#|| and in melee / sparring sometimes one is very close to other and that just - is proven to increase chances of attraction

[twcwheeler]

" Sometimes I forget brawling is like flirting to some-"

"Can't help it, though. It comes from somewhere my backstruts."

[waheelawhisperer]

pointing a gun at you. tell me about Bluebonnet I want to Know

The RWBY version of Bluebonnet is a Huntress from Vacuo who graduated from Shade Academy and remained active in the Kingdom. She's one of the Kingdom's top Huntresses and is well-known for hunting down both dangerous Grimm and dangerous criminals. Bluebonnet has a reputation for taking jobs others are afraid to tackle and is popular among those who live outside the main city as a result. She fights with a pair of revolvers that fire specially modified Dust rounds with various effects, but she's no slouch in melee, as more than one opponent has found out - get close enough to nullify her guns and she'll just beat the shit out of you with her bare hands, just like she was known for doing during her stint in Vacuo's underground fighting rings. She hates Atlas and the Schnee Dust Company for what they did to Vacuo and might be just a little bit of a Qrow Branwen fangirl.

The Arknights version is a Kuranta bounty hunter whose family moved to Columbia early on in the nation's history. She joined the military when she was young and patriotic, but grew disillusioned with military service and left after her third tour of duty, having distinguished herself well enough to have a chest full of medals that always travels in her luggage. She retired to the vast Columbian frontier and busied herself guarding travelers and hunting down criminals trying to hide outside the cities.

Bluebonnet joined Rhodes Island after being hired to guide a team led by Saria through the wilderness to locate a highly-dangerous test subject that had escaped from a Rhine Labs experimental site and offer her sanctuary before either Rhine Labs or the Columbian government could recapture her. She sent in her resume partly because she felt joining Rhodes Island could let her do good on a larger scale and partly because the team she assisted included Saria, Schwarz, and Hellagur and Bluebonnet is very bisexual.

Operator Bluebonnet still fights with revolvers and is one of the few non-Sankta in the setting to show significant aptitude with firearms. She's also skilled at unarmed combat and can frequently be found sparring with the other martial artists in the landship, though she has to be very careful to avoid revealing that sometimes she lets herself get pinned on purpose.

Regardless of setting, Bluebonnet is 5'10", has long, blonde hair, eyes the color of her namesake and a little bit of a tan from spending a lot of time outdoors, and dresses like she just walked off the set of a Western (boots, longcoat, pants, cowboy hat, etc.), except unlike most outfits of this nature, hers includes a titty window (presence of fishnets tbd). Her outfits tend to feature a lot of blue, as befits her name. She's bright, bubbly, and has a Texas-sized heart contained within a Texas-sized chest, and she has to fight to keep herself from falling for any remotely-plausible sob story anyone tries to feed her. She will hug people at the slightest provocation and has gotten punched at least once for ignoring someone's personal space.

Bluebonnet is very friendly and flirty but she's also extremely and tragically single because while she can flirt pretty well, she cannot close to save her life. If it looks like she's about to seal the deal, the universe itself will conspire to prevent her from getting a date. She's frequently hit on and is generally receptive as long as her potential partner isn't throwing up red flags, but she has outright bad luck and things tend to go comically wrong before either she or the person hitting on her actually reach the point of scheduling a date.

Bluebonnet has high INT and decent WIS, but she's somewhat impulsive and sometimes her WIS score will randomly crater. "It seemed like a good idea at the time" is a common Bluebonnet phrase, usually when the medics are patching her up.

[thedilucharem]

A Collection of Headcanons - Sparring Edition! (Part 1 of 2)

Overview of the Win-Lose Ratio

Zhongli - 1:0 (read: one to zero)

Childe - 5:3 (wins more than he loses by a large margin)

Diluc - 8:7 (wins more than he loses by not as much of a margin)

Beidou - 1:1 (wins and loses a proportionally equal amount)

Arataki Itto - 2:3 (loses more than he wins by a large margin)

More under the cut!

Zhongli

There was one incident where the other four did try to fight him all at once, but after they couldn't get up by themselves, Zhongli simply told them that it wasn't fair to begin with.

Not because it was four-to-one, but because it would have to be about fifty-to-one for them to have a chance.

Naturally, that ratio is 1-0.

So Zhongli doesn't spar for the simple reason of the fact that even if he went easy on them, he'd beat them all anyway.

"As much as I would enjoy throwing myself at you all and taking delight in your bodies scattering like chaff in the wind, I am freshly retired. I would much rather enjoy the pleasant calm and peace of mind that comes with drinking a cup of osmanthus tea instead."

Childe

Childe treats the spars like a competition as well as opportunities to push himself, and as such he unsurprisingly has the broadest win-lose ratio among everyone else.

A definitive part about his fighting style is that he loves being up close and personal with whoever he's fighting for the thrill of it. Melee most certainly suits him best in that regard.

He enjoys testing himself by using all the weapons he's mastered over the years against his sparring partners.

Sometimes he'll be using just a polearm and on other days, he'll be dual-wielding blades while also throwing projectiles at his opponents.

He treats his wins and losses as improvement and critique so that he can ultimately become better, often implementing them mid-spar to test them out.

Beidou

Beidou is usually the one asking for spars. She can't afford to lose her edge given her profession and it helps that she finds it fun and refreshing.

While Beidou may not be as specialized as her companions and her (assumed) injured eye is some semblance of a disadvantage, she makes up for it with hardened experience and practical application.

She is the first reason why using Visions is banned because apparently, her full-counter does damage beyond the person on the receiving end doing five seconds of airtime.

I think her fighting style is based on hard and heavy hits that are meant to end the fight quickly, as the disadvantage of being blind on one side would become noticeable after a minute or two.

She uses the spars with them as a way to try and figure out how to properly compensate for her eye, as just swinging a big sword around in a limited radius can only do so much.

Diluc

Diluc treats these spars as transactional first, but it very quickly becomes one of his favorite things to do with the others as he considers himself fairly good at it.

His fighting style is versatile as he has demonstrated, agility, strength, and adaptability in the past, but the claymore that he wields would serve as cumbersome against some opponents.

As he has seen a lot more in his life than most others and does vigilantism on the side, he would have a healthy amount of training as well as experience, influencing how he fights them specifically.

Dare I say, he gets a little too into it sometimes, which is why he is the second reason why the use of Visions in the spars as he and everyone in the vicinity had a tendency to burst into flame.

Every loss and concession in his mind's eye is a lesson to be learned and then properly executed on whatever vagabond is on his to-hit list on his nights of patrol.

Arataki Itto

When I say that this dude has the potential to match up with them and even excel them in some instances, I am deadly serious; it'll just take him a little while to get there.

His fighting style is very much 'I hit it until it stops moving' with a combination of 'I'll power my way through it until I collapse' and it works about 60% of the time.

When it comes to more experienced, specialized, and disciplined opponents, though, that 60% becomes a 5%.

His strength is a boon when it comes to critical weaknesses and flaws in his approach, but like I stated before, raw and brute force can only do so much.

His goal is relatively simple: beat all of them soundly and without room for any compromise or debate. If he can do that, he'll be the best, and goddamn it, he is the best (in his mind at least).

Part 2

[eggtoasties]

dazed bees to honey

Pairing: Shisui Uchiha/Sakura Haruno

Rating: T

Word Count: 6.3k

Better on AO3

Chapter 2

______________________________________

Getting Sakura’s attention had been…difficult at best. Trying to work around his erratic schedule was near impossible given Sakura’s equally hectic schedule and Shisui wasn’t sure how to approach the Hokage and demand that she rearrange his missions to better accommodate his dating schemes.

But, he had never met anyone more alluring—the sway of Sakura’s hips, the creaminess of her skin, the way her eyes lit up when he brought little trinkets he acquired from far away missions. She makes the blood rush to his cheeks when she makes fun of him and he had never known that getting his bones crushed would make him feel like he was the luckiest man on Earth.

She was the sun—bringing him light and warmth like he had never before experienced, and he was the moon orbiting around her. He needed to be closer; he wanted to be consumed by her. She could crack his chest open in two and carve her name in the ribs protecting his heart and it still wouldn’t be close enough.

He just didn’t know how to tell her.

___

Shisui had been idly sharpening kunai at his dining room table waiting for his bread to proof, when he received a summons. Tapping at the balcony door, a small crow was impatiently waiting for Shisui to retrieve the message tied at its foot. Wondering why Itachi sent a crow instead of making the short trip to his apartment, Shisui set his weapon down and ambled towards the sliding glass door, making sure to grab seeds for the summons.

Letting out a squawk, the crow started pecking at his door faster. Alarmed that Itachi was possibly in danger, Shisui shunshined to the balcony and grabbed the crow to get to the message. Puffing its feathers and pecking at Shisui’s hands, the summons squawked indignantly and Shisui offhandedly wondered when Itachi had kept such poorly behaved crows.

Gently releasing it into the air and unfurling the message, Shisui read:

Came back from the mission a few days ago. At training ground 7 if you’d like to join. -S. Haruno

His heart pounded. Sakura was back in the village and she contacted him promptly afterwards to ask to spar? Dough be damned he was sprinting to training ground 7, he thought giddily. He looked down at himself—green fuzzy socks, loose gray sweats, and an old t-shirt—he had to get ready! His cheeks warmed. Wait, he mentally stammered. How did she know where he lived? How did she know where to send the summons to? Did she snoop around his medical files to find his address because for some reason, that made his throat dry.

Running to his bedroom while haphazardly throwing his clothes off, he suddenly stilled again. She had sent him a crow? She had a crow summons? There were a few crow summoners in the village, Shisui reasoned. She could have gotten a contract from Aoba or someone else. But, the thought of Itachi presenting the summoning contract that he had bestowed as a sign of trust and friendship made Shisui frown. As the elder, and the first contract holder, he should have been the one to give her the contract to sign. Or, Itachi should have gone to him and inform Shisui of his intentions.

Nodding to himself, Shisui made a note to stop by Itachi’s house later and question him.

___

Arriving at the edge of training ground 7 in record time, Shisui paused as he saw Sakura and Itachi in their uniforms warming up together. Sakura was in standard uniform sans the flak jacket and Itachi was in his ANBU uniform as always. Shisui fidgeted uncomfortably. He had worn what Itachi rudely called “the douchebag” shirt—a loose black sleeveless top where the arm holes were cut down to the bottom of his ribs. The tank top, Itachi always lectured, could hardly be defined as a shirt since it was so open. Itachi had questioned the practicality of a training top that would leave one so vulnerable to weapons and Shisui at the time, had retorted that he would understand when he was older.

Beginning to wonder if he should discreetly go back home to change, Sakura and Itachi called Shisui over.

“Oh, you came!” Sakura shouted excitedly as she beckoned him towards the middle of the training field.

As he walked slowly towards the pair, Itachi assessed Shisui.

“I see you got my summons,” he said, raising his eyebrow when he took in Shisui’s clothes. “Nice pants.”

Shisui flushed. He had chosen his tightest black training pants. Pants that he knew made his ass look good, thank you very much, but at the moment he was wondering if Sakura would think he was trying too hard. Or worse, he mentally shuddered, a douchebag.

“I was excited when Itachi told me you were in the village. I wanted to work on my response times with you,” Sakura started, interrupting Shisui’s mental torture. His heart fluttered at the thought of her wanting to spar with him and he let out a little breath of relief realizing that the crow was indeed Itachi’s. He crossed his arms in a poor attempt to cover the long slits in his shirt.

“I can dodge pretty much anything,” Sakura continued, beginning to sway on the balls of her feet, pink pony tail swinging with the motion. “But I wanna see how I’ll do against an opponent I can’t hit—or at least that’s what Itachi says,” she said, smiling at him prettily.

The early morning sun illuminated her face and made her green eyes impossibly bright. The faint ring of gold around her pupils winked at him and he swore he could feel his pulse reverberate in his skull. He realized she was waiting for a response. He licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry, and all he could muster out was a weak, “Sounds good.”

Sakura nodded happily and walked a few paces away from him, wringing out her arms. Suddenly pulling out kunai from her holster and twirling them around her forefingers, she faced him.

“Taijutsu only. Ready whenever you are, Shisui-san.”

___

She was fast, Shisui noted. He had expected as much given the way she took him by surprise in her office, cutting his shunshin off. He also factored in the fact that she regularly trained with Itachi, Sasuke, and Kakashi who were notoriously quick on their feet. But, not as fast as him.

Flickering in and out of her reach, he studied her movements with his sharingan. He knew that Itachi was on the sidelines, similarly monitoring her, but Shisui wanted to brand the image of her looking at him like he was prey for the rest of his life. Sakura was an incredibly flexible fighter, he noted. Depending on the type of attack, weapon, and opening he left, she would quickly and seamlessly recalibrate.

There were times her movements reflected Tsunade-sama’s—sharp and fast and meant to obliterate. Other times, Shisui realized, she would adopt Might Guy’s Strong Fist technique, Asuma’s melee style, or most surprisingly, the graceful but precise movements of the Gentle Fist technique.

Bracing a chakra enforced forearm against a kick to his head he asked, “Who taught you the Gentle Fist?”

Grunting and trying to strike his open stomach she responded, “My graduating class has two Hyuugas.” He side stepped away from her punch and flickered behind her. Ducking when she swung a kunai to his head and dodging the knee about to pummel his face, he shunshined a little farther away.

“Hyuuga don’t hide their techniques because no one can use it without the Byakugan, but someone would have had to teach you those movements,” he said breathing heavily.

“Kakashi copies them to piss people off and I was—am close to them,” Sakura said catching her breath. He watched as she pressed the back of her hand to her sweaty forehead and picked the hem of her shirt up to wipe at the rest of her face. Her toned stomach glistened with sweat. Little rivulets of perspiration rolled down her abs and Shisui cursed, damn.

“Was it the little Hyuuga genius? Neji-kun?” Shisui asked, remembering Sasuke’s clear distaste for the boy.

Itachi chose then to materialize in Shisui’s line of vision, cutting his view of Sakura. Pouting, Shisui flash stepped in front of Sakura, startling her while Itachi began his commentary on what and how Sakura could improve as well as ideas for them to try out.

The rest of their morning session consisted of Itachi valiantly trying to train while Shisui cast low level genjutsus of himself telling Itachi to leave. Itachi dispelled the genjutsus, but Shisui relentlessly recast them, sometimes conjuring up little dancing animals or mini Sasukes berating him to leave. Tiring of Shisui’s antics, Itachi dejectedly sat on the ground and began his stretches, saying that they should call it a day.

“Are you alright? You seemed distracted today—I definitely hit you more than usual,” Sakura said kneeling in front of him, raising a glowing green hand to his chest.

“Thank you—I’m fine,” Itachi responded tiredly. “It’s just that Shisui,” he said harshly, glaring at him over Sakura’s shoulder, kept telling me to leave.”

Alarm bells started ringing in Shisui’s head and he looked incredulously at his cousin. His cousin who sold him out. His decidedly, least favorite cousin. He glared back at Itachi. Shisui flashed his dimples which made Itachi narrow his eyes further.

“Sorry, cousin,” Shisui started. “I’m just absolutely starving and wanted to eat—you know how I am when I want something,” he said, throwing his arms behind his head and wiggling his eyebrows at his cousin.

“Annoying? Irritating? Childish?” Itachi grumbled, causing Sakura to giggle. “Sakura,” Itachi started. “Would you want to go to that new bakery in the North District? I’ve only heard incredible things about their rhubarb ice cream,” Itachi said excitedly, ignoring the way Shisui was pouting and lightly kicking at the ground.

Sakura finished healing Itachi and slowly rose, dusting the dirt from her knees and wiping her hands against her thighs. “Ooh, that sounds really nice, but I should probably get real food before I start on desserts,” Sakura laughed.

Not to be outdone, Shisui stepped beside Sakura. “I agree, let’s get lunch Sakura-sensei,” he chirped while resting his hand against Itachi’s head, who was still sitting down. Scowling, Itachi yanked on Shisui’s arm, making his older cousin stumble, and jabbed the back of his knee. Pleased that Shisui was now sprawled in the dirt, Itachi rose and said, “Well, I’m also going to get sesame cookies,” he sniffed. “Good luck with this,” Itachi said to Sakura, poking an incensed Shisui with his sandal. “And thank you for the coconut oil.”

With that, Itachi gracefully straightened himself out and walked towards the edge of the clearing, waving back at Sakura.

___

Shisui and Sakura made their way towards the main hub of Konoha. Excited to be alone with her, Shisui asked her questions about her last mission and her work at the hospital. He listened intently as she recalled the mission details, chuckling when she complained about the humidity in Waterfall, telling her he completely understood while pointing to his curly hair. She talked animatedly about her research project at the hospital. Although he didn’t understand about seventy five percent of what she was explaining, he nodded dutifully, lips quirking as he watched her excited hand movements as she discussed…molecular interventions through pathogenic mechanisms of neurocristopathies—he thinks.

Humming at the right times and throwing in a “oh, really—what does that mean?” every so often, he basked in her voice. Her voice, Shisui decided, was his favorite sound in the entire universe. Wanting to sit down together, he interrupted her briefly to point at the first restaurant he saw.

“How’s ramen sound, Sakura-sensei?” he asked.

“And that’s why normal and pathological neural crest cells—” Sakura, paused. “Oh, Ichiraku’s is fine. Did you know this is Team 7’s spot?” she asked, heading towards the shop. “We used to eat at Ichiraku’s a few times a week,” she scrunched her nose in distaste, “when we were genin,” she finished.

“Itachi says Sasu-chan always complains about Naruto-kun’s ramen eating habits but I didn’t realize this was your guys’ place of choice,” Shisui chuckled. “Does he know that the stand two streets over also does a killer ramen? A gal needs variety if I recall correctly,” he threw in cheekily. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he continued. “There’s also this other place that has great ambience and incredible food—you should come some time?” he voice rising in speed and pitch at the end of the sentence.

Her step faltering, Sakura looked up at Shisui. “Huh?” she questioned at his word choice, “What is it?”

“My place,” he responded quickly, smiling sunnily at her and ignoring the rush of blood to his face.

Shisui’s heart thundered at the way her mouth opened in surprise and he felt his bones reverberate when the tips of her ears turned pink. While she scrunched her nose at the cheesy line, she couldn’t help the way her lips quirked up.

“Well—”

“SAKURA-CHAN!” Naruto screamed, running towards her from down the street, waving both hands excitedly. Behind Naruto, walking at a leisurely pace, was Itachi and Sasuke. Sending Shisui an apologetic smile, Sakura faced Naruto as he spun her around in a hug.

Exasperated, Shisui watched Itachi amble towards him and sent him a mental middle finger. Looking pleased with himself, Itachi didn’t even try to hide his smirk behind his massive ice cream cone.

“Me and teme ran into Itachi-nii and he said you and Shisui-nii were around here somewhere,” Naruto exclaimed. Turning to acknowledge Shisui he said, “Oh, dude nice pants, your ass looks great in them—let’s all get Ichiraku!” he shouted, grabbing Sakura’s wrist and running towards a waving Teuchi.

Shisui stood alone in the middle of the street with his mouth slightly open. Itachi joined his side while Sasuke trailed after his two teammates, not before assessing Shisui’s shirt and pants and throwing him a grimace.

“Tch,” Sasuke said dismissively.

“You love this don’t you, Itachi.”

“Ah,” he responded. Itachi angled his ice cream towards Shisui and raised a brow.

“No.”

Itachi pouted.

___

Bounding ahead to Ichiraku’s, Naruto pulled the chair against the wall with a flourish, exaggerating a bow and extending his hand towards Sakura. Easily following the mimicry of their genin days, she giggled and pretended to ignore him. Sakura took the seat at the middle of the bar which Sasuke quietly pulled out for her.

Pouting, Naruto complained, “Aw, c’mon Sakura-chan, you don’t actually want to sit next to teme, do you? He asked, easing in the seat to her left.

“It’s so she can mediate when you eventually say something stupid to piss me off,” Sasuke said, distributing the menus.

Sakura punched him in the arm in response and turned to chat about the menu with Naruto. When Shisui and Itachi settled into the wooden seats next to Sasuke, Sakura asked,

“How long are you two in the village for?” leaning towards Shisui and Itachi.

“We’ll both be local for about a week.” Itachi offered, now nibbling delicately at his cone.

“They’ve both been easing back on their ANBU duties and are doing more stuff for the clan,” Sasuke supplied, absentmindedly picking at a paint chip on the counter.

Whooping in response Naruto added, “Hell, yeah!” he threw a fist into the air. “Now you guys can train with us more! And Itachi-nii,” he started, leaning back in his chair to look at Itachi, “if you could bring more of those rice balls you made last time, they were incredible, dattebayo!”

Smiling, Itachi leaned back to discuss snacks with Naruto.

“And what about you, Sakura-sensei,” Shisui asked, completely pushing Sasuke out of the way.

Grumbling, Sasuke pushed back at Shisui, which the elder responded by trapping a hissing Sasuke in a headlock.

Rubbing Sasuke’s head placatingly, Sakura said, “I should be staying in the village for the next week too—there’s a lot of hospital stuff I’ve got to do.” Nodding to Teuchi as he placed her order in front of her, she added, “I’m glad you’ll be in the village this week, we should train together again—if you want,” she fiddled with her wooden chopsticks. “It was great to spar with you and watch you, I learned a lot.”

Jealous that he wasn’t invited to the spar, Sasuke wrenched himself from Shisui’s grasp and aggressively ripped his chopsticks apart. Noting his little brother’s behavior, Itachi chuckled and said, “I just told Naruto I’d stop by your training this week, otouto.”

“Tch,” Sasuke responded. But, the way his shoulders relaxed and he smiled gently into his bowl made it clear he was pleased.

“Sakura-chan,” Naruto started. “I feel like I never see you anymore!” he said between bites of ramen. “Let’s do a Team 7 get together—you, me, teme, Kaka-sensei, Yamato Taichou, and Sai too!” he slurped noisily.

“Yeah you’re right,” Sakura sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “With all my projects, the hospital, and,” she waved her hands distractedly, “we haven’t hung out in a while.” Frowning lightly she said, “We could do it at my place, but I don’t know if I could fit everyone…” she trailed off.

Sensing the opportunity, Shisui swooped in. “You should invite your friends over, Sasu-chan,” he mockingly admonished.

Ignoring Shisui’s baiting and staring down at his bowl, Sasuke grumbled.

“Absolutely no-“

“Your friends are coming over?” Itachi asked excitedly.

“No-“

“Yes!” chorused Naruto, Sakura, and Shisui.

“They’re,” Sasuke started, pointing his chopsticks at Naruto, “going to make a mess.”

Ignoring Sasuke’s continued rumblings, Itachi started to list off different food and dessert ideas to Naruto who grew more and more excited by his suggestions if his hand waving was anything to go by. Glancing sharply to his right at an extremely pleased Shisui, Sasuke scowled.

“I know you just took advantage of nii-san’s househusband fantasies,” Sasuke whispered sharply. In the background, Itachi was dreamily listing the various courses he thought would best suit Team 7’s tastes while Naruto and Sakura egged him on with ideas of their own.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” Shisui responded smugly, leisurely slurping his noodles.

Irritated, Sasuke leaned across Shisui to talk some sense into his brother, but Itachi was staring serenely into space, using his full genius brain to plan out dinner. Huffing, Sasuke hunched in his seat and poked dejectedly at his noodles, missing the way Sakura peered past him.

___

Dinner at the Uchiha household was scheduled that Friday—a few days after lunch at Ichiraku’s. Shisui, conscious to not make another questionable fashion choice, opted for black training pants and a traditional Uchiha top—short sleeved and high collared with the Uchiha fan embroidered on the back.

Arriving at the head family’s home, he was greeted by a tired looking Fugaku who wearily told Shisui that everyone was in the kitchen. Laughing to himself, Shisui figured that Itachi and Mikoto had ran Fugaku to the ground with dinner preparations. Trailing after his uncle towards the kitchen, he saw Sasuke tending to a flower bouquet.

“Why are you here?” Sasuke asked, incensed.

He ignored the venom in his younger cousin’s eyes since he didn’t look very intimidating with carnations in hand. Shisui presented a tin-foil covered pan.

“He made shokupan,” Itachi said breezily.

“They should be here any minute! Sasuke, Fugaku, go set the table and get the plum wine out of the fridge,” Mikoto ordered, putting last minute touches on the pastries she and Itachi were decorating.

In a few minutes, there was knocking at the front door and Itachi went out to greet Sakura and Naruto.

“Come on in,” Itachi said happily. Leading them inside he said, “I ran to the store earlier today and got everyone slippers,” pointing to the neat row along the wall.

“Wow, Itachi-nii. You really got this mom thing down,” Naruto noted, nodding to himself.

“You think?” Itachi smiled serenely and Sakura giggled at his pastel yellow apron with white trimming.

“No one else could make it today,” Sakura said frowning. Handing a wrapped plant to Itachi she said, “Yamato Taichou and Sai are out on a mission, Kakashi said he was…busy…” she trailed off.

Humming to himself while inspecting the healthy green leaves of the plant and the tasteful wrapping, Itachi said, “Sakura, you really didn’t have to.” But the pleased look on his face said otherwise.

“Hey! I helped too!” Naruto interrupted loudly.

___

Settling himself at the low dining room table, Fugaku sat at the head of the table. To his right was Sakura, Naruto, and Sasuke. To his left sat Mikoto, Itachi, and Shisui.

“Wow, everything looks incredible,” Sakura gushed at the spread.

Naruto nodded enthusiastically, eyes gleaming. “Mikoto oba-chan, Itachi-nii, you guys really out did yourselves!”

“I helped too, dobe,” Sasuke grumbled.

“I made the shokupan!” Shisui chirruped.

It was a little too much food for the seven of them, Shisui noted. He looked down to the heaping bowl of white rice in front of him with a hearty serving of stew to its right—steam still emanating from both. Each person also had an individual portion of teriyaki salmon, its sweet glaze reflecting the dining room light above them. Sat on the middle of the traditional table, Itachi and Mikoto also prepared stir fried vegetables, soba salad, fried tonkatsu, mapo tofu, and tempura on large serving plates. The dishes took every space of the dining room table, some of it teetering dangerously close to an edge—the table overflowed with intermingling spices and glistening sauces.

Shisui blanched knowing that dessert was bound to be a similarly overwhelming experience.

Saying a brief thanks to his guests, Fugaku uttered a brief, “Itadakimasu,” and began eating.

___

Between the passing of dishes, clinking of chopsticks, and hums of pleasure, easy chatter filled the room.

“Thank you for the coconut oil dear, it works so well,” Mikoto smiled at Sakura over her glass of wine.

Dabbing her lips delicately after devouring several slices of tofu, Sakura shook her head.

“It was no problem—thank you,” she said, looking at Mikoto and Itachi, “for the dumplings. I ate them all in one sitting they were incredible,” she gushed.

Sasuke grumbled beside her, saying he had helped too and that it shouldn’t be physically possible to consume that many dumplings at once, but his mother cut him off.

“I heard we have Hyuuga Neji-kun to thank for the hair tips?” Mikoto teased.

At the mention of Neji, Shisui slowed his chewing and conceded defeat to Naruto, who was not-so-subtly trying to eat all of the tempura as quickly as possible. Shisui looked discreetly at Sakura to see how she would respond.

Sakura was caught by surprise at the comment and her spoon hovered in midair for a millisecond. Processing the joke, her shoulders shook lightly as she giggled and playfully rolled her eyes.

Naruto, with a mouthful of food said, “Neji does have nice hair, ‘ttebayo.”

Choking a little when Sasuke elbowed him in the stomach he stuttered, “A-ah, not as nice as yours, Sakura-chan!” The table laughed at the duo in response.

“Itachi-nii, you should quit ANBU and become a cook, this is the best food I’ve had in forever,” Naruto said dreamily.

Fugaku frowned deeply into his wine. “Yes, Itachi, when will you quit ANBU and fully take on your duties as clan head?”

Fugaku’s shoulder length brown hair had streaks of gray in it, which Mikoto lovingly said made him look refined although she had hardly aged in the past five years. His face showed years of exhaustion and responsibilities with his heavy brow and fine lines at the side of his mouth. His hands were still rough and battle worn despite it being years since his active duty days. Despite it all, his eyes were still keen, sharp as flint, and just as dark.

The rest of the table stilled with Fugaku’s displeasure—the Uchihas either frowning at Fugaku or throwing Itachi an apologetic glance. Sakura and Naruto ate impossibly quicker.

“Well Father,” Itachi started breezily, taking a languid sip of his glass. “You still have life in you yet.”

Preparing for an even more disgruntled Fugaku, Naruto and Sakura nervously chattered about the incredible food, piling each other’s plates even higher, and Shisui off handedly wondered if Sasuke had ever mentioned that Sakura’s appetite matched Naruto’s.

Surprising his guests, Fugaku wearily sighed into his rice bowl. “Son, please put me out of my misery so I can spend time with my wife.”

Over Mikoto’s pleased giggles and Sasuke’s embarrassed choke, Sakura and Naruto stopped their babbling to stare openly at Fugaku. Realizing that their surprise was obvious, they busied themselves again with food, ignoring Sasuke’s second-hand disgust.

“And Shisui,” Fugaku said sharply, cutting off whatever sly retort he had prepared on the tip of his tongue, “when will you fully accept the mantle as the police force commander?” he questioned.

Ignoring Shisui’s attempt at a response, Fugaku braced his hands on the floor behind his back and looked up at the ceiling. “Why Itachi and Sasuke don’t want to take over the police force is beyond me,” he muttered to himself as Mikoto gently consoled him.

Laughing at his uncle’s tiredness Shisui joked, “Well oji-san, given that Itachi’s biggest dream is being a full-time househusband—” Naruto looked incredibly interested at this prospect. “—and mine is living on oba-san’s food for the rest of my life,” Sasuke rolled his eyes at this. “Maybe we’ll make you suffer a little longer.”

Shisui raised his glass to Itachi, who clinked his glass in return, happily sipping the plum wine at the expense of an entirely spent Fugaku who mumbled to himself about shattered retirement dreams.

___

After dinner, Naruto and Sakura helped clear out the dishes despite Mikoto and Itachi’s protests. While Sasuke and Fugaku were relegated to cleaning the dishes, Shisui prepared the tea while Mikoto and Itachi set the table with dessert.

Surprisingly, dessert wasn’t as overwhelming as Shisui thought it would be. There was sakuramochi at the center of the table, elegantly plated in a neat line on a porcelain plate, the pickled blossom leaf folded meticulously over each cake. Itachi’s eyes crinkled towards Sakura while setting it down. Mikoto placed the higashi towards the end of the table, near Sasuke’s seat. The biscuit-like sweet, Shisui noticed amusedly, had uzumaki swirls pressed onto each biscuit. Shisui’s shokupan was also set down alongside a small pot of honey and jam. The last dessert was Fugaku’s favorite: butter cookies. Each cookie was a perfect circle and slightly browned at the edges. But to Shisui’s increased amusement, a black, three-tomoe sharingan was stenciled in icing on each cookie.

Settling back at the table, Sasuke looked at each dessert in growing exasperation before taking in the sharingan butter cookies. He glanced at Itachi in thinly veiled disbelief, but Itachi was intently staring at his guests’ reactions.

Sakura and Naruto had expressions of awe on their face. Naruto, with one hand on his protruding stomach looked a little nauseous when he said, “Wow…you really went all out on this team dinner…it looks so good dattebayo,” he finished weakly.

Sakura, trying to make up for her teammate’s lack of gusto quickly chirped, “I’m SO impressed with your icing skills,” she gushed, “I tried once and it was a complete failure,” she pouted, running a hand through her ponytail. “I’m so full from that incredible dinner but we’ll,” she quickly darted her eyes to Naruto, “make sure and try everything,” she finished, silencing Naruto’s protests.

As Itachi went prattled on the fine details of piping, not icing, because they’re obviously very different, Shisui idly wondered if Sasuke never hosted team dinners because of Itachi.

___

As everyone forced themselves to eat as much dessert as possible for Itachi’s sake, at the head of the table, Mikoto was cajoling her husband in hushed tones and nudging him with her shoulder.

“Sakura dear,” Mikoto started, which silenced the rest of the table. Mikoto turned her head to her husband. He responded by straightening his back and clearing his throat a few times.

“Sakura,” he started stiffly, not quite looking her in the eye. “Thank you,” Fugaku said, “for your work with the clan medics.

Shisui looked at his uncle, then Sakura in surprise—he hadn’t known just how close she was to the Uchiha clan. Looking around the table, no one else seemed to be surprised with her work, more so surprised at Fugaku’s thanks.

Sakura smiled kindly at Fugaku and Mikoto. “You’re welcome, the sharingans a tricky kekkai genkai and the blockages in the delicate blood vessels are definitely hard to work with, but working with Sasuke and Kakashi gave me a leg up. I’m just happy you allowed me to treat your clan members and train your clan medics.”

“With your instruction, Sakura-chan,” Mikoto began, “nearly every clan member has noted a mental and physical improvement. The Uchiha owe you a life debt.” Fugaku, Itachi, and Sasuke nodded in agreement.

Blushing at the compliment, Sakura shook her head. “Thank you, but you all don’t owe me anything. The payment, as agreed, was fully enough.”

Shisui paused. He hadn’t realized that Sakura had found a way to ease the pain the sharingan brought. Having awoken his mangekyo at an extremely young age, he was used to the near perpetual eyestrain and frequent migraines that came with overuse. He had given up on his clan medics’ treatment for his eyes since they’d been ineffective over the years. Incredibly interested at the prospect of relieving his pain he quickly turned to Sakura.

She was still talking to Fugaku and Mikoto, trying to convince them that they didn’t have to commit to any favors for her, and all of his thoughts stilled. She was talking with her hands, trying to explain that she was just glad to be of service to her teammate’s family, and by extension, the village. That no one should be in chronic pain if there was anything she could do about it. Her cheeks were flushed with the wine, and he was taken by the fullness of her lips. Wet with the plum wine, they glistened in the soft overhead light. Every so often, he could see a glint of her pink tongue as she laughed, or caught the corner of her lip.

Noticing that Itachi was staring at him with amusement, Shisui mentally shook himself out of his stupor.

“Ne, Sakura-sensei, I hadn’t realized you figured out the sharingan. Any chance I could schedule a doctor’s appointment with you?” He smiled cheekily at her, ignoring the way Sasuke and Naruto threw daggers at him.

“See, Sakura-chan,” Mikoto said, “you take such good care of our boys—no matter what you say, we’ll always be in you debt.”

“Mikoto-san—” Sakura looked down at her shirt—a standard issue jounin top—which now had a dark wine stain blooming at her stomach.

Naruto looked sheepishly at her, grabbing his napkin. “Sorry…at least it wasn’t your kimono this time?” Naruto said as he dabbed.

“Aw man,” Sakura complained, “this is one of my last good ones too.” While it was customary for shinobi to keep one or two sets of pristine uniforms for show—if they were on guard duty for a prestigious client, or to maintain appearances for foreign dignitaries—the reality was that most shinobi were running around in repeatedly stained, slightly tattered, hole riddled uniforms until they were unwearable.

Getting up to rinse her shirt in the sink, Mikoto stopped her. “Let me get you something to change into,” she said, rising from her seat. At the same time, Sasuke stood up, saying he’d get something of his, and missed the way Shisui had grabbed the back of his own shirt collar and started to undress. Itachi yanked the hem of Shisui’s shirt down and Fugaku stared at Shisui like he was stupid.

“No, no, sit back down Sasuke,” Mikoto said quickly, “look how pretty Sakura’s hair is today,” gesturing at her pink locks, “I’ll have to get her something of mine.” Mikoto placed a hand at Sakura’s upper back and ushered her along.

Sitting back down, Sasuke stared after his mom and teammate in silent confusion over the correlation of Sakura’s everyday pony tail and clothes.

After a few minutes, Mikoto and Sakura shuffled back into the main dining area. Mikoto walked slightly behind Sakura, staring intently at her sons’ and nephew’s faces. Catching the glint in her eye, Fugaku sighed.

Sakura changed into a loose black sweater with an Uchiha fan stitched on the breast. The sweater itself had a similar cut to the jounin top, and was slightly loose on Sakura’s frame. Seeing his teammate, Sasuke furrowed his brow. He had several shirts exactly like that. Sakura also probably had several shirts like that—it wasn’t particularly nice even—why did it have to be his mother’s, he wondered. What does it have to do with her hair—did ponytails have some significance he hadn’t known about? Deep in thought, he continued to scrutinize while Itachi happily munched on butter cookies. Glancing nonchalantly at Sakura he offered a “Hm,” and went back to cajoling Naruto into eating more.

Shisui was gone. The thought of Sakura wearing his clothes with the Uchiha fan would be forever branded in memory. He imagined quiet mornings with her as he made her coffee as she got ready in the mornings. He imagined how she’d look wearing one of his t-shirts—the oversized fit exposing the cream of her shoulder and him kissing the open space.

He watched her as she spoke. The slender curve of her neck, the peach fuzz on her cheeks, and the irresistible plumpness of her lips mesmerized him. Shisui felt the rush of chakra to his eyes, activating his sharingan, and quickly turned his head.

“Thank you for the meal,” Sakura said, rising from her seat, bowing to Mikoto and Itachi.

“Yeah, dinner was great thank you so much!” Naruto chimed in. “Ne, ne, Sakura-chan,” leaning towards her with a glint in his eyes, “why don’t you stay and sleepover! It’ll be like our genin days!” Naruto cheered.

Lightly grimacing, Sakura responded, “I have a shift at the hospital at six in the morning—maybe next time,” she apologized, although she didn’t look sorry at all.

“It must be exhausting having multiple full time jobs,” Itachi said sagely, still munching on butter cookies.

“Yes.” Fugaku deadpanned. “I wonder.”

Completely ignoring his father, Sasuke got up and heaved Naruto with him as well. Nodding to his mother, he jutted his chin to Sakura then jerked his head at the door.

“God, teme—use your words!” Naruto yelled, swatting the back of Sasuke’s head. Ducking before Naruto could hit him, Sasuke jabbed the side of Naruto’s stomach, grinning when he doubled over and wheezed. “W-we’re gonna walk S-Sakura-chan home,” he managed to get out, glaring at Sasuke from his hunched over position.

Seeing his chance, Shisui shot up from his seat and clapped a heavy hand onto Naruto’s back, forcing the blonde to stay hunched over. Cheerfully he said, “I’ll do it! My apartment’s on the way anyways and you’re staying here!” Squeezing Sasuke’s shoulder forcefully, Shisui grinned at his younger cousin trying not to flinch in his vice grip.

Raising a brow, Sakura looked at Shisui unimpressed, although the corner of her lip was curling. Itachi mirrored Sakura, except he was actually unimpressed. Fugaku massaged his nose bridge and his wife hid her smile behind her hand.

“Sasuke, Naruto, come help with the dishes,” Mikoto said.

Sakura gave once last bow to Sasuke’s parents and waved at her friends before heading out.

___

Sakura’s apartment was not on the way to Shisui’s. In fact, it was on the opposite side of the village.

But, there was no way he’d miss the opportunity to talk to her one-on-one without the intrusion of pesky teammates or baby cousins. They walked leisurely side by side, shoulders occasionally bumping, as he basked in her undivided attention. The walk to her apartment was made in quiet tones, careful not to break the stillness that surrounded them.

Crickets chirping in the background and the moon softly illuminating their way, Shisui, for the first time with Sakura, felt at ease. He wondered if maybe they were meant for this—quiet conversations under the moonlight, with her wearing the Uchiha crest.

[razieltwelve]

Prophecy (Final Rose)

Aquila scowled ominously at Diana. “Could you stop rubbing my head. I’m not a magic eight ball.”

Diana cackled at the other girl. “I don’t know. You’ve got Seer powers just like your mom, which means you kind of are like a magic eight ball.” She rubbed Aquila’s head. “Magic eight ball, tell me who’s going to win the fight between Weiss and Rin!”

“...” Aquila reached up and grabbed Diana’s wrist. “I will stab you.”

“Is that a prophecy or a promise?”

“Both.” Aquila huffed. “Don’t think you can boss me around just because you’re a year older. I’m taller than you now, you know!”

“You might be taller,” Diana replied. “But I possess world-ending monster power!” She rubbed Aquila’s head. “Now, bestow your wisdom upon this humble petitioner!”

“Stop being an idiot.” Averia grabbed Diana and put her down a good two yards away from Aquila. “Aquila, if you actually want her to stop rubbing your head like a magic eight ball, you should stop blushing like crazy when she does it. She finds it adorable, which is why she does it in the first place.”

Diana nodded sagely. “It is very adorable.”

Aquila responded by petulantly throwing a pebble at Diana. The pebble hit Diana square in the forehead. “Really? You didn’t dodge?”

“Why would I? You could throw a boulder and it wouldn’t do anything.” Diana rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “As the older and bigger - metaphorically - person, I thought I’d let you have a little win.”

“...” Aquila sighed. “Please, tell me that you didn’t drag me out here just to ask me who would win the fight. I know you and Aunt Vanille are running a betting ring, so I’m not going to tell you anything.”

“She probably dragged you out here, so you could take a break,” Averia replied. “Since she can tell you’ve been stressing about who might be on your team next year. You’re about to go into your first year at the Junior Academy, so they’re still trying out team configurations, but they usually like to settle on something just before the year starts.”

“...” Aquila scowled. “You know, I hate how observant you can be sometimes, Diana.”

“Hey, I’m not just a troll. I have eyes.” Diana waved her hands around. “I can even have extra eyes if I want. In fact, I could cover myself with eyes...”

“Please, don’t.”

“Anyway,” Averia said. “Diana doesn’t even need to ask you who’s going to win. She already knows. We both do.”

“Oh?” Aquila asked. “Is that Saviour and Ragnarok talking or Averia and Diana?”

“A bit of both.” Diana held her hand out to one side and gestured. A squirrel ran out of a nearby tree and settled on her arm. Aquila shook her head in disbelief. Diana had already weaponised the campus’s squirrels. “The future is always in motion, but the odds are pretty clear.”

“Simply put,” Averia said. “Given how short a period she’s had to prepare, Weiss has almost no chance of victory. She simply cannot hit both hard and fast enough to keep Rin from closing the distance. If goes for harder hits, she’ll be too slow. If she goes for faster hits, there won’t be enough oomph behind them. Given that, it is a near-certainty that Rin will be able to close the distance. At that point, Weiss is going to have to hold her off in melee combat.”

Diana shrugged. “I’ve sparred against both of them. Rin is good. Really good. I’d put her just a little bit below Yang in hand-to-hand combat, but she’s really crafty too whereas Yang tends to just swamp you like a tidal wave. She’s also spent most of her life sparring against people with weapons whereas most of Weiss’s practice has been against people who are also using weapons, not people who prefer hand-to-hand combat.”

“So you’re saying Weiss is doomed?”

“She’s in a lot of trouble is what we’re saying,” Averia said. She dodged the pebble Diana threw at her and raised one eyebrow at her sister before leaning to the side and catching the squirrel that leapt at her. She stared at the squirrel for a moment, glaring at the animal, and then throwing it back to Diana. “But this might be good for Weiss. You often learn more from losing than you do from winning.”

“How often do you lose?” Aquila asked.

“Ask my parents,” Averia replied. “I generally feel like a piñata after a spar with either of them.” 

“Just be glad they’d actually hesitate to stab you.” Diana chuckled. “I end up walking out of my sparring sessions looking like a porcupine.”

“What do you think will happen if Weiss loses?” Aquila asked.

“I think she’s going to be extremely mad.” Averia shrugged. “She’s going to see just how big the gaps in her skillset are, and she’s going to be enraged that they’ve been allowed to get that far. She’s going to look back on the tutors who coddled her, and she’s going to wonder why none of them pointed the flaws out. She’s also not going to be happy with Ruby.”

“Oh?”

“Ruby takes it easy on her,” Diana said. “Because she doesn’t want to make Weiss mad since they got off to an awkward start because of how young she is. I mean, I get it, Ruby is a prodigy, but Weiss was expecting to either be team leader or for Yang to be team leader since they’re the same age.”

“And Ruby is really nice,” Aquila murmured. “So she probably didn’t want to go all super mega reaper death scythe psycho on her?”

“Super mega reaper death scythe psycho?” Averia asked. “Who came up with...” Aquila waggled her eyebrows at Diana. “Of course, you’d come up with that.”

“Hey, it fits.”

“Kindness can kill,” Averia said quietly. “Ruby is a brilliant fighter - a true prodigy - and her grasp of small-scale tactics and adaptation is fantastic. But she needs to learn to see the bigger picture, and she needs to learn when a firm hand is needed. I suspect that one of the reasons the headmaster allowed Rin to make her challenge so early in the year is because he wants to teach both Weiss and Ruby a lesson.”

“Games within games.”

“It’s something the headmaster specialises in.” Averia’s brows furrowed. “My mother had to learn the opposite lesson with her team, that she couldn’t simply run over people and treat them without mercy if she wanted them to actually follow her instead of being dragged along.”

“She was a tyrant.” Aquila shuddered. “The stories are legendary.”

“She is a tyrant,” Diana said, grinning.

“Either way, Weiss is going to be extremely not happy about her loss. I believe it’s going to motivate her in a way few things ever have. She’s going to go after her weaknesses like a woman possessed until she feels she can challenge Rin back and win.”

“And how will Rin take it?”

“She won’t gloat much,” Diana said. “I think, if she and Weiss’s families weren’t enemies, that she’d actually quite like Weiss. I know that she respects her. She’ll assume that Weiss is going to come after her later, so she’ll train like crazy too.”

“Just as the headmaster intended?” Aquila asked.

“Probably.”

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

Aquila is the second child of Caius and Yeul. She’s the one who got the Seer powers and is her mother’s successor. Trajan is 17 whereas Aquila is 13. This makes her one year younger than Diana who is 14. She’s about to enter the Junior Academy, so she’s spending some time at Beacon just seeing how everything works and trying to find out who is on her team. Despite being a year younger, she is indeed slightly taller than Diana (at least for now).

[pixelatedrose]

read this and respond (if you’d like) when you aren’t in the car anymore, i don’t want you to get sick :0 !

you don’t apologize for not be able to write a lot! you didn’t have to answer my ask in the first place but it means a lot to me that you did :) also! i wanna say two things! one, i think i’ve said this before but i really like how you explain things. i’ve tried to learn how to play d&d and i think i’ve got a solid understanding of it, but it’s still hard when people say things like “10 AC”. but i don’t have to worry about that when you explain things cause you sorta dumb it down in a way that doesn’t make me feel dumb.. if that makes sense. two, i love how you showed callahan being healed in your drawing cause it just adds so much more weight to the picture. and i can’t even imagine how that fight was, dancing with death the whole time, that must’ve been so stressful. anyway! that’s about all, but you still have a lot of explaining to do (if you want and when you’re ready) mister >:0 i hope you had a lovely day and you enjoy the rest of your night, love you ro :)) !

1st: dw bout me answerin asks in the car lol I have no fuckin self control sksjshs

2nd: thank you sm m8!!! I know you've mentioned in the past that you don't play d&d or know a ton about it so I try and give little explanations where I can and it's great to hear that I do it in a non-patronizing way

3rd: heheheee okay so imma go into some more detail on the Callahan & Shade training session-

Okay, so.

To understand how we got to this point in time, we have to understand where he was

The party entered the Shadowfell- a mirror plane of existence where everything is contorted and dark and just about everything wants to kill you. This is where we were trying to get to when Callahan first joined the party.

Now Callahan didn't have a full grasp on what the Shadowfell was, really, when he went through the portal. The only one who did was Sylas, and by all the gods did he try to warn us.

Callahan was still so very very unprepared...

The very first fight in the Fell- one of the first battles Callahan has EVER been in in his life- he gets one-shotted by this monster and drops below zero hp.

When you drop below zero hp in d&d, you're Ina state of in between life and death, right on the cusp of either one and a breath's wrong move could send you toppling over the edge. You stay in this state of dying until one of three things happen. 1) you get healed. 2) you succeed three death saves and you stabilize. Or 3) you fail three death saves and you die.

Callahan had succeeded two saves, but he had also failed two. One last roll would have determined his entire fate, and I'm not known for having the best of luck when it comes to dice.

Sylas, our lovely amazing wonderful cleric boy, barely made it in time and slapped Callahan with a healing spell right after the monster died and he regained consciousness.

This...messed him up.

Callahan was absolutely shaken to his core at this very close encounter with death and he did not handle it well.

He got furiously angry, ignoring the fact that it was him that brought him to the Fell, and instead shifting the rage to the rest of the party and blaming them for his being there and, by proxy, his almost dying.

He...said some things...that shouldn't have been said. At least not like that...

And the worst part? It didn't get better. He was fitful and angry and upset at everyone for weeks.

Finally, Haru was done with Callahan's baby-bitchfit and when Callahan snapped at Monty (again), Haru got up and dragged Callahan out into the forest a little ways away from the rest of the party.

And what did he do?

Well he punched him.

Well, more than that. He told Callahan to fight back too. Soon fist-fighting turned into hitting each other with sticks, which turned into Haru having to tackle Callahan to the ground, leaving Cal the perfect opportunity to steal the dagger off his belt and ramming the pommel into his ribs.

Cal would like to say he won that fight. Haru would have something else to say.

After laying there on the ground for a moment, Callahan started to laugh. A sound that Haru had not heard in weeks, and one he didn't know he missed.

Haru explained that he wanted to teach Cal to fight so that what happened with that first monster? Where Cal nearly died?? So that that would never have to happen again.

Something about it- maybe it was something about Haru- calmed Callahan down.

And then it really hit him.

Oh fuck.

I've been a jackass for weeks to literally everyone.

It also started to hit him just how weak he really was in a fight if it ever came down to melee.

So they came back to the party together, Callahan happier than ever with little scrapes and lookin very roughed up (I won't say but the rest of the party did not in fact think they were sparring-)

Callahan apologized to Monty the next morning. The things he said specifically to him were...well...let's just say it hit harder for Monty than the others.

Monty wasn't as quick to forgive and forget. Callahan doesn't blame him.

However, that night Callahan and this new party member- Shade- were on a watch together. Now Shade is a much higher level than everyone else in the party, and is far far more powerful. He's a Hexblade Warlock, but he's also a fallen paladin (or cleric I can't remember) as WELL as a fallen Aasimar (kinda like a fallen angel but watered down). But...also probably a Shadow sorcerer?? Listen Shade is an amalgam of magic and power and idk where all of it comes from-

In any case, Shade is big powerful lad.

Now Cal and Shade are on a watch together, and Shade begins talking about Callahan's magic. He picks up a small opal stone from gauntlets he wears and focuses his magic into it. The opal glows with a black light and swirls with shadows of purple and black. He then hands the opal to Callahan and instructs him to focus his magic like he did.

When he does, the opal changes again, but this time, it swirls with bright, ever-changing array of fantastical colors. A rainbow of things that have never quite been seen before. It's extraordinary.

Shade explains that his own magic is that of the Shadowfell, it's dark and thus his magic is sewn from the shade. And then he explains that he's met other mages- ones with powers of the storm, magic of dragons- but he has never seen someone with magic like Callahan's.

Why?

Well, cause Callahan has pure, unfettered, untained, raw magic inside him.

It's an inferno of unbridled magic and it is completely and utterly entirely untamed. It cannot be controlled and it is as wild as the wind and earth itself. And sometimes, that uncontrollablity lashes out and surges forth, and sometimes things that Callahan doesn't exactly want to happen, happen.

And Callahan listens. And his heart sinks. Uncontrollable? Pure?? Absolute chaotic force of magic??? He can't stand the thought of not having a handle on his magic, because if he can't control it, how the hell is he supposed to use it to protect people??

He expresses this to Shade and the "older" man tells him that he can and should use this to his advantage.

At that moment, Callahan's magic goes wild and he surges. The wooden log they are sitting on, under Callahan's hand it starts to faintly smoke. Callahan doesn't notice, but Shade does. He cuts a small piece of rope and asks Cal to hold it for him. The rope errupts into flames and Callahan drops it in vibrant shock and distress.

Shade calms him down and explains that he can use that. He gets Callahan thinking. Asks how he can use this to help in in battle- he can set things aflame with a touch, for God's sake, what can he do to use that?

And Shade looks at Callahan's small scratches and bruises and scuffs on his clothes and turns and says "I know that look...you've been sparring, haven't you?"

Callahan nods his head. He says that Haru said he'd teach him how to fight, that he wants to- needs to- be stronger.

Shade asks if Callahan would like Shade to help him as well, help him learn how to use his magic to fight.

Callahan says yes.

They start small, Shade borrows Haru's sword in his sleep and gives it to Cal to use. Shade goes through the motions of explaining how he uses his magic to help him wear armor and wield weapons- how he manipulates the pull of power inside him into his blade, into his armor, how he makes them seem lighter and easier to use and wear.

And Callahan follows suit. He goes through the motions of swordplay, focusing and directing his magic into it. And slowly, it seems the blade gets lighter and light in his palm.

After a little while of this, Shade says that he would like to try something to really help Cal in the middle of a real battle. And he summons a demon.

Now, as Shade summons this demon, he explains that he has control over it. That the demon cannot do anything that Shade does not want it to do. The demon is not pleased with this.

In fact, with shadowy chains around its neck and wrists and ankles, it seethes and hisses and spits that it will tear and murder and shred Callahan and Shade to scraps. Shade reassures Callahan that he won't let it kill him. But he asks one last time if Callahan wants to do this.

And with a glance at this horrible creature with blood and murder in its eyes, Callahan's grasp tightens around his borrowed blade and he nods yes.

And so the fight begins.

Callahan uses his magic and filters it into the blade in his hands and tries to strike the beast. He hits it a few times, but the monster keeps hitting Callahan back, and he drops down to 1 hp.

As the demon cackles and pulls back for one final attack, Shade pulls down on the shadowy chains and restrains it. It howls in fury at this.

Shade asks Callahan if he wants to stop, that if he really wants, Shade knows a way to help Callahan keep going.

Callahan, bloody, sliced up, fighting for consciousness and blinking red drops from his eyes, hands on his sword in a white-knuckled grip, the blade digging into the ground as the only thing keeping him upright, looks Shade deep and deadly in the eyes, his goggles hung slightly cracked around his neck. His eyes have a burning flicker to them and with no hesitation to his words, he speaks. "I need to be better."

Shade takes a moment and the faintest ghost of a smile flitters onto his face and he says "That was the right answer." And he begins to heal Callahan with Greater Restoration.

Now, I could be wrong either with what the spell does or what spell he actually cast, but what happened with this spell was this: he could restore an incredible amount of hp to Callahan, but he would TAKE half the hp he restored as damage to himself. So if he healed Cal for 10 points, Shade would take 5.

This first time he ended up healing Callahan all the way back up to full.

And back to the fight they went.

This happened four more times, where Cal dropped below 10 hp and Shade had to stop to heal him for a moment.

Finally, Shade asked Callahan one last thing.

"I can do one more thing to help you learn the movement of battle, but it would mean releasing him. You don't have to do it, but-"

"You're wrong. I do have to- what would that make me if I backed down at the first sight of risk?"

"...you've made a good choice."

With that, Shade released the Demon, who was battered and torn and nearly as destroyed as Callahan himself, if not far far more. And he let out a ravenous cackle, full of craze and bloodlust and victory. And he looked Callahan directly in the eyes and told him "This is where you die!!!"

Four more rounds.

Callahan had messed up his magic once before in the fight and his magic had surged, giving him the ability to teleport short distances for the next minute.

And his magic messed up once again, poisoning a random creature near him. Luckily, it wasn't Shade, but the Demon was immune to poison anyway.

But as Callahan took hits, he dropped below 10 hp again, but there was no more looking to Shade for help anymore.

He took one last swing, a move of the blade that felt more dance-like than any sort of movement to kill, and he cut the demon clean a sunder- a trail of the blade that ran from one shoulder across to the bottom of its boney hip- and the demon let out a croaking, creaking, collapsing gasp of air that could have been mistaken for a strangled last cackle of defiance.

And then it fell over, a position of defeat that Callahan may have been had he not made the surer move.

And Callahan stood above it all.

Alive.

Alive and by his hands alone was his enemy gone.

Alive and by a blade he used with magic in his veins was he that way.

Alive and the victor over a demon.

Shade healed Callahan one last time, nearly collapsing himself from the loss of life energy. He managed to gain some of it back by summoning small imps that he then proceeded to suck the life out of, but it still took a bit of a toll on both of them.

They went back to the party where everyone lay sleeping, none knowing the exchange that had happened that night.

The spoke for a while longer, Shade telling Callahan of his past while casting the mending spell on his destroyed and torn clothes.

Their shift ended and they woke up the next pair for watch and went to bed.

And now did Callahan forget to tell anyone else about what had happened?

Yes absolutely.

Did Haru end up finding out because 1) Callahan had a fresh magical scar on his cheek and 2) Callahan forgot to give Haru back his sword?

Yes absolutely.

Was Haru pissed off that Callahan basically almost died multiple times and go into full protective boyfriend mode after he found out?

Yes absolutely.

Anyway long story time but I hope you liked it ;D

[coriandher]

Big thanks to @falloutfandomeventhub and @yesjejunus :D fun to do!

General

Name: Doctor Camille Ng

Aggression: Aggressive

Confidence: Brave

Assistance: Helps nobody

Karma: Evil

Location: Bitter Springs Medical Tent, Callville Bay if camp is massacred

How To Obtain: pass Perception check, spar her, or kill the camp

WARNING, further reading contains mentions of slavery and eugenics. The Vestalis usual

Companion Wheel

I think we should travel together: 

“Remember, natural selection will take out slow walkers.”

“Wacky adventures with the Mailman!”

Use Melee: 

“Promise you’ll cover me”

“(lightly humming Butcher Pete)- chopping that meat”

Use Ranged: 

“If I hit you, discount coupon on treatment”

“Their post mortem will be… ever seen a swiss cheese?”

Open Inventory: 

“Anything new you’ve got?”

“Hoarding is a disorder y’know”

Stay Close: 

“(mumble) -at least dinner first”

“Okie dokie”

Keep Distance: 

“Oh… did I do something wrong?” 

“But :( I thought you liked me…”

Stealth:  

“Lay low. Try to, yeah shh”

“Tiptoe-tiptoe”

Back Up: 

“Sorryyyy”

Be Passive: 

“Yeah yeah, peace, no war, ring around the rosies”

[If Under Attack] “Here?! Now? I’ll PASS on that!”

Be Aggressive: 

(cracks neck)

“Make way, medic coming through”

Use Stimpack: 

“Dosage correct?”

“It’s not spiked with anything right?”

“Where are you injecting?!”

Wait Here: 

“O..kay?”

“Like, stand still here?”

“Can I wander around at least?”

Follow Me: 

“Where did you go?”

“Yay :D It was getting boring”

“Continue adventure!”

Send to the Lucky 38: 

“Oh that fancy place. Take care out there!”

Send Home: 

[Bitter Springs] “Hope the Lt’s more reliable (sigh) Back to volunteer work”

[Callville Bay] “How fast do Cazadores hatch? I should make notes”

Injured: 

“Rookies think this is deep”

“Son of a- fuck”

“Stimpak, stimpak, stimpak!”

Death:

“Fucking kidding me- like this?”

“s’ fine….s’ lright”

Perks

[I’m A Healer, But] Camille gives pointers on where to most effectively strike opponents. Gain +15% critical hit damage bonus when she is in the party.

[Burn Forsooth] Your enemies can hurt you less if they die faster. Once per day, give her a melee weapon and she will upgrade it to have +10 damage per hit.

[Gone To Flowers] In the wasteland, always bring medical supplies with you. Once per day, she can give you 3 stimpaks or 1 Super Stimpak (Luck dependent)

Drops

Encrypted Notes - It has symbols and alphabets combined from different languages. It’s meant for someone. More than one?

Diadem - 10mm SMG with a faster reload time. The receiver is engraved and inlaid with silver.

Doctor’s Bag - A normal doctor’s bag, it drops a collar when used.

Recruitment

She’s treating refugees at Bitter Springs. Pass an [8 PERCEPTION] check pointing out that she doesn’t seem to be from around there. Camille scoffs and introduces herself, saying she’s obviously a Followers volunteer. She can be recruited, as she voluntarily went to the camp, thus she can ‘voluntarily leave as well.’

Failing the Perception check, there is an option to spar with her early every morning. Defeat her or last for a few minutes and then she can be recruited. If she wins, wait for another day.

The Bitter Springs Camp can also be massacred to recruit her. She’ll disappear from the camp if you open fire and once everyone is dead, she can be found chilling by the docks at Callville Bay. She can immediately be recruited.

Camille will not leave regardless of Karma leaning or chosen factions.

Personal Quest

 [Not All In Vein]

Spend enough time with her and new dialogues will unlock. Camille shares her outlook on life. It’s said in a joking tone, but it’s implied that she believes in philosophies such as social darwinism, slavery and eugenics. You can agree or disagree with her. Bring her to Vault 22, Primm, HELIOS One, The Thorn, Cottonwood Cove and the Fort.

Once her dialogue is exhausted, she will openly admit her ideology and share her background.

If the Courier has previously agreed with her, Camille will continue with the prejudiced reasoning. The perk gained is [Burn Forsooth].

If the Courier has disagreed with her, Camille will abandon her old ways and promises to look at life differently. The perk gained is [Gone To Flowers].

However, you can later tell her that you changed your mind, believing the vice versa. Camille will then leave you. If agreed-then disagreed with her, she will be at Legate’s Camp. If disagreed-then agreed with her, she will be at Mormon Fort. Camille can be spoken to, but not recruited.

Other Quests

[Et Tumor Brute?]

She can be asked to operate on Caesar. She will not be available as a companion for a day, but Caesar will survive and things can go as normal.

Alternatively she can be sold to Lucius. This will cause her to approach the Courier, berate them with ‘You could’ve just asked?!’. Camille will flee, shooting the guards. She can be killed at this time, but if she escapes the tent she disappears forever. The quest must be completed using different methods.

[Beyond The Beef]

Camille can be offered to Mortimer. She overhears and refuses, threatening to kill the entire casino. However with 800 caps she can pull some strings to supply the specific type of person Mortimer requires. After three days, speak to Mortimer again and find that the casino has received a man named Fraser for the banquet.

Ending Slides

If her personal quest is not completed, Camille will be known as a bigoted but talented doctor. This caused her to be ostracized by other medics and kicked out of the Followers of the Apocalypse. People still find her for health matters but it’s up to her to decide if they deserve to be treated or not.

If the Courier sides with Legion,

- [Burn Forsooth] is achieved, Camille marries a high ranked Legion officer. Her services as a doctor are only offered to ‘worthy’ Legionnaires. Shockingly, she has a voice in the misogynistic society, giving valuable input to optimize slavery operations. Her first contribution was to direct the military to conquer her old vault, and she personally coordinates the ‘sale and stock’ of her own family.

- [Gone To Flowers] is achieved, she continues to live in Legion controlled land as a travelling doctor. When the Followers were exiled / killed, she figured that the common people would still need medics around. Camille understands how Legion slavers operate, and would occasionally give tips to her patients. She never teams up with anyone anymore, knowing individuals are harder to target.

If the Courier sides with NCR,

- [Burn Forsooth] is achieved, she attempted to run a new slavery ring in the Republic, much underground than the previous Slavers Guild. Camille was successful for a time until a convicted politician exchanges her information for a shorter sentence. Camille was caught, jailed, then executed via hanging.

- [Gone To Flowers] is achieved, Camille starts a clinic in the Mojave. It is very well received with the local community, treating everyone from all walks of life. She wouldn’t charge patients that couldn’t afford it. There are unsettling rumours regarding her past, but nobody’s willing to speak up. Anyone who did open their mouths found that she is as likely to heal you as she is to stab you.

If the Courier sides with House,

- [Burn Forsooth] is achieved, she follows the retreat of the NCR back West, posing as a medic. While the Republic recovers from losing the military campaign, she re-established her old contacts. New Vegas thrives with the old world glory House wanted and Camille finds business in dealing with the Three Families, particularly in the less seemly side of the neon lights. The Omertas is her most loyal client, finding new ‘talents’ in resources she sends over. Camille remains with her old vault’s doctrine, ‘Everything has worth’. 

- [Gone To Flowers] is achieved, Camille negotiates with House’s forces to allow the Followers of the Apocalypse to be left alone. Instead, House decided that the faction can occupy the now abandoned NCR Embassy in exchange for loyalty and an imposed medical tax. Many of the Followers, most prominently Julie Farkas had disagreed, believing it goes against their philosophy. The group left Freeside to find a new base of operations in the Mojave. However, a splinter group lead by Camille emerged, settling with House’s proposition knowing that their facilities and funds will be considerably improved.

If the Courier makes New Vegas independent,

- [Burn Forsooth] is achieved, civilians sometimes go missing without a trace. People who disappeared are usually attractive, well-behaved with no enemies and most of all- healthy. Addicts, drunks and troublemakers are left untouched. The local community banded together to investigate and avoid future abductions, but in the end nobody’s convicted. Without a task force capable enough to uncover her new operations, Camille founded a new Slavers Guild underneath Sin City.

- [Gone To Flowers] is achieved, her presence stabilizes the overrun Mormon Fort. Camille became Julie Farkas’ advisor, helping to organize the Followers better. She has the connections and the resolution to keep the faction afloat. Members are encouraged to take in apprentices to grow their numbers. Working side by side for so long, Camille began a relationship with Julie. The Followers of The Apocalypse gained notoriety and respect with the community, cementing their influence.

[lonemiqote]

FFXIV Character sheet!

Link to blank template! (Thanks @bluespiritfire!)

Name: T’khot Soulblaze (people who have trouble with Miqo’te pronunciation usually call him Tiko, pronounced Teeko) Age: 25 at the start of ARR Pronouns: He/Him Birthdate:  22nd Sun of the 4th Umbral Moon

~~PLACE OF ORIGIN~~ Race: Miqo'te, Seeker of the Sun from the T tribe (only technically)

Hometown/city: Hyrstmill Current residence/popular haunt: Popular haunt is Ishgard. Also has a workshop in The Goblet.

~~APPEARANCE~~ Eyes: brown | blue | green | gold | red | purple | multicoloured | other (…) Hair: brunette | black | blonde | crimson red (slightly grizzled) | grey/white (aged or natural?) | multicoloured | none | other (…) Hair type: straight | curly | ringlets | wavy | wiry | frizzy | voluminous | thin | other (…) Hair style: Long and wavy (it’s one of the basic hair styles, don’t think it has a name) Body type: beefy | curvaceous | fat | lean | muscular | petite | skinny | stocky | other (…) Height: short | tall | 169 cm Skin: ashen | caucasian | dark | fair | freckled | olive | tanned | other Facial features: birthmark | beard | face paint | fur | scales | scars | tattoos | other (…) Body features: birthmark | beard | ears (pointy, furry and on top of the head, like all Miqo’te!) | face paint | fur | missing limb/s | scales | scars | tail | tattoos | other (…)

Favourite/commonly used clothes Duelist’s attire, minus the hat (he hates having his ears squished!)

~~SKILLS~~ DoL/DoH Botanist | Fisher | Miner | Alchemist | Armourer | Blacksmith | Carpenter | Culinarian | Goldsmith | Leatherworker | Weaver fun | profit | self-sustainability

~~COMBAT~~ Main discipline Gladiator/Paladin | Marauder/Warrior | Dark Knight | Gunbreaker | Astrologian | Conjurer/White Mage | Arcanist/Scholar/Summoner | Thaumaturge/Black Mage | Blue Mage | Red Mage | Pugilist/Monk | Lancer/Dragoon | Rogue/Ninja | Samurai | Archer/Bard | Machinist | Dancer

Secondary/Tertiary/Extra Classes Gladiator/Paladin | Marauder/Warrior | Dark Knight | Gunbreaker | Astrologian | Conjurer/White Mage | Arcanist/Scholar/Summoner | Thaumaturge/Black Mage | Blue Mage | Red Mage | Pugilist/Monk | Lancer/Dragoon | Rogue/Ninja | Samurai | Archer/Bard | Machinist | Dancer

Fighting style aggressive | cautious | hard-and-fast | tactical | defensive | protective | all out | wait-and-see | charge in headlong | reckless | self-sacrificing | party-oriented | loner |

Any difficulties with magical/physical disciplines? He doesn’t like getting up close and personal with opponents, so he isn’t developing any melee skills (apart from the melee half of his Red Mage abilities)

~~PERSONALITY TRAITS~~ abrasive | abusive | accepting | aggressive | analytical | anxious | arrogant | assertive | brave | bossy | calm | caring | cautious | cheerful | chronic liar | confident | controlling | cowardly | creative/inventive | cunning | curious | determined | disinterested | envious | fearless | frosty | frugal | generous | greedy | gullible | honest | humourous | impatient | impulsive | indifferent | insecure | intelligent | irresponsible | jealous | just | kind | loyal | lustful | manipulative | materialistic | meek | modest | money-driven | naïve | narcissistic | oblivious | overbearing | patient | passive | perceptive | possessive | prickly | quiet | relaxed | religious | sarcastic | secretive | self-assured | self-conscious | self-deprecating | selfish | selfless | spiritual | strict | stubborn | tired | thoughtful | unpredictable | virtuous | vocal | wary | wise | other

~~LIKES~~ Environment: forest | city streets | markets | the beach | open sea/on the water | mountains | jungle | battlefield | being at home | surrounded by books | other (…) Weather: wind | snow | rain | sunshine | storms | cloudy days Flavours: sweet | salty | sour | bitter | spicy | tart | gamey | spiced | fruity | nutty | leafy greens | other Textures: silk | velvet | cotton | metal | leather | water | spongy | dry granules (sand, sugar, etc) | other (…) Favourite Dish: Ishgardian Muffin or Kaiser Roll, toasted and with Smooth Butter on top Favourite Colour: Red and purple Favourite Sound: Water lapping Favourite Smell: Grass Favourite Place: The Firmament Favourite Holiday: N/D Other: Cheerfulness, honesty

~~DISLIKES~~ Environment: forest | city streets | markets | the beach | open sea/on the water | mountains | jungle | battlefield | being at home | surrounded by books | other (…) Weather: wind | snow | rain | sunshine | storms | cloudy days Flavours: sweet | salty | sour | bitter | spicy | tart | gamey | spiced | fruity | nutty | leafy greens | other Textures: silk | velvet | cotton | metal | leather | water | spongy | dry granules (sand, sugar, etc) | other (…) Least Favourite Dish: Anything with mushrooms Least Favourite Colour: None. He likes yellow a bit less, maybe Least Favourite Sound: People yelling Least Favourite Smell: Gunpowder Least Favourite Place: Ul’dah Least Favourite Holiday: N/D Other: Lying, greed

~~HOBBIES~~ art (what medium/s?) | adventuring | cooking | fighting/sparring | finance | gardening | golden saucer attractions (Lord of Verminion, chocobo racing, Doman mahjong, triple triad) | hiking | hunting (game or hunt marks) | lacks hobbies | music | physical sports | reading (history books, essays and any kind of educative content) | running | scrapbooking | sewing/knitting/other needlework | sightseeing | socialising | swimming | training | writing | other (…)

~~RELATIONSHIPS~~ Parents/Legal Guardian/Parental Figure: mother | father | aunt and/or uncle | grandparents | adoptive | foster | mentor | family friend/godparents | other (Edmont de Fortemps, whom he considers sort of a father figure) Siblings: None Children: None Romantic: single | unrequited | crushing | dating | engaged | married (technically?) | divorced/separated | widow/widower | recently split | it’s complicated | other (grieving his lover, but has also recently forged a bond with someone else and is experiencing complex and conflicting feelings about it)

Friends: The number of people he his really close to can be counted on the fingers of a single hand. One notable example is his childhood friend Khelben Soulblaze. Rivals/Enemies: No one he considers a true enemy or rival, because he usually gets (a bit too much) into others’ shoes. To him, opponents are just people who put themselves between him and the safety of those he cares about for one reason or the other. The only ones who managed to actually anger him are Teledji Adeledji and Thordan VII.

Any special gestures of affection they have with people in their life? Even simply looking for a particular someone’s company is a big show of affection coming from him. Holding hands without gloves and/or in public is a sign of deep trust and love.

~~HAVE DEALT WITH/IS DEALING WITH~~ abuse (ongoing or recovering, verbal or physical) | acceptance | a new relationship (a close friendship turned deep bond) | a new romance | betrayal | broken heart | budgeting | bullying | caution | confidence | crisis of faith | depression | grief | health issues | how to trust | learning from a mistake | loss | love | new people | new place | opening up to someone/others | parenthood | physical changes (loss of a limb or other sense, inability to do things previously able to) | politics | PTSD | poverty | racism | reconciling previously held beliefs | responsibility | sacrifice (of himself and of others) | self-acceptance | self-esteem | to value myself | to value others | trauma (medical, mental AND emotional) | war | wealth | other (…)

How are they dealing with the most prominent of the above? How does it affect their in day-to-day life, if at all? For the negative ones, mostly avoidance and denial and bottling up his feelings, but he’s striving to open up about his troubles  at least with his best friend.

~~ODDS AND ENDS~~ Notable Weapons He views weapons as mere tools and has no attachment whatsoever to any one in particular.

Notable Mounts A Black Chocobo. Or rather, THE Black Chocobo.

Notable Minion/s A Coeurl Kitten he keeps at home, and the wind-up Haurchefant Stephanivien made for him that he brings about everywhere, to show it all the places he visits.

Keepsakes/Mementos A Fortemps signet ring that Haurchefant secretly slipped to him as a promise ring. He wears it on a necklace.

Chronic Illnesses or Disabilities Hyper-sensitivity (especially in the hands, probably has psychosomatic roots) and over-empathy, if these can be counted among “disabilities”. They sure are impairments in some situations. How do they deal with these? By wearing gloves most of the time except when he bathes, fundamentally. Also being introverted and not showing much in the way of feelings is sort of a self-defence mechanism at times.

Education Level Mostly self-taught (apart from the very basic reading and writing education imparted to him by a village conjurer as a child), but pretty high since he likes to read and study any scrap of paper with information on it that he comes across.

Habits When available, he climbs on trees to read. Wherever he is, he never fails to take a cup of the local tea variety in the morning, it matters not whether with food or not. He loathes getting dirty and has to clean himself as soon as he can in that case.

Other Despite being completely disconnected from his Miqo’te heritage, he cannot help but show the mannerisms and instincts of his kind. He has a tendency to climb to higher ground, loves high places and gets anxious in crowded zones. His tail gets all puffed up when he’s nervous or gets scared by something sudden, he sometimes gets the zoomies, and his gaze is unvoluntarily attracted by quick movements.

[doctorcanon]

Fire Emblem Redux

I got bored at work and started brainstorming how things would turn out if there was more of an emphasis on the three House Leaders as a unit rather than opposing forces. I named them Edelgard the Immovable, Claude the Untouchable and Dimitri the Unstoppable because I’m a loser. Also Rhea is the Bad Guy here. Just some important world building stuff, y’all know how this works by now. Despite the focus on all three of them, the story will likely focus on Dimitri and the Blue Lions because I feel like out of the 3, his characterization and overall development was the weakest. Also while I’m not a fan of Edelgard in game, I LOVE writing her. Morally gray ladies all the way. One of them is going to die. I won’t decide until I write the damn thing.

Dimitri, Edelgard and Claude are all close friends, reunited after 10 years. This causes some complications because they are now very different people.

Classes are divided into skillset, not region. Golden Deer: Ranged Fighters, Blue Lions: Melee Fighters, Black Eagles: Mages.

Steampunk/Victorian Era. Normally I hate the Steampunk aesthetic but the motif of gears and clocks is a little too good to pass up.

The Officer’s Academy is normally a two year program.

Rhea might be the Archbishop but Seteth is the headmaster and is referred to as such.

This is the first time Dimitri has been in the public eye since the Tragedy of Duscur. There is a lot of pressure on him to act accordingly.

Edelgard looks very different than she used to and isn’t very good at explaining why. Dimitri knows good and damn well that it’s not hereditary.

Claude is clearly the glue that holds their friends together being their voice of reason. He doesn’t seem to have changed much to Dimitri but Edelgard thinks otherwise.

Members of other houses are aware of and have had contact with each other. For example the noblemen and ladies of various houses are often forced to correspond with each other through courting or otherwise.

The acceptance of the Ashen Demon into the Church of Seiros has caused quite the stir. Some nobles aren’t exactly thrilled to have their children be taught by someone who used to work for them. The Ashen Demon is a powerful asset and now The Church has the boy in their employ. Bandits all over can breathe a sigh of relief for Seiros has tamed the Demon.

It’s extremely difficult to switch skillsets. Students like Sylvain, Marianne and Ashe have to do a lot of extra work to access those budding talents.

Punishments for transgressions are really harsh. Even something as simple as breaking curfew will resort punishment ranging from lashes to public humiliation. Most students are very reluctant to break the rules.

The name of the Goddess has been lost. It is blasphemy to speak her name.

Social conventions limit young women from being close range fighters. Hilda and Ingrid are considered to be very odd but highly respected. Hilda doesn’t seem to care though.

If a young woman accepts an offer of marriage during her education, she has to leave the academy.

Cavorting is not allowed on the premises.

Golden Deer teaches a number of ranged and stealth tactics including firearms. There is an emphasis on mounts as well. These are likely the deadliest students.

Black Eagles teaches rigorous classes in Faith and Reason. You have to be very intelligent to handle these classes. It’s not uncommon for students in this house to suddenly burst into tears due to stress.

Blue Lions focuses on fighting and melee both mounted and not. These are the toughest students. They go through the harshest conditioning out of the three classes.

Food is extremely important to Garreg Mach. That’s why they catch their own fish and grow their own plants. They rarely receive shipments from outside the monastery. Even the snacks in the Marketplace are highly regulated.

Garreg Mach is pretty much a standing army. Even the cooks can fight. Rumor has it that the Head Chef is quite a force to be reckoned with.

Basic Unarmed and Dagger combat classes are mandatory but the Blue Lions are not allowed to participate in sparring. Though they are sometimes made to spar against each other for the others to observe.

Injuries are treated in the monastery’s infirmary. Usually students are given leave from activity after an injury, but the breaks for the Blue Lions are significantly shorter. Basically, if you’re not on bed rest, you’re back in action. No exceptions.

Overall, the Golden Deer house is the easiest to deal with usually filled with the nicer, well rounded students.  Whereas the Black Eagles are probably the worst considering the nature of their work. The Blue Lions have the most troublemakers. One might say that the other classes enjoy watching them get punished.

[viostormcaller]

Ego Headcanons: Jackieboy Man

I meant to do this yesterday night but I had schoolwork and then I had a headache and was burnt out, so whoops! But I'm doing it now! Just like the others it's probably gonna be long so ya know. Here goes:

Jackie has adored superheroes since he was little. The superhero persona he is seen as is actually just a silly character he made up when he was younger, but he kept the name because of the sentimental value behind it. It took the city a long time to take him seriously, and even then not everyone does

Jackieboy Man is transgender! He was born female, and over time saved up to get top surgery. He wasn't able to get bottom surgery because he had to start focusing his money into upgrades for his suit and equipment, which he figured was much more important

This is also the reason why his hero name is Jackieboy Man. When he created the character as a kid he was adamant about being seen as a boy. The name meant a lot to him, so he refused to change it when he became a superhero

Jackie's real name actually is Jackie -- it was the name he was born with. Because he sees it as a gender-neutral name, he didn't feel the need to change it after his transition

Jackie went to a fancy prep school in high school. It was around then that he got his powers. He still doesn't know how it happened. He had been trying to get his phone that slid underneath a parked car, and for whatever reason his brain told him to lift it. He did, and found the car weighed virtually nothing. He almost dropped it on himself in surprise.

He became a student by day, crime fighter by night. This made his studies difficult, but he managed through it. Once he graduated, he got a job at a comic book store and used any extra money he had to try and design a suit for himself. For the time being he wore a red hoodie fitted with shoulder and chest pads, he wore kneepads over a pair of leggings, and he wore gloves and boots as well as his signature mask.

Jackie is insanely intelligent. Like, insanely. He's an absolute master at puzzle solving and is extremely well versed in technology. He invents things often and is an impressive coder.

Once he saved up enough to make his first armored suit, he started taking on more difficult enemies rather than just fighting robbers and criminals. However, because the police saw him regularly turning in these people, they grew to trust Jackie and eventually partnered up with him. He began earning money through the city and was able to quit his day job before long

On the side, while Jackie was hunting down the supervillains that lived in the area, he was also on a secret mission to hunt down people on the Deep Web. He was forced to give up the case after he had been kidnapped, his captors not quite realizing who they were dealing with

He met Marvin when a powerful villain attacked a theater. At the time, this villain's skills were about on par with Jackie's, so taking them down prover to be tough. When Marvin revealed he knew real magic, they teamed up to take the villain out

Jackie, figuring a partner was just what he needed, offered to meet up with Marvin that next weekend to get to know him better. Marvin accepted and they went out for pizza and talked everything over

After a while of teaming up and growing close, the pair moved in together.

They may not be brothers or related by blood in any sense of the word, but they might as well have been. They were rarely seen without each other. They never fought, and their interests overlapped so they always had something to talk about

They made it a habit of theirs to always cook something for every meal. Marvin was an exceptional cook, while Jackie was still learning. Marvin taught him some things that he knew, and on mornings and at night they both cooked together. Every meal was home cooked, no matter how simple it was

They were both usually home during the day; since they both earned money from the city, they didn't have any obligations. They both dedicated this time to research and studying, and they would spar occasionally

Jackie and Marvin both suffer from gender dysphoria. On a day that it was particularly bad, Jackie revealed to Marvin that he was transgender. After Marvin revealed he was genderfluid and he understood where Jackie was coming from, Marvin offered to use transformation magic to finish off Jackie's transition. Jackie agreed, and while he swore he had never been in so much pain in his entirel life, he still feels eternally indebted to Marvin because he did that for him.

They met Schneep on a night Jackie was gravely injured. The three felt a connection between each other and stayed in touch after Jackie and Marvin both recovered, and refused to see any other doctor after a while. They moved in with him once Schneep bought a house.

Jackie, like Schneep, is also pansexual. Unlike Schneep, however, he hasn't been in many relationships because he was too afraid he'll put his future partner in danger by being in a relationship with him. Moreover, he's constantly busy doing hero-related stuff, so he doubted he would have the time.

Schneep once made Jackie a picture of him in a comic-book style. Jackie had it framed and hung it up in his room, right over his bed. When Schneep found out Jackie did that, he teared up

Jackie is up the earliest out of all the Egos. He spends the mornings doing research, and then cooks with Marvin once he gets up. He goes on patrols at night

Jackie's powers include super strength, super speed, the power of flight, the ability to envelop his fists in green flames, and a sonic clap (which he only uses if he absolutely must; it's extremely dangerous and destructive). He excels in melee combat which compliments Marvin's ranged combat

When Jackie's using his powers, his eyes will glow a bright green, and if he's under a lot of strain his veins will glow faintly green as well. When this happens he knows he's reaching a limit

Jackie is the most optimistic. He's also the most silly (with Chase coming in close second). Chase and Jackie share a lot of jokes together, which is how they grew closer. Jackie often uses his optimism to cheer Chase up when he's feeling low.

Jackie can actually be one of the most serious Egos when he needs to be (though Schneep will always hold first place on that front). He knows when to joke and when to be focused, and is often seen as the leader of the household because of his commanding presence when he's serious

Jackie and Jameson often work out together. Jameson is almost as physically fit as Jackie is, because in his time he did all his own stunts. He may not do them anymore, but he didn't want to stop exercising regularly, and knowing Jackie often worked out he went to him for advice on keeping a good regimen.

During the day, when he's not researching, Jackie is more often than not checking in on Schneep and making sure he's doing alright. He feels the need to he Schneep's protector, just as Marvin does with Chase. Especially after his kidnapping, Jackie wants to keep Schneep safe. He's usually there to ground him during flashbacks and panic attacks. The two are rather close and spend quite a bit of time with each other talking about work or venting general frustrations. Jackie's optimism and general bubbliness counteracts Schneep's serious attitude, and while Schneep reminds Jackie when to be serious, Jackie reminds Schneep when to loosen up.

Jackie loves movies, but sadly doesn't have a whole lot of time to watch them. He also adores retro video games, but agrees the modern ones are super cool, too. His favorite game is easily guessed.

Jackie's favorite superhero, like Jack's, is Spiderman. He sees a lot of himself in Spiderman, and on the days he doesn't go on patrols or research he's often seen playing the most recent Spiderman game on the PS4. He wants to 100% complete it.

Jackie doesn't rely on coffee as nearly as much as Schneep does, but he does drink a cup to help wake himself up in the mornings. He drinks his with a bit of cream, that's it.

Jackie can easily lift the others. Sometimes he'll sneak up on someone and lift them up, carrying them in his arms and spinning them around while laughing.

Jackie is a HUGE cuddler, and has a very tight hold. He's also a heavy sleeper, so if he falls asleep, good luck getting back up! He's always the big spoon

Most of his research is dedicated to tracking down Antisepticeye. He has Marvin help with this, since Marvin has more knowledge on demons than he does. However, Schneep, Chase, and Jameson also all have had direct contact with Antisepticeye and offer up any information they gathered. They all work together as a team to gather knowledge and keep track of common traits, symptoms, and telltale signs that Anti is active. Jackie also relies on the community and Jack's channel for information, since the community finds things first. This information is given through Chase. Jameson has only been in contact with Anti once, but his knowledge that he gained in his experience is also helpful to Jackie and isn't overlooked.

Jackie doesn't get sick often, but when he does he gets hit hard. Schneep is the one who takes care of everyone when they get sick, so every time Jackie comes down with something he gets all sappy and thanks Schneep for being a doctor and helping them. When he's sick, he's an emotional mess, but he does mean everything he says.

Jackie never makes a promise he can't keep, but he also never breaks his promises either. He's probably the most dependable out of everyone

I think that's everything for Jackie! The headache hasn't gone away so if I felt I missed something I'll probably add it in a seperate post. Same with any of the Egos, actually. If I need to add something I'll just make a continuation post and add it there. In any case, there's one more Ego to go! After that I'll clean out my inbox, though because I'm currently feeling shitty and moody I may not open prompts for a little bit, like a few days or so. But yeah, that's Jackie's list done!

[sofreddie]

The Winchester Way - Part 15

Summary: Reader trains with Dean and prepares for changes. Mary had a moment with John.

Characters: Sam, Dean, Reader, John, Mary, Bobby (woot!), Benny

Word Count: 2,033

Warnings: Angst, Implied Attempted Murder/Suicide, Fighting, Injury, Implied Smut (squint)

A/N: HEED THE WARNINGS!!! I SUCK AT SUMMARIES! I’ve never written for Benny, so hopefully it’s not awful. We’re cooking with grease now, folks! As always, feedback is appreciated. : )

Series Masterlist

Previously…

“I see him every day. Sometimes he takes over training me. Sometimes he just...hovers.” Sam nodded. He could tell from her demeanor that John had successfully reprogrammed Dean once more. That would make things harder.

“When do you see him next?” Sam asked, trying to formulate a plan.

“After feeding. I’m supposed to report to him for physical training.” She looked to the floor again. Physical training was essentially fighting, sparring. Y/N actually enjoyed the hand-to-hand combat. But Dean didn’t go easy and Y/N always ended on her back, in pain.

“Ok,” Sam nodded, “come with me.”

Mary prepared herself and John some tea from the tray that was delivered to their room nightly. John lay back on the bed, stripped of the day’s attire, looking up at the canopy of the bed as he spoke about the days events. Mary listened quietly, as she always did. As she added the sugar and milk to each cup, she turned to see John was still looking up, rambling on.

She turned her attention back to the cups before pulling a small vial from her pocket and emptying the purple crystals into each cup. Belladonna was a great sedative. But in larger quantities could be fatal. She was sure to add a generous helping to each cup before stirring them.

Mary smiled to herself before picking up the cups and walking to John. It didn’t matter which cup he took. Hopefully, if her measurements were right, they would both fall asleep and never wake up.

John sat up on the edge of the bed as Mary approached him. He smiled warmly at her and she stood with both cups, waiting for John to take the cup from her left hand as he always did. Today, he took the right. As she brought the cup to her lips, she watched John doing the same. Before she could sip its warmth, John spoke up.

“Hey, you know what?” John smiled excitedly, taking her cup and his and placing them on the nightstand. “When’s the last time we had some us time?” He asked, biting his lip. Mary let him sweep her up in his arms as he flung her over the bed and began kissing down her neck. She looked over to the nightstand and the cups that were quickly being cleaned up and carried off with the tray by the kitchen crew. Mary mourned their loss as she closed her eyes.

Sam took Y/N to the training room as scheduled to meet with Dean. The two of them sat in silence for a long time before the door suddenly burst open and slammed shut. Dean stormed into the room, his poker face unreadable as he took in the presence of both Sam and Y/N.

“What are you doing here?” Dean asked Sam as he began stretching out his muscles, readying himself for a good workout.

“I wanted to talk to you, about what happened, what I did.” Sam grew quieter with each word. Still, Dean’s face was unchanging.

“Suddenly you have a conscience?” Dean laughed out as he began moving towards Y/N. She began taking a step back for his every step forward. Dean’s eyes still stayed on Sam.

“I have my Soul back.”

Dean stopped his movements then, pausing before turning to face Sam directly. “Your Soul?” Dean inquired, confused.

Sam let out a long breath. “Yeah, my Soul. And I’m remembering everything and I just…” he sighed, “I don’t know what to do.” He pleaded to Dean. Dean looked him up and down, then turned his attention back to Y/N as he continued stocking her.

Dean lunged for Y/N, tackling her at the shins and knocking her to the ground with a thud. He quickly scuttled up her body until he was straddling her torso, hands pinned above her head in one of Dean’s own.

“You’re dead.” He spat, standing and turning his back to her. “Get up. And this time,” He turned, smiling at her, “don’t let me get you.” Dean jolted forward and Y/N took off, maneuvering amongst the fighting dummies and punching bags situated throughout the room. Sam watched, trying to get Dean’s attention.

“Dean, can we talk for a minute, please?!” Sam shouted.

“Can’t Sammy. Gotta teach this little girl a lesson.” Dean smirked, dashing after Y/N once more. He grabbed her from behind. Y/N was quick to get out of his grasp, turning and landing an inch punch to Dean’s sternum. He staggered back a few steps in surprise. Y/N’s eyes were wide, surprised herself. Dean growled as he snatched her up, quickly knocking her to the ground. He straddled her once more, pulling back his fist, ready to land a blow.

Y/N bucked her hips and twisted her body, throwing Dean from her. She rolled from under him and took off towards the table in the center of the room. The table was covered with several throwing knives, brass knuckles, several small melee weapons. She glanced up from the table, seeing Dean approaching.

“Y/N, don’t!” Sam cautioned, taking a step towards her. Both Sam and Dean were about five feet from her. She grabbed one of the throwing knives, hurling it through the air at Sam. It buzzed passed his hair, but missed him entirely. His eyes narrowed at her. She picked up the next knife, throwing it at Dean and missing by a wide margin. Dean grinned devilishly before proceeding towards her once more. In a panic, she picked up another knife and began to circle away from the table, putting more distance between herself and the brothers. Dean moved forward then and Y/N threw the last blade, finding its mark. It landed in his left shoulder and Dean winced at the pain.

Y/N froze, surprised she had actually landed a blow. Dean took advantage of her momentary distraction, pulling the blade from his shoulder and lunging for her once more. He had her on the ground on her stomach. He was straddling her lower back, a fistful of hair in his left hand, the blade in his right. He pulled her up slightly in a backwards bend by her hair and brought the blade to her throat.

“Just kill me and get it over with!” Y/N cried out, defiantly glaring at Sam since she couldn’t look at Dean. Dean paused for a long moment, just staring at her before he released her, stood and took several steps back from her. Y/N rose in confusion, looking between Dean and Sam.

“You mean it, don’t you?” Dean asked.

“I don’t care if I die.” She answered, knowing the truth of her words. She didn’t care anymore. What was the point, living in this Hell?

“Then you’re ready for Stage 2.” Dean answered, grabbing a towel to wipe himself down.

“Stage 2?” Sam asked, just as confused.

“Yeah,” Dean sighed in agitation. “Stage 2. She’s no longer afraid to die. Now she just needs a reason to live.” He turned, addressing them both. “Then she’ll be ready.”

“Ready for what?” Sam asked before Y/N could.

“Go set her up on a hunt Sammy. I think it’s about time she sees what we really do here.” Dean made to leave the room, but was stopped as one of the Elites, Bobby Singer, stood in the doorway, arms crossed. Dean stopped in his tracks and backed up slowly as Bobby silently entered the room, closing the door behind him. Bobby was formidable. Had been hunting his entire life, like the other Elites. He was also a stickler for the rules, for The Way.

“Hunts a good idea. Great way to get our little Elite up to par.” Bobby spoke, breaking the tension. He nodded to Sam who quickly moved to get him and Y/N out of the room. Once they were gone and the door closed behind them, Bobby turned his attention to Dean. “How bad you screwed up this time, son?”

Dean glared at Bobby. He wanted to put him in his place. But Bobby was like an Uncle to him, and Dean wasn’t sure he could take him on successfully, old man or not.

“I’m doing my job.” Dean answered defiantly. “John makes sure I do my part to keep this place running smoothly.”

“Wrong answer boy.” Bobby said, approaching Dean. “Don’t worry, I’ll fix you up right. Won’t be pretty, though.” Bobby advanced towards Dean and Dean felt a lump he couldn’t swallow forming.

Sam burst into Y/N’s room later that day, quietly closing the door behind him and listening as before. Y/N noticed he seemed paranoid, always watching and listening.

“Pack a bag,” Sam said, tossing an olive green canvas duffle onto Y/N’s bag. “I made arrangements for you to go on a hunt.” He said, walking to her dresser and beginning to dig through her clothes, tossing several items towards the bed. Y/N was stuck in place, watching Sam.

“A hunt?” She asked, genuinely confused. SHe didn’t think she was ready and had never been let outside the walls.

“Yeah,” Sam was irritated, rushing through her room and shoving items into the bag. “There’s a hunter here, good guy, very skilled. He checks in every once in a while, reporting on the hunting activity within his region. Each Elite family is in charge of a region of the country and its activities. A hunter is placed in charge of the area and they report back to the Elite family on activities.” Sam took a breath, thinking, before rushing to Y/N’s closet and grabbing more items to shove in the bag.

“Ok, but why am I being sent to go with him?”

“Because. For one thing, Dean is right. You need to see what it is we do, other than the mess that’s going on here.” He looked around the room, seeing if he missed anything, then zipped up her bag, throwing it over his shoulder. He placed an arm around her lower back, ushering her forward. “It’ll get you out of here for a bit while I try to figure things out. I need to talk to Dean, hope that John didn’t screw him up too badly. Maybe Dean and I can find a way to make things right around here again.”

“And I have to be gone for that to happen?” Y/N asked, straining to keep up with Sam’s long strides. The Bunker seemed especially busy today, many new faces gracing it’s halls.

“If you’re here, you're a target. And a distraction.” Sam added, heading through the library and towards the War Room where Bobby and a handsome man stood talking. “And you’re no good to us if you can’t fight, if you’re afraid, if you don’t know what you’re fighting for.”

They stood before Bobby and the handsome stranger. Y/N couldn’t help but look him over. The stranger had stunning eyes, slightly graying scruff, and a great build. He flashed a smile and extended his hand to Sam.

“Hiya there, Sam.” The man said in a delicious southern drawl, causing Y/N to blush slightly. “Ma’am.” He said to Y/N, slightly tipping the brim of his cap.

“Y/N, this is Benny Lafitte. Benny, this is Y/N Y/L/N.” Bobby headed the introductions.

“Y/L/N?” Benny asked, surprised.

“Yeah. She’s the one you’ll take along for the hunt. She needs a lot of work. I don’t want her coming back until she’s up to par. And you’re responsible for making sure that happens as quick as possible.”

Benny nodded to Bobby’s words, looking at all the members of the group. Sam handed her bag to Benny and he took it without question.

“Be careful out there and listen to Benny. He’ll take care of you.” Sam said to Y/N. She could sense the concern in his voice, see the unease in his eyes. Y/N swallowed hard and nodded, stepping forward towards Benny.

“Shall we darlin’?” He asked with a smile, offering his arm for her to take.

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[phoebus-de-chateaupers-blog]

Phoebus de Chateaupers – Character Sheet

oh, some evil spirit, oh, some evil this way comes / they told me how they fear it / now they're placing it on their tongues / for to see it with my own eyes / for to see it with my own eyes / no food or water for the better part of ten months

quietly he sat between the folds of a tree trunk / for to see it with my own eyes  / for to see it with my own eyes / all the men of faith and men of science had their questions / could it ever be on earth as it is in heaven? / for to see it with my own eyes / for to see it with my own eyes

Archetype — The Ruler Birthday — November 14, 1982 Zodiac Sign — Scorpio MBTI — ENTJ Enneagram — 6, the Loyalist Temperament —  Phlegmatic Hogwarts House — Gryffslyth with a claw model Moral Alignment — Lawful Neutral Primary Vice — Envy Primary Virtue — Diligence Element — Earth

Overview:

Mother — Sorcha de Chateaupers (nee DunBroch) (FC: Lindsay Duncan) Father — Silas de Chateaupers (FC: Pierce Brosnan) Mother’s Occupation — homemaker Father’s Occupation — Prince of the Order; owner of de Chateaupers industries (they make metal work for construction sites) Family Finances — wealthy; got dat old money Birth Order — oldest Brothers — none Sisters — Astrid, little sister Other Close Family — family tree here Best Friend — Celmens de Chateaupers (deceased) Other Friends — the Order Enemies — vicious creatures, demons, ghosts, mediums, sinners Pets — Achilles; twelve year old grey dappled Hanoverian Home Life During Childhood — because Phoebus had been born prematurely, for the first few years of his life, he was rather frail. His mother became over-protective of him and doted on him. He spent a lot of time indoors, reading and studying. His cousin Clemens came over to play with him, but he didn’t socialize much outside of school. His father was constantly criticizing him and attempting to “toughen him up.” Town or City Name(s) — Skagen, Denmark (has also bopped around Europe, he’s been pretty much everywhere.) What Did His or Her Bedroom Look Like — pretty plain, didn’t have a lot of toys. Lots of books though. Painted like a blue probably. Faced towards the sea. Any Sports or Clubs — Once he got older, he got into rugby and football, that kind of thing. Was never amazing at it, but not horrible either. Also did sword fighting, sparring, wrestling, etc. He’s a GREAT jouster. Favorite Toy or Game — jousting Schooling — homeschooled Favorite Subject — history and tactic Popular or Loner — loner for sure Important Experiences or Events — becoming a squire, studying with the DunBrochs, when he fucked up his first hunt, when he finally killed a demon, when his father named Clemens his successor. Nationality — Danish Culture — Danish; Order of the Prince Religion and beliefs — Christian, specifically Lutheran-Protestant

Physical Appearance:

Face Claim —  Nikolaj Coster-Waldau Complexion — fair, but tannish from the sun Hair Colour — golden Eye Colour — blue and twinkley Height — 6’2 Build — stocky but not overly broad, definitely fit and toned and intimidating Tattoos — one on his right shoulder of his family coat of arms Piercings — none Common Hairstyle — mid-length, straight, tucks it behind his ears or slicks it back, sometimes it is shorter, just depending. It’s been longer for a while now bc he can’t be fucked. Clothing Style — casual. Wears a lot of jeans and boots. Good things for hiking or moving freely. Mannerisms — not a fidgeter. He stays still. Very stoic. Usual Expression —

Health:

Overall (do they get sick easily)? — yeah, he lowkey gets colds all the time, especially travelling, but he fights through it Physical Ailments — none Neurological Conditions — depression, alcoholic probably Allergies —  general allergies Grooming Habits — depends on his mood, definitely likes to get cleaned up and look nice all clean shaven or beard trimmed and wearing a nice suit, but on the day to day he’s a little more rugged Sleeping Habits — doesn’t sleep well these days because he’s haunted, so always looks kind of tired Eating Habits — also not great, drinks more than he eats probably, but he does his best to keep in shape too so eats lots of meats and salads, not a big sweets person. Exercise Habits —  every day, runs in the night and does gym shit in the morning i don’t know what gym shit i don’t do gym shit but he’s physically fit okay Emotional Stability — lol not great Body Temperature — average Sociability — he’s an introverted extrovert, he’s good with people, very slyth-secondary Addictions — alcohol, women--probably Drug Use — none Alcohol Use — all the time

Your Character’s Character:

Bad Habits — drinking, getting into fights, being a general dick Good Habits — uh, he reads a lot, intelligent, thinks before he speaks...usually Best Characteristic — hard-worker Worst Characteristic — jealousy Worst Memory — learning of Clemens’ death Best Memory — becoming a Prince Proud of — his hunting accomplishments Embarrassed by — himself? lmao Driving Style — a good driver. follows rules Strong Points — intelligence, strategy, eager to please Temperament — pretty even keeled, but he’s got a bit of a temper and is impatient Attitude — callous and uncaring Weakness — his ego? uhhhh Fears — being useless, being shamed Phobias — none Secrets — that he is p sure he killed his cousin Regrets — spreading that rumor about Clemens Feels Vulnerable When — people talk about him behind his back Pet Peeves — cowardice (when it comes to hunts/battles) Conflicts — what happened to his cousin, his religion v what he’s done Motivation — to be the very best, like no one ever was Short Term Goals and Hopes — fight some monsters Long Term Goals and Hopes — get rid of his fucKINg cousin’s ghost Sexuality — hetero af aggressively hetero Day or Night Person — daytime Introvert or Extrovert — introverted extrovert Optimist or Pessimist — pessimist

Likes and Styles:

Music — likes a little bit of everything but is more into acoustic-type stuff. Probably also like a few danish rock bands from the 80s/90s most likely, when he went through like his #angsty punk phase. Books — loves history books and mythology; anything that can help him gain more information and strategy for fighting. Magazines — none Foods — loves fish and meats. Not a big sweets fan, honestly. Drinks — whiskey, who doesn’t love a good glass of whiskey? He also is a fan of a good beer. Drinks protein shakes, but he doesn’t like them. Also an avid coffee drinker. Animals — horses and dogs, as they are the most useful during a hunt and also loyal. Finds cats frivolous and only good for rat-catching. Indifferent towards most other animals, except for dangerous magical ones, of course. Social Issues — the protection of mundus Favorite Saying — “strength gives glory” his family words Color — gold and red, the colors of his family coat of arms. He takes great pride in this. He also likes blue, because it looks good on him. Jewelry — probably has like a family ring heirloom type thing. also has a virgin Mary miraculous medallion that he wears Games — jousting, melees, that kind of thing Websites — none really TV Shows — cops shows/true detective crime shows/the history channel Movies — okay there is this danish movie i found called “Ordet” and the plot is #wild, but also sounds like something Phoebus would be into. He’s into like gritty noir films or avant garde indie films. Stuff that has to do with like crises of faith and that sort of thing. Probably into period pieces too or medieval. Also, big into mythology, so any adaptation of the Odyssey or the Iliad or stuff like that. He watched a lot of movies as a kid. (Side note: there is another movie called “Breaking the Waves” and wow,,) Greatest Want — to take over as the head of his family and be a successful Prince, maybe even King one day, in the future Greatest Need — to be admired

Where and How Does Your Character Live Now:

Home — an apartment in Castle Suites Household furnishings — plain Favorite Possession — his saddle, it was given to him by his father when he became a Prince -- it was custom made Most Cherished Possession — he’s not really a material person tbh or well, he is ? but he doesn’t really consider anything “cherished” Married Before — no Significant Other Before — he’s had a few girlfriends over the years, but they’ve all fallen through, was in love with his cousin’s wife just for extra salt in THAT wound. her name is Olivia. Children — none Relationship with Family — strained with his father, closer to his mother Car — none atm but he can drive Career — a Prince -- but his cover is police officer Dream Career — running his family company and being a successful Prince Dream Life — married, with kids, running his family company and being a well-renowned Prince Love Life — a mess.

Your Character’s Life Before Your Story:

Past Careers — he’s been an officer in many places over the past twenty-ish years Past Lovers — lots and lots of women Biggest Mistakes — lmao where do i start Biggest Achievements — becoming a Prince

[gorthol-mormegil]

The Barring of the Gate to Nekyia and the Fall of Sariza of the Roads

So this is a fic that sparked from an idea I had that Vaenia, ya know the porn flick, was actually a trashy corruption of an ancient asari romantic legend regarding an primordial republic's leading political family's final matrician and the captain of their guard during a time where a tyrant seized control through a coup.

Longer four part story short the captain, Benria, is killed by the tyrant's captain after they fled for their lives and the rest of the third book is spent searching for Piares to beg for her soul, contained in a magic device,  to be re-housed. The captain eventually atarts to catch up with the small band they had managed to scrape together just as they find the entrance to Nekyia, Piares' city in the polar caps. 

Sarizia, the last wandering knight of an even older kingdom, and a prototype of old Justicar codes of conduct, thats esentially an entire living heroic tradition herself, counsels the matrician to leave her behind.

Given tgis is the third thing I've ever wrote for pleasure that I've actually completed and it was all typed on an extremely frustrating phone keyboard, I would love to know everyone's thoughts on how this work holds up to someone other than the author.

Notes:

The dictators actual name is so close to the word tyrant in most Thessian languages that is sometimes an exercise in futility to try and parse out tyrant and Tyrant from old texts with any degree of certanity. For clairity, sanity and tradition she's refered to by her title alone in most translations.

The sel is an old Thessian measurement equal to about 14.67 inches or 37.08 centimeters.

"These bones know battlefields my liege-" spake Sarizia, "-here at the gate a single spear, even one as rusted as this, could seem legion to those who try and cross her. They know also that the riders were but a herald for a fast aproaching columun that we cannot outrun but only delay."

The exile chewed on the elder matriarch's words, still trying to find a way to cast stones under Velan's cart without loss. Soon, she sighed, her metral bent in acepptance of the need.

"You speak truth Sarizia. But how long can this pass be held against Velan's thrust?"

The warrior paused lost in clouds of memory and battles past; perhaps wishing for long ago winds to push against her back in that dark defile. To those gathered she seemed as stone. Tapping Aiglo once upon the rock she straightened and her gaze was lifted to the fog cast road behind:

"Once I could say none could pass my shield here and that it would take many weeks for them to find a crack. Yet my crest has withered from those heights now, all I can offer to you is a garuntee that you would find a way to the depths of Nekyia and perhaps a solution to both you and your bond's problems," With those words Sarizia turned to gird herself in panoply for the last trumpet call.

Turning to the small band Ontia felt the yoke of a world upon her shoulders and even as Mythixila's voice began she silenced it with a wave. There was no time for even a small forum among the dust, she was a general conserving the bulk of her strength for more more favorable ground instead of a matrician vying for agreement in that desperate hour. With a tremor the fellowship turned away from the hero of their youth onto the shadowed bridge leading deeper into cold darkness. Clutching Benria to her heart she strode forward to Piares fog hidden halls.

---

Sarizia Road Walker, long legend closing, took Sanaris' helm from her pack as the footfalls of her companions faded into a place where only her spirit would see. Smiling at the empty metal she spoke words to it like wayward child returned to their mother's tomb after a life spent apart. No one could hear that confession in that place of bones, the cold north wind blowing at her back bearing sole witness to the beginning of a final duty an apprentince gave to the master. But before long Velan found the portal and those words exchanged still ring in the aurals of those who seek strength in old bones.

"Who stands here?"

"It is I: the judge of Aethan, the hooded friend, slayer of the Hound of Timatha, the defender of the unheard and last Iurisar of Thenos."

"Speak you name or stand aside."

"What shall you do if I say my mother given name?"

"That will be detemined matriarch. But you risk my wrath if you vex us further."

Sarizia laughed, a hoarse note among the gathering gloom, "Very well impatient one, but you should know it well by now. For my name comes crying from the lips of those you burn out of home, those whose right to consensus is stolen from them by fear of knives in-"

"Enough of this. Your *name* you isolent old fool!"

"SARIZIA ELESSARA IS THE NAME I WAS GIVEN," she bellowed like Kurinith's trumpet given form, "THE SAME ONE YOUR MATRIARCHS SPOKE OF AS A MEMORY OF THEIR YOUTH IF YOU HAD EVER DEIGNED TO LISTEN TO THEM. I STAND HERE FOR HOUSE T'NUVIAS AND THEIR JUST CAUSE. NAUGHT BUT THE GODESSES THEMSELVES WILL MOVE ME FROM THIS DOOR."

"You? *You*? You are old and pale. Submit to wisdom and your death will be swifter."

"MY AGE IS NO BARRIER WITH UNBLOODED WRETCHES SUCH AS YOU. STAND BY YOUR BOAST IF YOU DARE."

With a shout Velan's van surged forward toward the brightly shining figure before them. Fifteen times they came upon Sarizia and fifteen times they where cast back and each time she repulsed the she beat her shield once with Aiglo like a great brass drum that sounded like the heavens opening upon the plain. Wrath was her point and fury her biotics in that melee, with each attempt Velan's band quailed sooner and sooner for the Road Walker's eyes and blood ran with new fire that was stoked by each body that crumpled before her stroke and lay as testament to her fell skill. After the fifteenth time Velan called a halt to the slaughter, for none could withstand the furor contained in the blows Sarizia gave for long and did nothing but grow the number beneath Sarizia's boots.

Sensing the reluctance before her Sarizia laughed again as they pulled away from the doom that stood before them in the growing twilight. She rested herself on Aiglo for a breath and beheld the charnel pit grown before her; bowing her head once in scorn she tore the armor off her right breast and cried:

"Come now, my heart is bared to you. Surely one among your mighty numbers can find their way around my shield?"

Oh, if Velan's heart was not bent onto dark paths and darker treacheries Sarizia's tale would not end in defiance and pain; curse her heart. Curse treachery in any form.

Rage fired Velan's nerves at the barb, without a thought the trumpet call for a charge was sounded and the black heart herself surged at the fore of that new tide. Crashing on Sarizia's aegis Velan redoubled the call but it was like a child trying to shout down a hurricane. There Sarizia's talent was tested to it's utmost as it always is before the end comes. Nonetheless Sarizia, true to her words, gave not but a half sel to the throng before her like it was the Bronze Legion itself holding the gate to Piares realm.

Oh how Aiglo reaped a harvest in that final twilight; a loyal servant to a end so near. Keen was it's ice like tip and it whispered through air like the finger of Athame casting judgement. Oh how her silvered helm caught Parnitha's last light upon it's brow like a beacon of hope in fog clouded times. Oh how it shined.

With time came some measure of twisted reason in Velan's poisonous mind: she could not assail the gate with strength of force unless a full banner of the Tyrant's hand was brought to bear. Withdrawing once again across the violet painted clay she whispered words of treachary to a liuetenant and as they reassembled Velan lingered between the lines. Casting her arms into the signal of tethnamostra she called:

"I remember your name now o great Sarizia Elessara and I know now the legends of your prowess are but dew compared tp the ocean. I call you to grapple to stem the purposeless loss of maiden blood. Avail over me and you will be troubled no more, submit to me and your oath to Lady T'nuvias will be forgetten for a newer road. This I swear on Tevura's name as true."

One last time the firey laughter of youth flew from Sarizia's throat as she upheld her arms in answer before turning to the straps and buckles of her panoply for feckless vigor rushed in her veins in that hour. Blind she was to the truest depths of malice lurking in some hearts even after a lifetime and a half, if she only had a glimse much heartache could be undone. Finishing she rose to her full height, standing tall among the gore pit around like a lighthouse before a wine dark temptest. Undetered by age she strode forward to a place equisdistant between Velan amd her goal.

"I accept, though my heart fears oil beneath the waters. No matter though, for even unlimbered I am match for your guard. Come, subdue me if you can."

Long they grappled, new thews almost even against memories of countless matches and rightous hatred. Far into the dawn's light the two strove against each other; battering their foe with blows that would shatter any other body like aged kindling but neither breaking off. Oh, how it was like the sparring of titans in that cold dell. At the hour the wertas' crow could be heard on some faraway plain Velan saw a chance for her wretched gambit to start and sprung past Sarizia's guard with a leap toward the stone where Aiglo lay; seizing the mighty spear she, curse the demon's heart to the four winds, lashed at Sarizia's eye's darkening half the world with a single stroke. Stumbling back at the venom unleashed at her Sarizia gave a howl that sounded through Nekyia's dark halls to those who she had given her utmost to protect and incensed almost beyond reason she charged the villian like a avalanche at it's zenith. Velan, twist tounged, nearly shrank from the wrath of the Colossus of Dilzana come for her. Oh, if she had listened to that voice. Wading in herself, Velan took blows now that pulped bone to marrow before finding a gap among the fury. Ramming forth Aiglo with all her strength Velan pierced through Sarizia side. Aiglo, shivered and malused, burst in Velan's hand, perhaps as a final token apology to the one who carried her over long highways by wounding the aggresor with many shards.

Yet still Sarizia was the better there and those around her quailed at the furor of the wounded matriarch. But fog soon took from her the greater part of her strength and they bound her with chains to imprison her waning might. So Sarizia, her deeds uncountable, did fall under the gentle press of a northern wind - though she lingered long in the Tyrant's grasp until she cast herself from Vaenia's highest tower to the quiet stones of the plazas below.

When the dead were carted away the steel of the fallen were cast into a cairn eight sels high in hopes their deeds would crumble to dust given time. Many years later the abandoned shields, their bronze rent and torn, were pulled from that defile for part in the new bell that hung opposite the great common hall of Vaenia; to serve as a watch and alarm for those who would follow in the Tyrant's shadow. Of Sanaris' helm Calmasa, granddaughter of Lieratha, braved the chasm's rock to untold depths to retrieve it from gloom it was thrown in order that it's splendor would not be lost. Aiglo, faithful to her bearer's cause after parting, soon shone bright on Benria's belt as she scaled the walls of her home to smite the Tyrant with fury unending. Velan Dark Heart met her judgement the soonest, in those twisting cyclopean halls so jealously guarded by spirits even more terrible than she.

[brandxspandex]

Oh hi please talk about all the reasons why you ship windscream because it's one of the most slept on ships for whatever reason

Well firstly, taking a step back and looking at the characters and relationships from a more meta perspective, I like that whilethey were clearly set up to be important characters in one another’s story arcsfrom the start of Windblade’s first mini-series, neither character is anaccessory to the other. Sometimes I find it hard to get invested in a fictionalrelationship when it’s clear that one character in the relationship was createdsimply so that the relationship itself could exist. That’s not to say that everycharacter initially created to be a love interest or side kick or whatever isnecessarily going to be an underdeveloped character, or that the relationshipthey were created to establish is going to be a dull relationship. There justtends to be an increased risk that this secondary character will remainprimarily defined by their relationship with the more major character, and thusnot be as developed in their own right as they could be. Some of thesecharacters avoid this fate, but some don’t.

In the case of Starscream and Windblade however, we firsthave Starscream who is one of the most important and established characters inthe Transformers franchise as a whole and in this continuity in particular, so he’snot easily going to become a secondary character to anyone. Then there’sWindblade, a fan-made character who Hasbro has been pushing to the forefront tobe a main player with her own mini-series to establish who she is and what she’sabout. So Starscream and Windblade are both major characters who are each definedin their own right and have purposes outside of each other, but it’s also beenso clear since Starscream was set up as the seeming antagonist of Windblade’s mini-seriesthat their relationship was going to be important in the long-term. Basicallyit’s a promising set up, having a relationship that is clearly going to beimportant, whilst neither character was created for the sake of said relationship.

As for how this actually plays out in the story, it meansthat neither character ends up being a static catalyst for the development ofthe other; rather they each induce mutual character growth in one another. Thisgrowth is certainly enhanced by the fact that they’re foils to each other;Starscream is an extremely selfish person and adept liar who’s haltingly becomingmore empathetic, while Windblade is a very selfless person and self-confessedbad liar who’s becoming increasingly ruthless. I’m fond of that classic set up wheredrastically different characters who initially hate each other’s guts areforced to work together and end up understanding and growing fond of eachother, becoming more similar in the process. And in respect to them growing fond ofeach other, there’s the fact that Windblade is very forgiving, which is prettymuch a must for anyone who’s going to have an even marginally positive relationshipwith a consummate sinner like Starscream.

While they’re opposites in some obvious respects, they alsoshare some very important similarities. They’re both very ambitious anddetermined, and while they may have some major disagreements in terms of themeans of getting there and the exact details of their respective visions, theyboth ultimately have the same desire, namely creating a peaceful and prosperousCybertron. I tend to think that having a major shared goal is one of the mostimportant factors for maintaining a relationship, and building up Cybertron isan ongoing objective so it could keep them tied together for quite some time. Interms of the more superficial similarities between them that could play intotheir relationship, they’re both sword-wielding jets, so they can take flightstogether and spar (also, since Windblade is only skilled in melee weapons Iwould love to see Starscream insisting on teaching her to use ranged weapons atsome point).

Another wrinkle in their relationship is the fact thatWindblade is a Cityspeaker whilst Starscream was chosen by a Titan. I actuallythink that’s one of the reasons Starscream was initially so hostile toWindblade, she was one of the few people who could contradict the word of theTitan that gave him his power. But it also means that they’re both tied to thegreater mythology of the story in a similar way and might need to deal with ittogether, and I love adventurers that delve into sci-fi and fantasy mythologyso very, very much.

I’ve gone on about ways in which they can worktogether and develop a positive bond, but I also enjoy the antagonistic, foeyay-tastic element to their relationship as well. It actually has me kind oftorn because on one hand I do want to see them continue along the positivetrajectory their relationship has been taking recently, but at the same time Iwant to see more of the manipulation and danger of their enmity. Ideally Iwould love to have them form a close and positive bond whilst still maintainingthat exciting spice of antagonism. I’ve seen other people describe such adynamic between them in Homestuck terms, which I’m personally not deeplyfamiliar with, but the idea intrigues me.

Also they’re both hawt.

[paixen]

ffxv/atla/korra stuff?

just gonna ramble my thoughts and opinions of an atla au in which the ffxv chocobros exist because showers always get me thinking. fair warning, there is no organized timeline so i’ll be jumping willy nilly between atla and lok events, so pardon the spectacularly inconsistent verb tenses. this will be a messy stream of consciousness post. Spoilers all around.

noct: i feel like the prince would mostly likely be a water bender. he’s just got this cool, icy vibe going about him. small things - i find his ice spells to be visually pleasing because i feel like ice compliments his black and pale aesthetic best of the other elements. his eyes are a good chilly icy blue. and he likes to fish. Ray Chase even said that everything that noct says has weight to it because being cool is so important to him. larger things - his character development is exceptional. he undergoes so much change. as a water bender, he might struggle to get a handle on the techniques initially because of his overall inert attitude toward life. then chapter 13 happens and he becomes quite the changed man. he is able to go about his days by feel, ready to adapt as soon as he needs to. Sounds changey watery to me. once he gets into the water bending groove, his go-to weapon would be ice shards. water bending is often argued to be the most powerful form of bending, being able to conduct electricity, manipulate the water content in bodies, chi/qi meddling, healing, all that jazz. it would be fitting for a king like himself. i also like to imagine him having uninterested, unimportant arguments with the korra, who would fiercely sass him back. korra would kick his butt of course, but no one can stay mad at noct forever. he’s literally sacrificing himself. at least the avatar doesn’t need to die to save the world. i also like to imagine sokka, aang, and prompto being real bros and roping noct into semi-ironically partaking their shenanigans and terrible jokes, iggy, gladio, and katara shaking their heads somewhere in the background. in another scene, the other 3 chocobros are probably bowing at katara’s feet for her generously mentoring noct with how to manage his ice spells so that the other guys don’t have to suffer under his AOE icy hell. if only he could have learn these techniques before Leviathan happened... also Shiva is just nonchalantly JAZZED in the spirit world that her wee prince is learning ice so well. His doggo companion, Umbra, would probably be part spirit, gifted with some nifty communication abilities. He’ll never lose touch with Luna with Umbra around. Umbra is definitely cuddle buddies with Naga. (noct is kinda amused by the irony in the name of korra’s bear-dog.)

prompto: first instinct is to say he’d be an air bender because of the happy-go-lucky/carefree vibe he exudes. but then i remember Bolin, to whom he is similar in personality. as much as i love picturing prom air scootering around town, i also have a hard time picturing him being a particularly spiritually invested individual. and then i also remember prom’s MT history and his old esteem issues. prom is someone who can’t live without constantly being reminded of his roots. heavily influential roots make me lean toward him being an earth bender, his specialty being metal bending. it would make so much sense - the bros tease him about being a technophile. he is MT. I imagine him really digging Zaofu. Toph would teach him as mercilessly as the rest of her pupils, but his quirky personality would eventually win her over, queuing her signature affectionate punch. with time, he even picks up sand bending pretty decently. the Beifongs would end up being quite protective over this ray of sunshine despite his clear ability to take care of himself (esp after the 10 year jump.) wouldn’t be surprised if zuko took prom on a life-changing field trip that confronts his past. #the real episode prompto. that’s rough buddy. bolin and prom would get pretty competitive with earth bending sports. he and bolin gossip about how they secretly have a crush on gladio’s muscles. prompto also confesses his love for asami to bolin. she’s techy and gorgeous, it just isn’t fair. bolin empathizes with him, talking about his old crush on korra. prompto would essentially become another brother to mako and bolin. Asami is still fond of prompto and appreciates the help he offers in the garage. Iroh is probably commending prompto’s appreciation of nature and friendship, as displayed so wonderfully in his pictures. at the end of the day, prompto finds that his camera’s memory is completely full of real flattering pics of aang’s face and motion blurred sokka who complains of not being ready for taking a perfect picture. toph is just glad she can’t see the pictures. meelo borrows some of the pictures prompto takes for references for his complex paintings. varrick hires prompto as his personal photographer and the two fall in love with each others’ spunk. they talk about prompto’s cindy situation. prompto is given some terrible ideas for this but he tries them anyway. when iggy is freshly blind, prompto does everything he can to give iggy pointers to help him feel his way around the earth. of course, his animal companion is a chocobo. when noct is gone, he makes sure to take a charcoal colored chocobo chick under his care and names it after his late friend.

ignis: again, first instinct is to classify the guy as a water bender, like katara, both being the moms of their squads. it’d also make sense, being the healer of the group. regardless, iggy’s a bit tough for me, because he also reminds me of tenzin - being the protagonist’s advisor and being accidentally funny. but he also demonstrates the aristocratic discipline of a polished fire bender, a much different kind of discipline from katara’s or tenzin’s. my final answer is that iggy would be a fire bender. he’s wise like iroh and disciplined like jeong jeong. the fire benders seem to take on advisory rolls in the avatar series in terms of main characters anyway. Iroh to Zuko. Zuko to Aang. Mako to Bolin. i like to imagine ignis using fire bending to his advantage as a cook. his ebony never runs cold. i also like to imagine when ignis becomes blind, instead of using his usual fire bending in melee, he figures out how to manipulate the electric impulses in human body. he could effectively exhaust someone or something just by tetanizing their muscles. he and katara might even be able to discover some medically revolutionary treatments through his abilities with the nerves, pacemaker cells, and the brain. also the synergy between noct and iggy when fighting would be so good. iggy would probably grab some lightning from the atmosphere and direct it to noct, who redirects the lightning with his water bending, quickly incapacitating MTs. if noct is unavailable then prompto’s on it, sending a charged metal whip right to the hearts of the MTs. iggy will sometimes put a motherly flame under noct’s ass to get him out of bed in the morning. Iroh is probably very fond of iggy, who appreciates his tea and is a great conversationalist when it comes to philosophy. iggy is always more than happy to cook for Iroh and to play pai sho on his spare time. iroh basically adopts the man. When iggy is blind, he and zuko like to tease each other about the fact that they both have scars on their left eyes. iggy proves to be a great listener for zuko just as he is for noct. zuko basically adopts iggy as his substitute uncle when iroh passes. now iggy is busy motherinig TWO angsty figureheads. at least zuko eats his vegetables. gladio is always grateful when iggy’s around so he doesn’t have to spend a lot of time making a fire. toph probably thinks iggy is just the most amusing, darnedest, and sometimes infuriating beast, and iggy learns a lot from toph when he’s blind. it doesn’t take an earth bender to tap into the frequencies of the world, and he eventually learns to see like toph. team avatar lowkey ships the two together, but the chocobros know that iggy probably couldn’t handle a girl like toph. when iggy visits zaofu, he cooks for suyin, who is blown away by the blind man’s tastes. bolin requests seconds and thirds of his meals, going up to fifths, rivaling gladio’s appetite. every once in a while, iggy feels intrigued by varrick and helps zhu li out with her endless duties. Ignis would probably have a BIG black leopard-opossum hybrid companion. a beast with heightened sight and smell to guide him when his own eyes fail. also a good friend for finding quality ingredients.

gladio: gladio’s a straight forward kind of guy. he knows what his path is. his mind is unwavering, being the king’s shield. he is a guy who’s very in tune with nature. I bet he’s a natural earth bender. gladio can also have a firey temper when provoked. over time he might learn to lava bend. as the chocobro’s survivalist, his earth bending comes in handy when they boys are just too tired to set up a tent or to build a proper fire pit. if he’s lucky, he doesn’t even have to try very hard to catch small prey like rabbits if they’re unfortunately close by. he makes very easy friends with the creatures from the spirit world. they show him all sorts plants to live off and places to camp out. of all the bros, toph tolerates him the best. this is mostly because he can put up an equal fight and isn’t as excitable as the others. the bros are awestruck once again by how gladio can seem to get on every woman’s good side. toph and gladio enjoy sparring - toph is very sensitive to his movements and quick to react. gladio has excellent instincts as well and is obviously powerful. he might not be quite as accurate as toph but he’s got just a smidge more brute force than her, somehow. sokka is unsubtley jealous of gladio’s masculinity and secretly leaves to do some pull ups on a tree or something. how dare gladio just walk around with his 6-pack out and about. gladio and aang become great buddies. aang and gladio relentlessly pull pranks on each other and the bros. aang helps gladio learn the wiley ways of the spirit world too. korra sees gladio as a big brother. when she needs someone to talk to, gladio’s there to listen. if she needs to let off some bad energy by throwing rocks n’ stuff, he’s always happy to give the avatar a good, earthy fight. this guy can take a punch. prompto is hiding and secretly taking pics of the intense fights. both fighters are pleased with how badass they look. he and bolin train together sometimes, though usually the sessions end up devolving into a volley of cheap and dirty tactics and taunting. spending time with bolin is still one of his favorite pastimes. gladio becomes fond of mako as well. they relate to each other, having very similar occupations. gladio even offers to fill in for mako when something more urgent than his police work requires his presence. lin approves of gladio. every once in a while prompto requests gladio’s assistance in helping him escape the slightly overwhelming varrick during enormous parties, but gladio decides to stick around and have a few drinks with the elegantly dressed ladies. gladio would probably have a raven for an animal companion (partially to match his tats.) The raven would be a great helper when scavenging and just a nice intelligent friend to hang out with. His raven probably plays pranks on all the other bro’s animals.

[fritillus]

heleddi stormfist

race: half-orc half-dwarf alignment: lawful neutral [tending towards good] background: guild artisan class: barbarian

const: 17 (+2 racial) = 19, +4 bonus //// str 14 (+2 racial) = 16, +3 bonus dex: 13, +1 bonus /// wis: 13, +1 bonus int: 12, +1 bonus // char: 12, +1 bonus

speed: 30 feet max carry: 210 lbs

hit dice: 1d12 per level   lvl 1 hp: 12 + const = 16 // hp per level: 1d12 or 7 + const (4)

ac: 10 + dex + const (class bonus) = 10+1+4 = 15 passive perception: 10 + 1 bonus + 2 proficiency = 13

personality

rolled / selected largely from the guild artisan tables and embellished:

personality trait: 1 and 3 and 5

i believe that anything worth doing is worth doing right. i can’t help it — i’m a perfectionist.

takes pride in her work, but tends to progress slowly and carefully. a firm believer in measure twice, cut once.

i always want to know how things work and what makes people tick.

observant; won’t attempt a new task or behavior until she’s seen it executed successfully enough times that she’s sure she understands how it works.

attentive to the emotional states of the people around her; wary and somewhat emotionally closed off herself.

i’m rude to people who lack my commitment to hard work and fair play. 

somewhat judgemental. tends to assume the worst of other people’s motivations; especially so towards people she judges as motivated strongly by chaotic self-interest.

ideal: one and five and six

community. it is the duty of all civilized people to strengthen the bonds of community and the security of civilization. (lawful)

people. i’m committed to the people i care about, not to ideals. (neutral)

the above two: not necessarily the security of civilization, but the security of the places and people she considers hers.

aspiration. i work hard to be the best there is at my craft

to further her craft

but also to master and channel her emotional rages, so that she can go home and settle down with a nice dwarven boy

bond: one, secondarily three

the workshop mountain where i learned my trade is the most important place in the world to me.

i owe my guild a great debt for forging me into the person i am today.

character flaws: [not rolled]

paralyzing self-distrust, second-guessing

she does not trust her own judgement, her own emotions, and is concerned with how she appears to others. she has no desire to be intimidating, and she is frightened by her culturally proscribed emotionality.

wary and insecure.

she spends a lot of time watching others and attempting to fit in socially as she could not physically. this has made her unusually discerning of others’ emotions, but she isn’t always the most accurate at determining why people react the way they do. she has a tendency to assume the worst of others.

character and background

orcish name “elet” dwarficized to heleddi

grew up in a dwarvish metalworking community; she is the result of a an ill-conceived tryst between her dwarven father and orc mother. her mother reappeared in the mountains with a toddler a few years later, and left her behind. she barely remembers her time in the orc tribes, and may or may not have any mementos from her mother1; her command of orcish - once fluent - has lapsed over the years (reads/writes fluently, speaks without an accent and can pass among orcs without detection for simple sentences; complex conversations require a saving throw to determine whether she fucked up a grammar).

she grew up in lawful good dwarvish society, very aware of her status as an outsider both by appearance and temperament. her branch of the clan was seen as unusually modern, her father was already considered impulsively experimental even before her birth. hyperaware of the fact that her existence caused a tremendous scandal and badly damaged her father’s reputation, she isolated herself from her peers in early childhood, and no one tried hard to stop her (aughts). she was kept away from combat training for much of her adolescence2 (teens) due to fears that her increased size and strength, emotional volatility, and orc blood might make her a danger to herself or others.

she spent much of her time watching others and attempting to pattern herself after dwarvish behavior, but still found herself wracked by worryingly strong emotional whirlwinds: tantrums and rages, bouts of sobs or laughter so intense her body was wracked with them, immobile, while they siezed her. most of her emotions were fleeting as summer storms, disturbing the steady and slow-moving dwarves around her. worse, her emotional disturbances sometimes stuck with the same powerful certitude that defined a typical dwarven emotional range, but with depths and peaks rarely reached by dwarves outside of isolated moments. her rage wasn’t the slow simmer of a dwarven grudge, but a shrieking boil that would refuse to abate; her worry would sink into her bones, leaving her sorrowful and weeping for weeks at a time before the next emotion hit.

eventually, she learned to focus her emotionality through her metalwork, to find some regulation of her excesses. here she finally found connection: her increased strength and passionate emotional range caused her to struggle with inconsistent craftwork her dwarven peers did not face, but her willingness to redo her work until it was perfect, her struggle to ensure that she would make a perfect piece on the first try no matter how gripped she was by emotion: this struggle and her deep, stubbornly-held dedication to this craft helped other dwarves relate to her and resulted in artistic and technical discussions that were the seed of her first true and lasting friendships. (twenties)

**figure out her eventual weapons training - she’s proficient with light hammers and hand-axes just because... you’re dwarf-raised you learn how to use them, but possibly not AS proficient using them in combat (doesn’t have practice hitting a Moving Bleeding Target with them). her actual weapons are likely to be larger/heavier than typical dwarvish warhammer/battleaxe - ideally greataxe & maul3

[[something happens that brings out her Rage in combat - possibly a sparring accident in which she injures or kills someone close to her, possibly acting in defense of her friends but terrified with the violence with which she lashed out.]]

either way, it both frightened her enough to cause her to remove herself from the community which she had been raised to value above all else, in order to learn to master - or at the very least channel - her rage, until she feels she can safely return home.

1 - at dm’s discretion, possibility of backstory for future plot, etc. 2 - possibly trade some forms of proficiency for others - she’s late to the game and somewhat banking on natural talent but also likely to use heavier/larger weapons 3 - at dm’s discretion but holy shit PLEASE

skills & proficiencies

species: half-dwarf, socialized dwarf (no orcish skill proficiencies beyond the language itself)

languages: dwarvish (primary), common (accented secondary), orcish (tertiary semifluent; roll a deception during involved speech).

see background for additional language skill (gnomish)

resilience: resistance to poison; 1/2 poison damage

stonecunning: advantage in history (int) throws => history of stonework;  add double the normal proficiency bonus to the roll

tool proficiency: smithing

combat training: proficiency in battleaxe1, warhammer1, hand-axe, light/throwing hammer

mountain dwarf armor training: proficient with light and medium armor

1 - again, trade for greataxe / maul proficiency at the dm’s discretion

class: assumes a Barbarian Tribe training background not relevant 2 her.

proficient with light and medium armor

proficient with use of shields

proficient with simple and martial weapons 

skilled in (choose two): animal handling, athletics, intimidation, nature, perception, survival

all of these overlap with dwarven proficiencies with the exception of shield usage, which i’m not sure i can justify her taking given that she probably largely relies on two-handed weapons.

also, given that she’s fairly sheltered with very little real-life battle experience the only skills i’d feel make sense would be perception (people-watching! she’s an observer!) and maybe athletics.

her barbarian classing is like an innate characteristic of how she fights, not representative of her character background or training.

background: guild artisan

skill proficiencies: insight, persuasion 

she’s probably got insight from Peoplewatching but maybe not persuasion? poorly socialized? half a proficiency bonus?

tool proficiencies: one type of artisan’s tools 

smith’s tools (overlaps with dwarven training)

languages: one of your choice

limited conversational and written fluency in gnomish - enough for trade, but possibly not to discuss philosophy.

feature: guild membership. guaranteed food/lodging from members; funeral paid for; guild halls to make connections (jobs!). political connections. will help you @ trial.

cost: 5gp per month in dues to remain in good standing

equipment

barbarian starts with:

(a) a greataxe or (b) any martial melee weapon

ideally a maul (10lb/2hand/2d6 bludgeoning)

failing that a greataxe (7lb/2hand/1d12 slash)

(a) two handaxes or (b) any simple weapon

handaxe (light, thrown 20/60, 2lb/1d6 slash) 4lb total

an explorer’s pack (59lbs)

backpack, a bedroll, a mess kit, a tinderbox, 10 torches, 10 days of rations, a waterskin, and 50 feet of hempen rope.

four javelins

trade javelins for light hammers?

light hammer: (light, thrown 20/60, 2lb/1d4 bludgeon)

guild artisan starts with:

a set of artisan’s tools (one of your choice)

weaponsmith’s tools: 20gp / 8lb

a letter of introduction from your guild

a set of traveler’s clothes

a belt pouch containing 15 gp

trinket:

roll closer to play

math for ability scores:

2 5 5 1 = 12 5 2 3 4 = 12 3 1 6 4 = 13 6 3 4 2 = 13 2 5 4 5 = 14 4 6 5 6 = 17