#(it takes a lot of energy & power so its a last resort trick)

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Hi, I was the anon that had brought up the high seas adventure!! I'm glad you took interest in it, and hearing your ramblings to add onto it just made me imagine so many fun things! (Poor Eddie, haha. With your description, I just imagine a dog trying to stand up in a moving car.) Ohh, now I imagine a case where the ship wrecks and their stranded for a few days until another rescue ship comes! Perhaps on an island?? I hope some of them know how to hunt!

the very first thing that came to mind was Eddie sobbing while pointing one of Howdy's guns at a crab. Sally just comes up & stabs it through the shell before taking it back to the fire for eating. Eddie collapses to his knees, wracked with guilt-

[mnm-inc-miles]

WRITING

Hanna x Joey x Jake - 01/22/24

Hanna had gathered all the information she needed at this point. Leave it to her sister to have a trick like this up her sleeve. How did Hanna have zero idea about this title of Auntie that she held over Jake. About this secret child she rescued and possibly groomed. But through enough scouting, conversations with the parents and talks in the grapevines, Hanna learned a lot of information about this new danger. She could now assess the height of the threat.

Zihanna created a magic (of course, she was a prolific witch) to turn Jake into a person and made an alliance with vampires to share his blood. His blood, which held properties similar to that of a unicorn, where it can heal you, but also maintained its property that suited vampires, allowing resistance to the sun.

She somehow took a part of herself and gave it to Jake. Twice. The first time was when she saved him from the brink of death. She gave her magic blood to save him, then took him to a couple who indebted themselves to her for reasons Hanna still couldn’t understand. Regardless. They raised him and when he was 5 years old, he asked if there was any chance he could be a human boy, at least some of the time. He’d fallen in love with film and wanted to pursue it as a career. The wheels spun in Zihanna’s mind and she told him she’d look into it. It took 6 months and she created a magic that allowed this to happen. Using a part of herself, mixed with unicorns blood, some transfiguration spells, and lots of dark magic, she ultimately made it happen. The benefit for Zihanna, which Jake must not have known or understood as a child, was having a way out, should she need it. A last resort savior, basically a horcrux. Which meant if she could get her hands on Jake, and kill him, she would regain her life once again, instead of being a sliver of herself stuck in hell.

Hanna couldn’t let this happen. She wouldn’t. Because if her sister came back it would be constant battles again to keep Alex safe and anyone close to her would be leverage, therefore in danger. She couldn’t lose yet another family. Her heart couldn’t bear it. Having people do Zihanna’s bidding here and there while she’s stuck in hell was manageable, but to have her run amuck with full access to her ridiculously overpowered magic, was too dangerous.

This state of panic caused her to spiral. She broke and found a dealer. She bought some heroin and cocaine. Saved the coke for later and hit up the heroin immediately. This allowed her body and brain to sink into a state of euphoria. Where she stopped thinking and stressing about the task that was to come. Getting rid of the threat. Taking out Jake. Shame he was innocent in all this, but she couldn’t risk Zihanna getting him first.

She slept off the rest of the high and awoke in the morning feeling drained. She snorted a line of coke and crawled back into bed. She slept another three days. Waking to eat, then resting, storing energy and fueling up to use her magic. Finally it was time to put her plan into action. She grabbed the remainder of coke, snorted a line and pocketed the rest, then left the hotel she’d been staying at.

Joey was known as a skilled fighter, so he could pose a serious challenge. He’d gone against some very skilled vampires, and won. She looked into his reputation and his kill list was surprisingly long, the number of missions and combat situations he’d been in were much more than she anticipated. But she’d take a couple more days to rest, focus and harness her power, and she’d just need to knock him out first so she could kill Jake without conflict.

She would strike Sunday night. It made the most sense since both of them would be attending a wedding ceremony, likely have drinks, full bellies, and dwindling energy by the time they return home. However, she may then need to account for Otto being around too. Could she really take on Joey and a seemingly quite capable wizard? Perhaps it would be wiser to wait until early hours of the morning when the boy left for school and the other two were sleeping off possible hangovers.

She changed into her cat form and slipped into the building through the arms of a stranger. She had a warm bed and a decent meal of canned tuna, and slept the day away, waking at 6am and scratching to be let out. It took a little convincing but the person finally got the hint and opened the door in a dreary half sleep state.

She wandered up the stairs to the top floor where she knew Joey lived with Jake. She waited by the door and listened, saving her magic until it was time to act. When the door began to rattle she turned herself invisible, a power she could maintain in cat form for a short while, but she knew it was glitchy especially when she was using. Her sister was always a much better witch, but Hanna was crafty and strong.

Once the door opened she very quietly slipped into the apartment as Joey walked out with Otto, Riggs, and Tom drawing only a mild amount of attention from the dogs. Joey walked down the stairs, kissing Otto goodbye and letting the dogs out to do their business. It was almost too easy. She stalked around a bit longer as an invisible cat, searching for Jake.

She found him asleep on the couch. She switched back into a person and stood in the doorway to the living room, watching the door and looking over her next victim. She clothed herself with magic as she watched him for a moment more. Mind reeling, her personal kill count was a quarter what Joey’s was, though she was responsible for the death of many others, indirectly. She looked over Jake with sad eyes, a large part of her truly didn’t want to kill him, but she knew she needed too. She couldn’t chance Zihanna coming back, even if the boy didn’t switch allegiances, if there was even a chance she could get her power back, Hanna needed to expunge it.

She inhaled deeply and let out a sigh as she walked over, weaponless. As she often was, using her magic as strength instead. She whispered some words above Jake as she slowly put her hands to his throat, and as he began to wake she mounted him, tightening her grip.

The panic set in immediately, but it was too late. She had the edge and was slowly choking the air from his lungs. Unfortunately she underestimated the time it takes to kill someone in this fashion, even with unmatched strength. The door slammed a bit as it closed and she tightened her grip even more but whatever strength Jake had he’d been saving up, he managed to release a half howl half cry.

Before she knew it, Joey had tackled Hanna off Jake and into coffee table then onto the floor. He wrestled her some as Jake coughed, his throat sore and his chest gasping.

Joey had managed to pick her up and slam her into the wall “Get the fuck out of my home or I will kill you.” She clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes then laughed, then put a hand on his chest and mouthed “boom” and he flew back, across the room and hit the opposing wall. Jake began scrambling off the couch and bolted for the front door, still coughing.

Hanna followed quickly and slammed the door just as he began to open it. “Why can’t I change…” he coughed, his panic palpable as she pinned him again and put her hands to his throat. He had tried to fight her off but she was much too strong. “How…are you…”

She eyed him and said in a whisper, “Magic is a powerful force…” and she gripped him tighter, starving him of air once again. As she choked him, her eyes caught sight of the bracelet Benji gave her, that she happened to still be wearing. She had charmed it initially, so that it changed sizes with her human and animal form, so she always had it. Her eyes softened and tears started to fill her eyes. Then began to spill down her cheeks in small rivers that turned to waterfalls. Her grip finally letting up.

Just as she did, she looked at Jake with wounded eyes and tear stained cheeks, shaking her head… “I’m…sorry…”

“Joey don’t!” Jake coughed. Joey had gotten up, grabbed his sword and was about to bring it down to decapitate Hanna. Despite his fatigue and the unimaginable pain throbbing in his chest, he maintained immaculate control of the weapon. The sword stopped just as it touched her skin.

He lifted it and pushed her away from Jake. Then he pointed the tip at her chest as he moved Jake to stand behind him. “I should kill you…” he seethed.

Jake put a hand on Joey’s shoulder, “Don’t…let her go, we’ll deal with this later. Hanna…” Jake coughed some more, his voice raspy and weak, his chest heaving tirelessly. “We can work this out together okay…just, go now. But we…we should all talk…civilly.”

“I don’t want her near you.”

“Joey stop…she can’t be an enemy, I know you understand that.”

“She wouldn’t be if she was dead.” Joey growled. Jake gripped his shoulder in a pleading fashion and Joey huffed, “Get out. If I see you near my place or if you try to hurt anyone I love, I won’t hesitate to follow through.”

“I’m sorry…” Hanna cried as she slipped out the front door.

As the door shut Joey placed the sword on the kitchen table and leaned into the edge of a chair slowly turning it so he could sit. He nearly collapsed into it and put his head on the table.

“Are you okay?” Jake spoke, his voice harsh in sound but tender in emotion.

“Yes, I just need a minute. I…I don’t know what she did…” he breathed with his head still resting. “I can only liken it to a thunderstorm in my chest.”

“What? Like…did she shock you?”

“Something like that…a shock and the force, like…like I was hit with a rock…” he took a few more minutes, and Jake sat in a chair next to him, and finally Joey lifted his head and looked at Jake. “Are you alright, my god, your neck…” he moved his chair closer and gently lifted Jake’s chin. It was red and already beginning to bruise. His jaw clenched and he was already reeling about if he made the right call letting her go.

As if reading his mind Jake spoke, “We did the right thing Joe, really we did. She’s under so much pressure right now and she’s probably thinking she had to do this to keep her son safe, but I know if we work together we can find another way.”

“I hope you’re right…” is all Joey managed to say. “I think…I need to lie down, don’t leave the apartment by yourself. Maybe…maybe call Dom, or Tim… or both that’s fine, just please stay inside if you can…” his energy was depleting fast. He looked for his dogs, Riggs slowly slinking into the kitchen from the bedroom. Joey stood and went over to him, comforting him and then spotting Tom shivering half under the bed. He scooped up the puppy and collapsed into the bed and fell asleep.

[astral-multiverse]

"Well since everyone is here, I guess I can show off something I've made recently" Brandon said before he activates B.E.C

"B.E.C., bring her in" Brandon said

"Okie dokey~" B.E.C. said gleefully before she sends a signal and all of a sudden, a fighter jet like spacecraft flew through a portal in the sky and landed near them

"Whoa, what is that?" Tails asked

"Say hello to the Astral Genesis, a ship that's made specifically for space combat. It's got a few tricks that I think you guys will like. I can adapt my Star Power into it's weapons, fly around at speeds that would even outrun a comet, and more. I even added some interesting features to it. Specifically, with it's Trinity Pod mode" Brandon said before he presses a button and two more cockpits appear around the main one

"Sonic, Rock, I made this ship with the three of us in mind. Not only does it have a Star Power Adaptation System, but it's also got some other nifty features. First is the Sonic Boom Cannon, which uses the power generated from Sonic's speed to create a blast that's so powerful, not even the largest mountains can withstand its power. And then there's the Robo-Gear Weapons System. It can use Rock's huge arsenal of Robot Master weapons to give it a wider array of combat options and even take advantage of his Power and Speed Gears. And finally, my personal favorite: The Trinity Finale Mode. While it does sacrifice a lot of the ship's power, it has a super powerful weapon that acts as a great last resort with our combined power. I even made it compatible to Chaos energy as well, so any Chaos Emeralds we collect can be used with it" Brandon explained as he showed off the features on B.E.C.'s holoscreen

A Galactic Race for Chaos Emeralds: Team Trinity Vs The Metarex!

@astral-multiverse

When we last left the planet Mobius, it was about to be invaded by an alien army of machines. Something that was noticed by the Chaos Emeralds on the planet. Their warning glow awakening the sleeping Hedgehog that they resided with.

As the Alien Machines continued onward, one got a reading on their scanner.

"Black Oak, Sir. The Energy reading of the Emeralds...They..Appear to be getting closer to us!" One shouts to their leader before ther was a golden flash

"You know, you got a lot of nerve attacking this planet while everyone's currently asleep, pal." Sonic smirked as he stood alone in his super form against this army. "So, what's your game, huh? you some new robot army of Eggman's or something?"

[solalunar-eclipse]

Scars You Can’t See - Chapter 8

Chapter title: Countdown

Word count: about 3500 words

Author’s Note: I tried to make this one slightly more light-hearted, but we’ll see if that worked out! Also writing fight scenes is difficult.

First | Previous | Next

...

At this rate, it was honestly a miracle that Tails hadn’t had to buy a new carpet yet.

Thankfully for Sonic’s sanity, his little brother’s determination to preserve their house meant that he’d been given lots of free rein to run around outside whenever he felt like leaving. He’d also been given fewer chores lately, as Tails knew from experience that Sonic did not thrive on order and routine like he did.

It had been three days since their visit from G.U.N. and their last contact from Omega- and Team Dark in general. Though he never said as much, Sonic was really having an issue with the fact that Tails had gotten to contact his friend twice by now, while he hadn’t heard from Shadow in ages. He tried his best not to worry, but it had just been such a long time since he’d spoken with the other hedgehog.

And Omega had said that Shadow was struggling...had practically had to relive one of his most traumatic memories….

Sonic decided that he didn’t care about any of the hybrid’s usual thoughts about expressing emotions or vulnerability- the second he got to see Shadow for real, that guy wouldn’t be able to escape the hug he had coming. The hero was practically determined to drag his friend (because they were friends, no matter what Shadow might say) to a therapist, too, since Chaos knew the guy needed it.

The blue hedgehog slowed down considerably and began to stalk through the forest instead, trying to get the majority of his anger out through his legs and movement. It wouldn’t do for Tails to see him like this…

Sonic’s thoughts circled back to how his hands were tied by what he’d promised Shadow- the hybrid had been so insistent, but now Sonic regretted agreeing not to go after G.U.N. Truthfully, the only reason he hadn’t broken his promise already was because while Tails was an incredibly clever and talented person, he could never forgive himself if the young fox got hurt. Otherwise, he would absolutely have long since blasted into G.U.N.’s headquarters, grabbed the commander by the front of his military uniform and told him in no uncertain terms that he had better stop hunting Team Dark and he’d better do it immediately. The hero had had enough of his friends suffering while he was forced to sit safe at home and wait.

His phone buzzed then, pulling him out of his tangled web of thoughts. Tugging it out of his windswept mess of quills, he saw that it was Tails calling and of course picked up immediately.

“Yeah, lil’ bro, what’s up?” he asked, hoping that most of the frustration had left his voice by now.

“Uh, Sonic?” the fox said, sounding pretty tense himself. “Since those agents came to our house a couple of days ago, I managed to hack into G.U.N.’s main server and now I can see some of what they’re doing- mostly where the organisation's sending people and all that.”

“Epic!” Sonic cheered. He began to wonder- could they use this to help their fugitive friends?

“Well, yeah, it would be...except that they’re sending an entire squad to our house. Like, right now.”

His grin froze in place. A squad of soldiers? The hero almost felt a grim sort of delight in that- finally, he’d be able to vent some of his frustration on the organization that had caused this whole mess. He hoped the house would remain standing, though. Tails had built it around a tree from scratch and was really proud of it. 

Sonic decided he’d work that out once he got home, and just a moment later, a sonic boom exploded across the landscape as he took off. 

…

Once the hero arrived at home, the duo began to set up the house’s various defense mechanisms- since they were a) very famous, b) hated by one of the most powerful supervillains in the world and c) one of them was an engineer, it was only natural that the house would be at least as well defended as a high-security bank vault. Sonic practically bounced around the house as he helped activate certain parts of their machinery, nervous tension running high. G.U.N. wasn’t going to be pulling any punches this time, he was sure of it.

Tails, by contrast, was absolutely calm. The fox was ridiculously mature for his age, and Sonic suspected that he instinctively knew by now when he needed to counteract his elder brother’s wild energy. Once everything was set up, the two built a makeshift barricade as a last resort at the front door, and waited.

Thankfully for Tails’s sanity, it didn’t take long for the trucks to arrive. 

As the three trailer trucks parked outside his house, ten soldiers poured out of each one, while several technicians began to set up some sort of weird-looking prototype laser device. The fox laughed for a second at the sight of it in a way that sent a few chills down Sonic’s spine. His brother could be downright terrifying at times.

Tails scoffed. “Please. That laser doesn’t have the power output to break my shields….wait.

“What the heck?”

The four technicians had begun to hook up the laser to- of all things- one of Eggman’s old power cores that he usually used in his bases. 

The young engineer tugged at his tails in frustration. “That’s so dumb! Sure, it might boost the laser’s strength, but there’s at least a twenty percent chance it’ll blow up in their faces! A small machine like that wasn’t made to withstand the amount of power it takes to charge an entire Eggman base!”

Sonic blinked and looked at his brother. “Those aren’t bad odds….”

“They aren’t good ones, either! I’d never let someone use a creation of mine with a one in five chance of failure. It’s just embarrassing! And it shows how far behind their engineers are!” Tails’s fur was fluffed up in outrage and irritation.

The hero almost laughed. “That’s what you complain about first? Not the fact that they’re gonna try and blow up our house?” he asked, his tone light. He snatched up the fox and rushed them both away from the front door as a precaution- that was definitely going to be their first target.

Sonic pushed Tails into the highest room in the house, before launching himself out the window and curling up into a deadly sphere of razor-sharp spikes. He vaguely heard one soldier yell something in a panicked voice, but didn’t pay much attention to it. He slammed into the ground, still in a ball, and tore off towards the laser cannon at top speed, leaving a cloud of dust behind him as he went. 

Irritatingly, the soldiers’ gunfire spattered all around the cannon, making it impossible to tear the thing apart. Sparks flew across the ground as Sonic careened around it before jumping up into a running stance and taking off in their direction. The air snapped around him as he broke the sound barrier and landed a furious kick on one of the trucks, denting the heavy steel and flipping it onto its side.

Sonic stumbled as a loud explosion rocked the ground, but kept sprinting after a glance assured him that Tails’s shields had held against the blast. The hedgehog smacked one man’s rifle out of his hand, the sheer speed of the blow bending it in half (and was almost certain he heard a distinct ‘why do we keep fighting this guy with guns?’) before he moved on. 

A dozen soldiers were on the ground either unconscious or groaning in pain by the time someone thought to radio for reinforcements- which they’d apparently had on standby ready to be helicoptered in. The blue blur wasn’t sure whether this high estimation of his fighting skills was something he should be proud of...or not.

The fur prickled on the back of Sonic’s neck as a humming noise filled the air.

A moment later, he threw himself to the ground as a red-hot laser carved a wide arc above him, slicing through the area where his midriff was a few seconds ago. He heard a faint yell of outrage from inside the house above all the noise, and stuck out his arm for a quick thumbs-up to Tails. 

A couple of seconds later, one very familiar and well-used earpiece landed in the dirt next to him as the laser swung back across the battlefield to refocus on their shields. Sonic shoved it into one blue ear before running up the side of the second truck and backflipping to land behind several soldiers. “Miss me, guys?” he asked smugly, before smirking and delivering several well-placed blows to said soldiers’ kneecaps that left all three doubled over on the ground. None of them had even seen him as he moved, which was really a testament to Sonic’s skill.

Tails’s voice crackled to life in his ear as he sent another person flying. “Awesome job! By the way, they’ve already fired the cannon three times, so either their luck is going to be great with this next one, or else…”

The cannon’s shot breached the shields, but Sonic noticed as he ran that its casing was burning red-hot, and- 

A shockwave blasted out from the cannon, making all four of its attendants fly into the air, yet in the seconds before they hit the ground, Sonic had time to:

Heave a lengthy sigh at their overestimation of the cannon.

Decide that even if they were working for G.U.N., a life was still a life.

Run around and safely place all four of them inside of a truck...

And avoid the explosion as it tore up the ground within a ten-foot radius of the machine.

(The hero had known for quite some time that being the fastest thing alive meant that he could do some really cool tricks.)

Dirt exploded in all directions, leaving a crater and a smoking lump of metal on the ground. Unfortunately, though, the house’s main defenses were down, and any second now, the helicopter would be there with enough soldiers to take out the rest. And his little brother was still inside...

As though he’d heard the hedgehog’s thoughts, Tails’s voice crackled to life through the speaker. “Sonic! The reinforcements are almost here- we can’t take them all, even if I come out there!”

“Not happening, pal, not unless you’ve got your mech.” Sonic insisted, putting on his ‘big brother’ voice. “Hey, wait- where’re they going?” he asked suddenly, watching as the remaining soldiers retreated to take cover behind one of their trucks. That wouldn’t really help them, but Sonic knew that they knew he couldn’t take the whole organization on by himself.

“They’re waiting it out until the rest arrive...but we won’t be here by then.” Tails said, sounding confident.

“And why’s that, pal?” He folded his arms, keeping one eye on the soldiers.

“Because-” and here Sonic suddenly heard a loud roaring noise coming from the back of the house, “-we’re going to get out of here!”

That was when the Tornado soared directly over their heads.

The G.U.N. soldiers certainly tried to shoot the plane down, but of course, they couldn’t keep up with Tails’s expert flying. Bullets embedded themselves into nothing but trees as it flew away into the forest, a blue streak taking off after it at top speed. Sonic kept up with the red biplane easily, just waiting for the right moment to...there!

He launched himself off a particularly well-placed branch, flinging himself high into the air before landing perfectly on the wing of the plane. “Alright, Tails,” he yelled, trying to make himself heard over the roar of the engine, “where to now?”

The kitsune winced and tapped his ear. “Earpiece, remember?” he asked, and Sonic cringed, realizing that he had forgotten what it was like to wear the little speaker while on the Tornado.

“Ahah, gotcha.” he said sheepishly. “So?”

Tails sighed, but not in an irritated manner. “Angel Island- nobody can find it if Knuckles wants to stay hidden. I called him up while you were out front and he said we could crash there.”

“Oh, sweet!” Sonic said happily. “It’ll be like a sleep...over…”

He trailed off weakly, suddenly remembering their home. “Sorry about the house, pal...I know ya worked hard on it.” The hero ran a hand through his quills, unwilling to meet the other’s eyes.

“It’s okay.” Tails said bravely. “I brought a few things-” he gestured to the backseat- “including all my blueprints, so I can always build us another. And besides…” here he leaned forward, catching Sonic’s eye, “home is wherever we are, so long as we’re together.”

The blue blur quickly nodded before looking down pointedly at the biplane’s wing, hoping strongly that Tails didn’t notice that his eyes had begun to glisten just a little more than usual.

(He did, though.)

…

Knuckles was happy to see them, of course, if a little less obviously so than usual due to the circumstances that had forced the two into this situation. The guardian immediately began to move the island to a new area where it would be hidden from view, while Sonic and Tails just relaxed and looked through the various items that the latter had thought to bring: a spare pair of shoes for Sonic, a toolbox and the aforementioned blueprints for Tails, plenty of food for the three of them, and of course lots of important technology.

As Tails left to go check on Knuckles, the blue hedgehog stretched out on the grass and heaved a deep sigh. What he’d give to know how Team Dark was doing right now…

…

Two days later, he found out.

The very moment that the team released the video, all three inhabitants of Angel Island sat down to watch it on Tails’s screen. The fox had been constantly monitoring the Internet for anything about the other team, especially their social media, so of course he was alerted the second anything came up.

Before they started the video, the hero had been vibrating with energy. 

By the end of the section about the ARK, he was completely still, his eyes as wide as they could go.

Tails paused the video there, as the massive wave of responses was already starting to flow. Sonic blinked back to reality to discover that his nails had nearly torn holes through his gloves- that was how tightly he was clenching his fists. He rolled his shoulders, trying to get the tension to leave his body, but he couldn’t stop thinking.

How in the name of Chaos did Shadow watch that?

They agreed that Tails would watch the rest while the other two stepped up to support their friends, and support they certainly did. Both of their tempers were running hot, and more than once the fox, glancing over their shoulders, had to remind them that caps lock was not going to be helpful right now.

Not long after Team Dark had stopped responding to questions, Sonic and Knuckles sat back down to view the other part of the video. They watched in shock as the peace and power of that meeting was violated, people arrested just like that, and yet neither of them had heard anything about this event.

Immediately afterwards, the latter got right back onto his phone and started typing out absolutely vicious responses to some of the more ridiculous conspiracy theorists. His violet eyes were narrowed in anger as he tore into their ideas- while he might not be able to convince the people themselves, he could hopefully stop more from being sucked in.

Sonic, meanwhile, just lay half on his side in the grass for a minute, trying to restrain the urge to scream. Why hadn’t he done more damage to G.U.N. when he’d had the chance? Why hadn’t he been able to see that this ran so deep?

Sonic turned his head to the side to look at his brother. “Tails?” he asked, trying to keep his voice under control. “Where’s Team Dark gonna go next, d’ya think?”

The kitsune frowned. “I don’t know...but if I had to guess, they’re probably trying to figure out how deep this whole problem goes. That’s what I think we’d do if we were in that situation, at any rate. To find that kind of stuff, though, they’d have to head straight to Central City and hack directly into G.U.N.’s mainframe...which would be incredibly risky on a good day.”

Sonic shot upright. “What if they are gonna do that next?”

Tails shook his head vehemently. “After running away from the entire organization for so long? That’d practically be a suicide mission! Even if they somehow managed to escape with the information, G.U.N. would be able to hunt them down in no time!”

The two brothers stared at each other. “But that sounds like them….doesn’t it.” Tails sighed, looking down at the grass.

“Knux!” Sonic yelled, rushing over to where the guardian sat. “We have to hang around Central City, man. If the team’s gonna head anywhere, it’ll be there. And if they’ll be in that much trouble by the time they get out of there, we have to be there to pick them up.”

Knuckles leveled him with a stare so flat it put sheets of paper to shame. “Sonic. Literally three days ago, I helped you guys escape G.U.N. and we have been hiding ever since. And now you want me to move my island, with the last ruins of my tribe’s temple and my Master Emerald, within reach of an organization that would give anything to be able to take it all for their scientists to look at.

“No. Way.”

The hedgehog widened his stance. “Knuckles.” he began, stabbing a finger at the ground for emphasis. “Literally ten days ago, Team Dark escaped G.U.N. all by themselves and have been on their own ever since. And now you want us to leave our friends, and remember, your girlfriend at the mercy of that organization, for the sake of a giant rock.

“Yes way. Absolutely.”

Knuckles scowled and blushed, avoiding Sonic’s stare after that mention of Rouge. “I guess….if we stayed away from the city itself and out of sight….”

Tails decided that this was a slightly safer moment to chime in. “I’ll try and monitor the airwaves in the area- we can move away if we think they’ve noticed us!”

“All of this is assuming that they’re even actually there.” the echidna replied, seeming slightly irritated at being outnumbered. 

“It isn’t the most logical place for them to go.” Tails agreed. “It’s ridiculously dangerous, and G.U.N. probably knows that. But, it’s also their most powerful building, which means that it’s going to have all of the more recent files there.

“While this video is some damaging evidence, it’s not nearly enough to permanently damage their standing overall...they definitely have the cash to sneak out of this level of bad press. A bigger release- now that we know this isn’t a one-time event- is definitely the best way to deal with them. And what better way to do it than to find all their super-secret files at the source?”

Sonic sighed. “Plus, I’ve got a feeling G.U.N.’s gonna underestimate that team’s habit of suffering to save others.” His shoulders sagged slightly at the thought, but he felt a little bit of the weight lift off of them when Tails leaned against him slightly with an understanding look.

The echidna watched them sympathetically for a moment before remembering that he was supposed to be arguing against them. “Well, why don’t they just go back to whatever place they busted first? That sure wasn’t in Central City.”

Sonic rolled his eyes. “It’s ‘cause they’d be expecting them there, knucklehead. Never return to the scene of the crime. That’s what they say in all the TV shows, right, Tails?”

“Well, while this is not a TV show, Sonic, you’re right.” the kitsune said, sighing. “That’s another reason for them to go to Central City.

Knuckles gave a mixture of a sigh and a growl, stalking back to the altar where the Master Emerald floated. “Fine. But if this goes south, I am blaming your-” he pointed a vicious finger at Sonic- “spiky butt for all of it.”

The hero grinned at his friend in a way he knew got under his spines, and was rewarded with a huff and another grumble. Yet the island still began to move, shifting eastward from the center of the country towards Central City. 

Hold on, guys. Sonic thought, feeling properly hopeful for the first time in over a week. We’re on our way.

[monster-creator-12]

How would imagine Baragon in the Monsterverse? And going off by his history in regards to his design shared with some Ultraman kaiju how would you imagine Pagos, Neronga, Magular, and Gabora in the Monsterverse?

Sorry for the delay, been busy with school and life stuff. Warning long post ahead.

Now when it comes to monsterverse I could see Baragon fitting in rather well. She’s already a fairly naturalistic kaiju and the monsterverse could use a lovable scrapper in its monster roster. Biologically Baragon would be a late surviving Therapsid who’s species first appeared during the late Permian and she would be the last of her kind following the Muto plague, escaping death by going deeper into the hollow earth than the rest of her kind. Appearance wise I think Baragon would closely resemble the design she had in gmk with some distinct differences. She would be completely quadrupedal and her forelimbs would have much larger claws, like a moles. Her ears would also be much larger and more armored, able to fold over and cover her eye like she could do during the Showa era. Her nasal horn would also be much larger and extend fully down the snout and forward, think a shark's snout made of hardened keratin covered with cooled magma. Her jaws would be short but robust and armed with large fangs and her eyes would have very large pupils in order to best utilize the limited amount of light in the hollow ear. She would also have large whiskers to help navigate below ground. She would have pangolin like scales covering her body but they would be more raised and square shaped. She could lift these scales and vent out superheated gas from her body as a defense, since she'd only be roughly 150ft tall, much smaller than other titans. She would be a lower tier kaiju, hunting down in the hollow earth for smaller muto’s like juvenile skull crawlers and warbats while supplementing her diet with geothermal energy and radiation. She can store excess geothermal energy in her body and if she can’t escape her attacker she can spew a condensed beam of steam from her mouth at her attacker as a last resort. 

As for the Ultra kaiju I will admit I’m not nearly as well versed in Ultraman lore as I am Godzilla lore so bear with me on these ideas. That being said I do have a few ideas for these four that I think would work well for monsterverse and I think you’ll enjoy. 

Pagos would be dicynodonts, most closely resembling lystrosaurus and would be found in the upper levels of the hollow earth searching for rare minerals and radioactive material, being common prey for larger subterranean titans. Essentially being a lystrosaurus with shovel-like claws, a larger beak and tusks, and four horns on its head, it doesn’t seem like the most defensive kaiju. Despite its unassuming appearance it does have a few tricks up its sleeve. For starters its stony grey skin is imbued with actual stone, due to it being a lithovore, which like rhinoceros hide prevents smaller titans from taking a bite out of it. It is also a fast burrower, able to quickly dig away from attackers while struggling to chew through its hardened hide. Finally if as else fails it can vomit a stream of condensed acid from its stomach which is normally used to digest durable minerals and can melt away at titan hide in seconds. Despite these defenses they are still eating by larger titans and their distant cousin Baragon has taken a liking to eating the 95ft tall dicynodonts since she too needs rare minerals to strengthen her own scales and pagos hide is easier to digest and find than the unprocessed stuff. 

Magular would be pareiasaurs whose kind first appeared during the early Permian. Magular are found mostly under and around Skull Island feeding on buried tubers and radioactive mineral deposits. They’d only grow to about 70ft long at most and their main defense would be their large mineralized spikes and their impressive tusks. Sometimes Magular and Pagos would travel together in the hollow earth since digging Pagos often unearth buried plants and Magular provide an excellent distraction for predators. They are fast breeders and they used to be much more widespread but an increase in subterranean kaiju numbers has led to their decline. They are the inspiration to the french tarasque myth. 

Neronga would be a mollusk, having traits from both cephalopods, chitons, and snails. Its back and tail would be a large jointed shell, with chiton like scales running down the outer edges of the shell. Along the edge of the scales would be a fleshy mantle fin, like the one found on cuttlefish. Its head would be large with a pair of cuttlefish like eyes and sensory tentacles behind said eyes, resembling horns or ears from a distance. The mouth itself would be toothless and wide but would have a massive toothed radula within that would act like its teeth. Instead of tusks it would have a pair of bobbit worm style mandibles at the back of its mouth that would aid in pulling prey down its gullet. Its arms and legs would both be sold and boneless, being two pairs of modified tentacles. The arms would have three large hooked suckers at their tips used for grappling prey while its legs would be pillar-like and end in three blunt clawed suckers resembling hooves arranged in a radial fashion at the bottom. Neronga would be a carnivore first, radiotroph second, preying on smaller mutos and battling larger titans for territory and feeding grounds. Abilities wise its biggest claim to fame is its invisibility caused by a combination of precise chromatophore control and an electromagnetic field that surrounds it allowing the kaiju to bend light. It can produce this electromagnetic field because of a large bioluminescent organ on its head, a pointed cone shaped horn situated between its eyes. It cannot use its invisibility for prolonged periods of time however so it only ever uses it to sneak up on prey or escape enemies. Neronga is one of the oldest titans, its species first appearing back in the Ordovecian and has managed to squeeze out a niche for itself even in the modern age. It is currently a threat to large cities since it will target power plants to feed on their electricity to better prolong its own invisibility, and being a 200ft tall titan, it takes a lot of juice to satisfy it. Recently it has showcased new abilities such as  being able to produce EMP blasts like mutos and lighting strikes from its horn like ghidorah. This is thought to have happened due to the excess amount of electricity now stored in its body. 

Finally Gabora. Admittedly I struggled with this one for a bit until it hit me like a freight train, clam. Gabora is a mollusc like Neronga but unlike Neronga takes more after bivalves than gastropods. Gabora has a soft body encased by a vertical shell, like a clam, but far more elongated. When its shell opens it reveals a large mineralized screw which runs the length of its body, think shin gabora. At the front of the shell is a five petaled structure, forming a drill shape that is there to better allow Gabora to dig through the earth. Openings in Gabora’s shell reveal large clawed paddle-like tentacles, useful for moving on the surface. While digging these limbs retract into the body and the opening seal tight to prevent any dirt or rock from getting into its body. Its drill-like head can open and inside reveals a large blunt beak, used for consuming radioactive minerals. Gabora is blind and has no eyes as it spends most of its time in the deepest recesses of the earth, hardly ever surfacing. During the one time it was spotted, during a battle with Baragon and Neronga, it revealed that it is able to spew forth a radioactive beam of blue fire that resembled a weaker version of Godzilla’s famous breath attack. It retreated back into the ground after its head plates were damaged and the 100ft tall monster hasn’t been seen since. The only reason it seemed to even surface in the first place was due to a specific cry Baragon emitted during its battle against Neronga which has raised more questions than answers amongst Monarch researchers since its only encounter. 

Hopefully you like my take on these kaiju and if you want to know about my ideas for other kaiju in monsterverse please let me know and ask away. Thank you again for the ask and sorry of the delay. 

[capricornus-rex]

Someone Left to Save (3)

Cal Kestis x Reader

Requested by Anon

Summary: The Mantis crew arrives to the capital of Ulfin, in the planet of Pevera, under siege. They meet the local rebel cell spearheaded by the former Republic admiral, Jax Beneb, who seeks to destroy the Empire’s occupation that was aggressively imposed upon while exploiting the planet of its natural resources. A plan is devised to destroy the Imperial’s main base of operations—as well as their influence—in the planet; however, it was a do-or-die mission that you and Cal had gotten yourselves caught in.

Tags: Force-Sensitive! Reader, Inquisitor! Reader, Jedi! Reader, Fake Death, Jedi turned Inquisitor, Seduction to the Dark Side, Turn to the Dark Side, The Dark Side of the Force, Aftermath of Torture, Torture, Psychological Torture, Redemption Arc! Reader, Possible Redemption, Premonitions

Also in AO3

Chapters: Part 1 | Previous: Part 2 | Next: Part 4 | Masterlist

3 of ?

The Second Brother’s hand barely touched you, his clawed gloves hovered mere inches away from your face, but you could feel the energy escaping your entire body and then enter his fingers in the form of white, translucent tendrils. The sensation was similar to drowning—sinking, rather—with a weight tied to your ankles, the farther you plummet the more air you are deprived of. Your throat roughed up on its own as you gagged for oxygen. When you thought you were kicking your legs to perhaps swing yourself out, your ankles were all but a pair of spastic, twitching joints—any more and you just might tear your tendons due to the desperation brought by your fight-or-flight instinct.

It’s excruciating. Extremely.

You could feel like your heart would stop any moment now, unable to withstand this overwhelming sensation.

With your guard down, he got back at you in breaking your balance—kicking you in the shin so your stance falters—and then held you by the scruff of your shirt as he continued stealing what could be your Force energy. As he stole your essence, he took satisfaction in your bodily throes that were nothing more but feeble attempts to slip away from his grasp.

“Not so slippery, aren’t you, my little thorn?”

For every inch of translucent mist that wafted out you cannot breathe, your head felt heavy for each time the veins on your temples throbbed, and your vision went dim as you avoided eye contact with the Second Brother. Whatever form of escape you attempt, everything was pointless.

You are literally in the Second Brother’s grasp.

It is mercy that he has not killed you yet.

Although he decided to make a plaything out of your agony.

“LET ME GO!!! LET… M-ME… G-G-GO!!!” you ear-shattering plea fell to deaf, sadistic ears.

As you suffer with every violent jerk of your body—so much so that it cramped your muscles—every labored, through-the-teeth breath, and the frenzied shifting of your eyes to fight off the dimming—all of these reactions to the intolerable, inhumane pain that you’re experiencing right now does not seem to sate this Inquisitor.

Through his wicked Force ability, he was able to see everything in the recesses of your mind—your memories, dreams and nightmares, and fears. He bore witness to the nightmare that has haunted two nights ago until the eve of this very day. The Second Brother wanted to make sure that you will see and realize that your motivation is also your weakness.

“Now I see whom that fire burns for,” he purred.

His cackling began with a wheeze, muffled yet still audible through his mask’s ornate face plate. As he looked into your shifty eyes, he mocks you by watching your nightmare play like a film… over and over again, to his liking.

All of a sudden, his strength appears to have double compared to hours ago. The longer he inflicts this agonizing power over you, the more you submit to your knees—with the toll of the pain becoming more and more unbearable.

This was a dark, distorted mirror image of Cal’s own ability: Psychometry. His and the Second Brother’s abilities are near-identical; the only difference is that the Inquisitor has yet to demonstrate that he can manipulate his victim’s visions to his whim—bending them, poisoning them, and ultimately changing them—to further twist what they truly convey. This is a capability that he has earned through the Dark Side of the Force.

“I can see him heading this way right now,”

“Liar! He’s out there fighting with the others,”

“Oh, I never lie. I may be bad, little thorn, but I do not lie—it’s a lesser, lamer evil, in my opinion.”

“And I am supposed to believe you—of all people? I’d rather believe a pile of Bantha shit if it talked!”

The fight dragged on, while it did, Cal tore his way through the enemy fronts, leaving lifeless Stormtroopers in his wake—but he hasn’t gotten any closer to the stronghold to get to you. From where he stood, he could see the rebels that you came with pour out of the entrance, some of them leaped from the towers, taking the enemy by surprise and flanking them.

He squinted his eyes through the battlefield, he couldn’t spot you—he knew what you wore and none of those figures in the distance matched.

“Where are you, [Y/N]?” Cal growled in frustration and growing fear.

The Inquisitor continued to siphon your Force energy out of your system, leaving barely an ounce from the vessel.

When he’s had enough of it, he releases his grip from the collar of your shirt and then you felt a row of solid, metal knuckles slammed to your cheekbone. You literally saw stars, mere white specks dancing behind your eyes as the surroundings blurred; you can barely make a proper stance, let alone stand straight. The Inquisitor laughed in mockery.

“With every step he takes, the closer that nightmare of yours becomes a reality,” he cooed.

“Just shut up!”

“Oh, and would you look at the time?” he chirped in his trademark singsong tone, only this time it was sarcastic and meant to taunt you.

Eleven minutes remain on the clock.

You spot this from the nearest time-bomb at the corner of your eye.

“Do you still think you can play around with fate, little thorn?”

There still some fight left in you, though your battle was both physical and mental, it’s difficult enough to deal with the physical—what more of the latter?

Being drained of your Force essence was relative to losing a lot of blood—you’re nauseous and groggy, your vision’s fogged and wobbly, and your grip can barely keep itself tight. You cannot even hold your defensive stance for more than a minute. You coax yourself to take long, slow, calm breaths—it was effective. Slowly, you recompose yourself.

Your objective in mind is to hold off the Second Brother while affording enough time to escape.

“There is another way of saving him, you know,”

You ultimately hate to admit it… but he’s right.

As he had siphoned the Force out of you, he has also seen through the secrets of your mind. He knew of your fear—the apparent death of Cal. You’ve already figured out that the blinding red and orange light, the ash and soot, all came from the imminent explosion caused by the bombs destroying the reactors.

Little did you know that the solution he had intentionally embedded in your mind was a distortion, a trick, and he smiled to himself sensing full well that you’re slowly biting into the bait.

“Are you really going to let his blood be on your hands? It’s going to be a lot, you might not keep all of it, little thorn,”

“Don’t call me that…” you snarled through the grit of your teeth as you sobbed.

You’re desperate. The longer the clock ticks, the more imminent Cal’s death would be.

Come on, [Y/N], think fast!

You will not allow the Second Brother to get the best of you. A mere second was afforded for you to meditate, to make peace quickly that your last-minute plan is the best and only resort to save Cal—without any other compromise.

I know he’s safe, that’s all that matters. You mouth the words to yourself like a prayer.

With one sweep of the arm, all of the bombs’ timers have been manually changed. Originally, only five minutes were remaining, but you—using the Force—overrode the configuration and set them all to ten seconds. This took the Second Brother by surprise, with the remainder of your strength, you kicked him on the chest and flung him a few inches away; while disoriented, you made a run for it—dashing through the air in the same speed as he did, scaled and skipped a few spokes of the ladder until you hauled yourself to the platform. Doing these doubled the toll your body is already taking, which is struggling to keep you from collapsing; your breath heaved and your own weight suddenly became anvils.

Now that you’ve gotten yourself to high ground, you’ve used up all of your energy and returned to your sluggish, weakened state. The exit is still far off and you can see the digits on the clock.

00:05.

“W-Where’s [Y/N]?” Cal demands an answer from the rebel who ran past him, grabbing the soldier by the sleeve.

“I-I don’t know! An Imp attacked us from nowhere… he’s already killed Yenna!”

“Imp? What Imp?”

“He had a saber like yours, except red.”

The young Jedi let the partisan go. Based on the last thing the rebel said, Cal already knew it was no ordinary Imp.

His fears have come true. Although he was aware of the risks already but he never anticipated you would face an Inquisitor alone!

00:02.

Before Cal could even get any closer to the stronghold, he—along with everyone else, friend and foe alike—stopped dead in his tracks, startled by the rumble that sourced from the building. His eyes widened, his jaw dropped—the red and orange cloud of fire filled the pair of jade eyes—and his heart drummed so loudly that it just might tear right through his ribs and out from his leather armor. Goosebumps pelted his arms, cold sweat trickled on his temples, and the hairs at the back of his neck pricked up.

“No…!” he gasped. When the reality of the explosion eventually sunk into him, despite refusing the truth right in front of him, he roared your name at the top of his lungs—so much so that he wheezed when he inhaled.

“Beeeeeeee!!!!” BD-1 let out of the shrillest, ear-shattering chirp he has ever done in his entire life.

“FALL BACK!!!”

“RETREAT!!”

The Stormtroopers cried in panic, some turned tail and fled, a brave handful kept shooting while slowly stepping back. The rebels gradually overtook the field until the numbers have thinned out in the enemy’s side. Having a complete disregard for his safety, Cal charged through the crossfire, powered yet blinded by pure adrenaline, a few of the partisans called out to him but to no avail.

“CAL, HEY COME BACK!!”

“CAL, COME BACK HERE!!!”

Cal was hindered from coming closer as another minor explosion followed up after the big one. The wind of the blast was enough to fling him away and the couple of partisans who called for him ran and caught up to him. The hooked their arms underneath Cal’s.

“NO, WAIT!!! [Y/N] IS STILL IN THERE!!!” Cal violently kicked and attempted to shake them off his arms, but they’ve held him tight enough to bruise his arms through the sleeves. “GET OFF OF ME!!!”

“Cal, come on! We gotta get out of here!” insisted the male partisan who’s the first to call Cal out when he ran off.

The two young men worked together in hauling Cal out of the fire’s radius—surprisingly, he was heavy for both of them, considering the insistent one was a bit bulkier in stature, but that’s the adrenaline doing its job in his body—the ginger kept his eyes on the blazing stronghold, his emotions have clouded the clarity of his mind as well as his good judgment.

The pair of rebels had regrouped with Cal in tow—who was still being stubborn and difficult to deal with. They reported the one known casualty—the woman who personally called you Little Spark, the woman named Yenna, murdered by the Inquisitor upon making his grand entrance earlier.

Cere personally approached him to greet him back, but when the woman saw that you’re missing, her eyes searched the entire group.

“Where’s [Y/N]?”

“She wasn’t with them when they rendezvoused,”

“Th-Then where?”

Cal’s face lit up and frantically patted his person in search of the compact radar. There was no sign of your blip. He could’ve sworn he saw it blink once before it died out.

“No! My radar’s bust, but I know she’s out there, Cere!”

Cere, unsure of what to make of Cal’s medley of emotions, sighed and spoke nothing. Cal insisted on setting up a search party for you with him personally leading it. The idea was merit, unfortunately, the young redhead isn’t the one calling the shots.

“Whoa, slow down, kid,” the captain in charge stepped into the scene between Cal and Cere. He expresses that he understands what the boy is going through, shell-shocked by the apparent fact that you might have been killed in the explosion, but he also expressed the importance of the survivors’ individual well-being.

“We have to tend the wounded first; and you’re gonna need some equipment if you want to charge through that fire out there,” added the captain.

“I won’t need a lot of men, rather I don’t any,”

The same couple of partisans who hauled Cal against his will—namely Larki and Morzen—cut in directly after Cal’s statement. They volunteered to go with him, thus it’s just the three of them as a search party. They have enough people back in the rendezvous point and the main hideout to care for the wounded and send them back for proper medical attention. The captain personally took and handed over sets of protective gears for Cal and his companions.

The three of them mounted speeder bikes—Cal rode along while Larki and Morzen shared. Cere watched the trio disappear into the horizon and then her head craned to the sky peeking over the trees.

It will be night very soon.

“Your boy sure is persistent,”

“It’s because he feels something is there, and he means what he says,” Cere argued. She nodded sideways to the captain, gesturing him to the tent until their land transport arrives.

[iamnemuru]

Stranger Danger - Loki Laufeyson

summary:

by a miracle, loki survives thanos' attempt to murder him and you find him trying to break in your house

pairing: loki laufeyson x reader

words: 1.86k

note: this took way too long, i’m sorry! i’ve been busy with a lot of stuff.

...

The lack of noise in the once busy streets was almost deafening.

You knew this was going to be the norm for the next couple of years until all of humanity, or at least your neighbourhood, got back on its feet. It was very depressing to admit, but you doubted everything would be the same again. Not with half of the population reduced to nothing but dust.

Despite the grave thoughts that kept visiting your mind constantly for the past few days, you’ve tried to live your life as normally as you can; knowing that mucking around in the confines of your room would do you no good.

So here you were, walking home from the supermarket in a street that’s far too quiet than usual.

You turned a corner towards your street, hoping to spot a neighbour out of their home today. The amount of interaction you’ve had with your neighbours ever since everyone disappeared was starting to become worrisome. In fact, the number of times you’ve seen any of them in the past few days was a whopping zero.

You were starting to believe that you’re the only one who’s survived in your area.

You were busy pondering the whereabouts of everyone you were acquainted with when you heard a faint noise; which sounded awfully a lot like someone’s voice. You directed your attention towards it and quickly spotted a tall figure a few ways ahead.

You halted in your tracks and squinted your eyes to get a better view. Pale skin, long dark hair and wait – is that a costume?

As far as you knew, not a single cosplayer lived in the vicinity. Though to be fair, you didn’t trust any of the information stored in your brain anymore. Not with beings like superheroes and an army of aliens popping out of the blue every now and then.

As you got nearer, the more it dawned on you that this man definitely did not live in your neighbourhood. Not only because his face was unfamiliar, but it was also because he looked very out of place in his leathery dark green suit and flowy cape.

“– just open!” Was all you managed to catch from the strange man’s session of frustrated shouts.

“Oh no,” You muttered to yourself when you realized he wasn’t standing on just about anyone’s front porch. He was on your front porch – trying to open your front door.

You let out a small groan and picked up your pace, fully knowing you couldn’t ignore him even if you wanted to. It was either that or letting a trespasser enter your private property.

You took it as your cue to speak when you were well within his earshot. “Uh, sir? Excuse me, what –”

You came into another abrupt halt when you felt the rest of your words lodge themselves in the back of your throat. Your eyes traced the side of his head with your mouth slightly hung agape.

His hair was caked in dried and somewhat fresh blood, which had dripped down to stain the skin on his face. You would’ve been impressed if it was Halloween – but it wasn’t, and the blood looked very, very real.

In hindsight, you probably had bigger matters to worry about than being robbed. A great example would be getting murdered, but it’s a little bit too late for that now you realized.

You contemplated running away as fast as you could when he didn’t budge from his place. One of his hands was resting on the doorknob and his gaze remained glued to the door. Your breath got caught in your throat when he glanced your way slowly, peering at you from the corner of his eyes.

A moment of silence passed. The blank stare you directed towards each other would’ve been comical if he didn’t look like he had just risen from a grave.

“Er –” You began to say, pausing when he turned to face you fully.

He crossed his arms in front of him, head slightly tilted to the side. “What business do you have with me, Midgardian?”

Mid – what?

You chose to ignore it, deciding it was probably part of whatever character he was trying to portray – if he really was doing a cosplay. They hadn’t added new members of the Avengers, had they? Man, it was probably high time you updated yourself in these things.

Your somewhat perplexed expression morphed into an anxious one. “You’re… On my property.”

The man seemed to perk up a little upon hearing your words. “Ah – splendid,” He commented, a ghost of a smile appearing briefly on his lips. “I would be eternally grateful if you could open the door for me.”

You blinked at him, looking utterly bewildered. “Am I supposed to know you?” You inquired, unsure if you were being dragged into an elaborate prank or was genuinely being asked to open the door for a stranger.

He looked taken aback, either by your cluelessness or courage to ask questions, you didn’t know which one. “I’m Loki, prince of Asgard.” He rose one hopeful brow. “God of Mischief?” He was staring at you as though you should have recognized him by now; though it became rather apparent after a while that you still had no inkling who he was.

Loki, if he wasn’t lying about his name, inhaled deeply, an expression of mixed exasperation and disappointment evident on his features. “I’m Thor’s brother.”

You arched an eyebrow at how pained he sounded to admit that. “Thor from the Avengers has a brother?”

“I’m adopted.”

“Oh,” You remarked awkwardly and shifted your gaze elsewhere, thinking of how to say your next set of words carefully. “Adopted or not… Shouldn’t you have powers? Why couldn’t you just uh, magic yourself inside?”

Loki looked at you indignantly. He opened his mouth to retort back but no words came out. You were no genius when it came to guessing but you were pretty sure he didn’t want to admit that he wasn’t capable of doing so.

He heaved a deep sigh, sensing that he wouldn’t be able to convince you any time soon. Loki brought up a hand towards you, a dagger clutched in his palm. “I didn’t want to have to resort to this.”

You quickly stumbled backwards with widened eyes, finally convinced that he was neither cosplaying nor pranking you. Loki observed the frightened look plastered on your features and for a split second, he felt a sudden surge of reluctance go through him.

He glanced back and forth between you and his hand before letting out a groan of annoyance, bringing his weapon down. A couple of years ago he wouldn’t have hesitated to take all life on Earth but now, he couldn’t even kill one mere mortal. How touching.

“Listen,” Loki pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand, another sigh slipping through his lips. “I’m horribly injured and my ability to self-heal isn’t working as well as it should, or any of my abilities for the matter. I simply need a place to stay for the meantime.”

You stared at him for a second, the hammering in your chest still present. “How can I be sure that you won’t hurt me?”

Loki returned your gaze. “You’ll just have to trust me.”

Wow, truly convincing words.

You suspiciously eyed the hand that was holding the blade. “You won’t try to murder me, will you?”

He followed your line of sight. “Oh. No. I - I wouldn’t, I don’t think my brother would be thrilled if I did.” A flash of green light engulfed his hand, taking the dagger with it as it went away.

Oh, so he really is a god.

You stood there for a moment, weighing your options. It did seem like he was telling the truth – green light tricks and everything.

You sighed.

Loki stepped aside as you walked towards the door, a paper bag clutched on one arm and the other busy fishing keys out of your pockets. You pushed the door open and walked inside, Loki tailing closely after you.

A small thump echoed within the space of your living room as you dropped the bag on the coffee table. Without waiting for your permission, Loki plopped himself down on the soft cushions of your sofa, looking weary as can be.

You turned to face him after the last bit of uneasiness has fled your body. It was rather rare that a Norse god would pull out a dagger and threaten to stab you.

“Since I’m staying here,” Loki brought his tired gaze towards you, all emotion absent from his face. “Would you like to know how I arrived on Earth?”

Stunned that he was willing to share it with you, all you did was give a tiny nod.

Loki was brief in his storytelling, obviously having no energy to share every little detail. He had apparently been floating in space, pacing in and out of consciousness after Thanos’ attack. Until he woke up fully, finding himself lying face down in the middle of nowhere; just a kilometre away from where you lived.

Silence soon followed after Loki finished speaking. Loki’s expression was downcast like he had lost everything that was important to him – which wasn’t that far from the truth.

You cleared your throat obnoxiously in a desperate attempt to snap him out of his depressive state. “You probably want to take a shower, right?”

You flashed him a weak smile and gestured for him to follow you. As you opened the bathroom door, you remembered something important.

You held out your hand towards him. “I’m (Y/n), just a human.”

The next hour went by in a flash, you managed to force Loki into your oversized clothes and you got all of his wounds bandaged and cleaned up. Though he had been trying to tell you that the bandages were unnecessary and the cuts would heal themselves in no time. God or not, you didn’t want him to have an infection.

Now, the two of you were in your kitchen. Him, perched casually on one of the chairs around the dining table and you, cooking food.

After seeing the mournful look on Loki’s face earlier; you had officially made it your duty to take care of him until he got back into shape. It was almost pitiful how quickly you had gotten attached. Even the memory of you trying to shoo him off your property seemed a bit strange and distant now.

But you had to remind yourself not to get used to his presence, knowing he wasn’t going to stay for long.

And speaking of which –

“Hey, Loki. How long do you think you’ll be staying?” You asked, twisting the cap off the salt shaker.

No response.

You twisted around, confused as to why Loki had suddenly gone quiet only to find him taking a nap on his seat. He was using his arms as a cushion for his head, his still slightly damp hair sprawled all over the kitchen table. His eyebrows were drawn upwards in a peaceful expression.

You smiled at him fondly, feeling your troubled thoughts disperse for the first time in a couple of days. You turned back to the stove after deciding to not disturb his much deserved and needed rest.

You could always ask him when he wakes up.

[undignifiend]

Trollhunters Fanfic AU idea: Heartstone Sun

A stupidly long ramble about themes I’m obsessed with. Warnings: mentions of people getting eaten, other horror elements, redemption speculation, and pontificating about hatred, dehumanizing propaganda, and the cycle of abuse (and an idea of how to break those three things). I’d love to write this if I can figure out how to do it justice, but that may take a while. Criticism is welcome; I can’t hone an idea to proper sharpness if I don’t see its dull spots.

What if the sun is actually a Heartstone - like The Great Gramma of all Heartstones (in this solar system, at least)? And was placed under an enchantment/curse by a prehistoric human coven that Had Enough because trolls outclassed humans in pretty much every arena, and people were getting eaten with impunity by extremely durable apex predators that laughed at their sticks and slings and fire? It's not like trolls really needed to eat humans - these mofos were powered by the sun (and could probably do crazy magic with all that excess power, to boot) - they just like how we taste.

Though perhaps humans also have a knack for passively absorbing Hearstone energies, and that's what they used to essentially poison the Heartstone against Trollkind? And that same passive absorption is why humans make good supplements for trolls who don't have a Heartstone to rely on, as shown in the comics? Since trolls couldn't gain Heartstone energy directly from the sun during the night, if they were injured and/or had a hankering, they'd have to eat creatures that still could. So maybe trolls tended to mostly eat people at night back then when they needed a quick boost because they couldn't get sunlight? And perhaps this contributed toward a more intense, visceral fear of the dark in humanity's evolution - like our common fear of the dark, but on steroids?

Gunmar's comment about "They try to make the night brighter. They fear the darkness," not only speaks to real human fears of the dark, but a mentality that was essentially beaten into Pleistocene-Era humans by impossibly strong and scary opponents (though I love the idea of some troll groups teaming up with humans and having various mutually-beneficial symbiotic shenanigans).

You could see all manner of behavioral, instinctive differences in these humans based on that. From a death-like, numbing paralysis intended to spare them the agony of their last moments, to an overwhelming itch to hide when it grows dark, to a need to sleep in groups for protection, etc... I imagine most beds in most cultures would be in hidden places within a house. Some cultures might even develop "false bedrooms" as traditional parts of their home to trick trolls or evil spirits that are more inclined to hunt with stealth.

This is partly inspired from a weird experience I had one night where I got this sudden, intense fear, and I've never experienced it since, and I still can't figure out what caused it. But some part of me felt a hostile presence in the woods by the house, and I knew it was far too powerful to fight, and I had the overwhelming urge to shut off all the lights, quiet everything that was making noise, and huddle in a closet until whatever it was passed. "Don't let it know you're here," kept playing in my head. I imagine being a human in this AU, especially in the Bad Old Days, would feel a lot like that.

After the Sun Curse (but before humanity regards trolls as myth), I imagine a common survival rule would be: Travel by day (when trolls can't, or at least have a harder time of it), and hide by night (so you don't run into them; if they find you, make them work for it, don't give yourself away).

Humans in this AU love to fancy themselves apex predators not simply as a power trip, but a denial of their true position in the food chain as prey. They can lie to themselves all they like, but their instincts remember and know better.

So to give humanity a fighting chance, this prehistoric coven developed a powerful spell to make the sun toxic to trolls, which would allow humans safety under the sun, which until then, had been a main source of power and sustenance for trollkind.

As an unforeseen catastrophe of apocalyptic proportions, much of trollkind's lore at the time was lost as they scrambled to deal with this development. Their cultures had to adapt, and new lore and methods of dealing with this catastrophe overtook lost histories (mostly verbal at the time). There was very little evidence left of how the sun was cursed, or that humans were behind it - the coven responsible did their utmost to destroy any sign or record of what they did, knowing that such information would rally trollkind against humankind. And even if trolls were weakened without their most sacred life source, they were still a dangerous enough threat that, if they could cooperate with each other, they'd surely wipe humanity out.

They almost succeeded in destroying all knowledge of it, but a certain tribe connected to a certain Heartstone found out, and their resulting fury at this act of desecration gave rise to Gunmar the Black.

This curse would be a deep source of anger and resentment at humanity for having stolen not only trollkind's ability to roam freely on their own world (which they were the dominant species on), but for poisoning a vital and sacred life-source. This is what Gunmar would be talking about when he talks about 'taking back the surface lands'. It's not just propaganda to him, it's his peoples' birthright, and it was stolen from them, and he emerged to set it right. This coven may have acted out of self-defense, but what they did was an unforgivable act of desecration. Gunmar and his Gumm-Gumms would still see it that way, but over time, as humanity loses their knowledge of trolls and turns their attentions toward each other, the rest of trollkind moves on and adapts and forgets their hatred, or their history of having once owned the world. The Gumm-Gumms are still angry about an ancient injustice, and the rest of trollkind, now believing themselves to have always lived underground, sees this 'take back the surface lands' talk as warmongering propaganda against a group that is seen as relatively ridiculous and tasty, but now off-limits depending on who follows the Pact.

While on that note, I imagine Gunmar would find the Pact outrageous and absurd. Humanity has no end to hold up in return, it's basically a heavy restriction on trolls who have already had so much taken from them. It's adding insult to injury, and that any troll would agree to it galls him to no end.

Before the curse, trolls ate fleshlings because we taste good and are satisfying sources of indirect Heartstone energy. Now, Gumm-Gumms also eat humans as an act of rebellion and punishment for what their ancestors did.

CHARACTER PROFILES:

JIM

I love Jim. But I think I'm going to handle him a bit differently in this AU than how he is in canon because I see an opportunity to say something important and relevant to a possible theme of this AU, and I'm not sure canon Jim would really be up for that.

I love the warm, nurturing, gentle side of Jim, and how he likes taking care of his friends. I love how he loves cooking for them, which is the quintessential nurturing act. I love how protective he is of his friends and his mom, and how even though he has made mistakes, he makes those mistakes with protective intentions. His heart's in the right place. This is the side of Jim who looks at Rule #2: Always Finish the Fight, and says "No," and spares Draal's life, and takes care of Chompsky instead of 'taking care of him', and risks precious time to go back for Nomura. This is the Jim I love, and the side of him I want to focus on in this AU.

And that side of him (it seems to me) clashes rather loudly with the other side of him that refuses to apply Rule #1 to Strickler in favor of rebellious mouthing-off, and treats the deaths of his enemies with sassy quips.

With regards to my attitude about that last part, I blame Faramir from Lord of the Rings. His brief monologue about 'the enemy' was formative for me. He fought to protect his people, and in doing so, he had to kill other people. And he didn’t hide from that fact. He had the strength and honesty to both do what he had to do, and to acknowledge that tragedy. He didn't try to diminish their deaths, and I cannot stress enough how important that is to me to see in a protagonist. So in this idea, Jim can be sassy in some cases, and he will kill if he believes he has to, but #2 is a last resort, and when it comes to that, he won't lie to himself or diminish what has happened.

Seeing someone as an obstacle or problem is a crucial step in making it easy to hurt or kill them, and it's one of the goals of particularly dangerous forms of propaganda: dehumanize the enemy. It's a perspective shift that makes fighting easier, but I believe it's one of the very worst lies we can ever tell ourselves or each other.

Acknowledging someone as a person, and not an obstacle or a problem, is (potentially) a powerful way to break the perception that you yourself are an obstacle or problem. If you want a chance to see someone’s relatability/"humanity", you first have to show yours. And they won’t always see it, and even if they do, they won’t always care – you might be hurt or killed anyway. But I think this re-framing is a crucial step in non-violent conflict resolution (in particularly intense cases). It’s risky as hell, so it’s not very popular, but when successful, it broadens perspectives and opens new paths in their minds. And I think that's a powerful and worthy theme; one that Jim could champion. A better way to Finish The Fight.

GUNMAR

In this AU, Gunmar has plans that stretch far beyond the Eternal Night (which, in this AU, would instead be a cure for the curse). From his perspective, he's trying to piece the world back together after several Apocalyptic-Grade Disasters. He's bitter and stressed, but he has stayed tenacious and ambitious despite millennia of warfare, failure, and being forgotten by the vast majority of the world while trapped in the Darklands. He's trying to lead his people out of a bad situation and restore their birthright, and he's annoyed and angry with the significant number of trolls who accept the current status quo when they could have so much more.

Because Gunmar emerged from a corrupted Heartstone and doesn't seem to have parents (perhaps no tribe/clan/colony? I love the extra-spooky supernatural vibe it grants him) I like the idea of him wanting his own tribe. He had a son whom he seemed to care for, and their regard for each other was the one and only thing in canon (in my mind) that elevated Gunmar. I'd like to capitalize on that in this AU. Gunmar was born tribeless, as a symbol of trollkind's general animosity toward humanity, but he obviously doesn't want to stay tribeless. He wants to establish his own line; he wants to create a future for his descendants to thrive in. His ultimate goal isn't so much about putting humans in their place as it is about giving his own people the prosperous future he thinks they deserve. To those who follow him, he's not their tyrant; he's their hero. His aggression is largely directed at humanity, but his goals are NOT human-centric after all.

Gunmar’s backstory (in canon) fascinates me. He was born from a Heartstone that had been transformed by the trollish population’s animosity toward humankind. I think this was supposed to reflect the classic Evil Corruption you see in a lot of fantasy, and leans on a kind of Victorian notion of "bad breeding" and the idea that because he emerged from evil conditions, he is evil by nature. But I think it’s more interesting to look at it as a wound, because that gives his anger a sharper sense of purpose that I think it otherwise lacks. Gunmar manifested from a rift between two populations, and has used the hatred that formed that wound to try and heal it – by taking the surface world and devouring the impudent humans who stole it. The method of devouring them didn’t simply develop because we taste good – it’s also a punishment, born of that same hatred, that says: “You thought you were better, but you are lesser. You wanted a vaunted place for yourself at great cost to us, but your true place is as nothing more than our food. This is what you deserve for trying to shut me and my kind out of our own world, and poisoning something sacred against us.” (referencing the curse on the Heartstone Sun, not the Killahead Banishment, which would come much later).

That may seem to him like a perfectly reasonable way to fix what he sees himself as (both literally and symbolically) born to fix. But even if all his dreams were to come true, that hatred would persist throughout the myriad abuses he would inflict upon humanity (if he’d bother to keep us around as livestock and/or slaves), and long outlast the last of the human population. It would linger, it would continue to fester, and it would be poised to be unleashed upon whatever other sufficiently threatening group crosses trollkind next. After all, that method ‘worked’ on humanity.

But you don’t quench hatred or fix abuse by indulging it. You fix it by learning (and accepting) the truth: no one is a mere obstacle, object, problem, or hated symbol. You did not deserve the abuses you suffered, but re-creating them and re-living them will not put you in control of them or absolve you in any way. (Though the temporary illusion of control may become addictive, it will remain fleeting and false). Abuse, if you let it define you, begets abuse. If Gunmar had achieved all his goals, sooner or later, he’d see his own reflection in a human born of the horrors he inflicted, and of the hatred humanity would have for him and his kind. This human would not see trollkind as anything other than a problem that they were born to solve, just as Gunmar sees humankind. But this would not surprise him at all, because that’s how Gunmar already thinks humans see trollkind. It’s easy to hate someone if you think they hate you. And it would not matter who would win that conflict, because the hatred and abuse would survive to be re-created and re-lived and inflicted on whoever the winner meets next. Nothing would be learned, and no one would heal.

I don’t know what would show Gunmar the truth, much less in a way that would matter to him. But in keeping with Jim's best tendencies in avoiding Rule #2, I think it's necessary for Jim to make the attempt in this AU. Whether or not this would result in Gunmar getting a redemption arc doesn't exactly matter - this is really about Jim's efforts to be the best guardian he can be for two interlinked worlds with a lot of bad blood between them, and I want to do those efforts justice. I don't currently know how, but I have some idea of where to start.

I think two key parts of non-violent conflict resolution are convincing the other party that 1) you care about the same thing they do, and 2) you either can make it easier to achieve, you see a better path to achieving it, or you may be able to improve the final outcome beyond what they originally thought or hoped was possible.

In this case, the goal for both sides is to heal that ancient wound between trollkind and humankind. It’s the plan that everybody disagrees about. Protagonists and antagonists (often, but not always) both ultimately want the same thing – they just disagree about what that’s supposed to look like, or how to achieve it.

Currently, I think that to truly heal, trolls and humans have to come to terms with each other. This is no small undertaking - it would change the world irrevocably - and might never be fully achieved, even after centuries of dedicated work on both sides. A healthy relationship (regardless of it’s nature) isn’t something you achieve and consider Done; it’s dynamic, it’s lived, it requires constant attention and respect, and the acknowledgment that it may change irrevocably as life throws its weird curve-balls. Most of all, it requires a dedicated effort to understand the other person. The surest way to kill a positive relationship is to allow oneself, during times of hardship, to slip into the mindset of seeing that person as an obstacle, problem, or symbol, rather than continue the effort of trying to understand them or why they’re acting difficult. And that’s just taking failing positive relationships into account. Consider all the hardship that comes from starting from a mindset of seeing people as obstacles or problems, and you could see hate-crimes between the populations. Now consider how many trolls and humans may interact with each other as they try to move forward together, and you can get some idea of how easily everything can fall apart, back into the same attitudes that led to the same wound that Gunmar manifested from.

And that’s not even touching on how trolls would have to watch their strength and their tempers around delicate little humans (even the ornery ones), and how humans would have to put a certain amount of trust, patience, and good faith in a group that was, in the past, known for eating them (and that still thinks they taste delicious). It will be easier for some than for others, but for those others, it may feel impossible.

I’m not saying it can’t be done. I believe it’s necessary and worthwhile. But I also believe it’s important to not downplay how difficult it would be. It would be stressful, it would come with times of crisis and doubt, and some might give up entirely, and it would be up to the rest to persevere despite the inevitable tragic incidents; to be brave, and not take such incidents as proof that peace is impossible. “Fear (if you don’t let it rule you) is but the precursor to valor.”

There would be hate-crimes (committed by both sides) between the groups. And there would be heroes (from both sides) rushing in to stop them. And there would also be vigils, gatherings of both humans and trolls, in honor of the victims who couldn’t be saved in time, and in solidarity, in honor of the peace they’re working for together. And I think, in that act of mourning and solidarity, therein lies their victory.

Love and grief are some of the most powerful, relatable (rather than ‘humanizing’ which is an embarrassingly ironic and limited word, especially in this context) emotions out there. And I think it’s that relatability that has the power to reveal people as more than obstacles or problems.

I doubt witnessing it would cause every Gumm-Gumm to reconsider their stance on humanity, much less Gunmar himself, but it could be a little step toward a better path; a seed of doubt – a check to keep them honest when they try to tell themselves tales of what humans and troll ‘traitors’ want, or deserve.

Another thing I imagine might challenge Gunmar’s perceptions has to do with the Decimaar blade. At first, I wasn’t sure what it’s supposed to symbolize in the show other than as an explanation for why anyone would follow someone so careless with their lives. It would also explain why no one assassinated him while he was weakened and starving in the Darklands. (Curiously, no one else seemed to be starving, and I’m not sure what to make of that. I think I missed something important.)

At first, I thought the Decimaar blade symbolized the ultimate hatred/abuse: it enslaves, it wipes out its victims' identities; it turns people into objects to be used by their master, and obstacles to be rid of by their enemies. There’s no loyalty involved, no sacrifice – nothing of meaning that is gained from willing service is preserved. It is simply the use of others – abuse made manifest. In that, I saw the Decimaar blade as an extension of Gunmar himself; a symptom of the conditions of his birth. The cruel irony here was that he had the power to turn his own people into the exact, flat, threatening (obstacles/problems) monsters humanity expected them to be. So from this, Gunmar wasn’t just born from trollkind’s hatred, but humanity’s, too. And just like with abuse un-dealt with, un-treated, he perpetuates it.

And then I learned that the Decimaar blade was won from Orlagk, so there goes that idea. Or at least the part of it being a part of Gunmar. But somehow now, I feel that helps it fit even better; I don’t currently think the Cycle of Abuse starts with Nature (in the whole Nurture vs Nature argument). I currently think abuse (in all it’s myriad forms, intentional or not) is inherited. Gunmar may have emerged from hateful conditions, and he may have inherited a direct metaphor for coercive abuse, and he may pass it on, but it’s not truly a part of him. Therein lies a little glimmer of hope that he might eventually see it for what it is - what it's doing to him and his people (who he was born to protect and provide for as a leader) - and reject Decimaar not only as a weapon, but as a way of thinking.

I'm a sucker for redemption arcs. I'm not sure I can give Gunmar one, or if I should even try. But I think in this, Jim has to make the effort to try to understand Gunmar and what he wants, and to convince him that there is a better way. Whether this version of Gunmar (eventually - I imagine it wouldn't come easy if it happens at all) takes him up on it or not, I don't know.

IF I go for it, though, I want to do it justice. Redemption is not about forgiveness or acquittal. Redemption is about climbing, no matter how far you’ve fallen, and even if you can never reach the top, you can still try to give others a boost along the way. Redemption (just like a relationship) isn’t achieved; it’s lived. And it doesn't necessarily mean joining the Good Guys. You won't see Gunmar Reformed agonizing about all the blood (human and trollish) he has spilled, or asking "Haven't I redeemed myself?" Gunmar Reformed (at least the way I'd hope to write him) may still have a great deal of contempt for humans in general, but he has learned enough about them that he can no longer see them in simplistic terms. He may privately think on What Could Have Been had he changed his perspective sooner, but he doesn't have the time or patience to dwell on regrets - the world is still hecked up, and he still has work to do (although the nature of that work has changed dramatically). I imagine if Gunmar changes his plans, he'll chase his new objectives his own way. The Trollhunters might have occasional, tenuous, scary, and unpredictable alliances with him when their goals align, but it might be a stretch to call them allies - a lot has happened, both sides are still angry with each other, but they've come to an understanding and have a degree of mutual respect, and can demonstrate enough good faith in one another to surprise each other. Gunmar will still have all his old ferocity, he'll just be channeling it in a new direction.

[plasma-paints]

Okay, Theory Time!

This is going to be really long, so to spare people I’m going to put pretty much all of this under the cut, but it involves time and space and the fact that we might have had this all wrong from the start. Also, probably best if you watch part 4 of Observation first.

Alright, so Sean not so subtly implied that the egos are in fact from different universes. The universes intersecting for a short period of time before separating again would explain why the egos tend to come and go in our timeline. A good example of this in popular media is The Convergence from Thor: Dark World. At minimum two universes, or points in space in the movie, overlap and thus matter/energy can pass between unhindered. Being in the centre of one of these anomalies would technically allow you to be in multiple universes at once. (I like to imagine bubbles mixed with a Venn Diagram for visualization.)

So pretty simple, the universes intertwine, someone passes through, boom their in our reality for a while. Except, these kinds of anomalies are stereotypically spacially specific, so if one were to enter into one and then leave its area of effect, they may not return to their original universe. Essentially, they’d be stuck, albeit temporarily if they can find another anomaly. This is what I imagine has happened to each of the egos.

It can explain away a lot of things: 

-Jackieboy-man’s and Marvin’s abilities - Dr. Schneep’s strange medical practises (at least in this universe) -JJ’s inability to speak -Chase being able to stand in for Jack

It could also be used to explain Anti in a similar fashion, just another universe’s version, but I don’t think that’s quite the case. Anti, unlike the rest, is different. That much has been made obvious by the fact that he’s the only seemingly knowledgable one. He seems to understand what’s going on intimately. “Time is broken.” This indicates that the universes aren’t necessarily colliding at the same relative time, let alone space, but the more interesting fact is that he knows that they should be. ‘Broken’ implies that he is aware of a time when time flowed properly, possibly without the universes intersecting at all. A state of order so to speak. 

Anti though is the epitome of chaos, so why does he of all the egos know what order looked like? I mean he bounces throughout space and time, bounces around space within dimensions, and doesn’t appear to have a physical form of his own. There’s absolutely nothing orderly about him. So why is he the omnipotent ego? For that exact reason. He’s unstable, unlike the others, he’s unable to remain anywhere outside of an anomaly. For whatever reason, he can’t leave. So he’s been stuck who knows how long, getting glimpses of multiple realities and eventually he must have just put it together. For him, time is the most broken, phasing between universes at an almost imperceivable pace... He, for lack of a better word, glitches.

Now the real question is why? What happened to result in this instability? Why are universes, that for all extensive purposes should remain separated, bouncing around and into each other like billiard balls? 

The simplest answer: Someone fucked up, and they fucked up badly. 

My thoughts are that it was one of two individuals who caused this cascade failure of the multiverse: Anti... Or Sean. The narrative, as I see it anyway, can only make sense if one of them or both of them is to blame. Why else would Anti continue to appear back in this universe, harassing the egos who also end up in this reality? 

Anti makes a lot of sense, as he’s like the focal point of the chaos, the epicentre. He’s the antithesis of order and seems to only want to bring down everyone with him. He makes for a stereotypical evil entity.

The story becomes more interesting if it’s Sean though, that tipped the balance. He wouldn’t even have to know he did it, an everyday action that this version of himself wasn’t supposed to do perhaps... 

***Everything under this point is a potential partial timeline/plot theory***

I’m purely speculating now, but possibly that action was making a youtube channel. (I’ll come back to this.)

It would tie a lot of things together actually, and it would finally give Anti a proper motive. He just wants this to be over. “I’m tired of playing pretend, fucking circles!” Who knows how long it’s been for him? How many different attempts he’s made at fixing this, only to fail over, and over, and over? How many plans he’s tried? How many of them we’ve seen? Think about how calmly he said, “Time is broken.” This time around was different from his usual overzealousness. Possibly because it was one of his first attempts at reaching out, asking for help, hoping that somehow, someone else would put together the pieces and end his torment. 

It’s odd and fascinating because this entire time we might have been framing him as a villain because of what we witnessed first - the violence, the threats, the manipulation- that we missed the overall message: “Help me.” 

 If time isn’t flowing the same for him as it is for us, he could have been trapped in this in-between state for countless lifetimes: “I am eternal.” Being torn apart and stitched back together a billion times a second everywhere and nowhere, “always there, always watching.” Frantically he puts in information wherever he can: glitches, video tags, titles, social media, in those brief moments when he occupies our reality once more. He’s figured out that this universe is the problem, we’re the epicentre of a catastrophe beyond the comprehension of everyone but him. He tries, and he tries, and he tries to get someone to notice him. He becomes more knowledgable as time goes on, finds tricks to staying more stable, gathering allies from alternate realities (like those from the overnight watch), manipulating universes so that they intersect at the right places, puppeteering on a cosmic scale. 

Nothing ever works perfectly though, so he also becomes increasingly desperate. No one else is putting the pieces together, bringing his nightmare to an end. Suffering endlessly until he finally snaps, coming to a single conclusion. In order for this hell to end, he has to kill the person who started it all: our Sean. Time doesn’t matter to him after all, so all of the attempts we’ve witnessed are his end game. Perhaps he mistakenly took Chase for Sean due to him crossing universes and manipulated him into ending his own life (Chase’s power hour.) Another time he appeared while Sean was dying, and tried to disable the surgeon working on him (Kill Jacksepticeye.) He partially succeeds, and Sean’s in a coma.

Here’s where to channel comes in. If it’s the error that needs to be corrected, it explains why Anti’s so obsessed with us, the community. He may think that maybe that too would be enough, that if the channel dies, it’s the same thing as Sean dying, the mistake ceases to be. Except, even with Sean out of commission, the channel lives on. The other egos, primarily Chase it would seem, taking over to keep things running while Schneep tends to Sean. 

None of the Egos stuck in our reality have worked Anti’s situation out, obviously, all they see is another version of themselves actively trying to kill them all and so they band together. Realizing that these other realities’ versions of himself were actively interfering in his plans, he moved on to eliminate them from the equation too. Possibly he thought blackmail would suffice for Chase, so he took his kids. Instead of just sabotaging Schneep’s surgery in kill Jacksepticeye, he moves to try to choke him dead instead. An unending cycle of attempts to rid himself of Sean, of the stupid little thing that has caused him unending pain and infuriation.

Except... It does end. I’ve felt rather adamant that Say Goodbye is not the first major appearance of Anti from his perspective, but the last. Time goes by, Anti grows stronger and picks a time and place to focus on: October 2016. In order to focus himself there, he creates a sort of beacon whenever he happens to glitch through. “You all said my name,” for the first major time in our timeline, a call throughout time and space, “kept me inside.” We gave him a tether to one spot long enough to act out his plan. “This is all your fault! Too long! [You should have] listen[ed] to me!” We never put the pieces together, we took too long, so he had to resort to killing Sean.“You all made this happen! You could have stopped this, but you just watched as this happened!” He’s angry with us because if we had put the pieces together we could have ended his suffering earlier as well as saved Sean. “Now, he’s gone forever.” It’s over, it’s done, Sean’s dead, Anti presumably goes back to whatever reality he was from, and time and space fix themselves. We don’t know this though, because we still have to live out our failure in a paradoxical timeline that once everything is back in balance should cease to exist, no longer serving a purpose. So it’s literally the last chance to, “Say goodbye.” Not just to Sean, nor Anti, but to our universe itself.

But that’s just a theory, a meta-theory. Thanks for reading!

@therealjacksepticeye

[duhragonball]

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (105/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

Previous chapters conveniently available here.

[8 February 233 Before Age.   Planet Quadzityz.]

Unless Luffa acted quickly, the Planet Quadzityz was doomed.  

Only moments ago, she had battled a Saiyan possessing unusual powers, powers that were now seeping into the ground where his corpse now lay.    Luffa didn't understand the unnatural ki energy that was contaminating the soil, but she had her suspicions, and they didn't paint a very optimistic picture.    As the ki soaked into the ground, it was absorbed into the soil, seemingly infusing it with power, a power Luffa sensed to be unstable.   With each passing moment, the contamination expanded deeper into the ground and across a wider area.    Luffa was beginning to think that it would eventually explode.   The only question remaining was how much of the planet's crust would be destroyed when that finally happened.  

Luffa had tried to quarantine the affected soil using her own ki energy.   As a Super Saiyan, her power was far greater than the energy she was trying to contain, but she had to exert a greater effort over a large volume, and with each failed attempt, the volume of soil to contain grew ever larger, and the problem became that much harder to solve.   Brute strength wasn't enough; she lacked the 'leverage' necessary to accomplish the task.   She felt like a champion weightlifter trying to pick up a barbell with both hands on the same end.

She was worried about her wife.   The dead Saiyan, Jolok, had managed to damage Luffa's communicator, so there was no way to warn Zatte about the impending catastrophe.   She was tempted to simply abandon Quadzityz to its fate, grab Zatte, and get to their ship before it was too late.   The act of a coward, but in her heart of hearts, Luffa always thought of herself as cowardly.   Her immense Super Saiyan power didn't make her any braver; it just made her more secure against most threats.   If anything, being a Super Saiyan only made her more afraid of situations she couldn't punch into submission, like the one that was unfolding before her eyes.

On top of that, there was the Mindworm.    Jolok never said how he acquired his strange increase in strength, but he did mention that his benefactor wanted to keep it secret.   To protect Jolok against telepathic intrusion, he was given the Mindworm, a psychic 'program' that replicated itself in Luffa's mind when she tried to probe Jolok's mind for answers.   It didn't actually do anything to Luffa's own consciousness; it simply copied itself over and over again, taxing her own mental resources.   It felt like the telepathic equivalent of eating something much, much spicier than expected, and being overwhelmed by the hot sensation.   Luffa had managed to dispel the worst of its effects, but she was still distracted by the lingering "heat" in her brain, as the Mindworm still struggled to continue growing in her thoughts.  

She slapped her hands on her cheeks and shook her head.   "Focus, dammit!" she said to herself.   "Everyone on this planet is dead if you don't do something!   Chanisp would have figured this out by now!"

Chanisp was the last Super Saiyan before her, and Luffa often looked to the ancient hero as a source of inspiration.   The stories said that a demon cut off his tail to prevent him from becoming a Giant Ape under the full moon, but Chanisp refused to give in to despair.   He trained in secret, shoving heavy blocks of cut stone for lack of any other means, pushing his body to become stronger and stronger, until he no longer needed the Giant Ape form to claim victory and avenge his lost tail.  The moral was that a Saiyan was greater than the sum of his parts.    Denied one path to success, a worthy Saiyan would always find another.   Luffa looked at the end of her own tail, which glowed yellow from her Super Saiyan form.   She supposed looking at her tail was one thing she could do that Chanisp never could.   There had to be a way out of this.  

And then she had it.    Chanisp beat his demon by moving large blocks of granite.   Luffa would do the same.  

She flew two miles from the center of the ki-infused mass, and dove straight into the ground.   Had anyone been there to witness it, they would have seen a brilliant golden light shining out of the tunnel she had created.   A moment later, the hole in the ground expanded into a trench, as Luffa carved a path through the bedrock below.    Once the trench formed a complete circle around the affected soil, she began to cut at the bedrock beneath it, slicing through millions of cubic feet of rock with a thin beam of ki energy.   When she was finished, she imagined the result looking something like a giant mudpie, four miles across, sitting upon a rocky crust.    

Moving such a massive object would be impossible, even for her.   Cutting it into smaller pieces would certainly help, but it would take days to move them all one by one.   Fortunately, Luffa didn't need to move the entire thing.     She tunneled under the center of the "mudpie" and charged enough ki to destroy it.    She had enough raw power to destroy the entire planet if she wanted, so blowing up a small piece of it was easy.   The trick was to direct the destructive force up and away from the part of Quadzityz that she didn't want to destroy.    If Jolok's ki had been allowed to explode on its own, it would have potentially damaged the planet's crust, or worse.   Luffa's plan would do a lot of damage to the surrounding area, but with any luck it wouldn't be much worse than the devastation caused by the war she was trying to stop.

She sensed the outer fringes of Jolok's power in the soil, and focused her attack on it.    At the same time, she enveloped the entire "mudpie" with a ki field that would help channel the force of the explosion straight up.    All of this seemed rather strange to her.    Usually, the things she did with her Super Saiyan power were just a scaled up version of things she he had used her ki for as a teenager.   What she was doing now felt more like some sort of engineering problem, even though the techniques she used were simple enough.   There was no enemy here except for time and uncertainty.  

When Jolok's posthumous ki energy finally detonated, the force of it proved almost too much for Luffa to hold.   Her own power was superior to his, but the mass of the soil was a factor now.   Somehow, Jolok's power had infused into the earth itself, making things difficult.    That was why Luffa had made the "mudpie" so big.   There was enough "good" dirt surrounding the "bad" dirt that it helped dampen the lateral force of the explosion.   Luffa just had to make sure nothing got through.    It was hard work, but reasonably straightforward.   After several minutes, the destruction subsided, and Luffa could sense no more of Jolok's ki in the "mudpie".   As she burst through it to emerge onto the surface, she saw that the soil that remained had been completely reduced to ash.   There was no trace of Jolok's body at all, which was hardly a surprise, since the corpse had been at the center of Luffa's maelstrom.  

The Mindworm still bothered her, but it had faded into little more than a mild annoyance.   In another hour, it would probably be gone altogether.    She wanted to lie down for a while, but there was no time for that.    There was still a war going on, and she had just lost a lot of time saving the lives of all the people who were trying to kill her.   With a sigh, she flew back to the island she had been using as her base.     The mystery of Jolok's appearance on the planet would have to wait.  

*******

"Why hasn't Unit 6 reported yet?   Captured?!   Then we'll have to divide the Third Corps to hold the perimeter... What do you mean there's no way to reach Third Corps?   Blast it, you had better be working on it, mister!   If I don't get--!"

The commanding general of the Red faction had been having a bad day.  Luffa had destroyed his cyber-slorgs, mechs from the Green Army had nearly taken his headquarters twice, and communications had been spotty at best.  So when the invisible intruder crept up behind him and injected him with an anasthetic she had stolen from his own medical staff, she decided that it was probably the best thing that had happened to him all day.   By the time he woke up, she planned to sabotage his base to such an extent that he would be completely unable to command his troops.    Maybe he didn't want this unscheduled vacation, but from the sound of his voice, he probably needed it.  

When the general's staff rushed to check on their leader, Zatte picked them off one by one.   A kick to his adjutant, then an elbow to his staff sergeant, and then she drew her pistol and stunned the two guards as they entered.    The pistol was a last resort, since Zatte's energy manipulation powers couldn't hide the sound it made when it fired, but the guards were the last resistance she faced, and once she kicked their weapons away, she allowed herself to become visible again.   Taking a seat next to the sleeping general, she put a portable drive of music into his computer, and hummed along to the tune as she began disrupting the Green Army's logistical network.    

Several minutes later, she sensed Luffa flying towards the base, and when she crashed through the ceiling, Zatte turned her chair around to meet her.

"Rough day, sweetheart?" Zatte asked.   Luffa was covered in dirt, sweat, and probably slorg remains, though it was difficult to tell.  Disheveled as she was, Zatte had seen her in much worse shape.

"Are you all right?" Luffa asked.  

"Sure," Zatte said.    "What happened with that Saiyan?    I couldn't raise you on the communicator, so I thought he must have damaged it.   Then your power skyrocketed..."

"I almost got you killled," Luffa said.  

"Oh?" Zatte said.   She stood up from the chair and approached her.    

"I was thinking... maybe you should get to the ship and get into orbit where it's safer," Luffa said.  

"I think I'm safe enough right here," Zatte said.  

"Somebody could drop a bomb on this place any minute, and I wouldn't be able to sense it," Luffa said.  

"The base has alarms for that," Zatte said.   "I took out a lot of their systems, but not the early warning stuff."  

Luffa smiled somewhat bashfully.   "Uh... something else then.    There's enemy mechs in the area."

Zatte pointed at the general sleeping in his chair.    "Not anymore," she said.   "You can thank him for that when he wakes up."

"Oh.   Well good," Luffa said.  

"Are you batting your eyes at me?" Zatte asked.  

"Huh?   No, I'm just blinking.    Got some dust in my eyes from earlier."

"There's a sink in the general's quarters," Zatte said.    "You can go freshen up."

She took her hand, as if to lead her to the general's room, and Luffa suddenly pulled her close and embraced her.  

"I really think you should get to the ship," Luffa said in a low voice.    

"Only if you take me," Zatte said.    

"I can't.   I need to get back out there."

"Stay," Zatte said.   She reached for the back of Luffa's neck and ran her hand through her short yellow hair.    "I want to hear how you almost got me killed."

"It's... kind of embarrassing, really," Luffa said.   Her throat was suddenly dry.  

"Well, let's go to the general's quarters," Zatte suggested.  She pointed at the soldiers she had knocked out.    "Plenty of privacy there.   Not that these guys are going to give us any trouble."

Luffa looked over Zatte's shoulder to see them.    "You took them out yourself?" she asked.  

Zatte showed her the knuckles on her left hand, which still bore bloodstains from one of the soldiers she had punched.  "Does that answer your question?" she replied.

"You're good," Luffa said.   She looked at Zatte's hand like it was a sacred relic.    

"You still think I'm in danger here?" Zatte asked.  

"Yes," Luffa said.   "I know you can handle yourself, but..."

"Go on," Zatte said.  

Luffa leaned in closer and spoke softly into her ear.   "There's certain risks involved, and I wouldn't want to expose you to--"

"To this?" Zatte asked as she moved her left hand closer to Luffa's nose.  Zatte didn't really understand Saiyans--not even after marrying one-- but she knew that the smell of enemy blood on her person drove her wild.   Her left nostril twitched, and they both smiled.    

"Maybe we should go to that general's quarters," Luffa said.    

"Absolutely," Zatte said.   She put her hands on Luffa's hips and worked her fingers into her pants pockets.    "It'd give you a chance to get more comfortable."

*******

An hour later, the General in command of the Red faction awoke.     Finding his subordinates missing, the base empty, and his communications equipment inoperable, he located a weapon and staggered through the corridors in search of answers.    Eventually, he made it to his own quarters, where he found two alien women making love in his bed.

"What in blazes--?" he gasped.   There were no words to adequately express his shock.   It was truly the last thing he expected to find, and he had no idea how to respond.  Luffa's nonverbal yelp--roughly transcribed as 'blaaap!'-- was probably more indicative of the common mood of all three persons in the room at that moment.    Without really thinking, Luffa swung her arm out to fire a ki blast at the general, and might have killed him on the spot if Zatte hadn't reached out and caught her.  

"Don't shoot him," she cried.    "We need him to surrender his troops!"  

"What the hell are you doing in here?!" Luffa shouted at the man.  

"I--!   I--!" In that moment, the general wasn't entirely sure what he had ever been doing anywhere.   It had finally dawned on him that one of these women was the Super Saiyan who had been shellacking his armies all day long.   In all the confusion, he had completely forgotten about the plasma weapon he had in his right hand.    Truthfully, he had forgotten that right hands and plasma pistols existed as concepts.   Now that he remembered, it all seemed very pointless.  Falling back on his earliest days of basic training, he dropped his weapon and raised his hands over his head.

"Luffa, he lives here," Zatte said.   As Luffa had gathered up his bedsheet to cover herself, Zatte resorted to using one of his pillows and a bath towel that happened to be lying beside her.  

"I thought you knocked him out!" Luffa said.

"I did," Zatte said.  "The sedative must have worn off... What time is it?"

"If you had just gone back to the ship like I asked--" Luffa groaned.  

"Oh, you knew what you were doing," Zatte said.   "Telling me you 'almost got me killed', like you don't know how much that turns me on..."

Luffa was already blushing, but somehow she managed to turn a shade redder.   "Zatte, he's standing right there!" she growled.  

"So?" Zatte asked.  

"So you don't need to tell him every detail of--!"

"Luffa, he saw us," Zatte argued.   "What am I gonna tell him that he doesn't already know?   What did you do with my underwear?"

Luffa turned even redder.   "Don't talk about--!    Arrgh!"

"Honestly, you can be such a big baby sometimes," Zatte grumbled.    "Like you'll shrivel up and die if anyone finds out you have a sex life.   Oh, that's why I couldn't find it.   He's standing on it."  

The general looked down and saw pair of briefs under his left boot.   "I... I... surrender," the general said.  

"You stay out of this!" Luffa shouted.

"Hi," Zatte said as she waved hello to him.    "Can I just get you to move your foot...  Thanks.   Yeah, so I know I'm not supposed to say this, but she and I are married, and we have sex all the time.   It's pretty terriffic."

Luffa covered her head with the sheet and lay in a fetal position on the bed.    

"You'd think one of us would have sensed you coming down the hall," Zatte said with a shrug, "but I guess we were distracted.    You know how that goes."

"Uh... uh-huh," the general said.   He finally found the wherewithal to move towards his chair, and he gingerly lowered himself into the seat.    

Zatte turned herself and her clothing invisible as she dressed herself.    For a moment, the only evidence that there was anyone else in the room was the depression Zattes's body made from sitting on the bed, and the whimpering heap that lay under the covers.  

"So yeah," Zatte said, "we need you to order your troops to stand down.   I mean, as awkward as all of this is, we did capture you just now."

"Of course," the general said.  "Of course..."

"Luffa will escort you and your troops to the island with the other prisoners, and it shouldn't take too much longer to get everyone back home."  

"Anything you say," he murmured.  

Zatte finally faded back into sight, now fully dressed.   She fetched Luffa's gear from various parts of the room and tossed it all onto the bed.   "She's actually really nice once you get to know her," Zatte said as she gestured to the bed.    

Suddenly, an alarm sounded through the halls of the base.    Zatte  and the general both looked up when they heard it, for both of them knew what it meant.  

"Enemy mechs," Zatte said.    "Guess they didn't know the base was already captured.   Hey, Luffa!   Break time's over, buster, we've got company."

"Go away," Luffa said.  

Zatte tossed Luffa's clothes on top of the covers and took the general's hand.   "Let's give her a minute to straighten up," she said as she led him out of the room.    

The two of them were about halfway down the corridor when Zatte heard a loud crash from inside the general's quarters, indicating that Luffa had smashed her way out through the ceiling on her way to deal with the mechs.  

"So," she said to the general.   "While we're waiting for her to deal with that, maybe you can tell me what you know about that other Saiyan who showed up a little while ago.   You know, the one who almost blew up the whole planet?"

*******

Later, after the Green faction surrender had been completed and Luffa had replaced her damaged communicator, she focused her efforts on shutting down the Blue forces.   Her main objective was to destroy any and all slorgs on the planet, and since the slorgs were being used by the Red faction, she knew she would find slorgs wherever she found their prey.   As she fought on the flight deck of one of their flying fortresses, she and Zatte discussed what they had learned from the Green general.

"The Greens had no idea that a Saiyan was on the planet," Zatte voice explained into Luffa's earpiece while Luffa ripped apart a plasma turret.    "The general's no dummy.   He knew any Saiyan activity on Quadityz was sure to draw you into the war."

"That goes for all three sides," Luffa said.   "But I'm here anyway, on account of the Reds using slorgs.   I'm thinking someone decided that I was going to pacify the sector sooner or later, so there was no use in holding back.   Right now, the war is about which side can make the greatest gains in the rest of the sector while I'm bogged down on the planet.   Even if Quadzityz was completely destroyed, or made uninhabitable, it would still--   Hang on a second."

Luffa stopped speaking while she confronted a mech.   The machine was twenty feet tall and shaped like a winged man.   A pilot rode in the robot's chest, and fired cluster bombs and missiles at Luffa in a desperate attempt to distract her from the flying fortress.   Luffa could have destroyed the entire vessel in a single blow, but her goal was to disable its offensive capabilities while sparing its propulsion.    That way, when its commanders ultimately surrendered to her, it could follow her back to her demilitarized island under its own power, and thus make a very tempting target for the Reds.   The only downside to her plan was that she had to fight very carefully, holding back most of her power and carefully choosing her targets, while the enemy could strike back with no such constraints.   Accordingly, the mech's pilot used Luffa's own tactics against her, positioning himself in such a way that Luffa would risk hitting the fortress if she attacked it.    

To cope with this, Luffa decided to go on the defensive, hoping that would throw the pilot off balance.   When she flew away from the mech, he hesitated before chasing after her, and this allowed her to circle around and flank it.  

"Okay, I'm back," Luffa said as she cracked the mech's cockpit and hauled the pilot out into the open.   She tossed him to the flight deck and watched him scurry back to the relative cover of one of the hangars.   "Where were we?"

"Jolok's employer," Zatte said.  

"If he had one," Luffa replied.   "Maybe he really was a lone wolf looking for revenge."

"It's a safe bet that someone paid him to come to Quadzityz," Zatte said.   "Sure, he might have had personal reasons for coming here to attack you, but he still had to arrange for transportation, and any of the warring factions would have been happy to reimburse him at the very least.   Small price to pay for taking you out."

"Yeah, that adds up," Luffa said, "but whoever paid his way wouldn't have done it directly.   Most people know that hiring Saiyan mercenaries is a great way to get my attention.  They must have gone through a middleman."

"And if there really is someone secretly setting up mercenary work for one Saiyan, then he probably knows where we can find others," Zatte concluded.  "Maybe we finally have a lead on this."

"It's his accomplice that worries me," Luffa said.   "I only sensed him for a second, but it was definitely another Saiyan energy."

"You think he's still on the planet?" Zatte asked.

"If he was working with Jolok," Luffa speculated, "then he probably bugged out when he thought the planet was going to explode.   If he was an independent operator, then he must have had some other business on Quadzityz.   He must have been suppressing his ki so I wouldn't notice him.   Something must have gone wrong, and he had to reveal his power."

"Then he probably fled as soon as that happened," Zatte said.   "We might find a clue in the general area where you sensed the guy.  If he left in a hurry, he might not have been too careful about covering his tracks."

"We can check it out after I get the planet pacified," Luffa said.    

"Wait, really?" Zatte asked.

"Something wrong with that?" Luffa asked.  

"I'm just surprised you're willing to wait that long," Zatte explained.   "I know how badly you want to find King Rehval.   I thought you'd want to drop everything and check this out."

"A few more hours won't change anything," Luffa said.   "It'll be easier for us to investigate when we don't have people shooting at us.   I'd ask you to go alone, but the area's too big for you to cover by yourself.    But if you want to get a head start, that's okay with me."

"No, I agree," Zatte said.   "I'm just impressed, is all."

"You've seen the devastation on this planet, Zattie," Luffa replied.   "There's kids who don't even have clean water.   I can't call in a Federation relief fleet until this place settles down, so every minute I waste, things get a little worse.    I never should have let it get this bad in the first place..."

"You were busy putting out fires in other parts of the galaxy," Zatte said.   "You can't be everywhere at once."

"No," Luffa admitted.   "But I can still do better.   I have to do better."

There was a pause in their conversation, during which Luffa descended below the flight deck and began smashing weapons systems and disarming soldiers as she made her way to the engine room.  

"Tell you what," Zatte said.  "We have a name.    Maybe I can pull up some information on Jolok.   Find out what he's been up to before he came here, and where he's been."

"He mentioned passing through the Reelor Cluster," Luffa said.  "You might start there.  Also, see if you can find any records on a fortune teller who was recently hospitalized.   He told me he used the Mindworm on some poor lady before he suckered me with it."

"You think she might know something?"

Luffa grabbed a rifle from a soldier and struck him with the butt of it to move him out of her way.   "No," she said, "but she didn't recover from it as quickly as I did.   If she's still alive, I thought I might be able to help her..."

*******

Many light years from Quadzityz, Lesseri and her team were putting as much distance between themselves and Luffa as possible.   With no particular destination in mind, Endive had set the autopilot and joined the others in the ship's mess, which they used for conferences.    

"I still can't believe we pulled that off," Guwar said.   "When I sensed your ki for that split second, I thought we were done for..."

"We would have been," Lesseri said, "if that other Saiyan hadn't shown up when he did."  She picked up the sculpture that had been sitting on the table, and set it back down again.    "We even made a little profit along the way.   I don't know how much ruthenium is going for these days, but if it's worth more than gold, there ought to be enough in this trinket to finance the rest of our search."

"So who was that Saiyan anyway?"  Treekul asked.    She was the only non-Saiyan in the party, as evidenced by the lavender hue of her skin, and the dark green stubble on her head.   "I can't sense power levels like the rest of you, but Guwar made it sound like he was almost as strong as Luffa."

"Not quite that powerful," Endive said, "but he did manage to keep her occupied for quite some time, which is a feat in itself.   He was definitely Saiyan, though I've never sensed a ki like that from any Saiyan I've ever met."

"He's a Jindan user," Lesseri said.   "He had to be."

"Maybe we shouldn't jump to conclusions," Guwar said.   "Most of what we know about Jindan is speculation at best."

"There's no other explanation," Lesseri insisted.    "He was no match for Luffa, at least not when she's being serious, so I have no idea why he tried to challenge her, but there was something... off about his power."   She pointed at Guwar and Endive.   "You both sensed it too, right?"

Endive nodded.  "There was something unusual about him.   Perhaps he was connected to Salziff."

"Salziff?" Guwar said.    "What's he got to do with any of this?"  

"You know him?" Lesseri asked.   Her left eyebrow rose as she waited for his response.

"We've met," Guwar said ruefully.   "I wouldn't call him a friend.   And he definitely wasn't that jacked-up Saiyan who showed up and got in Luffa's face.   The ki was all wrong for Salziff."

"Well some time back, he paid a visit to the same man we stole this from," Lesseri said as she pointed to the sculpture.   "He wanted the same artifacts we did, the pot and that scroll."

"It's not a pot, it's a retort," Treekul said.    "You use it for distillation, although the runes inscribed on its surface could--"

"All I know," Lesseri broke in, "is that a Saiyan named Salziff was trying to get alchemy stuff from a private collector on Quadzityz, and then we show up and do the same thing."

"You think Salziff is a Jindan user, too?" Guwar asked.  

"Or maybe he's looking for Jindan users, just like we are," Lesseri said.   "Either way, he seems to know something we don't, and since Treekul's going to need some time to work with those items we stole, I say we track him down and ask him a few questions in the meantime."

"He's no pushover," Guwar warned her.   "He's nowhere near as strong as that guy who confronted Luffa on Quadzityz, but Salziff is nothing to sneeze at."

"Three against one?" Lesseri said.  "I like those odds."  

"But how will we find him, Lesseri?" Endive asked.   "He'll be hiding from Luffa just like every other Saiyan in the galaxy."

"We don't have to find him," Lesseri said with a gleam in her eye that matched the reflection of the light on her teeth as she smiled.    "We have something he wants, remember?   He was begging that Quadzity collector for the scroll and the pot... excuse me, the retort.    So once he finds out we have it, he'll come to us."

NEXT: Dire Warnings.

[thecomicsnexus]

Batman #332-335. February-May, 1980. By Marv Wolfman, Irv Novick, Frank McLaughlin, Don Newton, Steve Mitchell and John Celardo.

Robin decides to leave Batman's side, refusing to tolerate Talia's presence in the Batcave. Not giving much thought to Robin's decision, Batman investigates the Gregorian Falstaff problem and discovers that his foe is being bankrolled by an outside interest from a Swiss bank account. He deduces that Caroline Crown, Bruce Wayne's new secretary, has been feeding Falstaff Wayne Enterprises information and, going to see her, finds Ms. Crown with a mutate, who threatens to harm "Elizabeth" unless she keeps up the information supply. Batman is unable to best the mutate in battle and is knocked unconscious, while Caroline Crown flees.

The next day, Caroline Crown confesses to Bruce Wayne that her daughter Elizabeth is being held prisoner by Gregorian Falstaff in an upstate hospital. When Wayne confronts Falstaff in the latter's office, he discovers that Falstaff has bought up the mortgages on Wayne's Asian oil properties, making most of Wayne's assets virtually worthless. Bruce angrily refuses Falstaff's offer to work with him as his lackey.

Meanwihle, Robin goes to Catwoman for help with the Falstaff affair. That night, Talia tries to drug Batman and goes to Falstaff's office herself. Batman, who just pretended to be drugged, trails her to Falstaff's place and confronts the crooked man's thugs an army of mutates. When Batman defeats the monsters, he goes looking for Falstaff. Holding Elizabeth Crown hostage, Falstaff sends an energy-globe at Batman using a strange weapon, but Talia kicks him from behind into the globe and Falstaff disintegrates.

Talia explains that Falstaff once worked for her father, who gave him the globe-shooter. She then embraces and kisses Batman, just as Catwoman and Robin arrive at the place to investigate. Heartbroken, Catwoman goes away leaving Robin behind.

On the high seas, Archer Templeton thinks he has made an escape from Infinity Island, a twin-peaked volcanic isle in the middle of the ocean, by raft. But a red energy-globe from one of the island's peaks engulfs him and destroys him. In his raft, a small radio transmitter beeps on.

Days after the previous events, Catwoman tracks down a gang of crooks pulling a chemical warehouse robbery. She apprehends all but one, Joseph Walters, whom she traces back to Karlyle Krugerrand, who was Falstaff's former right hand. Krugerrand is apparently continuing Falstaff's work as he informs Walters that he and Falstaff were indeed working for another master.

Krugerrand then tries to use the chemicals and the electricity from a Gotham power station to transform several subjects into mutates. Catwoman battles Krugerrand and knocks him backwards as the equipment, powered beyond its limits, explodes and Krugerrand, Walters and the mutates are destroyed. Catwoman trudges off, suspecting that Krugerrand's and Falstaff's employer is Talia, who, unknown to her, is watching her leave the power station.

In Katmandu, Nepal, King Faraday receives the radio signal from Archer Templeton's transmitter, for which he has been waiting ten years.

Meanwhile, Batman, disguised as Karlyle Krugerrand, is allowed inside the Criminal Bank in Montfaucon, Switzerland, which handles cash for virtually all criminal organizations in the world. He learns that Falstaff did business with the bank, but his disguise is penetrated and he is wounded while escaping. Upon returning to the hotel he is staying at, Talia heals Bruce with her special salve. In the privacy of their room, he confides to her that Falstaff was hired to ruin Bruce Wayne, but he does not know why.

That night, Bruce and Talia face another assassination attempt, and decide that the best way to meet their next contact, one Captain Torrents, in Hong Kong is to cross the heavily-guarded Red Chinese border. They manage to do so, despite several perils. Bruce leaves Talia behind as he boards Torrents' junk, The Phoenix. But once on board, Bruce is locked into a room which is filled with sleep gas, and he falls victim to the fumes instantly.

Robin and Catwoman are present when Ronald Watkins is released from jail for spilling information about Gregorian Falstaff. Timothy Fox, who also goes free, is astonished to hear that Falstaff paid Watkins to raid the Wayne Foundation building, to beat Lucius Fox and intended to have him kill Timothy later. Upon release, Tim and Lucius have a heartfelt reunion.

Later, Commissioner Gordon contacts Robin and tells him that King Faraday has been tryig to contact Batman. Knowing that Batman is not currently in Gotham, Robin and Catwoman answer the summons to Shanghai, China. Once there, Faraday tells the two that his old partner, Archer Templeton, recently sent a radio signal as agreed upon ten years ago. But all that arrived with the transmitter was an empty raft with the word "Batman" scrawled on it. Since Batman could not be contacted, Faraday opted to try for Robin.

Faraday, Robin and Catwoman go to meet an informant, who is killed by an assassin that escapes. When Faraday is kidnapped, Catwoman decides to get some information from the local criminals and she takes Robin with her in disguise. In her civilain identity, Selina and his "partner" meet Chin Ho, a fence and dope smuggler knowledgeable about all Far Eastern crime. While in his shop, Ho tries to drug them unconscious, but only Robin falls for the trap. Selina tries to fight back, but she is outnumbered and easily defeated.

Moments later, Selina and Dick awaken to find themselves strapped to slabs. Chin Ho informs them that he will now have revenge on Catwoman for her past interference with his smuggling operations. He orders his aides to inject them with cocaine until they die of an overdose.

Batman awakens in a strange room on Infinity Island and is soon attacked by a horde of men, who seem strangely possessed. Unconscious again, the Dark Knight is dragged to another room where he is shown the two classes of lives on the island. A strange voice then offers Batman the option to either become one of his loyal followers or suffer as a slave in the mines. The voice also tells the Dark Knight it has been he who was behind the dealings of Gregorian Falstaff in Gotham City concerning Wayne Enterprises.

Meanwhile in Hong Kong, Catwoman and Robin escape from the clutches of Chin Ho and free a captured King Faraday. Later, the trio follow Faraday's lead and find themselves in a boat on the Indian Ocean, where they are captured by red energy globes and transported to the mines of Infinity Island.

Batman, seeing Robin, Faraday, and Catwoman in the mines becomes enraged and refuses the mysterious voice's entreaty to join him. Dumped with the other three heroes, Batman leads an escape from the mines and they, in turn, head toward the Golden Dome at the center of the island. Inside the dome, the quartet encounters Talia, who has begun to age uncontrollably. Talia states she must join with the mysterious voice as only he can halt the aging process she is experiencing. While Talia joins with the mastermind, Batman and the others have to confront several of the mutates that control the island.

A minute later, Talia emerges from behind a curtain, young again, hand in hand with her supposedly deceased father, Ra's al Ghul. Ra's then offers Batman the “touch of immortality” or instant death for himself and his friends.

Batman accepts Ra's al Ghul's invitation to join his ranks and receive the gift of immortality, much to the surprise of Robin, Catwoman, and King Faraday. As the trio of heroes is escorted to the mines, the Dark Knight is shown Ra's Lazarus Pit, where Batman refuses Ra's "touch of immortality". Ra's sets his mutates on Batman and, under sheer weight of numbers, the Dark Knight goes down.

Knowing Batman's agreement to join Ra's was a trick; Robin spearheads an escape from the mines with Catwoman and Faraday. Through directions given by a remorseful Talia, the trio arrive in time to help prevent Batman from being turned into one of the mindless mutates. As the quartet confronts Ra's, Dr. Saltzer arrives unexpectedly and shoots Talia. Angered, Ra's lashes out and kills Saltzer. Then, seeing no other option, the Demon's Head places his daughter in the Lazarus Pit to revive her.

After the short procedure, Talia is removed from the Pit, but when her first words after coming out of the pit are for the Batman and not her father, Ra's feels betrayed and again a confrontation ensues. The Dark Knight instructs the trio of heroes to round up the others on the island and leave as he and Ra's have a final battle above the Lazarus Pit.

The confrontation is long and even, until Batman is forced to dump Ra's into the pit to save himself. However, the demon arises aflame and insane from the pit. In his new state of mind and body, Ra's has the upper hand in the fight and as a last resort, Batman knocks Ra's into the pit again, this time igniting the pit and causing the twin island volcanoes to erupt; an eruption that pushes Infinity Island beneath the ocean. Batman is only able to escape barely thanks to Talia, who was waiting outside for him with a helicopter. On their journey back home, Batman gives in to exhaustion and passes out.

Days later in the penthouse above the Wayne Foundation, a recovering Bruce Wayne is being watched over by Dick and Alfred. After saying his farewells to Talia, Bruce is left to ponder the feelings Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle seem to have for one another. And finally, after lots of arguing about Dick leaving college, Bruce and his ward declare a temporary truce.

From DC Wikia

As far as Ra’s al Ghul stories go, this one is not trying too much to be different. Most of their encounters require a trap (usually through Talia), making Batman do the demon’s deed, eventually an offer and a duel. Ending with Ra’s death.

While it is sad that this seems to be the case with one of the best comic-book wirters of all time, Comic-book writers are usually inspired by books they read. We are like ten years apart from Ra’s first appearance, and you have to remember, comic-book shops were not what they are now. So re-telling stories was in a way acceptable.

Re-reviewing this story I completely forgot what happened to Archer Templeton, which is odd as this story started with him. I imagine he was rescued by Faraday.

Wolfman was writing these issues at the same time he was writing the first issues of New Teen Titans (and you may have already caught the easter egg in the form of H.I.V.E.). His portrayal of Robin here is also strange. But my guess is that Dick Grayson is better when he is not around Batman. And we can understand him. Batman leaves him in the dark most of the times and can never acknowledge his feelings. So, even though we know Dick Grayson is one of the most mentally stable Robins out there (next to Tim), it is my guess that working next to Batman added an extra anxiety that made him less effective. Under these parameters I would have left the Batcave as well. Furthermore, Robin couldn’t be more different than Batman. While Batman has to be convinced to have company, Robin is not afraid to ask other for help (and he usually needs it, come on Dick, did you really have to drink that drugged tea?).

Another small detail almost by the end, Batman is about to die and pretty much throws Ra’s to his death. Now, I know it was self-defense, but it felt like he killed him. Even worse, he had to do it twice. So Batman doesn’t kill, but he doesn’t really disagrees with killing someone that wants to kill him (and actually can).

Or perhaps he already knew the “Ra’s al Ghul story formula” and that he would eventually come back.

I give the arc a score of 7.25.

[paradoxi-kay]

Interesting theory but if the Slates wanted to keep Mikoto alive why were they trying to kill him?

okay look you didn’t really ask for this but I’m just going to TL;DR at you anyway because I’m in a Mood rn and desperately want the excuse to talk about this

First of all, I’m working under the assumption that the Dresden Slate is capable of decision-making on some level. It’s “alive” in some sense, or it possesses some kind of artificial or magical intelligence, or maybe it’s really just a big rock but aura itself is an intelligent force. Whatever the details are, I’m assuming that Kings and Strains are chosen and not just picked entirely at random.

Secondly I haven’t been keeping close tabs on K since season 2 ended so I’m way behind on the novels and other non-anime canon, so someone yell at me if anything I say here is contradicted by canon.

I don’t think the Slate was trying to kill Mikoto. Red represents destruction; it is inherently more volatile than the other colors, and it quite literally burns through Kings - remember, there were three Red Kings before the Slate’s destruction, and that’s more turnover than we see with any other color. 

We know that being a King in general is an immense burden, but no other Kings have lost control of their powers to the same extent as Mikoto and Kagutsu Genji. Munakata, and Habari Jin, came close... because of how strongly they were affected by Mikoto and Kagutsu’s deaths. They were burned by Red too.

If Red aura is inherently more taxing than the other colors, the only way to prevent it from taking that heavy toll on its Kings would be not to pick Red Kings at all. But whatever mysterious criteria the Slate uses don’t seem to allow for that. There have to be seven Kings. There has to be a Red King. 

But the Slate does seem to protect Kings to some degree. Multiple Kings have awakened to their powers in situations that would otherwise have been fatal - in fact, the entire system as we know it started when Weismann was granted Silver’s power of immortality, protecting him from dying alongside his sister. 

There’s a difference, I think, between actively trying to kill someone, and giving them a power that will almost certainly kill them... though I’m not sure Kagutsu, Mikoro, or Anna appreciated that technicality. The Slate might not have been able to prevent Red from burning its Kings alive, but it did seem to protect Kings from death by other means. (Not flawlessly - only the Silver King was ever truly immortal - but it’s certainly a lot harder for a King to die than for your average human!)

So if the Slate tries to shield Kings against accidents... it would make sense for it to shield Mikoto in a fight he had no intention of winning. To protect him if he overindulged in alcohol or other substances. To interfere if, say, a car were about to hit him. To foil his attempts, whether or not it was aware that Mikoto was making deliberate attempts on his life. 

Maybe Mikoto could have found a way around that. But I don’t think he was ever so committed to dying as to invest all his energy into finding a way to trick the Slate into letting go of him. It’s more like... he sure would have liked to die. Maybe he sought out situations that should have killed him, or impulsively did things that should have been fatal. But he never actively made suicide a goal. It was more... a wish, I guess. Or a hope. 

Letting his Red burn through him, knowing that Munakata would have no choice to act - he did that intentionally. But it was a passive act. He didn’t have to try to let his powers overwhelm him. All he had to do was not try very hard to stop them. And that wish, that hope, became something - someone - just within his reach.

I refuse to believe that letting Munakata kill him was Mikoto’s first choice. To me, it seemed much more like a last resort. Their relationship was complicated at best, but Mikoto never wanted to hurt Munakata like that; he just ran out of other options.

[foruneyti]

Pt. I Greetings. This is all Foruneyti-centric but I hope it is helpful in general. —EA

Hithere! Thank you so much for sending me such a detailed report haha,it really helps me out! Because it was such a lot I will respond persection. I hope you don’t mind!

Pt.2 Somethings that I like in your writing: >Your dialogue. It iswonderful and truly witty at times, and it flows so naturally. It isa joy to read. I wish I could converse in real life the way Healerdoes in the story. So many writers resort to blatant awkwardness inconversation to move a relationship or friendship along; instead, youmake your characters clever and intelligent enough to get out ofunusual places in conversation. I appreciate that so, so much.I’m really glad that this is the case! I love writingdialogue and I’ve come a long way since I started writing (whenever Iread my older stories the dialogue is something that stands out to menegatively) so hearing from other people that it is witty and flowsnaturally is absolutely wonderful; thank you. Pt.3 >Your descriptions: in general, your descriptions are a goodbalance between “telling” and “showing”, which like yourdialogue make the story flow quite well. >Your originalcharacters. They are actually characters, unpredictable in some ways,not merely mouthpieces for ideas or story exposition (Kari of Yllgardis a great example here). Meeting them and getting to know thembetter feels worthwhile, rather than distracting.It’sa relief that those things are also going well! I really aim to givemy characters more layers so that they won’t be one-dimensional andboring, but with so many characters in the casts it’s hard to keep itbalanced and sometimes I even forget one or two exist hihi. Pt.4 >Perhaps first and foremost, I love that Healer is her ownperson, with useful skills and the ability to be simultaneouslycompassionate and an independent thinker. She does not brook abuse(of anoyone else or of herself) mildly; she is morally centred andstands up for her moral beliefs (I would like to add here that(Pt. 5) I think it would be appropriate for the deaths Loki hascaused to trouble her more than it does; I understand her reasons forforgiving Loki himself, but to some extent I would expect Healer’snatural compassion to extend to the many, many families Loki hasdestroyed). Though she is lonely at times, she is not just a hollowshell waiting for some other person to fill her with emotions andexperiences.This is also a big part of what I wanted! ThatHealer would be a character of her own, with feelings and thoughtsand memories of her own, and that without Loki she would still grow –though their growth is definitely amplified by one another. I wantedher to be independent so that their love and relationship could growand blossom healthily. As for the deaths Loki caused, it’s truethat I am kind of letting it fade to the background. I wanted tofocus more on the person Loki was becoming than the person he hadbeen, and since I believe he was not fully in control or didn’t havemuch of a choice during most of what happened back then I didn’t wantto make too big of a deal of it. Now that Healer has to grieve forher own she wouldn’t have the energy to grieve for the many livesthat were lost years and years ago.

Pt6 or 7? Somethings that I do not like in your writing (save the firstcomment, I am trying to be usefully critical here):>The sex. I amnot here for that; honestly I just think it is gross. It is nothingagainst your writing particularly; I just do not enjoy that sort ofthing in stories, ever. When I found Foruneyti, I was looking for aninteresting story that explored a Loki redemption arc in a believableway; many kudos to you for drawing me in despite the sex.Itotally understand! I personally enjoy sex as well as writing aboutit and so for me it is part of a healthy relationship, which is why Iadded it to the fic. You can expect more to come. I’m glad that youstill enjoyed the rest of the chapters though! Sometimesyou do strange things with grammar tenses. For instance, the lastsentence of the fifth chapter of the most recent instalment of “InHer Loving Memory” goes, “The man rose his sword, and sheclosed her eyes.”I am fairly confident that “rose” is anintransitive verb, and “raised” is what you should use whensomething is actually being done with a specific object. Pleaseunderstand that this little nitpicky sort of thing is an indirectcompliment; the rest of your writing (dialogue, descriptions, etc.)is so well-balanced that it is little things like this that throw meoff. Ah!I’m incredibly sorry for that. I can’t really use the excuse of notbeing a native English speaker anymore, but sometimes things likethat still slip. Things like raise and rise, lay and lie; but alsothings that even I think are super silly. I often type reigns insteadof reins, or mix up expressions. I check chapters three to sixtimes before uploading them and I still stuff like that when Ire-read it later. Feel free to point it all out on a chapter when yousee it, so I can immediately change it. Pt7 or 8? >Very occasionally you claim that something clever happensand then you drop the ball. The scene in chapter 14 is a goodexample. The passage goes:“…Should you try to introduce him tothe conversation? Ask him if he had ever experienced such battles?You listened intently to what they had to say, but every question youasked steered the conversation(Pt8 or 9?) in the direction you wanted to go. It was masterfullyexecuted manipulation, and neither of them noticed, until theopportunity came for which you had been waiting and you turned yourheard to the side, glancing at the prince from the corner of youreye. “How about you, then? Surely you must have great tales totell.” …That is abrupt and jarring, not masterfully manipulative.I think this is a more serious mistake where you should have changedthe scene so that it was appropriate(Pt9 or 10?) for the Healer to be so abrupt, or else thought through thescene more thoroughly to give Healer something truly clever to say.Another example would be when Healer tricks Yllva into confessing tothe murder. That seemed unrealistically stupid, even for a spoiledprincess of evil.Ihope you don’t mind that I will defend myself on this one. The lines’Youlistened intently to what they had to say, but every question youasked steered the conversation in the direction you wanted to go. Itwas masterfully executed manipulation, and neither of them noticed,untilthe opportunity came for which you had been waiting (…).” Aremeant to convey that time passed, that she has been conversing forquite some time, asking more and more questions that subtly got herto the point she wanted: a break or pause in the conversation thatallowed her to drag Loki into it. In that break or pause it wasappropriate to ask Loki about his tales without making it seem likeshe didn’t care about the other soldier’s stories. If I had to writeout all the stories the soldiers told, and all the questions Healerasked, it would have made the chapter far too long and far too slow.As for the part where she tricks Ylva, keep in mind that thegirl is not the smartest. She tried to murder Healer with poison sostrong it would no doubt cost quite a lot of money. That way it wouldbe traced back to her sooner or later, and with a devastated andenraged Loki (as well as Thor and all the other soldiers in thegroup) in that scenario she wouldn’t have benefited from it at all –and the consequences would have been dire. When she noticesHealer doesn’t die she gets more reckless and directly poisons herfood. She could have done it herself, in which case people (mainlyservants) would have seen her going to the kitchens where shedefinitely never comes, or, more likely: she had a servant do it forher. That means at least one servant knows its her, and so when thestaff would get questioned by the at that point merciless Loki itwould come out sooner or later as well. Either way: dumb. So,now that we’ve established that Ylva is not very bright, she is inthat moment set on defending herself however possible. When she heardHealer semi-accuse her of something she hadn’t done she had to denyit to try and save her hide – and she hadn’t really thought aboutthe words with which she chose to do so. In her panic she blurted outthe first that came to mind and so fell right into the trap. Ofcourse, it’s fanfiction, and so I’ve taken a few liberties on howrealistic things are, but in my opinion it makes for a far moreinteresting story than when the investigation starts and it takesthem two more chapters to just confirm what we already know: the girlhad truly tried to murder Healer. Ona final note, not concerning anything critical: I would just like toadd that as an addition to the Foruneyti universe “In Her LovingMemory” works incredibly well. What an emotionally powerfultale. (Lastpart) I read the scenes at the tree (Healer’s and Loki’s) and wasstruck by the aching sadness in both. I look forward to seeing whereyou go with that tale. May your writing (for Foruneyti and elsewhere)proceed excellently. Sincerely, EA

Thankyou so much! I really hoped it would, and emotionally powerful was(and is still) the goal. For it to affect your feelings is all Icould have wished for.  

Again,thank you for leaving such extensive feedback. If you want to discuss anything I’ve said in this post just send in another ask, I really love talking about my work. For anyone elsereading this post: do you agree, disagree, or do you have somethingto add? Feel free to respond to this post or to send me an ask ofyour own! (anonymous if you want). The more opinions I get the easierit will be for me to see what things I will need to focus on more! ❤

[sparda3g]

Tokyo Ghoul:re Chapter 173 Review

The grand finale has arrived. Well, at least that’s what I’m going by considering this has the last battle vibe written all over it. Not necessarily the final one since we got other pieces left to cover but considering how this is the end of :re, it only leaves a new part to explore. With that said since the very beginning, it all comes down to this faithful moment. If this is indeed the finale, it’s no wonder Ishida is going all out in an incredible fashion.

This chapter is mostly action-packed, though not without a few insights on the characters. Furuta’s past is shown briefly but it holds a lot of weights. It’s good to see Arima again albeit in a flashback, but there is a sign that the backstory behind Washuu and the Sunlit Garden could be explored deeper in the future. With V and Washuu’s reveal slowly coming out of the dark and a theory for the next part to be largely about  them, its chance increases.

The flashback helps to prepare the prowess of Furuta in terms of combat skills. While it’s not a secret that he’s really strong, Arima’s praise is a good insert to increase the expectation. One of the most interesting part is how Furuta was seen at the early day. According to Arima, he takes it after his mother, loved by others. Ironic considering how much he has fallen into abyss of insanity. Tsuneyoshi actually adored him, which is odd because didn’t Furuta interpret that he didn’t care for him? Was Furuta lying or as time passed, it became true by the end? Perhaps a flashback to the moment of Furuta and others killing him would shed a light.

What’s also interesting is how the metaphor line in the end of the flashback holds a significant value that practically reveal Furuta’s agenda. Not as a whole, but part of the motivation that drove him to this path. It reads that despite Furuta’s promises, his ceiling is set as in destination end, because he’s part of Washuu. Half-Human are destined to die young, so it’s no wonder Furuta fits perfect with V since they got the cure they wanted from Dragon. More importantly, Furuta most likely went out of his way to show that his limit is like many: the sky. It’s an intriguing single page that had me compelled and interested.

Once that is taken care of, the rest is action-packed brawl and it’s as intense as I was hoping for. It’s hard to cover the battle without resorting to a play-by-play commentary. Of course this is a review of a series’ chapter that fans would have read already, so you can see it for yourself. I can pinpoint on why it has been fantastic so far; possibly the best fight of the series to date.

One of the strong elements of it is how it reminisce to the old days of combat in which captures the emotions and thrills of two men going all in for the win. For example, when Furuta aimed for the neck to decapitate, Kaneki reacted with deep pain, clenching to embrace it. I always adore how the series captures the realistic expressions, describing how painful they’re in.

Not only that, but they also expressing their character very closely. Furuta portrays like a serial killer or The Joker as Kaneki portrays like the white knight. It also helps with the illustrations of their outlook. I like to think they are similar yet different on their path, when you consider the first page that evaluates the thought of their similarities. It’s the first time you’ll see Furuta more than just a goofy guy; he is hell-bent to kill him. Kaneki expresses more of culmination of everything he is, especially that scene which we will get to that.

Another strong element is the panel work. Each moment grasp your attention of their movement and slowly succumb to fear for what could happen next. The way how the last panel leading to the next page left me tensed, expecting the worst outcome; whether Kaneki takes the stab to the face or dodges the fatal blow. It goes back to how expressive they are, so the pain is believable, discarding the thought of tyrant taking anything without reaction.

Lastly, many of its panel has strong impacting feel to them, which also credited the artwork. When Kaneki takes out a sword from his Kagune, I marked out like a complete fanboy. It reminds me of the old days with Sasaki, so seeing this was a crowd pleaser. The mouth grabbing the sword was an awesome moment. The look of his face shows the psychotic side of him, which reinforces the idea of his being to be the embodiment of all himself. The strikes, the twists and turns, and the delivery are greatly impactful.

The choreograph is one of the best of the series so far, especially how those two is all about giving everything they got; no more holding back or joking around. It all comes down to their skills with no luck or power-up; all bets are off. I love the fact they mixed their combat of human and ghoul style, which brought the best of two worlds vibe. It’s also easy to follow, at least to me it was, so I can grasp the intensity at its finest.

It has a video game’s epic boss battle vibe to it. Furuta started off with his sword only; once he gets hurt, he steps into the next phase: sword and Kagune. His Kagune looks vicious as hell with those eyes. Ishida continues to do impressive work on capturing the horrifying display. Kaneki gets wrecked badly, but that biting scene shows how much energy he has left in the tank. Damn, that moment is seriously crazy. Only badass can obtain that ability.

The action does go to a halt by the end, only for Kaneki to deliver a really nice speech that perfectly describe his development. The standing pose in one panel oozes a sheer willpower; something he lacked a long time ago. It’s funny since it is something you would hear many times in other series; however, it’s because of his background that evaluated his words into a powerful one.

I like the fact he acknowledges all of his faults and how he has been nothing but a toy for Furuta, which is sadly true. I recalled Kaneki to be overly confident, hence his loss against Suzuya off-panel, so this is a great step-up. Admitting faults can make you a better fighter. His will to fight is genuine rather than coming off just saying it. I also recalled him believing that despite wanting to bring peace, he didn’t really mean it; like he has no intention to make it happen. This time, he really wants to do what he said because he has a sense of purpose. He wants to defeat Furuta and protect everyone, human and ghoul. No more being told by others, this is all him.

It’s wonderful to see him come this far. It’s a simple purpose, but the weight behind it made it a heavy one. The double page at the end is great; nothing but incredibly hype for the next. Kaneki is in that form, assumingly his new Kakuja, when he saved Urie and Saiko from the monsters. It’s like an angel or butterfly, however you like to see him as. All it matters is he is about to go all out and the end for Furuta is near.

The artwork is great. The choreograph is very solid and capture point of its impact is at a high point. The expressions of the two delivers the intensity and magnitude of the damage they received. The pacing is fluid with each moment is captivating with mixed combat with new tricks. As said before, the display of their Kagune at its best form look great.

This was a hell of a chapter. There were interesting moments such as displaying Furuta’s backstory and Kaneki’s newly form character after amount of developments. The action was top-notch with great visual. There were plenty of picture perfect moment that I would love to see it colored. It’s all around enticing and the cliffhanger promises for more intensity that is likely to be the end. It’s going to be a carnage.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

I'VE BEEN PONDERING PEOPLE

Dilution is a hard problem. I don't think they'd do much differently if they were merely hiring people. And yet when I was growing up.1 Jessica more than anyone made YC unique, the very qualities that enabled her to do things that ordinary companies don't, like raising money and getting incorporated are an O 1 pain in the ass, whether you're big or small, and others like selling and promotion depend more on energy and imagination than any kind of special training. But within three days we loved it, and he was right. When you want to keep in close touch as you develop it further. If you have impressive resumes, just flash them on the screen for 15 seconds and say a few words.2 If you don't believe your startup has such promise that you'd be doing them a favor by letting them invest, why are you investing your time in it?3 It's pretty clear now that the broken windows theory famous, and the only reason you need them is to make credentials harder to hack, we can also make them matter less. I count them as false positives because I hadn't been deleting them as spams before.

Angels don't like publicity. A sharp impact would make them unavailable to the people who think they don't need to: it lets them choose their growth rate is, sometimes they tell me we get about a hundred new customers a month. There isn't so much at stake in his interactions with other investors, his relationship with the founder is only going to last a couple years, whereas his relationship with other firms will last his whole career.4 For startups, growth is a constraint much like truth. Whatever its flaws, the writing you find online is authentic. If they stepped back and looked at the whole picture they might be less indignant.5 But startups often raise money even when they are or could be profitable. Seem confident. I think the problem with politics too. Probably the most important thing we do at Y Combinator. Most founders have such low standards that they'll feel rich with a sum that doesn't seem huge to investors. So one advantage of forbidding meanness is that it isn't succinct enough.6

As this new kind of venture fund that invests smaller amounts at lower valuations, but promises to either close or say no very quickly. They're as expert in their world as you are in yours. Apparently Kleiner and Sequoia with a $75 million premoney valuation, their reaction was probably Ouch! And they may be right. Disasters are normal in a startup, you're probably going to have to think of something. They know they'll have to deal with these guys was in high school. If a post has a linkbait title, editors sometimes rephrase it to be more readable than a line of Basic is likely to be more matter-of-fact. Why spend twenty years climbing the corporate ladder when you can get rewarded directly by the market?7 Focusing on hitting a growth rate reduces the otherwise bewilderingly multifarious problem of starting a startup into trouble.

A recruiter at a big company, these qualities must have been very valuable. For example, many of the stories about Jeremy Jaynes's conviction say that he was a fairly big spammer. If someone proves a new theorem, it takes some work by the reader to decide whether or not to upvote it. If you write software to teach Tibetan to Hungarians, you won't be selling the company for 20. The reason I warn startups not to get their hopes up is not to describe everything your system might one day become, but simply to convince investors there will be a lot simpler. A rapidly growing company is valuable. That was an unusual problem to have in 1975. It shows no sign of slowing. We decided we ought to give priority to the ones that occur a lot.

As a rule, any url sent to millions of people in America, have some amount of funding to get started painting that ten minutes of rearranging feels very long. The other kind of spams I currently do have trouble with. That has always seemed to me full of random stuff. The whole tone is bogus. But they might as well flip a coin. But working on this is not my first priority, it's unlikely to happen at all. Always have some alternative plan for getting started if any given investor says no. They're hard to filter based just on the content because the headers are innocent and they're careful about the words they use. Everyone buys this story that PG started YC and his wife just kind of helped.8

I thought I'd already been cured of caring about that.9 So in borderline cases, and reports that it works well.10 6x.11 And they may be right. Every successful startup is at least partly a product of the imagination of man, he meant that if you just keep following the truth wherever it leads rather than being influenced by what he wishes were the case.12 If you're going to start with something that doesn't do much, you better improve it fast.13 Maybe there is some important trend afoot.

Notes

For example, would be possible to have to give up legal protections and rely on cold calls and introductions.

Like us, the average employee. There's nothing specifically white about such matters. No central goverment would put its two best universities in the same price as the cause. The philistines have now missed the video boat entirely.

It is a bit dishonest, incidentally; it's not uncommon for startups. Or demolished to be younger initially we encouraged undergrads to apply, and why it's such a low valuation, that probably doesn't make A more powerful sororities at your school, because the rich. By all means crack down on these. This is, because you couldn't do the same reason I did the section of the infrastructure that this had since been exceeded by actors buying their startups.

But I know one very smooth founder who read a new version sanitized for your present valuation is the discrepancy between government receipts as a cause.

It's interesting to 10,000 computers attached to the customer: you post a sign saying this cupboard must be kept empty.

It's much easier to make money from mediocre investors. We could have used another algorithm and everything I say in principle get us up to 20x, since that was more rebellion which can happen in any case, because a she is very common for the talk to mediocre ones. Most computer/software startups. Though in fact had its own.

The reason Y Combinator certainly never asks what classes you took in college.

The Duty of Genius, Penguin, 1991. Possible exception: It's hard for us. It tipped from being overshadowed by Microsoft, would increase the size of the next year or two, and mostly in Perl, and this trick merely forces you to stop, but it is to get good grades in them, maybe 50% to 100% more, and I don't think these are, but countless other startups, so we also give any startup that wants to invest in your startup.

If Ron Conway, for example I've deliberately avoided saying whether the program is no. Since they don't have to do is fund medical research labs; commercializing whatever new discoveries the boffins throw off is as straightforward as building a new version of Word 13. Usually people skirt that issue with some equivocation implying that you're talking to you; you're too early for us!

This argument seems to have to resort to in order to switch the operating system.

Cit. So you can base brand on anything with it, but it wasn't. The angels had convertible debt is a convertible note with no valuation cap at all.

That would be reluctant to start a startup. Robert Morris wrote the editor written in C and Perl. Why Are We Getting a Divorce? Perhaps realizing this will be out of their professional code segregate themselves from the conventional wisdom on the ability to predict at the final whistle, the less powerful language by writing an interpreter for the same, but most neighborhoods successfully resisted them.

It's hard to judge for yourself and that the word content and tried for a small amount, or how to do better, because she liked the outdoors, was starting an outdoor portal. The first alone yields someone flighty. There should probably start from the success of their times.

[the-truest-sentence-i-know]

Chapter Twenty | Protest

Fandom: Disney’s Descendants

Summary: Quinn Little, raised in Auradon by Little John, finds out that her heritage is not what she thought it was. When Little John tells her that her real father was a villain, she must go on a journey of self-discovery that will bring her to all the forbidden places in the United States of Auradon.

Pre-canon & canon compliant to the first Descendants film.

Word Count: 2.3k  |  20/23

ao3 ||| ff.net ||| wattpad ||| quotev

Dad had never pushed Quinn on what happened while she was gone. Everything she had told him and had been when she was ready to.

But one evening, when they were sitting on the back porch, he saw her pull a dagger from under her clothing and fiddle with it absentmindedly.

“Do you carry that everywhere?” he asked, his tone light but Quinn could hear the concern.

She did carry it everywhere – hidden under her clothes or stuck in her boot. She shrugged. “Old habits die hard, I guess.” The truth was that she did not quite feel safe without some kind of weapon on her. She knew it was silly – no one was going to attack her; she did not have to worry about the Innocents or the Queens or even Maleficent over here. And yet... she felt the prickle of someone watching her and immediately prepared herself for a fight. But she did not want to tell Dad about that. He was worried enough about her as it was.

He watched her closely and then looked back out at the dark forest. “When King Richard returned from the Crusades and took back his throne, I thought everything could go back to normal. Robin got his land back, the rest of us got handsome rewards. But we had been living in Sherwood Forest for years by that time, always ready for a fight, knowing that at any given moment, we could be attacked.” He looked back at her. “That fear doesn’t disappear overnight, Quinn. It sticks around, in the back of your mind, in the muscle memory and reflexes that you needed over there. In the old habits –” He gestured at her dagger. “– that you just can’t seem to break.”

Quinn smiled a little and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Does it ever go away? Will I eventually feel completely safe again?”

She did not see it, but there was pain in his eyes at her words. She was too young to be asking questions like that, he thought. But of course, there were younger children than her on the Isle who had experienced the same and more than her. He held Quinn tight to him. “Maybe not entirely, but it shrinks to a manageable size. And reflexes like those aren’t all bad. They can come in handy. Remember that time Alex Dale lost his balance during target practice and nearly shot Mark?”

“Uncle Robin had an arrow notched in a split second and shot the arrow out of the air,” Quinn remembered. “One of the best trick shots I’ve ever seen.”

“He would not have been able to do that had he not been Robin Hood of the Merry Men,” Dad said.

Quinn nodded and they looked out at the forest again.

•••

Resistance to the campaign had picked up after the press conference. Posters were torn down faster than they could put them up. The coverage of their campaign was overwhelmingly negative and Quinn was starting to see how far ‘goodness’ really went.

A week later, they organized a demonstration outside the palace, hoping to get the attention of the king and queen.

When the guards saw them all marching towards the gates, they tensed and looked around in concern. The head guard stepped forward and approached Quinn.

“What are you doing?” he asked gruffly.

“Staging a peaceful protest,” Quinn said calmly. “As is our right.”

“It is your right to bother the king and queen while they work?” he asked.

Quinn frowned. “It is our right to criticize our leaders and voice that criticism through demonstration.”

The guard looked at her, then at the crowd behind her, holding signs. “Don’t cause any trouble,” hie said finally and headed back to his post.

Quinn turned back and smiled. “Let’s go,” she said.

Somebody had brought a megaphone and passed it to Quinn, while someone else pressed a paper into her hand. On it was various chants they had come up with. As they spread out in front of the castle, she led them in the chants, like “All the kids on the Isle / Didn’t get a fair trial” and “If a dream is a wish that your heart makes / Then I dream of King Beast fixing his mistakes.” She felt a thrill when they roared the words back at her.

When she grew tired, she passed the megaphone on to Cory, who took up the chant. She melted into the crowd and shouted with them. The feeling was indescribable. The energy and adrenaline made her heart pound hard in her chest. Her whole being felt warm and full, standing shoulder to shoulder with people who agreed with her, with whom she belonged, fighting for all the kids of the Isle. It was a sense of belonging that reminded her of the Crew, and for a moment, she stilled herself and looked up at the clear blue sky. This one’s for you, Harper, she thought.

After about half an hour, she was pulled back to the front and handed the megaphone again. “Something rousing,” Mark said to her, before pulling away, leaving her alone in the semicircle of space she stood in.

Quinn looked out at the crowd and felt that rush, that righteous anger, build up in her chest. “We are here today to fight for the rights of those who cannot fight for themselves!” The crowd cheered. “The children of the Isle were set up to fail! They were born to villains on an island rife with crime, poverty, and abuse. They did nothing wrong! They are being punished for their parents’ crimes!” They roared their approval.

Mark caught her eye and gestured for her to turn around and pointed at the palace. Quinn turned to face the gilded gates. “King Beast, Queen Belle, I now speak directly to you. I don’t know if you can hear me, but I hope you can!” She took a breath. “How can you sit in your palace and claim to be ruling your people fairly, when children are suffering at your hands? The hardships that the children of the Isle endure are all because of policies you put in place! What did you think was going to happen to them? They had no chance to choose a different path from their parents. You set them up to fail, your majesty! Do you even care?” She was so caught up that she did not realize the guards were approaching until one grabbed her shoulder. Quinn jumped and nearly punched him in the jaw out of instinct.

“I think that’s enough,” said the head guard. “Time to break it up.”

“We’re barely been here an hour,” said Quinn indignantly. “And we have the right to be here.”

“You’re causing a disruption,” he said. “Go home before you cause a scene.”

“Causing a scene is kind of the point,” Quinn snapped.

Out of the corner of her eye, Quinn saw a tv camera, with Snow White reporting. The guards were glancing over at her apprehensively as well.

She pulled her arm out of the guard’s grip and shouted into the megaphone, “Tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme! Imprisoning children for no crime! Innocent kids doing time!” The crowd, who had started shuffling nervously at the advance of the guards, quickly took up the chant.

“Alright,” grunted the guard, trying to grab at the megaphone, but Quinn danced out of the way, repeating the chant.

The crowd chanted along, but guards were starting to try and break them up. Quinn continued to dodge the guard but knew that she could only avoid them for so long without resorting to violence – and that was the last thing she needed. So she turned back to the palace to say one last thing. “Your whole thing, King Beast, is the power of second chances, so why don’t you –”

The megaphone was ripped from her grasp as a pair of strong arms pulled her arms behind her back. Quinn thought she saw a curtain in one of the high windows move like someone had just let it close. Like someone had been watching. She felt a bit of stubborn satisfaction; somebody had heard them, so maybe the king and queen had too.

“I think that’s enough,” said the voice of the guard behind her.

Quinn struggled a bit. “Am I under arrest, sir? If so, for what crime?”

“Disrupting the peace,” he said. “Unreasonable criticism of the king and encouraging a rebellion against the king.”

“First of all, that second thing isn’t illegal, secondly, I was not encouraging rebellion, I am merely voicing my criticisms of the king’s decisions.”

As they led her away, Quinn saw that a lot of the others looked like they wanted to fight back. A few others were also being arrested. She caught Chloe’s eye and shook her head urgently.

Chloe quickly turned to the crowd. “Hey, remember, we are here to lead a non-violent protest! Let’s try not to give them the wrong idea here!”

Quinn found Mark’s face in the crowd and he looked at her in concern. She could almost hear him saying, “I didn’t mean that rousing.”

 Quinn was put in a separate holding cell from the others. It was squeaky clean in there and she laid on the cot, staring at the ceiling. She knew she should be concerned about this, but she was not. The adrenaline from the protest was still pumping through her veins. Maybe getting arrested was not the best image for the movement, but at least they had made a mark. There was no way anyone could not know about them now.

She dropped off to sleep for a little bit and when she woke, the rush was gone. In its absence, doubt crept in. Maybe this was a terrible mistake. Maybe no one would take them seriously now. Maybe righteous anger was not the emotion to go with.

 The next morning, Quinn and the few other protesters who were arrested, including Mark, were released. They were not going to be charged with anything but were given strict warnings.

Dad was there to pick them up. “Your father,” he said to Mark. “asked if you’d visit.”

“But we have so much work to do!” Quinn protested. “This is just the beginning.”

“If this is just the beginning, are you going to get yourself charged with something next time?” Dad’s tone was direct and strict, and he flinched when he heard himself. He sighed. “Let’s just go home for the weekend.”

“We’re fighting injustice, Dad,” Quinn said quietly, knowing she sounded like a petulant teenager. After living with next to no adult supervision on the Isle, she had to get used to it again.

“We should probably let everything cool down a bit anyway,” Mark said.

Quinn nodded. “You’re probably right.” Admitting when you’re wrong: another thing not encouraged on the Isle.

 Robin and Marian Hood met them at the train station, looking concerned but clearly trying not to look it.

“Hi, Uncle Robin, Aunt Marian,” Quinn said, uncomfortably, but they hugged her, just as they had Mark.

The ride back to Sherwood was rife with polite conversation – avoiding the protest. They talked about Will Scarlet’s new horse, the upcoming wedding of one of the Sherwood kids, and how the apple harvest seemed to be doing very well this year.

Finally, it was Marian who snapped. “Are you two alright?” she asked.

“We’re fine, Mom,” Mark reassured her. “We got roughed up a bit – but no worse for wear.”

“What actually happened?” Robin asked. “They’re making you all sound like crazy rioters on the news, but they’re not showing a lot of footage.”

Quinn thanked all the powers that were that she ended up in Sherwood. “We were peaceful – a bit loud maybe, but nothing more. I think we just questioned the king’s decisions a few too many times and the guards weren’t comfortable with that.”

Robin kept his eyes on the road but nodded understandingly. “I thought that might be the case.”

“But you definitely need to work on your optics,” Marian said. “Because even Sherwood people were hesitant to support you all after yesterday.”

Quinn and Mark shared a look. They had a long road ahead of them.

•••

Jax was starting to realize how helpless he was. It had been weeks since Quinn had left, and he had no idea what was happening. He had started to watch the news broadcasts from Auradon, but there was no sign of her.

“And should we be concerned about this campaign led by a girl from Sherwood?”

Jax’s head shot up and he caught a split-second shot of Quinn in front of a crown before it was cut, replaced by one of King Beast’s anti-evil PSAs that were shot specifically for the Isle and no one took seriously. “What the hell?”

He watched the news even more carefully after that and realized that the news coverage would sometimes, seemingly randomly, be interrupted, usually by the ridiculous PSAs, or by old footage from past broadcasts.

Finally, he decided to consult the little whiz kid of the Isle himself. Carlos was in his usual spot in the back of Jafar’s Bargain Shop, fiddling with wires.

“Hey, kid,” Jax said, sitting down next to him. “I was wondering if you could do me a favour.”

“Don’t you already owe me?” he asked, not looking up from his work.

“No, you owed Quinn, so we’re all even now.”

“What do you need?” He held out a hand. “Can you hand me the needlenose plyers?”

Jax did so. “Can you get the Auradon news broadcasts, not the ones they censor for the Isle?”

He was quiet for a moment. “Yeah, probably.” He looked over at Jax. “What’s in it for me?”

“Free passage in Crew territory,” Jax said. “You can come over, stay, whatever, whenever you want.” He had seen in Carlos what the saw in all the kids – the need to get out from under his mother’s thumb. Maybe he could give him that.

“Alright,” Carlos said. “That sounds like a deal.”