’s and is convinced that they are the superior food.

MuttHe doesn’t really get to play games too often but if he had to pick one it would the card/ board game codenames. The game is played in teams, 12 tiles with different pictures are placed in front of you, the speaker has a card showing the locations of the different agents. The speaker gives the players a number and a word and the players have to try and connect the words to the pictures on the board. The number stated indicates how many agents could be hidden with that word. The winners are the first team to find all their agents. Mutt likes it because you have to think about what your team or speaker would connect with each word in order to find the agents. Mutt also has a sweet tooth but prefers things a little bit sour. He could eat a ton of sour gummy worms along with the sour cream he always seems to be eating.

AxeHis memory makes it hard to concentrate on most games so it either has to be something he can leave and come back to or something that’s over pretty quickly. He does enjoy backgammon, he knows were his own pieces need to go and he doesn’t really need to concentrate when its the other players turn. He simple needs to role his dice and move his own pieces according to the numbers shown. He finds it easy to pay attention for these short times when it’s his turn and likes the logic and luck behind the game. Also loves ketchup but he will say that his favourite food is fruit. There wasn’t really a chance to get fresh fruit underground so now he really enjoys it.

CrooksLikes classic puzzles. Like puzzles, puzzles, you know the ones with pieces that fit together to show an image. That! The more pieces the better in his opinion and he finds the 3D ones just as fun. Over the years above ground he’s accumulated quite the collection of different puzzles. Like he has a wall in his house with a bookshelf covered in boxes of puzzles. His favourite food is also spaghetti, he thinks it tastes best if made with rabbit meat or deer.

GGames aren’t really his thing but he has been known to play Tarot Cards of Fate. The game is played in 3 rounds using a deck of Tarot cards. The cards are placed face-down on a table and the game is played by flipping them up one by one. Cards are assigned a score equal to their number shown on them i.e. The World being XXI is assigned 21 points. This score is awarded only to one of the players. Cards score also depends on their position when flipped up, if they are facing upwards the player is awarded positive points, if they are reversed they award a negative score. The sole exception to this rule is The Fool which serves as the game’s “Joker”. If The Fool is face up it is an instant-win for the score player, if reversed it is an instant loss regardless of any score. Although G does enjoy drinking Hot Sauce his favourite food is curry, the spicier the better.

GreenHe enjoys doing Sudoku puzzles. It’s something he picked up from his Gaster half and with his Papyrus half already enjoying puzzles there really wasn’t much argument about it. He’s filled in so many of those puzzle books that you’re sure it could fill a library. Green doesn’t really have a favourite food but he will indulge himself with different chocolates every now and then.

RouletteChoice poker is his favourite game. Any gambling he enjoys but he finds choices poker really raises the stakes. It has the same rules with common poker, five of a kind being the strongest hand and high card being the weakest hand. You are allowed to exchange your card only once. (You can exchange one to five cards). This game is also played with the joker and it is considered the strongest card instead of the ace. However, having the strongest hand doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll win, the higher bidder of chips in the betting round is given the choice to select whether the stronger or weaker hand will win that round. This means the bets are usually pretty high which makes for an exciting game. His favourite food is potato cakes alongside tomato sauce, he finds the flavour less sweet than normal ketchup although he’ll drink that two if it’s available.

SniperFavourite game is Duel Clash Poker. The game is played with a special deck, two pairs of players against each other. Each player has eight different cards: numbered card from 1 to 7 and one Joker. The player who plays the stronger card wins. However, if two players use the same card, they will cancel each other and the winner will be the person who played the next highest number. For example, when the chosen cards are two 7s, a 4, and a 2, the person who played 4 is considered the winner. The strongest card in the game is the Joker. Jokers can also cancel each other, though. The pair who manages to win four rounds first wins the game. Snipers favourite food is also pasta but he prefers them with white sauces.

LustAlso likes RPG’s his favourite currently being Skyrim because he has install all the horny mods, the same can be seen on his sims saves. He doesn’t play games to often but if and when he does you better believe his favourite things are the sexual mods that other creators have made for them. Lust favourite food is pizza mainly because he can argue it has veggies on it.

CharmPlays dating sims. Not only does he find them fun but he can use them as a training resource or as a way to test his skills. He doesn’t really have a particular favourite title as he’s basically willing to try any title in the genre and he’s actually pretty good at them. Charms favourite food is actually sushi, he finds it more romantic than pasta for some reason.

PoppyHis favourite game is actually Tetris. The other papyrus personalities don’t tend to enjoy video games but Poppy adores this fast paced puzzle game. A game of skill and quick logical thinking what could be better? You don’t think you’ve ever seen him lose unless he was super distracted. Just like the others have a tendency to though Poppy also really likes pasta. He doesn’t have a specific dish he enjoys more but he always seems to enjoy pasta.

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nitewrighter · 6 years

Text

Of Blades and Broomsticks pt. XIV

(7 Minutes left on the clock!! Happy Halloween, Y’all!)

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 11, 12, 13

Witch AU on AO3

----

The doors to the temple library were heavy, and Mercy had to throw a significant amount of her weight against them just to get them open, her soft-soled monk’s slippers sliding slightly across the floor. The door opened with a rumble and opened into an only-marginally-better-lit-than-the rest of the temple library. It was cool and musty-smelling, lit by a great glowing green chandelier of black glass tendrils winding around each other like a tangled mass of kelp on a beach. Mercy’s breath went short in her throat as she ran her fingers along the cold spines of a few of the thousands of books lining the walls. “Incredible,” she said, picking a book off the shelf, “There must be centuries worth of--”

“Dreck,” she heard a familar voice and then a clatter of a book on the floor and followed its source. She walked between imposingly tall shelves.

“Hogwash,” the voice came again and another clatter.

“Keep this,” no clatter.

“Bunkum,” another clatter.

“Codswallop,” another clatter.

“Pointless smut--actually hold on to that,” no clatter.

“Esoteric frippery,” another clatter.

Mercy reached the source of the commotion to see Junkenstein surrounded by dozens of littered books strewn about the black stone floor, and the Monster standing behind him, holding an impressive pile of precariously stacked volumes in his massive hands. Junkenstein was glaring at the bookshelf, tapping his chin with his prosthetic hand thoughtfully.

“Making yourself right at home, I see,” said Mercy, smiling.

“Would that it were, but a place of a god is no place for a man of science, Gramercy,” said Junkenstein, picking up a book and leafing through it before setting it on the pile in his monsters’ arms, “We stand at an interesting point. We cannot return to Adlersbrunn, obviously. But how long can we stay here? And... your demon’s brother said something that’s stuck with me--He spoke like... like we set things into motion back in Adlersbrunn. Things that are going to have consequences far larger than we could ever dream of controlling.”

“We’re very far from Adlersbrunn,” said Mercy, “If the church sends more hunters after us, there’s not much of a trail for them to track with Zenyatta’s portals.”

"This goes well beyond the church, now, Gramercy, all it takes is one glance at the company we keep to know that,” said Junkenstein, looking back at his monster, “Speaking of which, how fares your demon?”

“He’s glad to be near his master, but this place puts him on edge like you,” said Mercy with a shrug, “But it’s mostly for my sake.”

“He is quite taken with you,” said Junkenstein, pulling another book off the shelf and leafing through it.

“He would have me believe he is taken with me,” said Mercy, putting her hands on her hips, “But he’s a demon.”

“Ah and you would have him believe you’re taken with him,” Junkenstein clapped the book shut and tossed it over his shoulder, “But you are a witch. It’s a dangerous game of cat and... other cat you two play,” he scoffed, “Come now, Gramercy, you think I don’t know you? You’re not putting up those haughty witch walls around yourself now, are you? The two of you have been through the fire together! Literally! There was a column of fire that burned a hole in the sky! We were there!”

“Jamison...” Mercy pushed some of her hair back.

“You’re always telling me to have a bit more faith,” said Junkenstein with a shrug as he and his creation gingerly stepped around the mess of books at their feet and walked down the narrow stacks.

“’If you can’t trust your demons, who can you trust?’” Mercy suggested wryly.

“In a sense, yes,” said Junkenstein as he and his creation set their pile of books with a thunderous clatter down on a stone table, “Our old home is well behind us, and we’re on the brink of an entirely new world---one we understand very little of, by the way---We need friends. We need allies.” He gave an affectionate pat to his creation’s stomach, “And you’re in even deeper with all this magical whatnot than I am.”

“Good to see you’re actually calling it ‘Magic,’” said Mercy, smiling.

“Blame Squidface,” said Junkenstein, flipping open a book, and taking a seat, “It’s just one more thing for me to figure out isn’t it? That’s all science is, really.”

Mercy watched as Junkenstein’s eyes traced over the page.

“How long do you intend to stay?” said Mercy.

“Still figuring that out,” said Junkenstein, “Not too long, obviously. Though if your demon has any ideas on where to head next, you should check with him.”

“Are we to be traveling companions?” said Mercy with a smile.

“As if you’d last a second without me,” said Junkenstein with a grin. The creature gave a grunt behind him. “Us,” he corrected himself, “Last a second without us.”

“Oh, my heroes,” Mercy said with a smile, before walking off and leaving Junkenstein and his creation to their books.

Mercy lingered in the library a while longer, though Junkenstein’s words stuck with her. She knew she was no worshipper of Zenyatta, and part of the reason she was letting herself stay here was because it was the first place where she wasn’t feared or hated for being a witch--she was tolerated, but did she belong? No. She wondered if she would even know what it felt like to belong somewhere--if she would ever recognize the feeling. The question had previously depressed her, but now it trailed and tugged like a fishline to Genji. She remembered the words that fell out of her as they descended from the sky in what felt somehow both distantly long ago.

“I’m your witch, aren’t I? I’m your witch and you’re my demon.“

In all the panic of that moment she had clung to that thought like a ship’s mast in a storm.

She thumbed through a few tomes mindlessly. Pre-Babel scrolls in languages-before-language that she had no hope of translating since they sounded like everything and nothing, complicated histories of the cult with names of a pantheon that made her happy Zenyatta’s name was as easy to pronounce as it was. As she set a book back on the shelf, she heard a soft whisper. She was used to hearing a lot of whispers and tuning them out, but this whisper gave her pause. It sounded like the old woman. The Gramercy before her--but the words were indistinct, and they weren’t berating or scolding, but wondrous and soft. Mercy followed the source of the voice, but there wasn’t a source, she knew that much... nothing like the commotion Junkenstein had been creating with all his book-throwing. Still her feet walked and her chin lifted, listening, through she was half-sure the voice as only in her mind. As she walked some words formed themselves.

“--some point the chain was nearly broken, and much knowledge of its true potential was lost--”

The words cut out altogether.

Mercy stopped walking and found herself in those same narrow cathedral-like stacks. She looked around, not really sure what she was looking for. She was far at the back of the library. She puzzled at the spines of books on either side of her, then shrugged and moved to walk out from the rows of shelves when there was a clatter of a book hitting the floor behind her so sudden it gave her a start. A grubby looking steel-and-leather book was on the floor--no title, save for the word ‘Vitae’ written on it. She picked it up, dusted it off, and carried it with her out of the library. She would read it later, she decided. For now, she did have to find Genji and discuss their plans for the future. Once again with considerable effort, she was able to open the doors to the library, and with her vitae book under one arm, walked through the temple’s dark corridors.

She noticed, as she walked, a significant more amount of bustle by cultists going through the halls. Of course, usually it took only the slightest statements by Zenyatta to work them up into a tizzy. Still, she could feel Genji’s presence in her mind as she set out to find him--not actively talking to her, or seeking her out (though she could twist the hair lock around her finger for that) but the memory of his promise a presence in and of itself, like the whisper she would leave on her door when she left her cottage.That presence in her mind seemed to burn brighter as she pushed some heavy doors out to a covered walkway overlooking the temple courtyard. Down below, Genji was sparring with three cultists with staves.

She smirked. Genji conjured all of his clothing from the selfsame smoke he used to shift his form--technically he could give himself a shirt, and it wouldn’t make him any sweatier like it would a human, but he did not. The scar from the Witch Hunter’s consecrated bullet still marred his shoulder like a raw pink star. Her eyes trailed to his shoulders as he fought, gripping a staff and spinning it around, deflecting blows from the monks’ own staves. She had seen him easily use his strength to disorient and subdue opponents, but here he fought more like a man than a powerful yokai... or was at least attempting to fight like a man. His leaps were graceful, his blocks of enemy blows either solid and unyielding, or gracefully redirecting the force of the blow. His scars spread and contracted across his skin as he moved, his red eyes sparking with a furious focus.

She was so involved in watching the acrobatics of his form and the dance of muscles on his back that she was caught quite off-guard when a cultist carrying large rolls of paper nearly ran headlong into her, but managed to catch themselves on impact, stumble with their armload slightly, then hurry on.

“Just what is going on with them today anyway?” Mercy murmured, before turning her attention back to Genji.

“There is to be a celebration,” a deep and tranquil voice spoke next to her and she nearly jumped right out of her skin from the surprise.

“How did you just... sneak up on me like that?!” Mercy managed to blurt out, gripping her chest with her heart thumping hard against her ribcage.

Zenyatta gestured down, and Mercy remembered that he didn’t really walk anywhere, but rather floated with his legs crossed in a lotus position.

“...ah,” Mercy brushed her hair back, moving to watch Genji again before catching herself, “Wait---A celebration? Of what?”

“Have you not heard?!” exclaimed one cultist, hurrying by carrying armfuls of something slimy and brackish-smelling that Mercy didn’t want to look too closely at.

“The Master Zenyatta in all his Generosity and love for our worthless pointless forms has declared that he shall stay in this plane for 200 years!” said another, hurrying by and carrying lanterns of black iron.

Mercy blinked several times and looked to Zenyatta.

“I don’t see what they’re so worked up about either, honestly,” said Zenyatta, “I’m only staying to see how the pattern of magical flux in this plane pans out. And...humans live, what, 15,000 years, don’t they?”

There was a pause. “They do not,” said Mercy.

Zenyatta looked thoughtful for a moment. “Oh!” he said, “That was this plane’s sea sponges! I get you all so mixed up sometimes,” He gave a slight chuckle and the mass of tentacles forming the lower half of his face twitched and tickled each other, “But as they say,” he added, catching himself, “There is to be a celebration, tonight, possibly an orgy--they were unclear on the second part.”

“...good to know,” said Mercy.

“I know you are not a devotee, but as a companion and partner of my student, you are invited nonetheless.”

Mercy smiled. “Master Zenyatta, you and your followers have been so hospitable. I don’t know how to begin to thank you.”

“I am thankful to you as well, Witch Mercy,” Zenyatta addressed her in the same manner Genji did--treating ‘Witch’ as what seemed almost like an honorific, “You freed my apprentice from a prison and gave him more focus and direction than I have ever seen him have.”

Mercy blushed a little, “Really?”

“I will admit, I previously saw you as a distraction he was overly invested in, but since you saved him, I see now that yours is a remarkable partnership. While I have felt the magic waning in your plane, I see now that it can flourish in the most unexpected places, shining brilliantly even in adversity.”

“Oh...” Mercy glanced down, but then found her eyes on Genji, still sparring, still scarred and sweaty down in the courtyard and found that that sight did not help her loss for words, “I---Thank you,” she managed, managing to tear her eyes away to look at Zenyatta.

“I know you intend to leave,” said Zenyatta, looking down at Genji, “He is bound to wander as well---but know that you will always find support and safety here. As much safety as this plane can allow.”

Mercy smiled, “If you ever require my help---” she started but Zenyatta put a hand on her shoulder.

“You cannot even begin to comprehend my dealings, but I shall keep your offer in mind, Bearer of the Flame of Creation,” he spoke warmly before floating off.

Mercy turned her attention back down to the courtyard but found that the clack of staff on staff and the thud of blows landing and the shuffle of feet across stone had stopped. The other cultists were talking, some quietly nursing bruises, but Genji still stood out there, looking up at her. In that moment she knew. She knew he knew that she had been watching all that time. Her eyes widened and her mouth drew to a thin line as she hurried off to the interior corridors of the temple.

She knew she meant to speak with him about where they would go from the temple, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it for the rest of the day. His presence in her mind was half an itch now, one she knew she could relieve just by going to talk to him, but her self control told her to treat it as was befitting itches: Leave it alone, and hopefully it would go away. The rest of the day was spent back at the library, with the Vitae book and Junkenstein’s skeptical side-glance upon her. He knew she meant to talk to Genji. He knew she didn’t talk to Genji. He knew her too well and she hated him for it and he was her best friend for it. The preparations for the celebration left her afternoon largely vacant--no bickering cultists meant no gashes or stab wounds to worry about. She let herself fall into an abyss of books, the hours wheeling away until a growling stomach and a setting sun finally managed to drag her from her reading.

She had all but forgotten of the celebrations and was briefly jarred by the merry atmosphere in the temple refectory and the decorations dangling from the ceiling as the cultists all sat on their mats around a great carpet of countless plates of food. Mercy managed to find a seat and was able to sate her hunger on snails and samphire. A carafe of a bitter herbaceous spirit was being passed around, and Mercy filled her little clay cup with that as well and knocked it back. It was a celebration, after all, wasn’t it? She wasn’t quite sure when the music had started--maybe around the time the cultists were getting up from their mats and moving out to the very temple courtyard where Genji had been sparring earlier, but in that square of stone, Mercy saw a great bonfire with crackling green flames. And then there was the music. It bounced off the cold stones and seemed to thrum from her ears to her ribcage. There was a rain-like shake of some grain-filled gourd, two-stringed fiddle, flute, and some long loud wooden instrument that rumbled and croaked, and then the drums kicked in.

The cultists pulled each other into whirling dances, gripping each other’s wrists, hooking each others arms. There was a feverishness about the way they touched each other, like tidal pool creatures bracing for the impact of a wave. And then the music picked up and they were leaping, some lifting others over their heads and twirling them as their necks craned back in ecstasy. Mercy found herself almost hypnotized. The bodies, once previously shuffling around hidden by voluminous black robes were casting off their outer mantles, rendering themselves lithe silhouettes against the green glow of the fire. Even Junkenstein had managed to be pulled into the revelry, his creation tossing him in the air and catching him as Junkenstein swan dove and swept and danced as much as he could manage with a peg leg.

“Glad you could make it, Witch,” a voice familiar and casual, yet honeyed with charm managed to slip over the din of music and the thud of bare feet on stone. Mercy turned her head to see Genji. “I was worried you’d spend all night in that library,” Genji said with a smile.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” said Mercy, shifting where she sat a little.

“Ah yes, I gathered as much by your running away as soon as I made eye contact with you,” said Genji with that half-smile of his.

Mercy reddened and glanced off and Genji snickered before catching himself. “Apologies---What was it you wanted to speak of?”

“Leaving the temple---We don’t worship Zenyatta like they do and it’s bound to get us into trouble at some point.”

“I am the one bound to your service,” said Genji, “Where do you desire to go?”

MeMercy thought for a few moments. “You know... I suppose Zenyatta’s portals leave our options far more open than I’ve been thinking--truth be told my world has been so limited by the wood and my old village and Adlersbrunn... it’s hard grasping the idea that I can be somewhere else--even here,” she looked at the dancing cultists. Genji watched her wistful expression, the reflection of the green flames shining in her gray-blue eyes, making them glitter like an unearthly sea. “It’s almost dreamlike....” her voice softened a little, “It wasn’t like the old woman and I could join in on harvest festivals... I’ve never been able to get this close to people dancing before---or even see people dance like this.”

“Beg pardon?” said Genji, his eyebrows raising.

“Oh--it’s nothing, it’s not important--” Mercy started.

“You’re telling me you’ve never danced!?”

“I’ve danced!” Mercy snapped, “Just... in rituals, you know.”

Genji promptly stood up and held a hand out to her.

“Genji--” Mercy started, nervously running a hand through her hair, “I--we still need to figure out where to go from here.”

“As your demon, I must say that your wellbeing is paramount, and as such it is imperative that we dance.”

“You’re ridiculous,” said Mercy, smiling.

“I managed to get trapped in the same tea leaf pot twice. I’m well aware I’m ridiculous. But this is important,” said Genji, still holding his hand out.

Mercy took his hand and he pulled her into the whirling storm of bodies leaping and dancing around the bonfire. She started out awkwardly bobbing to the music, but Genji took her hands in his and twirled her around, lifted her as if she were light as a feather. She noticed he wasn’t wearing the mask nearly as often these days, nor was he bothering to hide his scars as much. He made her feel light on her feet, redirecting her weight around him easily. She easily lost herself in the dance, just as much if not moreso than her abyss of books. The satisfaction of flow, the feeling of “Yes, this is what I ought to be doing” that was so ingrained in the pursuit that the feeling and the pursuit were one and the same. She only regained her senses with the brief flush of adrenaline brought on by Genji sweeping her out of the path of a cultist who was railing and dancing like a maenad.

“Are you just avoiding helping me pick where to go next?” said Mercy.

“We can multitask,” said Genji, picking her up in a twirling lift that forced a spill of giggles from her, “As you said, with Zenyatta’s portals greatly expand our horizons--Perhaps somewhere with white beaches and warm seas? I don’t know how well you can swim...perhaps a port city, somewhere treasures are being traded daily...”

“Perhaps we should find Satya,” said Mercy.

“There’s a plan,” said Genji.

“I don’t know if there’s anything more she can teach me about the flame, but it wouldn’t hurt to try--even if we have no idea where to start.”

“She has her own path, as well,” said Genji, “Even there is nothing more you can learn, the things I’ve seen you do are breathtaking, Witch.”

Mercy smiled and glanced down, “I was terrified and had so little idea of what I was doing,” she said quietly, “Have you thought about it since then? That night in the cave?”

“Of course,” he said easily. His answer caught her off-guard, “I’ve been puzzling over it, trying to remember more of it, but I was delirious from my true form and my injuries so...” he trailed off, “I remember you,” he said quietly, “You were holding something sharp and black and then you...” he trailed off, took his hands about her waist and pulled her close--the movement wasn’t a sudden jerking of her against him, but a steady pull, in-step with the music. He took her hand and looked at it, studying it for a scar.

“It’s fine,” said Mercy, letting her hand break from his grip and putting it against the side of his face. His eyes on her softened at her touch.

“Still not sure how you did it,” murmured Genji, leaning in, studying her face.

Magic,” Mercy smiled, bringing her other arm around his shoulders.

“I never would have guessed,” said Genji closing the distance between them. Mercy tilted her head to him, her hand on the side of his face guiding him towards her, the bonfire crackling green behind her. Genji drew a breath, taking in the scent of that herbaceous spirit that had been handed around at dinner, moved to drink in more of the scent.

“West,” Mercy suddenly said. The word threw Genji off.

“Pardon?” Genji snapped out of the haze.

“We should search for Satya in the lands west of Adlersbrunn. They probably expect us to flee east---deeper into the forest, they won’t be looking for us in the west.”

“Clever,” said Genji, bringing a hand up under her chin, “See? I told you we could multitask.”

“The task you had in mind seemed to demand most of your attention, demon,” said Mercy.

“It had your attention too, if memory serves,” said Genji as her fingers wove into his hair. Their lips had only barely brushed against each other when they broke apart at the sound of fabric ripping and the music now ratcheting up to a thunderous din.

“What was--?” Mercy looked over to the source of the sound and saw the bare back of one of the cultists, who was now in a writhing mass of bodies. More fabric ripping. Tatters of cultist monk robes flew up like large violet autumn leaves. Mercy’s jaw dropped. While she was no stranger to skyclad rituals, the suddenness and intensity with which the cultists set upon each other was jarring. With all Genji’s talk of cultists stabbing each other there were a few panicked seconds where she expected the frenzy to be violent, but it wasn’t, well, literally violent.

“Ah. So there was an orgy,” said Genji, as Mercy slapped both her hands over her eyes as more tatters of cultist robes fluttered out from the mass of writhing bodies, some falling into the blazing green fire, “Really wish Master was more clear on these sorts of things.”

“Genji!” Mercy’s face was burning, her hands still covering her eyes. She split her fingers apart only briefly to peek through, saw a mass of limbs in what seemed almost reminiscent of the mass of tentacles forming Zenyatta’s face and wondered, briefly if this too was a form of worship of Zenyatta for them, Then she saw that one of the cultists had even further escalated the situation with a summoning circle, then clamped her fingers tight again.

“Yes, I know, we’re leaving, don’t worry,” said Genji, taking her up into his arms.

“Tell me when it’s safe to look--woah!” Mercy cut herself off as Genji leapt, with her in his arms, up to the temple walkway that bordered the courtyard. Genji walked into the interior of the temple and set Mercy down on the stone floor. “It’s sa--” Genji caught himself, “Wait--”

“Wait--? Wait for--?”

Genji lightly kissed the knuckles of Mercy’s hands covering her eyes.

“...ah.” she said.

#gency #witch mercy au #nsfw-ish but not really

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queenxfjustice · 6 years

Text

5 favourite songs and why.

tagged by: @katanabrush tagging: @hydrangeaguard, @jvstapvppet, @empereurvoleur and @attractdistract

I assume this is all OOC so here’s five of My fave songs:

1. Everybody Wants to Rule the World (12″ mix) - Tears for Fears

There's a room where the light won't find you Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down When they do, I'll be right behind you So glad we've almost made it So sad they had to fade it Everybody wants to rule the world

To be honest, I’ve listened to this song and Tears for Fears my entire life cause my mom was a HUGE GOTH/New Wave junkie from the 80s. But it wasn’t until I heard this song in Bioshock Infinite (A game i still find myself sobbing profusely over the ending of to this day) that solidified the song as my all time favourite. I prefer the 12″ mix over the radio edit cause its longer and more awesome.

2. Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me - The Smiths

Last night I dreamt That somebody loved me No hope - no harm Just another false alarm Last night I felt Real arms around me No hope - no harm Just another false alarm

My dumb bi ass is gay and loves the gay anthems of The Smiths, ok? Sue me. It’s also one of their best and last hits before they broke up. Most people would say There is a Light that Never Goes Out is their best hit but nah. That’s just cause y’all heard it in 500 Days of Summer and think you’re cool and hipster. This here’s the real shit.

3. Pornography - The Cure

One more day like today and I'll kill you A desire for flesh And real blood I'll watch you drown in the shower Pushing my life through your open eyes I must fight this sickness Find a cure I must fight this sickness

Honestly, the Pornography album (as well as the other two trilogy albums; Disintegration and Bloodflowers) is the best album by my favourite band ever. The title track on the album is also the penultimate track and possibly one of The Cure’s darkest songs. I’m honestly just a huge fucking Goth at heart.

4. Neighbourhood #2 (Laika) - Arcade Fire

Our mother should've just named you Laika It's for your own good It's for the neighbourhood... The neighbourhood!

Arcade Fire’s debut album Funeral is my all time favourite album. This song is the inspiration for the name of this blog and my personal blog over at @mysilentlullaby.

5. Exile Vilify (for the video game Portal 2) - The National

You've got suckers' luck Have you given up? Does it feel like a trial? Does it trouble your mind the way you trouble mine? Does it feel like a trial? Did you fall for the same empty answers again?

I will forever love Doug Rattmann and this song gives me way too many feels about a stupid puzzle game that is basically a big giant meme now. *SHAKES ANGRY FIST AT VALVE FOR CURSING MY DICK LIKE THIS*

#ooc #muse tunes

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king-of-dads-blog · 8 years

Text

PLEASE REPOST. DO NOT REBLOG.

tagged by: @scngohan

tagging:

- @ilovemygreendad

- @creature-of-mxrvel

- ((If anyone else wants to do this, feel free! I’d love to see them.))

LAYER ONE : THE OUTSIDE

Name: Son Piccolo

Eye Color: such a dark green that everyone assumes they’re black.

Hair Style/Color: Bald.

Height: 7′5, but he can grow to any proportion he wants.

Clothing Style: His purple Gi, his weighted turban, and his weighted cape. He’s not fond or comfortable in much else.

Best Physical Feature: His smile. He rarely smiles, but when he does give a genuin smile he looks like an absolute ray of sunshine.

LAYER TWO: THE INSIDE

Your Fears: Becoming his father and loosing control.

Your Guilty Pleasure: Meditating.

Your Biggest Pet Peeve: Physical affection from people he’s not comfortable with yet. People bothering him when he wishes to be left alone.

Your Ambition for the Future: To right the many wrongs both he and his father caused others.

LAYER THREE: THOUGHTS

Your First Thoughts Waking Up: He already has a list of activities for the day planned, starting from dusk till past midnight. He hardly gives himself a break or veers from the list unless something more opportune comes up.

What You Think About the Most: Gohan and Dende. He cares deeply for both of them, and wants to help them through anything that they might need him for. Later in life his thoughts are filled with Pam and helping her grow.

What You Think About Before Bed: The activities that happened that day and what he could do the next to help better himself physically and mentally.

You Think Your Best Quality Is: Piccolo hardly thinks of his traits unless they are negative. He used to pride himself on his fighting abilities, but after a while he began to become more humble about those things, excepting that he’d never be the strongest fighter-but at the very least he can surpass Goku.

LAYER FOUR: WHAT’S BETTER?

Single or Group Dates: He doesn’t go on dates. At all. But he was probably choose singe so that he and the other could get to know one another better without him being pressured to join in a conversation or worries about being shut out.

To be Loved or Respected: Respected. You can’t say you love someone if you don’t respect them, but respect also means someone sees the good qualities in you, and not just the worst.

Beauty or Brains: Brains. Honestly, he doesn’t even know what ugly and beautiful are.

Dogs or Cats: Cats. Dogs are too rambunctious, and cats can easily rest on his lap while he meditates.

LAYER FIVE: DO YOU?

Lie: Yes, but hardly ever. Maybe once in a blue moon, and even then he more or less just tells white lies. If he wanted, Piccolo could be a successful liar, but he very seldom needs to. Only when he lies to an enemy or plays chess with someone does his skill show.

Believe in Yourself: He used to. Bu after getting beat time after time, he began to understand his own limits more. He knows what he is and isn’t capable of, and he never overestimates himself.

Believe in Love: Yes, and no. He believes that Goku and Chi Chi love each other, and that Vegeta and Bulma are also in love in their own way, but if anyone were to say that they loved him he’d shut them down in a heart beat. He’s never received romantic validation, so he would believe the other is lying at first, or perhaps he’s feel guilty, believing that he somehow lied to the other to make them feel that way.

Want Someone: Not romantically. At least not yet. He’s never found anyone he thought that way with, so therefore he’s never had the need to ask himself what he thought love was.

LAYER SIX: EVER?

Been on Stage: Yes. He’d been to the world tournament in his teen years to fight Goku, and he fought in the Cell games.

Done Drugs: Earth drugs don’t really affect him much, but i’m sure he’s found some of Popo’s stuff lying around and asked about it before.

Changed Who You Were to Fit In: Never. He may get flustered at times, but he strongly believes that he needs to be excepted for who he is. He workds on changing himself everyday, but that’s for himself, and not for others.

LAYER SEVEN: FAVORITES

Favorite Color: Purple, green, red, blue, pink.

Favorite Animal: Slugs, snails, fish, insects (until cell)

Favorite Movie: He probably got convinced to watch an action movie once by Krillin and sat through it. Although he criticized every part of it, it was the only movie he had ever seen, so therefore it was his favorite by default.

Favorite Game: He likes to play strategy games or puzzle games. He probably has a high score in Portal 2. He looses at fighting games. Always.

LAYER EIGHT: AGE

Day Your Next Birthday Will Be: May 9th.

How Old Will You Be: Piccolo will be 26 by the time Pan is born.

Age You Lost Your Virginity: Still hasn’t happened. He hasn’t conceived any eggs, nor has he preformed any sexual acts.

Does Age Matter: Yes, but only slightly. Piccolo would only consider dating people who matched his physical and mental maturity. Humans age much slower than he does, so he can’t be awfully picky. Piccolo was only a few years old by the time he reached the physical maturity of a human teenager, and at age 26 he looks mid thirties to forties.

LAYER NINE: IN A BOY OR GIRL

Best Personality: Someone who has compaction for others, but who’s not a total pansy. He wants someone who can fight fairly well, keep up an intelligent conversation, and who would at least try meditating with him once or twice.

Best Eye Color: He isn’t picky. He likes eyes that have flecks of different colors in the, though.

Best Hair Color: He comes from a race where everyone is bald. He really isn’t one to judge.

Best thing to do With a Partner: Something they enjoy. He is willing to put his preferences asside as long as the other does their best to make him feel comfortable.

LAYER TEN: FINISH THE SENTENCE

I love: my family.

I feel: that i’m starting to become a better.

I hide: my fears of becoming my father.

I miss: Kami.

I wish: that I hadn’t ruined so many good things.

#headcannonons #piccolo #big green

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