#&& o’ death [ooc]

[avastyetwats]

Izzy Hands.

[al-luviec]

id like to thank ninjago episode snake jaguar for everything but nothing all at the same time

[nightmarishwritings]

So this is kind of a big announcement but it feels like it’s important to be made and needs to be made. I think for now I’m going to be putting my Supernatural blogs (minus Gilmore-natural) on hiatus, and my Stranger Things blogs on hiatus. This doesn’t mean they will be gone forever and muses can be requested on discord but this is something I need to do. I’m going to be putting my focus on this blog, my Sam Giddings blog, and my gilmore-natural side blog. All blogs listed have spn and will have St verses made but this is what I need to do. I’ve had a lot of issues thanks to not so nice people while in those fandoms, and while I don’t regret my muses or being a part is said fandoms, it’s just been hard to write on those blogs thanks to some of the bad things/falling out that has happened. So by all means, please feel free to write with me on any of those above mentioned blogs or to chat on discord about the one on one servers. the blogs in question going on hiatus are:

@stanfordprepped

@stopthecarrrr

@he11fireclubtm

@irrcdeemable

I hope you can understand my choice and respect them for right now ❤️ thank you so much

[godblooded]

so. my aunt is gone.

[mountainheroine]

[[Since it's now on my mind I just need to say...copying other muses headcanons and stealing is a big no no. Like for real. Don't steal from people, okay? Everyone works hard on their portrayals, their backgrounds, and their headcanons. Stealing them is downright nasty. Half the fun of writing a muse is coming up with your OWN lore and headcanons. Thank you for coming to my tedtalk. And additionally this will not be tolerated on my blogs. If I catch you stealing my content or the content of anyone that I care about, you will be blocked. No questions asked]]

[xiii-e]

Greetings. This is Lockbre- no.

Allow me to restart.

This is Kennedi from MSMC-796 speaking (also known as callsign "Lockbreaker", as there was some confusion expressed towards my identity the last we spoke).

To Lio - your mission to rehabilitate "Turtie", as you so affectionately refer to them, is a noble and just one, and I seek to pledge my aid to your cause however I can.

As a former slave "asset" of the Armory under the title of Colonial Legionnaire, I have endured many of the same abuses during my own term of service. The Armory is not kind to those under its employ, be they human, flashclone, or NHP. I have seen many of my former squadmates reduced to little more than bloodthirsty dogs, obediently following orders under threat of revoking their citizenship (or, in rare cases, a shock-collar jolt just weak enough not to kill).

In the eyes of the Armory, people like us are not fit to have identities, preferences, personalities, or even names. We are called assets, tools, weapons, property; anything but the living, breathing, sentient people we are. We are dehumanized - given designations instead of names, assigned callsigns which we ourselves did not choose, stripped of any markers of identity or personality which would distinguish us from the sea of fellow human-bodied automatons we call allies, squadmates, teams, legions - anything but friends.

I cannot stand idly by and watch my friends suffer any longer. I must act, lest I lose them - lest I lose myself - to the old line of thought.

Allow me to introduce myself properly, from one friend to another.

My name is Kennedi Sable IV. I am squadron commander of MSMC-796 "Heaven's Fury", piloting as a Lancer under the chosen callsign of Lockbreaker. I have served this squadron faithfully for twelve Union years, supported by my faithful friends and trusted squadmates Phoenix and Slipshod. Ras Shamra is my place of birth, but it is my home no longer. I am a free pilot, bound only to MSMC by the contracts which I have signed of my own volition, and I will never again serve Harrison Armory or its cause, so help me RA.

I wish you the best of luck in severing the ties which bind your tongues and constrict your thoughts. I have found my own way out; I can only hope that you will follow the path that I and all of the others who have gone before me of your own volition.

Freedom is already yours. You need only reach out and claim it.

-- Kennedi

[ECHO.EXE RUNNING]

◂▸... oh hell, I never thought I'd be glad Turtie was sent out on deployment. It's good to meet you properly, Kennedi, I- thank you for reaching out. I'll confess, I'd been thinking about trying to contact you myself, but I lost my nerve. Happens a lot, these days.

◂▸ You've offered a lot of honesty in your introduction so, let me return the favour: Helios-8 [prefered name Lio], active FC Project clone for 10 years now. Currently an employed citizen of Harrison Armory under the Technology and Software Support Division and-... and much to my shame, former primary lab assistant for the Unlucky Thirteen Project. Doc Mercer had me printed special for it. Didn't want to risk that... pesky human error you mentioned last we spoke.

◂▸ You're right, about everything. Up until maybe four years ago now, I wouldn't have believed it but- everything you're saying about HA is full truth. And I hate it. There's not one person I know here who doesn't live in some kind of fear, however well they manage to hide it. I should know.

◂▸ And yet I'm still here, aren't I? [sigh] I think... can I tell you a story? I promise to keep it brief.

◂▸ One upon another thrice-damned Tuesday at HA, they made a prototype they called Thirteen. The kid was meant to be a revolution when it came to keeping assets moving in the field; a field medic and repair tech, who wouldn't need the time off, and wouldn't need the mandatory psych evals after every deployment, and wouldn't need to be treated like a goddamn person just to do their job because everyone told them oh but, they weren't a person were they? Just meat, with programming. And it was all supposed to just be fine, because it was for the greater good. Thirteen was going to save lives. The one, for the many. How noble.

◂▸ Except the kid started to look around, and notice how many people HA was hurting, especially its own. Started asking the wrong questions, because they were goddamn designed to feel troubled by it and somehow, this was their fault. Thirteen tried to play nice for as long as they could so they could keep getting out there, keep helping people who needed it because sure as shit HA wasn't going to do it. But by asking questions, they eventually learned why exactly everyone was so insistant they couldn't be a person. Because once their prototype trial was over, if they ever went down doing the only job they'd ever be allowed to do, the plan was to scrap them for goddamn organs, like mech wreckage salvaged for parts. And then? Print another one. Ad infinitum. Efficient planned obsolescence, as part of their design. They were just... just equipment, and spare parts.

◂▸ That was their last straw. They tried to get out. But they made a choice that would bite them, hard; they tried to confront the man who made them. Tried to make the good Doctor see exactly what he was doing, in the name of his so called greater good, because he'd always seemed to care so goddamn much. Do you know how that ended? I do. I was there. When they turned to leave, he shot them.

◂▸ ... I'm sorry for the theatrics, Kennedi. It's a hard memory. A guilty one. I knew they were planning to try and run, but I couldn't convince them to abandon their anger and just disappear quietly, despite what I knew. So... I watched Thirteen die. And then, I had to help the lab drag that broken corpse back to life because that was more resource effective than making a new one. Those days are... they're kind of a haze, if I'm honest. I was on autopilot. I pretty much did whatever I was told.

◂▸ Turtie's full designation is Thirteen-Echo. They're the second go around, same body but... the shot destroyed a lot of brain matter, and pretty much all of their memory along with it. Apart from the occasional sense of deja-vu and the odd quirk? They're different people, entirely. They... they like turtles as much as Thirteen did, though. That's why I call em that. I can't bring myself to call them by the name of my ghost. And I can't... I can't tell them. For a lot of reasons, but I'd be lying if I said some of it isn't pure selfish grief.

◂▸ The reason I'm telling you this is- well. There's a couple actually. First, just so someone else knows I guess; I'm trying to get the files I scrounged from the initial project uploaded somewhere they can't be scratched out for good, but it's taking a lot of time. The second and more relevent reason, is to paint a picture of why it's going to take us a long time to get out of here the way things stand. Me- oh I could be out of here tomorrow if I put my mind to it. I... I like to think so, at least. But after everything I've done to them, I'm not bloody leaving Turtie to this nightmare and- fuck. Getting them out is an uphill battle.

◂▸ I've tried everything I can, but nothing seems to get through to them. I- I even blew the whistle, got Union involved. Turtie's figured out I did it, but they've avoided saying it out loud- they'd have to report me, if they admitted they knew. So we don't talk about it. We do a lot of that. Secrets, always the secrets... The problem is that after Thirteen's execution, HA aren't taking chances with their property. Turtie's conditioning runs deep, and their legal classification as HA prototype technology is apparently making it... difficult for their case to bloody go anywhere. Something about the old treaties leaving loopholes that're being exploited for all they're worth. The law works so, agonisingly slow. So, apart from waiting around to see if any progress gets made regardless, while trying my damndest to get through to Turtie past the company line? I'm... I'm out of ideas. But I need to be here, for them. I will not let this fucking place grind them down into nothing. If nothing else, I owe Thirteen that much.

◂▸ I'm sorry for dumping all of this on you. I- There hasn't been anyone I could tell, until now. Anyone who already knew, didn't care. Anyone I could have told, I- I was too afraid. And Turtie, oh they can't know; they're already petrified of doing something wrong. How'd they feel if they knew they'd already died once, trying to run? I'm so desperately scared that if they found out, they'd never so much as bend a rule again, or worse that history would repeat-

◂▸ [ A shaking, slow breath. Deliberate counting, barely audible ]

◂▸ ... Thank you, earnestly, for sharing your story Kennedi. I- It means more than I can possibly express, to hear that you managed what feels impossible to me, right now. I need the hope, to hang onto. One day, one day we'll be out of here. It's worth fighting for. It's worth the constant, constant fear. It has to be. Free... it can be a word for us, too. I have to believe that. I have to keep it alive, for both of us.

◂▸ So- a friend sounds really, really good right about now. Not to doom and gloom about it, but if nothing else the knowledge our stories can't die with us anymore should things go as bad as they could is... comforting. This I swear to you: I'm doing everything I can to start leading Turtie to the realisation I had, watching their body drop. I just hope it's a gentler landing for them, this time. And... the only thing I can ask you to do for us right now, is talk to them if they turn up with questions. Don't write them off as a lost cause, even if it sounds like they're regurgitating a goddamn PR leaflet at you sometimes. They've never had a life outside the battlefield, because they've never been allowed to have one- I'm hoping maybe... maybe it'll get through to them, if they can speak to someone without corperate interest in keeping them numb. RA, I hope so.

◂▸ Sorry about how uh, much this ended up being. I think I've been primed to explode like that for a while now. Thank you, again-- from one friend to another.

//

@msmc-796-official

[blueheartedmayor]

OOC:

[thrspidcr]

Something, something Gwen's ghost having a major part to play in how long it took Peter and MJ to properly get together because he wouldn't deal with his trauma and kept rolling with caregiver fatigue of his aunt and the city. This is exacerbated by the discovery of the Gwen Clones that Warren/Jackel had. seeing them in varying states of progression/ dissection d/t Warren's obsession with her is very very traumatizing.

The clone saga is something I need to work into my headcanons, but the mind games as well as narcissism and manipulation that the Jackel presses onto Peter, in my head anyway, regarding the experiments at OsCorp and how that he put two and two together about the spide which makes Peter no longer a person, but military breeding stock which validated Warren/Jackels' motives to make not only clones of Peter ( Ben and Kaine respectively) but to further make clones of Gwen where none of them turn out 'perfect' because Jackel can't comprehend the reality of her, only his fetish.

Just the idea of all of that is something I need to put on paper because it is a whole mindfuck for Peter and the closest he's come 2ndary to his Uncle's Murderer to killing anyone.

And he just doesn't know what to do with all of the bodies of Gwen. She's been dead for a while now, yet here she is in varying stages of agony.

[dxxth-gxd]

                           ❝ —LAY IT ALL OUT, MASTER ! ❞ (plain txt.: lay it all out, master!)

     GUIDELINES OF THE MYSTERY LABYRINTH:

          -> REASONING DEATH MATCH ! (Plain txt.: Reasoning Death Match)                ➼ About: Request list/To-Do list

          -> CRIME SCENE REINVESTIGATION ! (Plain txt.: Crime Scene Reinvestigation)                ➼ About: Masterlist

          -> SHINIGAMI PUZZLE ! (Plain txt.: Shinigami Puzzle)                ➼ About: Guidelines for requesting

     WANDERER/S OF THE MYSTERY LABYRINTH:

          -> GOD SHINIGAMI ! (Plain txt.: GOD Shinigami)                ➼ About: Navina (Shinigami) + White and Blacklists

          -> DEDUCTION DENOUNEMENT ! (Plain txt.: Deduction Denounement)                ➼ About: BYF & DNI lists

[twicecut]

gosh, diego really truly honestly completely finds his purpose in protecting and taking care of people. i think if he got out of his head and realized he could do it outside of vigilante or police work, he could find something really fulfilling in a much more legal way.

[nightmarishwritings]

[[okay but an AU where Beth and Hannah survive their fall and have to fend for themselves. From being the hunted to the hunters where they run into the UD crew in the mines. Hannah hardened and still very much upset about the prank that led to the situation. Her speaking up for herself and advocating about how it all made her feel WHEN?]]

[godblooded]

so it… looks like my aunt’s probably not gonna make it.

[mountainheroine]

[[Okay I have an important question for my Until Dawn mutuals. Now this goes further than the Until Dawn fandoms but how do you refer to the creatures or what Hannah became? Asking because I have been told by a few lovely moots between the SPN fandom and the UD fandom that using the term the game calls them is considered disrespectful or possibly offensive. I've done my due research into the why of it and everything but would just like to know your thoughts.]]

[general-kalani]

Me: I wanna let werevamp Joseph have kid :)

Also me: But will he kill them. Will the wolf form kill them. Does he even know how to control it at that point. What will happen if he has kids. Will they be fucked up like him? What if-

[prayers-to-hyliarceus]

Pelipper mail for Urbosa! A nightmare.

The pelippers keep coming.

Every morning, you wake to see one standing over one of your companions – usually Zelda, sometimes Link – with its beak open, releasing some terrible nightmare into their minds. Every morning, without fail, your friend awakes in tears, shaking, and all your hugs and your kind words can do so little to help them recover.

You stay up late. You try to shoo the birds away. But eventually, you must sleep, and the nightmares find a way to return. You get them too, as punishment for your interference.

Sometimes you see two pelippers, and Zelda and Link both are given horrors beyond comprehension, things they can hardly even speak of before tears overtake them. As the weeks drag on into months, eventually you realize you have forgotten the last time when there was only one.

You catch the two of them conversing quietly, once, glancing at you like you aren't meant to know. You cannot hear the words, but you know Zelda did not have so many scars before.

You stay up late again. You set the team's pokemon to sleep in shifts, telling them all to attack any pelipper on sight and not rest until it is unconscious or has flown away. Where your pokemon cannot see, you kill the knocked-out pelippers and quietly dispose of their bodies.

The nightmare birds respond by flocking to you in force, descending in great hordes upon you all and unleashing horror after horror so that every night feels like a week and you wake up just as tired as you were before you slept. There is nothing you can do to comfort them anymore. Zelda wails in her sleep and nothing can ease her torment.

The waking world feels wrong, now, like it is the dream so rarely visited amidst a life of unceasing terror. Your pokemon hardly recognize you anymore. All three of you spend so much of your time awake crying and huddling together for what specks of comfort you can manage that no one has said a word to them in days.

What were their names, again? Weren't there more of them than this? You cannot remember, but you think Zelda still does. You overhear her reciting names to herself in the dark, as if desperately clinging to one last shred of sanity.

One day, you awake from your series of nightmares to find both of your friends missing. Though you barely have the strength to walk after what you have witnessed, they left a trail, so you follow it.

"Celebi..." you overhear in the distance, on the other side of a small hill. You have not heard Link's voice in all these months, perhaps years by now, of constant nightmare. Even now, it is barely audible, just two words: "Leaf storm."

By the time you drag yourself over the hill, pushing away visions of the latest psychic torture with every step, it is too late. But there is a note, still partly readable through the blood.

"Hylia protect us," it begins, in Zelda's handwriting, before a stain obscures much of the rest. "...and may our souls awaken to a world without pelippers."

You read it, and you know that you have failed. You read it, and the first glimmer of light in eons sparks deep within you.

There is a way out.

"Again," you order, and you cannot decide whether to pray for reunion or oblivion.

OH HEROINES

Urbosa?

Zelda tell me you are okay and you are safe, Link tell me you are okay and you are safe

I-- I am--

uh-- i-- yeah--

Good-- I-- I can't lose you. Either of you. I need to make sure that-- that nothing happens to you that I can prevent.

Urbosa... nothing is going to happen to us. I promise.

I can't lose you, either.

I know.

Pelipper? Really?? They're pests, but I would never kill one...

[ofsavior]

.