#And still has some unsavory tendencies like that (not something she holds onto out of real malice she just hasn't learned any better)

[deathinfeathers]

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[the-insomniac-emporium]

Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 5.5 Bonus

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for language Warnings: None Summary: Local feral human spends some time with their new family. Four short bits featuring Daphne (Maiden OC), Bela, Lady D, Daniela, and a surprise guest. Enjoy. Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring; 2: Bloodbath, Baby!, 3: Haunt Me Dearly, 4: Portraits For Ghosts, 5: Heart Of The Matter

5.5: Family

i.

“Wait, you’re telling me that you came here willingly?” You asked, mouth agape, eyes wide. It felt like every time you talked to Daphne she had something incredible to say. Which was, of course, why she was your favorite maiden to talk to. That, and the fact that she had adapted so quickly to your ‘charming personality’. So far she was the only servant you had been willing to be honest with. Mainly about your feelings regarding your blood bond, but also just about your relationship with Cassandra in general. Something about Daphne simply made her incredibly approachable. From what you had heard, you weren’t the only one to think as such, with her being fairly popular among the castle workers.

“More of us do than you might expect. Some consider it an honor to serve one of the four Lords, and Castle Dimitrescu is certainly… nicer than either the factory or the reservoir. Personally, I came here for a friend of mine. She, well, had less of a choice. I couldn’t bear the thought of her being here without knowing anyone, so it felt like I only had one option. Can’t say I regret my decision, if you can believe it,” Daphne explained, folding laundry all the while. At the same time, you carefully sort through the not yet washed clothing, separating them into two baskets. After all, you wouldn’t want Lady Dimitrescu to end up with a pink dress! Technically this wasn’t your job, nor did you have a job at all, but you hated having idle hands- especially when talking to someone who was working. At first Daphne had protested, but she had given in upon realizing just how stubborn you could be.

“That’s… impressive. I mean, holy shit, that's a real ride or die friendship right there. Is she, uh, is your friend still, you know, around?” You stuttered, cursing your tongue for asking such a thing. If the answer was no, you were going to feel like a real asshole. Which, admittedly, you had a tendency to be. But this wasn’t one of the times where it was intentional. Thankfully, Daphne is all smiles, and even seems amused by your spluttering.

“Yes, we’re even roommates. Well, us and five others. Possibly with a sixth one on the way, if we ever get someone to fill the empty space,” she replies, pausing to think. Then she’s back to work, refusing to waste any time. “Speaking of roommates… I know I said I’m not one for gossip, and I meant it, but a little songbird told me that Cassandra seems to be in a much better mood these days. Are the two of you, well, getting along? It would be nice to know that soulmates can overcome even the roughest of introductions.” There’s a hint of something odd in her tone, and you take a moment to wonder what she’s (unintentionally) hinting at. Had she met her soulmate, only for things to go poorly?... Before answering her, you make a mental note, deciding to see if any of the other maidens had a scar across their nose.

“It’s not like she and I are dating or anything. We’re just, you know, not hating each other. Currently,” you said, shrugging. But Daphne raises an eyebrow at you, and you find yourself instinctively feeling guilty, somehow feeling small next to the shortest person you knew. “Alright, alright, we might have… Okay we kissed. And promised each other not to die, because having your soulmate die hurts like hell. Also maybe she showed me her mom’s art collection and I made a joke about the titty sculptures because holy shit, this house has a lot of titties.” At this, Daphne bursts into laughter, grinning from ear to ear.

“Amen to that, for sure.”

ii.

“So… fan of science, I see,” you say, awkwardly, bouncing a little on your heels. Next to you is the eldest Dimitrescu daughter, who had unexpectedly joined your table in the library. There were several other places she could have sat, with both more comfortable seating and more workspace, but for some reason she had chosen here. So far she hadn’t said a word. Hell, you hadn’t spoken to her since your first meeting, where she had suggested killing you. Naturally, you weren’t quite sure what to make of her. Something told you that she felt much the same about yourself.

“Fan of oversimplification, I see,” Bela counters, after a few tense seconds. Then she sets down her book- a heavy text about Romanian avian fauna- to give you her full attention. “It would be more accurate to say that I enjoy studying biology, particularly the branch of zoology.” Well, this conversation was certainly… happening. Honestly, you couldn’t tell whether she was legitimately judging you, or merely chaffing you for her own amusement.

“You’ll have to, er, forgive me for being overly broad. Consider it a side effect of my nerves, those themselves being due to our unsavory introduction. In case you don’t recall, you put that sickle of yours into my shoulder,” you reminded, with a sarcastic smile. To your surprise, Bela chuckles at this, almost as if fondly remembering the incident. Seriously, you think, why did my soulmate have to be from this family?

“Staying silent was an option. Perhaps that would have suited you better?” Bela says, now clearly teasing, smile much more genuine than your own. Knowing she had a point, you’re quick to blush, mildly embarrassed.

“Touche. I am curious, however, why you decided to sit next to me in the first place. I certainly wouldn’t have tried starting a conversation if you hadn’t,” you explained.

“Like I said… I enjoy studying zoology,” Bela replies, with a sly grin. It takes you a few moments to understand the intended implications. Once you do, however, you’re giving her a hard stare. Then you scoot your chair a few inches away from her, in exaggerated movements. “Don’t worry, I was only joking. Though you certainly are an interesting human. Much more, hmm, cheeky? Compared to the servants, at least.”

“Somehow I get the feeling that they simply prefer being alive, as opposed to not being as snippy. Except maybe Daphne, now that I think about it. Very sweet, that one,” you muse. “Regardless, I think I’ll return to my book now, for it lacks a tongue, and is therefore less likely to taunt me.” Doing just as you had said, you open the book, holding it a bit higher than what would be comfortable, so that it becomes a ‘shield’ of sorts. Nothing was quite as satisfying as subtle body language.

Accepting your words with a shrug, Bela also resumes reading, turning to a bookmarked page. Roughly an hour of relative quiet passes. Neither of you so much as glance at each other, not even when she drops the pen she had been taking notes with. In the end, you are the one who leaves first, and finally the silence is broken. You give your goodbyes, and Bela returns them politely. Though you do not know it, she sets her book down as soon as you leave, pausing to think about you. Now that things had ‘calmed down’, it was reassuring for her to know that you weren’t always full of spite. Still, you held onto your cleverness (for the most part), leaving her with no doubt about the universe’s decision. You were her sister’s soulmate.

iii.

“It’s official: I’m lost in a creepy castle. The universe hates me. Probably should have realized that sooner, considering how it decided to introduce me to my soulmate,” you mutter, scowling deeply, as you wander unfamiliar halls. How had you even gotten lost? Sure, you had taken a wrong turn, but it hadn’t taken long for you to realize your mistake! Evidently you somehow managed to make another one while backtracking. Now you were standing in the center of the corridor, hands on your hips, desperate for some maiden to come rescue you. What you really didn’t want was Cassandra to find you, because she’d make fun of you for the rest of your life. It’s not like she had specifically joked about you getting lost before. Except that was exactly what had happened.

A few minutes pass uneventfully. There aren’t even any distant sounds of life; no footsteps, nor echoing voices, nor the squeaking of floorboards. All you can hear is your own breathing. As well as the occasional sigh, admittedly. By this point, there’s a part of you that’s starting to panic. After all, there was a chance that the castle was big enough for certain sections to be abandoned. Hopefully that’s not the case, you think, I mean, they’d cut the power to those parts, right? Here’s hoping… With that in mind, you get back to wandering, figuring that you’d have to eventually run into a familiar landmark. Or better yet, someone who actually knew the castle’s layout.

When salvation at last reveals its holy visage, it is not in the form of a lowly servant, rather the muffled voice of none other than Lady Dimitrescu herself. Neither her exact words nor who she’s speaking to is clear. At first, you can’t even tell where her voice is coming from, but you quickly approach one closed door, then another, searching for the source. Several doors later you’re certain you’ve found her. By then you can tell that she’s not alone. Not wanting to seem rude by interrupting, you take a few steps back, leaning against the wall to wait. For the most part you still cannot make out what’s being said, but a few words do reach your ears.

“-expected more from you. How am I-” the voice gets cut off, not by Alcina, rather a sudden gust of air, akin to massive wings flapping. When the speaker continues, they are both louder and angrier. “Someone is listening. Have you not taken steps to ensure our privacy?” Then the door is swinging open, revealing your soulmate’s mother. At first she’s practically shaking with rage, but her expression turns to shock when she sees you.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Cassandra?” Lady Dimitrescu asks, clearly stressed, as she steps into the corridor. There’s movement behind her, although you cannot make out any details. Besides, you’re quick to answer her, wishing to avoid her wrath (and that of whoever she was speaking to).

“I’m so sorry, Lady Dimitrescu, I was walking from the dining hall to Cassandra’s studio, and I took a wrong turn. I’ve been wandering for half an hour now. When I heard your voice, I thought perhaps I could, well, enlist your assistance. But you were busy, so I figured I’d wait outside. If I had-...” you pause, gulping, as the other figure steps into view. It’s a face you’re all too familiar with. One that popped up countless times through the village, and again throughout the castle, the owner’s name always spoken with acclaim, with worship. Mother Miranda, in the flesh, wings spreading out behind her, somehow cutting a more impressive silhouette than even Lady Dimitrescu. Instantly you’re falling to your knees, knowing that your sharp tongue was no match for this practical goddess.

“Who is this, Dimitrescu? Why isn’t their blood staining your claws?” Miranda questions, gaze never leaving your trembling form.

“This… this is one of my daughters’ soulmates. They were brought in with the last group of sacrifices,” Lady Dimitrescu explains, uncharacteristically hesitant. ‘Twas a true testament to Miranda’s power, as well as her influence, that she could make someone so powerful seem so weak. Which was exactly why you were shaking with anxiety. But to your surprise, the goddess does not immediately order your execution for your trespass.

“And already they know their place, hmm? Kneeling before me?” Miranda says, a strange smile dancing on her lips. Whatever anger she had been feeling a minute prior had faded, though you couldn’t even begin to guess as to why. Regardless, both Alcina and yourself are quite relieved, though neither of you are quick to show it. “Either they have a good head on their shoulders, or you still take care of some of your duties. Very well, they may live. For now. But I expect next week’s report to be far more favorable. I don’t need to remind you of the price for failing me.” With that said, Mother Miranda turned to leave, a swirling mass of dark feathers flying past you.

A minute passes, maybe two, before either of you feel capable of speaking up.

“Let’s get you back where you belong, yes?” Lady Dimitrescu says, quietly, before placing her hand on your shoulder to guide you. Tension hangs clear and heavy over both of you. Even as you walk down corridor after corridor, the feeling does not ease. At least not until you’re back in familiar territory, near where you had originally made your mistake, finally able to breathe a little. It’s here that Lady Dimitrescu pauses to speak once more. “Tomorrow I will assign one of the servants to give you a tour, in the hopes that this does not happen again. Furthermore, I ask that you forget everything you heard earlier, for it is neither your business… or my daughter’s.” You’re quick to nod, and with that she bids you farewell, leaving you alone. Now, you think, was it left from here, or right?

iv.

“I’m just going for a walk. Why do you care so much? It’s not like it’s any of your business,” Daniela assures you, despite the fact that all you had done was say ‘hello’. If this was her attempt at casting aside suspicion, she had done a terrible job of it. What made her so nervous? Was it even worth investigating? Only one way to find out.

“You’re rather bundled up, planning on being out for long?” You ask, trying to sound casual, leaning against the wall as you did. In response, Daniela pretty much stomps her foot. There’s something odd in her expression, however, that implies your question hit a soft spot. Certainly wasn’t what you had expected. “Don’t mind me, just trying to make conversation with my soulmate’s sister. Speaking of her… have you seen Cassandra? Is she, perhaps, going with you?” A little misdirection never hurt anyone. Probably.

“No!” Daniela replies, fast as a gunshot, too much emphasis to be unintentional. But she realizes her mistake as soon as she’s made it, and makes a clear effort to relax herself. “She’s probably in her studio, doing whatever it is she calls art, on the other end of the house. Besides, I don’t want any company for this walk.” For a moment you merely squint at her, unsure of how to proceed. In the end, you decide that it really is none of your business, being more than satisfied by what teasing you’ve already done.

“Alright, alright. Well then, I’ll leave you be. Just… be careful, yeah? If you get hurt, and your mother finds out that I didn’t stop you from going… not sure Cassandra could save me,” you say, with a shrug. At first Daniela can’t decide whether to be upset or relieved, but she seemingly settles for the latter, giving you a brief nod before heading outside. As the door shut behind her, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had done the right thing.

[ksbwnotes]

Chapter 9, Part 1

Ahhhh...poor son of a bitch.

1. Heyyyyy, green tape

Hmmmn, Koogi seems to use green a lot...is that just more common a color for duct tape in Korea? But thing is, her main outfit for Bum is green tones. And he likes froggies, which are green. 

Also, we never do see Sangwoo use this tape with CEO daughter girl (just ropes, a cloth for her mouth, and this weird metal thing to cover her eyes). Or with Bum, for that matter (I only saw it so far used with Koogi’s illustrations, which are a different matter altogether...I might be mistaken, I won’t skip to that part, but Sangwoo might have used it on Bum in the last chapters, which could signify how far his mentality has deteriorated). 

But this guy is different. Sangwoo has no emotional attachment to him.  The duct tape could be, in a way, signifying how worthless this person is to Sangwoo. That he’s nothing more than a box full of unsavory memories he would rather tape shut forever and throw away to rot.

2. Ooohp. Bastard’s bringing out his iconic apron

Sangwoo the butcher.

But this is something new that we haven’t seen before. Again, Sangwoo has never once wore this with Bum. So that means Sangwoo truly has no intentions of going easy on this guy. Blood is going to be pretty much spurting every-the-fuck-where. 

So even though Sangwoo doesn’t consciously plan to kill someone, he has his habits and ideas down to a pat so that once he does get into that territory, he can more or less get right down to it. Sangwoo seems to do what he can to ‘separate’ himself from his atrocious acts, but also fulfilling an ‘aesthetic’ that fits with the atrocity he has become. 

Like, that apron.  Too risky to wear regular clothes, so apron is the next best thing and can act as a barrier of some sort once the blood goes flying. It’ll reduce how much splatters onto his skin and how much of his body he has to actually clean. It’s also just keep things less gross and more sanitary that way lol.

3. I am the type to find this funny and really be amused by Sangwoo’s smartass-ness

I suck at being a smartass and I can’t do it, so I really appreciate it whenever someone else can, even if it’s mean lol. But if it’s mean, it’s a guilty pleasure for me, like right now. x’D

4. Honestly, Sangwoo, how did you get yourself into this situation...

Oh!  So he was able to get out of the blow job. Nice. The guy was actually respectful. If Sangwoo were sane, he’d understand this and just run away instead of luring this guy in to kill him. 

But, really, why did Sangwoo put himself into this position?  I don’t have anything foolproof as evidence, but I really don’t think Sangwoo is the type who actually needs to kill at specific intervals as an outlet.

If anything, Sangwoo has a more...instinctual response to sexual situations, like Bum. For Bum, he becomes hyper-aroused and zeroes in on the pleasure to a point that it overrides his more logical line of thinking. The “he’s a killer I should be scared” becomes “it feels so good and nothing else can exist but this pleasure”.

For Sangwoo, he has two modes. The first one is passive, where he’s just following his partner’s whims and saying that he’s enjoying things but he’s actually just powerless to resist. It’s his instinctual reaction after being forced to just...take his mom’s advances. He feels empty, like a doll that is just meant to be used and taken for pleasure. It’s no better than being a corpse that is fulfilling another’s necrophilic tendencies.

The second mode, I believe, came to be as a self-defense mechanism to the first mode. In order to avoid ever feeling like that, he is in control of everything. He has complete dominance over his partner. In a way, the extreme violence is the only way he can genuinely feel pleasure because he’s ‘safe’. He can literally go one way or the other, his trauma has made it impossible for him to have any other mode than ‘docile’ or ‘predator’. 

5. Well, even without the possibility of murdering someone, Sangwoo choosing an alias is no surprise

He did go into a gay bar, lol.

I also find it interesting that this is where we get a look into Bum’s thoughts. And it’s regarding Sangwoo’s alias. 

Also, now I am wondering if Sangwoo ever resorted to using aliases with his other prey. Because if he had, then this does add a whole other layer of premeditation to his serial killing. Even if he’s not purposefully scouting for prey, it would at least mean he’s always prepared in the event that he comes across prey. 

That is what makes Jieun such an outlier and also Sangwoo’s downfall in terms of getting caught. Jieun knows Sangwoo personally. There is a connection between them. And her disappearance could easily be traced back to him. Sangwoo isn’t an idiot. He knows how to pick and choose his prey and he probably makes sure to never make it so that the prey can call him by name. 

That is also what makes Bum such an interesting outlier. Because Sangwoo is risking A LOT just to keep him--someone who knows Sangwoo’s real name and actually has witnessed his personal life, both in the outside world and behind closed doors. Sangwoo chose him over the girl. Sangwoo broke his legs, not only to keep Bum from escaping, but to keep Bum with him. 

This does suggest that Sangwoo is not serial killing for the thrill of it (at least, not just for that), but because he’s in search for something that could replace the kills. Sangwoo doesn’t want a pile of dead bodies under his feet--he wants one alive body to stay by his side and love him, in spite of those dead bodies. 

6. ....cute motherfucker

Koogi, I resent you so much for making him this cute...

Honestly though, it just strikes me how Sangwoo keeps trying to keep on a carefree and happy facade even during times like these. We do later see him doing that as a habit as a child, so it fits that he does that on steroids during his adult years, especially considering the things he does. I’ll refer back to this when we get to Jieun’s death scene.

7. Shows of weakness

Ah damn I’m going to have to revisit this part. I have a lot of thoughts on it, but I’m too sleep deprived to actually make sense of it. But this part is important in understanding Sangwoo’s mentality and the ways he tries to train Bum to fit a certain image.

Aaaaaand today is a new day!!  So going forth:

During the times Bum showed fear and was trembling, I do think a major part of why Sangwoo hates it so much is because it reminds him of how much of a monster he is. But I also think it’s because it reminds him of his mom, which he does say about Bum’s trembling. Because no matter what happened to his mom, she never learned her lesson. If she were able to change, then Sangwoo’s childhood would be less painful. 

But Bum being quiet and looking scared, but still able to meet Sangwoo’s eyes...that reminds Sangwoo of what he was while with his parents. And even though Sangwoo does hate himself--to a point where he doesn’t want to change because he has no belief he can be better--I do think he’s grieving for that child who had no clue that things will just get worse and worse from there. 

Especially since, from what I’m assuming, he knew how to manipulate his image so that he could avoid being beaten and locked up like his mother. So he would hold more respect towards his conditioned response versus his mother’s conditioned response. He probably refused to admit to himself how he felt back then, because obviously that’s a cruel thought to have and Sangwoo’s level of empathy was still average to high at the time. But it still doesn’t erase his resentment towards her inability to be better (I think this also contributed to why Sangwoo presumably felt ‘free’ after his first kill).

I think I’ll have a better grasp over my thoughts once we get to Jieun’s death >_< 

8. *opens mouth, then silently closes it*

That first sentence probably is not meant to sound the way Sangwoo makes it sound. xD  Which is a bit too gay for someone who firmly claims he is wholly hetero.

Oh actually this is funny. Since the only other person in the basement is a guy, the card dude probably thinks Sangwoo really is gay or internalized-antigay or something. But the truth is a lot more complex and sinister than what it appears to be on the surface.

9. Ooooooh, high stakes indeed

Lol, this does drive home the idea to me that Sangwoo is really pissed at Bum. Because, again, he would’ve never went to that gay bar had it not been for Bum. So, in a way, even though Sangwoo internally knows Bum isn’t the one going out in a body bag, this instillation of fear is a punishment for making him question his sexuality in a way that triggered Sangwoo’s trauma. Because there is literally no safe way for Sangwoo to explore his sexuality considering his past and his current lifestyle.

On the other end of the spectrum, I wonder how Bum is feeling about this. He probably genuinely believes that Sangwoo is genuinely putting Bum’s life on the line, in a way that if he fails the card game, he’ll die. Like. I definitely would. No matter what past form of affection Sangwoo showed, if he says he’ll kill me, I would full-heartedly be like “Yeah. Yeah, I don’t doubt you, hun.”

And, still, Bum knows better now than to complain or beg. Because unlike his mother, despite his own mental issues, Bum can be trained and that is why Sangwoo keeps him around.

10. Where do you come up with these things, you bastard

I mean, seriously, he has so many ideas on how to break a person. These are more psychopathic than sociopathic tendencies, I think, so that’s why Sangwoo right now, is a high-functioning sociopath.

11. Oh my fkkn god tho, this smart boi XD

Or maybe I’m just dumb and have no clue how to play cards. 

Or maybe Sangwoo has been spending time with Bum playing cards.

Or maybe Bum is just good at cards and has spent his time practicing them.

Either way, the fact that Bum is able to fkkn pay attention during these times shows that his own trauma and mental issues have no bearing on how smart he actually is. He doesn’t have strong observation skills and is slow to understand people, but that’s more of a natural character trait, even if it is more emphasized by his mental disorders...mmmn, I do kinda wonder if Bum could have some traits shared with autism but I’m too neruotypical and untrained to say whether or not he does.

12. No seriously, we have creative Sangwoo here with this card game from hell...

...Then we have Bum here able to pull out logical conclusions like his mind is clear despite the immense anxiety and pressure of the situation. There’s a reason why Bum is still alive. For some reason, the longer Bum is stuck in his situation, the more 

13. Seriously, I could stab him in the eye for being so cute despite being revolting, it’s not RIGHT KOOGI

Stab stab stab stab

14. It probably doesn’t mean much, but I still can’t help but point out how Sangwoo is making sure to be close to Card!dude and facing Bum

This would be the most logical choice since it will ensure his victim doesn’t try to escape. And even if he does, he can quickly do shit like pulling back his hair if he tries to be ‘bratty’. Also, being behind someone like this is meant to represent a menacing appearance and being the ‘controller’ behind the scenes. Sangwoo has the upperhand since card!dude can’t see him and Sangwoo can do whatever he wants to the guy. 

But this also puts Sangwoo and Bum on more equal ground. Sort of like “partners in crime” because they can face each other and communicate via body language. In a way, Sangwoo can help Bum or make Bum do things, influencing his next move. While, at the same time, keeping a literal eye on Bum but without the upperhand he has on card!dude--because Bum can also keep an eye out on him. 

15. I’d probably laugh if I were Sangwoo too lol

I bet you Sangwoo didn’t expect Bum to actually get the goddamn ace. The fact that Bum is this fkkn lucky is indicative of how Bum is lucky enough to even be alive at this point. Bum has been able to avoid his ‘fate of death’ over and over again that, honestly, the sheer disbelief of it is ridiculous. But it’s also like Sangwoo is saying ‘Of course you’d get the goddamn ace. Of course you would, you little shit, why am I even still surprised by you at this point’.

In a way, Sangwoo might also be thinking that ‘Huh, it’s like I meant to mess with the cards so that’d they be in your favor.’ But of course, he can’t have that because Bum being ‘too’ happy about things means he won’t be able to control Bum. So, for Bum’s case, he’s doing a second round to train Bum further, rather than to fuck with him before he kills him (like what he’s doing with card!dude).

Other than that, this is also indicative of just how well Bum is dealing with the anxiety of this moment. Card!dude might have done better (though he can’t have that much control over the cards) under normal circumstances, but between the both of them, Bum is actually calm enough to think things through. It says a lot about his capabilities lol. It makes me wonder what kind of person he could’ve been had he been raised well.

ALSO, AGAIN WITH YOU BEING CUTE SANGWOO. NO. ESPECIALLY NOT UNDER THESE CIRCUMSTANCES YOU ASSHOLE. STOP IT.

16. Lol, even though this is a throwaway line, I think this is indicative of who Sangwoo has already chosen

This is really like a “come on, partner in crime, get up to my level here and let’s fuck with this fucker together”. But the thing is, Bum is just as much a victim as this guy. There is literally no way for Bum to think any other way but Sangwoo fucking with both of them, not just card!dude. 

Because the thing is, if Bum forgot himself and reacted the same way as card!dude, Sangwoo would kill him, along with card!dude.

But yeah, it does make me think of how Sangwoo would’ve reacted if card!dude actually won. How would his script go? Would he still do a practice round? Or would that have been enough for Sangwoo, and he would’ve skipped to the next part of his plan?

I don’t think this second round was something Sangwoo expected. And that really drove home to him how Bum keeps surpassing his expectations again and again. 

17. *wince* Oohp.

The trembling and slight protest. Definitely not what Sangwoo wants to see. I can’t blame Bum for responding like this, BECAUSE A FKKN SERIAL KILLER IS PRETTY MUCH TRYING TO SCREW HIM OVER, but at the same time, he should know better than to respond this way. 

I also do think, other than the threat to his life, Bum is perceiving this as Sangwoo ‘choosing’ card!dude over Bum. It’s like a rejection and that probably hits Bum’s rejection sensitivity. If it was just a threat to his life, Bum would probably be able to still stay silent at this point (uh, most likely not because again, life is on the line, but still maybe). However, there’s also this sense that Sangwoo doesn’t actually want him to live--that the card game is just an excuse to kill Bum.

18.  think it says a lot that Sangwoo still responds to Bum’s protest via ‘patting’ him on the head rather than pulling on his hair. 

If card!dude was more intuitive, then he probably would’ve noticed that something was off in the way Sangwoo was treating Bum. More leniently. Because any small variation in treatment is not a promising outlook for card!dude.

But the thing is--now that I know how the ending is--Sangwoo is just doing this as a way to fuck with the other dude.  Actually he was probably proud of Bum winning so that he could further fuck with card!dude and make him taste the bitterness of false hope. Sort of like a “heh, you did better than I thought you would”. 

Sangwoo does want him to live because this card game is not about ‘who’ to choose. Sangwoo has already chosen Bum. This is just a matter of how much satisfaction Sangwoo can get against his revenge on the other guy.

Though, Bum is genuinely worried because why would he think that lol. There is also this thing where Sangwoo chose to kill a pretty girl and keep him, a skinny male loser, alive. So from his stand point, Sangwoo’s choices are difficult to pinpoint. Bum also won’t see himself as more ‘attractive’ than card!dude, so he most likely was scared that Sangwoo’s choices has changed once again and he would be thrown away like CEO daughter.

19. Hmmmn...

Now that card!dude has been given a second chance and can see Sangwoo’s willingness as a show of ‘favorability’, he has more control over his anxiety (which I do think is different from Bum, who has this sort of ‘on-off’ button for his anxiety, versus card!dude who seems to have more of a ‘reduction-enlargement’ slider). He probably feels more confident. 

And this is probably exactly what Sangwoo wanted, because then that will make the fall so much sweeter, the look of horror that much more gratifying.

20. Really, and there were people who wanted Sangwoo and Bum to have a happily ever after

The psychological warfare Sangwoo is putting onto Bum is so brutal that it’s really difficult to keep reading. Again, Koogi making it so that Sangwoo got better, then got worse when he realized he couldn’t handle what it means to ‘improve’, and then die...it made me respect this work so much, because nothing about this is romanticized.  And furthermore, Bum didn’t die, but at the same time, he was scars that will never be able to heal. His mentality was worse in the end than it was in the beginning, which is a goddamn feat because there wasn’t much left for him to fall.

Another alternative that I saw float around was Bum and Sangwoo dying together and...no. No no no. That’s too romanticized as well. And Bum being left alive while Sangwoo dies has this very...god I don’t even know how to explain. It’s not a happy ending. For me, there’s no vindication for it because I got to see just how deeply Sangwoo was suffering, which made it impossible for me to enjoy his death despite every incredibly shitty thing he has done. It was literally just...a masterpiece. One that showed just how, really, there are places on earth that truly have no hope and the suffering only ends with death. 

I usually never like nihilistic stories like these. Like seriously, there’s a reason why I avoided Killing Stalking like the plague. But after so many stories where things have a happy ending just because they MUST, it doesn’t only get tiring, but destructive for me. 

And Killing Stalking is special to me because instead of showing that everything was hopeless in the beginning just BECAUSE life is hopeless, period...it shows that things could’ve gone differently because Sangwoo and Bum were never truly without hope in the beginning. Sangwoo wasn’t a classic serial killer. Bum just needed better guidance. They just needed to be given a goddamn chance, like so many people in the world in general.

Instead of outright nihilism, it’s more in line with existentialism and that things reach the point of no return if nothing is changed. Or that if there are changes, it’s the type of change that makes things worse and doesn’t allow for healing.

Anyways, I don’t quite have all my thoughts on this together, so this is something I have to revisit once I’m done reading KS.

[kitsoa]

A Case In Stubborn Belief

I don’t feel like I’ve reassessed my theories properly since things started going to hell in khux. The benefit to this torturous slog of releases is it allows me to adjust my mindset and theories in real time so as to have a healthy theorist mindset. In other words I use the time between releases to justify my theories and dig my heels in. Hahaaa-- so like, let me preface this by saying that there is plenty of reason to hold onto seemingly jossed theories and evidence because...

1.) Multiple things can be correct at the same time. 

2.) Red herrings are frequently employed. 

Now. I have, in the past summed up my thoughts in this 3-prong Theory for Khux post which is a little dated but subscribes to three ideas.

The Master of Masters is the Author of Fate

Ava is the Traitor 

Ven harbors a split personality.

And while recent events have definitely had me going to the drawing board. I still kinda believe in all three ideas. Let’s work this out. 

Ven as the Murderer

In my original Split-Personality Theory, I proposed that the Darkness within Ven was suppressed to the point that it gained sentience and acted with a will of its own. As Re:mind supports, Vanitas refers to existing long before their split. 

The primary take away was, regardless of who did the dirty deed of killing Strelitzia, Ventus was innocent because he lacked agency. This is still true. 

Now, it seemed as though this theory was disproven in last months flashback of the murder. Ven is clearly coerced by this physical shadowy Darkness to go to the scene of the crime, from which the Darkness strikes Strel down, orders Ven to pick up the Leader Book aaaand physically takes on the appearance of Ava. 

All interactions with this force suggested that Darkness was an external force simply using Ven as a pawn in the scene. Darkness had to order Ven to pick up the book. Darkness manifested separate to Ven. This isn’t something coming from within Ven, it’s simply grabbing hold of him. 

But then we have to consider the entire context of the scene. Ven was planted in the Leader position by Darkness. Darkness set it up so there was some foundation of legitimacy with Ava being seen with him. It was orchestrated specifically for Ven’s benefit... but to what end? Ven’s a pawn sure, but if the goal is getting a hold of a Union Leader, an external force of Darkness shouldn’t have to go through a very risky murder plot to make room. If the goal is to sow discord among the Leaders then killing someone close and framing one of them is all you need to do. If the goal is BOTH then why Ven? His presumable innocence? Is he just convenient scape goat?

This is where I think this months update comes into play. Darkness, spawns from Ven. Darkness has been hiding inside Ven. Ven is the Trojan Horse. While Ven blames himself for the death of Strel, he asserts that “It’s not me”. Darkness isn’t Ven. But that could be wishful thinking on his part...

That Darkness, no matter how external it behaves, is Ven’s. While not behaving like a split personality in the conventional way, the force is essentially Ven’s darkness given autonomy and sentience while still bound to his heart. That Darkness becomes Vanitas. Same idea different manner of arrival.

Is Darkness Legion?

“You’re finally aware, of us.”

In line with this speculation, this line could be referring to Darkness and Ven in the plural. Vanitas was very fixated on Ven and himself being the same being. I don’t see why Darkness can’t have that same attachment.

But if he’s NOT referring to himself I guess I have to talk about my Author of Fate theory.

This line would then suggest that Darkness is most likely one of those monsters in human form MoM was talking about wayyyy back in Cornerstones of Rebirth. In my Figurative Language post, I use MoM’s potential as a disillusioned author of the entire KH reality as a means to interpret his words more figuratively. 

“Well, if you ask if the darkness they fought was comprised of monsters… maybe so. They looked the same as us, so it’s a bit different from now.”

In my interpretation these beings of Darkness were a summation of the darkness of human nature causing endless conflict. It was MoM’s way of explaining that he is who he is because he’s tired of senseless evil. This is where I think 2 things can be correct at the same time. Darkness can be a manifestation of a pure force of evil similar to the heartless AND be a figurative reflection of MoM’s perspective on humanity. After all, the theory postulates that MoM created everything. It’s a reflection of that “Real Evil” creeping into things.  So is this force which I believe born from Ven a part of some kind of new race of Darkness? Yes and No. Yes because I think MoM’s interpreting a realistic evil through the creatures of the series. Whatever impulses formed Darkness inside Ven, is the same tendencies that MoM witnessed in his youth. No-- because the Darkness by virtue of being in this reality gain a form of autonomy that I don’t think MoM’s story is actually depicting. Literal Monsters in human skin basically detach humanity from the consequences of Evil. And while that’s not the case in reality, Mom’s interpretation paved a way for that to be the case in KH cause he’s the author. 

Got really meta there. In my speculation, MoM is coping with the helplessness of reality. Poor guy. 2020 sucks.

What about Ava?

That’s the question isn’t it? Most of my Ava speculation is based on her behavior leading up to the end of Khx. The suggestions from that line of thought haven’t changed. I mean, nothings really modified the implications of Ava clashing with Luxu and starting the first war. If we take into account that MoM manipulated the Foretellers into their own destruction and Ava potentially discovered this, then her actions would make sense. Even with recent developments we know that Ava took action to defy MoM’s plan by changing who received the BoP. Ava is the Traitor. 

So she is actively trying to circumvent this written fate... and all she succeeded in doing was swapping around a book? Yeah, that’s not enough. 

My original theory speculates that Ava is trying to sabotage the entire Data-Daybreak town because it’s a part of MoM’s plan. And while Luxu’s Secret Report in KH3 has wording that suggest that the Data-Daybreak Town is destined to never have the Keyblade War, meaning that the manner needed to sabotage that is to.... cause the Keyblade War. So the way to ‘save’ her Dandelion’s from being MoM’s play things is to trigger the Keyblade War that they wanted to avoid, all so that she can attempt to remove them from MoM’s clutches (I further speculate this is because she doesn’t understand the extent of MoMs ownership over fate and therefore thinks its possible to defy fate enough to escape him).

So this puts her in the perfect motive to do whatever she can to make sure shit hits the fan and war breaks out. It’s an ironic little reversal cause once again Ava is becoming MoM in order to ‘stop’ MoM and she is really the fool here. This desperation might have her joining forces with some unsavory forces and pushing for some... drastic measures (like permitting murder!). It’s all for the greater good of course and she needs to free them from being in MoM’s creation. 

This is why I still think, Ava is a benefactor/ accomplice to Darkness. I think she ultimately gave it access to the Dandelion ranks and orchestrated a deal that would ensure the escape of some Dandelions (through the Arc business with Maleficent) while also the assured destruction of the Data-Worlds that imprisoned them. This is because of the Darkness’s actions with Maleficent and paving a way out of the Data World which seems counterintuitive to the actions of Darkness through Ven, sowing discord and killing little sisters. Sure there could be more than one with more than one agenda but this can come together if you’re stubborn enough. So yeah. Ava is still in cohorts with Darkness. I really want her to be a well intentioned extremist don’t I? 

---

Anyway. I am not so deluded that I can’t accept my theory being wrong. It’s okay. I’m not like... seriously hung up about it. But, not only do I think these 3 ideas are just insanely compelling, I DO believe that everything is a monthly slow confirmation here. One week seems to destroy an idea and the next resuscitates it. It’s incredible how they don’t just drop every plot twist at once. As someone trying to write a compelling mystery in my KH fic, I am impressed with how this has stretched out over years. 

I’ll let you know when I’ve really given up. Until then, I’ll just start digging my plot on this hill. Read my theory master list while I do that.

[ambroseshaw]

🌙 — ALL ABOARD ! The HMS PROMETHEAN welcomes ( AMBROSE SHAW ) to the expedition in their capacity of ( THE MARKED ). They are ( FORTY YEARS OLD & CISMALE ) and might be painted as ( ZACH MCGOWAN ). When you strike up an acquaintance, address them as ( HE/HIM ). Their deeds on land precede their arrival — people say they are ( COMPELLING, CUNNING, and STEEL-WILLED ) but ( VAINGLORIOUS, RECLUSIVE, DISTRUSTFUL ) when the tide turns. Their purpose aboard the Promethean falls in line with ( ESCAPING THE SINS OF HIS PAST — BY ANY MEANS ).

HISTORY

I. Ambrose and his younger brother are born to a woman who has fallen from grace -- Elizabeth Shaw is by no means remarkable, but she used to be something, and from what Ambrose can remember of her, she always despaired over what she could have been. Her family was quick to turn their gaze when they discover she’s been leading a married man on an affair that has ended in a swelling at her belly and no ring on her finger. She’d been no older than eighteen when the cast her out, and just like that, any mention of her was struck from the books. She pleaded with her lover to show the kindness he’d promised with gentle words in her ear, but he was too poor to even entertain the thought of ruining his own bit of kingdom to try and maintain her own. Ambrose is born not long after Elizabeth Shaw has found her place in a brothel in the slums. It is here that he grows up, an ugly and unremarkable child, running secrets back and forth from room to room in exchange for the skill to read and write. His mother does not so much as acknowledge him, or William, for that matter.

II. He doesn’t know who does it, never bothered to ask, but when Elizabeth dies -- he is twelve, then, and William is nine -- someone comes to get her. That someone is a cousin by the name of Cunningham, distant but wealthy, who’d been close to Elizabeth. Older, yes, but close. He’d been searching for her a long time, he explains to her boys, who look so much like their mother it’s almost astonishing. Cunningham takes them both under his wing and sweeps them out of the slums of London without so much as a second thought. Ambrose doesn’t trust him, and the first year is... difficult. They know their letters, but neither of them are educated, and both brothers drag their heels in the dirt trying to hold onto the rowdy beasts that have taken root in their chests. It is not until Ambrose discovers his love of history that he truly settles, and the difference is like day and night. Cunningham plies Ambrose with historical texts and novels, and in exchange, Ambrose makes the effort to learn how to be charistmatic and good and pristine. Few know about his mother, and when Ambrose meets his uncles, his aunts, his grandparents, their scarcely mention her. It is terrifying, really, how easily people are wiped from existence, just that fast.

III. Cunningham buys him his education, and from that education stems advancement. Ambrose learns, grows, works, writes, becomes a professor first of Roman history, Egyptian history soon to follow, and with every piece he publishes or collaborates on, his fame only increases. At twenty-seven he is offered an observational position on an expedition to old Roman ruins in an effort to unearth hidden treasures, and he accepts without so much as a second thought. William accompanies him for these first few journeys, although his younger brother discovers he does not quite have the taste for it. Ambrose, on the other hand, is ravenous. Forget writing; he’d much rather dig as far his own two hands will take him. The expedition returns successfully, and the pieces of old art and sword pommels are hung up in a museum, displayed for and lauded by the wealthy. Ambrose develops an appetite. He funds and embarks on another expedition, this time to the Valley of the Kings, and does not return empty-handed. He is soon sponsored by the British Archaeological Association, and archaeology becomes his life. He returns to London after every trip with some sort of piece or tale, develops a reputation as an adventurer. The airy and stiff-backed Shaws of old are buried by Ambrose Shaw: charming, handsome, daring Adventurer of the world.

IV. The glory days are by far the best. His renown grows insurmountable, the height of mountains. Most turn their gaze from his more unsavory qualities -- his temper, his ever-present status as a bachelor, his sharp tongue and tendency to remark on ugly qualities in others -- in favor of the gleaming, the gold. The stories he tells, the shape of his frame, what he gives away, the parties he hosts. For each successful expedition it is nearly a guarantee that Ambrose Shaw will return and provide nectar of the gods alongside decent entertainment, and worse still, he’s good at that too. No one can touch him, even when he wants to, and he’d like to keep it that way. Over the years William appears on his doorstep, pleads with him to give it a rest (you’ll run yourself into the ground, Ambrose), but Ambrose ignores him in favor of emeralds in the tombs of dead queens and kings, blades polished until they’re silver anew. He doesn’t even attend Cunningham’s funeral, when the old man dies -- he’s on his second world tour by that time, and there’s not much point in turning a ship around for a dead man without much to him, is there?

V. It should be obvious by now that a fall always accompanies pride, and with Ambrose, his fall takes the shape of a dog-headed sculpture, painted all black, with eyes that shine like rubies in spite of the fact it lacks gems. Tucking it away without thought had been foolish, and putting it on display is worse, but it is put up in a glass case and he lays his head down on the pillow without nary a thought to his deeds. And then the restlessness comes. At first, it’s subtle. Sleep avoids him. He takes to long night walks. And then his body aches. He’s not old, necessarily, but the pains which plague him cannot be soothed even by the strongest of opium. He takes to keeping his hair down -- pulling it back reveals the strands easily pulled from his skull. And then what can only be described as moments of madness. He is always awoken from slumber by the hot breath of a hound on his face, gleaming white teeth in the dark, pink tongue lolling, its claws digging into his chest. It trails after him, from room to room, building to building, place to place. He shuts himself up in his apartments, stops hosting guests and holding parties, but becoming a glorified recluse only makes it worse. This hellhound is an awful fact of life, and in his ear it whispers every mistake he’s made, every foolish thing he’s ever said, every missed opportunity for glory. It haunts him, 

PLOT POINTS

I’M THE BEAST / RATTLING THE CAGE, ASKING FOR SLAUGHTER. Why would an archeologist go to a place devoid of history? And ah, there’s the rub. Why would a man who’s dedicated his entire life to keeping his head bowed towards the dirt, always digging, suddenly see fit to turn his gaze towards the sky? Rebirth, renewal, repentance. I’d love to explore (through his relationships with other characters and his developing relationship with himself) the parallels between the man Ambrose so obviously was with the man he is now.

Can others see the corpse he’s unwillingly dragging behind him? Can they see through the flecks of gold as easily as he can to the dirt underneath? I’m sure it shines through, every once in a while. He’s not always unpleasant to be around, even if he more or less shambles around like a dead man walking. I’d like to see if there’s something underneath the horror he’s encased himself in, or if the charismatic and charming Ambrose Shaw is well-and-truly-dead. He feels like a beast walking in human skin, otherworldly in his not-so-subtle bouts of madness, like he cannot control his own body in a way that means anything. Do others see this, and if so, do they confront it, or do they turn their heads?

I SEEM TO BE BUSY TEARING DOWN WHAT I WAS.  I’d love for Ambrose to meet with others who have never heard of him. I know that sounds a little silly, but he craves a world in which he has not shared every piece of himself, a world in which there is no Ambrose Shaw, the archeologist of great renown, and instead… Ambrose Shaw, the man. Relationships of any kind — antagonistic, friendly, romantic — they all feel beyond him now, and I can see him clinging to any person who might see him for what he is beyond his reputation, might go so far as to say they’ll be the only ones keeping him even remotely sane.

On the flip side of this, I’d love for Ambrose to interact with characters who have similar burdens. Sometimes the truths of guilt and grief aren’t genuinely opened to you until you’ve shared them with others, and up until now, he’s found himself silenced, biting down on his own tongue.

WHAT YOU CAN’T GIVE AWAY YOU MUST CARRY WITH YOU. I think that Ambrose almost certainly has lessons he could impart upon less-experienced crewmen and guests, with stars in their eyes and metal in their mouths, searching for a taste of adventure. It might be why some of them boarded The Promethean in the first place. The unfortunate reality is that Ambrose wholly believes the adventure he once adored to be something ugly, beast-like, a journey which warps and changes you beyond recognition.

I’d like to see him impart some of his stories and lessons upon those willing to listen to what he has to say; he used to love hosting, after all, even if now he hates it when someone so much as breathes the same air as he. It might take some time, some thawing of the ice in his middle, but I think he’d share eventually.

TO FEEL ANYTHING DERANGES YOU. What does Ambrose see on the back of his lids, when he closes his eyes? Is it a place, a person, a beast, a being? There’s no doubt in my mind that the further along The Promethean’s journey extends, the deeper Ambrose is going to sink into despair, and until he finds a place he cannot dig into with his two bare hands, he will be haunted. He’d boarded the ship in an effort to run from his ghosts, only to discover they'd trailed after him, nipping at his heels like a great black dog. He is unsure of his end, and if he’s to meet it sooner rather than later, but I’d like to explore his willingness to meet it. Would he accept death, if it meant escaping what shows itself to him in his sleep, even if it meant hellfire?

CONNECTIONS*

*These are purposefully vague, and by no means set in stone. I’m absolutely willing to adjust accordingly with whatever plots and relationships The Marked may have had beforehand! I did one for every skeleton, in hopes of providing a jumping-off point for plotting! If you’re looking for your character, CTRL+F and type in their skeleton title!

I. THE VETERAN: They are similarly haunted, even if the shape their ghosts take the form of is different by a wide margin. Their suffering does not appear to be quite so physical, in Ambrose’s eyes, although he recognizes their stiff-legged gait and paranoid gaze as well as he recognizes his own. I could see the two of them growing close, in the fleeting way that friendships through trauma and regret are forged.

II. THE DOE-HEARTED: In her, Ambrose sees the faces of his own family. His brother tried to sway him from his path, time and time again, and he ignored him in favor of grit beneath his nails and the taste of glory. He wants to tell her there might be no hope at all: once a man is swayed towards the path of hubris, it’s difficult to pull him off of it, and if you do manage, the consequences are often dire.

III. THE IDOL: In them, there is the spirit of expedition, the same spirit he’d harnessed in his youth to carry him far and wide. Their fire is by no means unfamiliar, although they have a different flavor than the usual doe-eyed naivete he encounters from men and women too young. They carry a ghost in the shape of their superior with them, and Ambrose can’t help but feel a streak of pity for them, the same pity he holds for himself.

IV. THE CAPTAIN: Pride makes men cruel, angry, ugly, and so does ambition. It’s… odd, this need to shake them by their shoulders and tell them they’re being a fool, but it’s there nonetheless. He doubts he’ll ever work up the courage, but if there were ever a mirror-image of his old self atop The Promethean, Ambrose fears it takes shape in the form of The Captain.

V. THE SCION: He circles The Scion like a bird of prey because he knows of nothing else to do. They were both caught in the throes of London’s glory, both caught up in the pride that comes from being something. But The Scion was kind-hearted, even if they now find themselves setting it aside, where Ambrose certainly wasn’t. He was nasty, cruel-mouthed and sharp-tongued, basked too much in his glory to bother extending his reach to the common people he once worked alongside. His ghosts and his guilt make him similarly ugly, and I’d like to explore if this is any different from the implied connection he and The Scion had beforehand, if their interactions were surface-level or went beyond that.

VI. THE SHADOW: A wolf is a wolf is a wolf, and in them, Ambrose sees hunger that stems neither of eagerness or inexperience. Their hunger is borne from desperation, and he’d be lying if he said that didn’t unsettle him. He, too, has donned sheep’s clothing time-and-time again, lied and cheated and stole to get his hands on the fingerbones of corpses and through the doors of old tombs. He used to be just as hungry, but now his belly has been slit, filled with stones, and any appetite he once had is gone… but The Shadow might reawaken old cravings.

VII. THE IDOL: In them he sees exactly the sort of thing he would have been digging for. Grief, sorrow, and ambition forged into one being, coated in gold and perfect to be put up in a museum. It makes sense, then, given his pretenses, that he would do his best to keep his distance, at the cost of several potentially awkward interactions.

VIII. THE CLAIRVOYANT: They see the thing that hangs around Ambrose’s head. They see the great, hulking wolfhound he has become, alongside the pale imitation of himself that lurks in his shadow. Make no mistake: he may be more terrified than they are, fears answers as much as he seeks them. He dances around the confrontation, skirts around the truth, knows it will find him eventually, knowing they might be the one to bring it.

VIX. THE NOBLE: Their voice refused to harmonize in much the same way his did. They have probably encountered each other, at some point or another, and it seems to be some cruel joke, the way he cannot escape from the very people he once used to entertain. He tries to weave them stories, in the way that he used to, but the words never seem to fit the right way in his mouth.

X. THE COMMANDER: Enough of humility, they declare, and Ambrose wants to tell them he’ll trade his pride for their humility, but he’s seen their silent companion called insecurity dog after as many as twenty men, men he’s dragged around on expeditions and men he’s dug up from graves. Most kings die from insecurity, from a want to be something bigger themselves. Ambrose himself is in the process of decay; he can’t help but wonder if The Commander might follow suit.

XI. THE EMPRESARIO: In them he sees his old self, and when they share the same space, it’s something like a light trying to spark on in the dark. Their ambition is familiar, as is their eagerness to forge a new path ahead. He, himself, had been much the same, in his fleet-footed days as a professor, and he seems to mirror their attitudes and somehow encourage them with ease even with the warning tugging at his tongue, begging to fall from his lips.

XII. THE ROMANTIC: If their brother is a soothsayer, then they themselves are just the opposite. Ambrose takes an admitted comfort to the fact they seem to denounce their sibling at every possible turn, if only because it means there’s a chance his affliction (ghosts, always ghosts) are just… figments of his imagination, lies he tells himself.

XIII. THE LOVER: Beauty is nothing without dread. If history has taught Ambrose anything, it is to fear those who are beautiful above all else, and in that vein, the ghost at his ear whispers to fear The Lover, who has clever eyes and a clever heart. Were he his old self, he thinks he could easily go toe-to-toe with them, but he finds himself older, weary, less capable, and so he holds his tongue.

XIV. THE ENIGMA: He would have trusted them on an expedition in a heartbeat, there’s no doubt about that. They’ve certainly got capable enough hands to do well in a career of bloodshed for a little bit of kingdom. He feels compelled to trust them now, might share a piece of himself here and there, were they willing to let him do so, although he heels more often than he howls.

XV. THE PURSER: They value money the same way he once valued glory, and frankly, that might be all there is to it. By default these days he’s cautious around those who make him think too much of himself, and as someone who vaulted similarly from the slums of London to a position of power, he is waiting for them to meet their Icarian downfall in the same way he did.

XVI. THE DOCTOR: Opium addiction is not uncommon among men in Ambrose’s old circles, and it’s not unfamiliar to him. In fact, these days it’s the only thing keeping Ambrose afloat. I’m not totally sure as to whether or not it’s accessible,  but if The Doctor will provide the one thing… that wins him a few sacred minutes of sleep? He’ll be certain to make himself familiar.

XVII. THE CHRONICLER: Theirs is the pursuit of truth, and there’s no doubt in my mind that at some point or another at the height of his fame, they published something unsavory about Ambrose’s endeavors. Something ugly about the way he relished in digging for the dead. He doesn’t much like them, I figure, and he’d rather avoid them than he would hold a conversation, but… some things are just unavoidable, aren’t they?

XVIII. THE STOWAWAY: When given a choice, Ambrose chose to claw and climb his way to the top, at the cost of his relationship with his mentor, his old friend, his colleagues. He had once been nothing, and given the chance to be something, there was no hesitation at all. He understands them, but once again cannot put words to his understanding. They are lost on him, as most things these days are.

XIX. THE SOCIALITE: He entertained them and their family, once or twice. In fact, it might have been the case there was something between them, every blue moon, when hunger of a different kind struck. But the man he used to be and the man he is now are different creatures, and whatever capacity in which they knew each other has surely changed as a result.

XX. THE SONGBIRD: He’d enjoyed their singing, at one time, when he’d stood at the peak of London’s mountains, but a lark is still a lark, and even the most beautiful of songs can sound sour to the wrong ears. Their fall from grace seems to mirror Ambrose’s, however, and the notion makes him uncomfortable.

XXI. THE HARUSPEX: Regret tinges each and every one of his interactions with The Haruspex, no matter how much he wishes it were otherwise. He might be an old dog, but he is a dog with teeth, and The Haruspex reminds him of a whelp that doesn’t know any better. He wishes he could guide them towards a prosperous future in the way he used to guide his students, but his hostility is now reflex, and he doesn’t know how much it’s going to take to shake them off before he outright tears their throat from the rest of them so they’ll stop yapping.

XXII. THE CHAPLAIN: Faith has no power over terror, but he is willing to try, for the sake of achieving the silence he so desperately yearns for. He will pray, repent, confess, do whatever it takes, but there’s something that wonders in the back of his head if The Chaplain can see through this facsimile of worship as easily as he does.

XXIII. THE WILDCARD: It’s a true tragedy to watch someone who is never wrong make mistakes, but Ambrose keeps an eye from a distance anyways. He could attempt to warn them, if he chose to. He does not, and the reasoning for why that is is unbeknownst to him.

[letmeringabell]

Legends Never Die - Chapter 1

Lately, I’ve been consuming a lot of Mortal Kombat content (Especially Erron Black and Kabal ones). So I thought that I should contribute in some way to the fandom, because you just gotta be the change you see in the world sometimes.

My OC’s name in this, is Vanessa. Basically, this is an Erron x F!OC fic, where the OC is a field medic, and Kotal wants to have friendly relations with Earthrealm by calling Special Forces for a field trip. 

I’m sorry for a slow first chapter, but sometimes you gotta lay down the framework, the same way you lay down a table mat before you eat to avoid making a mess. God, I’m so hungry.

Anyway, enjoy! I’ll include a link to the AO3 fic, or you can just search for it with the same name. 

Link : https://archiveofourown.org/works/20806688/chapters/49453874

- 

“And thus, Kotal Kahn has agreed to receive Special Forces’ Entourage as a sign of trust and cooperation between Outworld and Earthrealm.”

She hears General Blade’s voice boom throughout the hall, the entire fleet pays close attention to their leading officer-in command.

“This delegation will be led by Commander Cage. I, myself and Johnny will stay behind to watch over things here, just to make sure Earthrealm is kept in check. Take this as an opportunity to further sharpen your skills and reflexes. Don’t ever let your guard down, you never know what danger finds you in Outworld.”

There is no sugar-coating with General Blade, but it is apt for the situation.

General Blade continues on with her announcements; The time and place for the Delegation to assemble, the necessary and optional squadrons needed, and a briefing in Outworld Etiquette and Propriety later in the evening. The General ends the meeting, and dismisses everyone early to allow for preparation and packing. Every soldier needs to be fully ready; Their physical fitness at their peak, and iron-clad mental fortitude to persevere through the unknown days ahead.

Despite the warnings and precautions, the allure of danger and mysticality still has everyone whispering excitedly, or worriedly. She can’t tell at this point, because all sorts of whispers seem to drown out any distinction between the two.

What would they be doing there? What would they see in Outworld? What does Kotal Kahn want with Special Forces? Is Outworld coffee stronger than Earthrealm? Better yet, does Outworld actually have coffee?

She doesn’t stay long for the excitement nor dread that has everyone rapt in their conversation. She sees Jacqui and Cassie in the distance, and calls out to them eagerly. There are more pressing and urgent matters on hand, and she has a tendency to procrastinate.

-

“And here I thought packing my stuff would take the longest,” Cassie grumbles as she hoists another box to the corner of the room.

Jacqui is busy going through her extensive vault of books; Any journal, document, or research paper that would be useful goes in the box while others, would collect dust on the large shelf during their 6-month stay in Outworld. Jacqui is impressed by the sheer volume of reading material in the office, but silently hopes that this is the last of it. The whole sifting and sorting process is wearing her spirits down, and she feels the impending migraine pulsing at the back of her head.

“Don’t worry gals, I have come with gifts,” She comes in with a tray of hot coffee in hand, and immediately, the girls lighten up.

“God, I needed a break from all these books!”

“And I need a break from all this heavy lifting. We’ve gotta KonMari your office when we get back, Van,” Cassie says, taking the offered coffee with a tired hand and a soft thank you.

“We’re almost done, actually. All that’s left is the books, and after that, we can start moving my stuff onto the trolleys.”

“Thank God! If I have to sit through another ‘Cardio’, ‘Surgery’ and ‘Benign’, I’ll go nuts and throw the books through the roof. Why do you need so much books anyway? Most of the information is in the Special Forces Database.”

She shrugs carelessly, “Some of them are very old tomes and medical journals that are not online, and I prefer having paperback anyway. Makes jotting and scribbling little notes easier.”

“What ever you say, Doc,” Cassie holds her hands up in defeat, “Just make sure you pack for all sun and no rain, because Outworld is hot as hell.”

“No kidding. I almost got a heat stroke, and Outworld’s bedside manners aren’t exactly… up to par,” Jacqui’s grimace at the recollection is evidence enough that Outworld weather is not to be trifled with. Although, it does sound like the perfect weather to have ice cream and brownies, and every other dessert on the chilled spectrum.

Her glance moves beyond the window, into the outside world, and finally, settles at the sunset sky – The splashes of purple, pink and orange washes the sky in vivid technicolor, and it leaves her feeling some kind of way; Like she would never come to see the sunset sky the same way ever again. It is somewhat unsettling, yet, she doesn’t feel her skin prickle at the thought. Maybe it’s just her nerves or paranoia flaring up.

All of them finish packing her things up, and unloaded the boxes onto the designated trolleys. At least, she’s packed her stuff early and if she ever needed to pack more, she could just add to the load.

Cassie is the first to initiate the conversation, “So, Jacqui, Van, where do you wanna eat? We’ve got 2 whole days before we make a move, so we might as well start satisfying every craving known to man now.”

“Should we make a head start on sushi, then?” Nothing could’ve been any better.

-

Outworld is every bit as hot and dry as Jacqui and Cassie had described it to be, and she is thankful for their advice; Her medical outfit is light and loose, allowing for easier movement and a reprieve from the searing heat. She wonders whether everyone else is suffering in the heat, and if they’re cursing their decision to come to Outworld—Whether the allure of ‘I’ve been to Outworld and survived its hell’ had been worth the attraction in the first place.

Although, it is not her place to doubt the Special Forces. All of them had been trained for extreme climates and situation, and this delegation is no different. Cassie is front and center, with Jacqui at her side as her right-hand man. Everyone has their guns lock and loaded, and a contingency plan had been formed prior to their arrival should anything go wrong.

She catches a glimpse of 3 figures in the distance, and she can only guess who they are: Kotal Kahn, Kitana and Jade. They had rolled out the red carpet treatment, coming to greet the delegation themselves. The air surrounding the Force tenses in anticipation as they near the Kahns—Everyone’s standing a little straighter, and the grip on their guns tighten ever so slightly.

“Welcome to Outworld, fellow Earthrealmers,” His welcome had been loud and clear, “We hope that you enjoy whatever Outworld has to offer, and do not worry, we have prepared food and accommodation for your stay here.”

The Imperial Army had descended upon the Special Forces, (and to their relief) started helping them with their equipment and luggage. Immediately, everyone was up in arms, trying to work and sort through all the different boxes and luggage, making sure they don’t accidentally end up in the trash or some other unsavory place. She’s never went dumpster diving in Earthrealm, and she’s not going to start the habit in Outworld.

The Imperial Guard guided her through the Palace halls, and like any person with new experiences, she observed her surroundings; Talltalltall ceilings overshadowing longlonglong hallways, the pillars stand strong with their embellishments of royal red and gold, and there are windows interspersed to grant the Palace inhabitant a splendid view of the City from above. All in all, this Palace is bigger than any castle she’s seen back home.

The infirmary is nothing out of the ordinary – Cabinets filled with medical equipment and solutions, the beds are adjacent to the wall and there are people filing in out and out of the room. Her office is neat and tidy—Tables, bookshelves, and other assorted furniture had already been moved in for her comfort. I could get used to this, she mused to herself. Her office back home wasn’t this big nor spacious. It wasn’t cramped either, but one could always upgrade to bigger spaces once in a while.

There is a garden outside of her office, and its splendor can be admired from the infirmary. The spread of green stretches as far as the eye can see, yet there are fragments of oranges, reds and white that makes the garden all the more surreal. She spots the row of unknown plants in one corner of the garden, and wonders if there are herbs planted here for easy access. Maybe, she’ll ask some of the other doctors for help.

“Miss Vanessa,” The guard brings her out from her daydream, and speak of the devil, “I would like to introduce to you the Palace Doctors. They will be here to assist you should you need it.”

“Thank you, but I think I would be needing their help more than they mine.”

“Don’t be so modest, Miss Vanessa. We could all stand to learn from each other,” One of the Doctors joked, and before she knew it, she was being huddled by all these strangers. She was relieved to be welcomed so warmly, the fear of being an outcast had been an idle thought playing in the back of her head for the past few days.

The routine in the infirmary had been simple; 2 off-days, make sure that the medicine cabinet is always stocked, all rounds must be completed on schedule, paperwork must be filed, and other things she was already doing back at Earthrealm. She is reassured by the fact, that there is something that she is used to doing and it makes adjusting to life on Outworld a little easier.

Clack!

The sound of heavy footsteps against the marble floor had everyone’s breath held, there had been some sort of frenzy; Some frantic urgency that had caused them to file out of the room like a deer out of headlights. She was… confused? Confounded? What? She had walked to the doorway to find the reason for the commotion, and true enough, there had been a man at the center of it all.

Deadly—Had been the first word that came to mind. Gore and glory seem to go hand-in-hand because he shows up bloodied and slightly haggard (with mud trailing behind him, to her annoyance), yet his mere presence is enough to command everyone’s respect, is enough to have people whisper in awe and alarm at the sight of him.

He is tall—He towers over some of doctors crowding him, and even she can see that his physique is packing serious amount of muscle under all that clothing. He is dark – The tufts of brown can be seen in his sideburns, and he has a slight tan from all his days of yeehaw-ing around. Is he handsome? Hard to tell considering he has the bottom half of his face obscured with a mask.

He looks at her, and it makes her stand a little straighter. His eyes are intense, and it scares her how deeply he’s staring into her, but she still can’t look away-- Something in her tells her, forces her to hold his gaze.  It feels like forever since they’ve been staring at each other, but finally, something in his eyes change, and he subtly tips his hat off to her. Whether it is a sign of respect or acknowledgement, she doesn’t know.

But she breaks their staring contest, turns around and shuts the door behind her.

 -

1868 words

[words-writ-in-starlight]

42 on your Spotify playlist, Molly/Caleb if you think it fits them or another pairing of your choice if not.

Uh.  Remember that AU we were talking about awhile back.  Remember how I’m like halfway through “a ghost in my lungs” and kinda out for blood. 

I should NOT be allowed to write Caleb-centric fic at 2 AM anymore, huh?

Mirrors – Pvris

standing up rightabove me

Caleb does not remember how he got here—here, of all places, a sweet and handsome manor in the foothills,the mountains purple and magnificent above the forest to one side, the last redand orange leaves of fall like fire around him. It’s beautiful, picturesque, the very image of a wealthy family’s modestcountry retreat.

The doors, oak carved with a simple arabesque pattern drippingdown the frame like ivy, make sickness rise so hard and fast in Caleb’s gutthat he digs in his heels without a thought.

“Hit him,” a voice says, bored, and a kick out of nowheresends Caleb crashing to his knees.  Thecobbled path hurts, and he only realizes that his hands are chained behind him whenhe tries to catch himself and instead lands shoulder-first on the stone.  The gag between his teeth silences his yelpof pain, keeps him from biting into his tongue on impact.  He’s not sure if that’s a blessing or not.

Lying on the stone, he tries to remember what happened.

The fight—he remembers the fight, more of a good deed thananything else, when word came down of unsavory military recruitment tacticshappening in the rural townships south of Rexxentrum.  They’d spent three days asking questions andgetting basically nothing before their usual stupid luck had them blunderingstraight into trouble.

Real trouble.

Caleb remembers the wizard, with her two bodyguards and her coldblue eyes and her graceful dancer’s step. He remembers the way her voice sounded when she said, “Is that you, myfriend?”

And then he raised his hand, his fingers going black as hesummoned the fire that had always served him so loyally, and she said—

She said—

His hand burned and she opened her mouth and her throatworked and she said—

His memory goes black there, as swift and clean as if it wascut short with a blow of Yasha’s sword. All that remains is the crackle of fire, and the impression of heat onhis hands, and the bruises and cuts that he can feel, sprawled here on the stonepath.

One has the distinctive feel of frostbite, as if he’d beenstabbed with a shaft of ice through his right biceps.

Oh gods, Calebthinks, and retches helplessly.  Jester.

“You’re a disgrace, Widogast,” the voice says in disgustedZemnian.

“What did you do to me?” Caleb demands, lunging up—and beingkicked again, in the ribs this time, to drive him back to the ground.  “What–”

What did I do?

“Get him up,” Astrid orders, and Caleb is dragged ungentlyup to his feet, every muscle screaming in protest.  He doesn’t fight it as they drag him inside.  He’s too busy trying to catalogue the otherinjuries on his body.  That gash to histhigh—could that be from Yasha?  Thesplash-burn on his shoulder must be Eldritch Blast, from Fjord, and the achingbruise that throbs over his ribs in time to his heartbeat…Beau.  It has to be.

Please, gods, Archheart,if you ever gave a damn, let them be okay. Caleb has that gutted, scraped-thin feeling of having burned through alot of magic in a very short time.  Allof it, maybe.

All of it, at—who? His friends?

His family, again?

He comes back to himself when he’s more or less pushed down aflight of stairs into a familiar dungeon. It’s lit only by magical glowglasses, spaced between the cells down thecorridor.  They cannot account for thesmell of smoke.

“Put him with the quiet one,” Astrid says.  “We’re a bit crowded, but don’t worry, yourroommate is very…cooperative.”  Then shehesitates.  Astrid, of all people, whowas always so sure and confident.  Whotook Caleb’s mind from him with one word—whatwas the word—and didn’t think twice.

She walks up and rests a hand on his cheek, using her gripon his jaw to force him to meet her eyes. Caleb learned to do that here, meet eyes.  If he was going to be the pride of the Empire,Ikithon always said, Caleb had to look honest and reliable, diplomatic, and hecould just have dinner when he could look his teacher in the eye and askpolitely.

Astrid’s eyes are still blue and clear and cold, and she easesher grip on Caleb’s face a touch as he stares back at her.  She strokes his cheek, almost gentle.

“Don’t worry, Caleb,” she says, still in Zemnian.  “You’ll be with us again, just as soon as you’rebetter.  It’ll be okay.  We’re going to make it okay.”

Caleb is frozen for a long moment, half in terror and halfin shock.  He can’t even articulate itbecause—because he just wants her to stop touchinghim, to stop looking at him.  Whatever she did, to take him away fromhimself and drag him back here, it left a feeling of bone-deep contamination inits wake, as if every small crevice he’s eked out clean of Ikithon’s influencehas been dirtied all over again.

Then he hears Nott’s voice, all the way back when they firstmet, saying frankly, “Everyone thinks they’re real scary until they’ve got goblinteeth in their leg.”

Astrid runs her thumb over his chapped lower lip, idle andpossessive, and Caleb opens his mouth and bitesher as hard as he can.

It’s worth the beating, to spit her own blood back at her,and for a moment all he can think is that Molly would be proud of him.

“Widogast,” Astrid pants, clutching her freely bleeding handto her chest and looking down at him where he’s all but hanging by the armsfrom the grip of her two guards.  “I’vebeen waiting to have you back with us for twelve years, but I have to say I’mlooking forward to making you pay for running, first.  Throw him in the cell.  He’ll live.”

Being mandhandled into the cell hurts so much that Calebgoes away again, a little bit, in a much more familiar way than before.  He lands on the ground and drags in threeslow breaths, just like he was trained to, and then rolls onto his back to takestock.

He’s in rough shape, he decides.  He’ll live, certainly, but he won’t enjoy it muchin this state.  At least one rib isbroken.  He thinks his ankle might be aswell, but he’s having some numbness that should probably worry him even more.

Maybe, he thinks grimly, he could fracture that rib properlyand punch a hole in his own lung to suffocate quietly through, before she comesback.

Because, of course, he’s going to die here.  That was a given from the moment he saw thedoors again.  Even if the Nein decided tocome after him—and gods, why would they, he’s a monster, a rabid dogwho finally turned on them—they would doubtless scout it and conclude that ahalf-decent wizard with a cat and homicidal tendencies isn’t worth riskingtheir necks for.

That’s assuming they’re all still alive.

Gods, he wishes he had his cat with him.

Caleb doesn’t know how long he’s been lying there, when hefeels the hand on his shoulder—an exploratory sort of poke, as if seeing if he’sbitten the metaphorical big one since rolling over.  He raises a hand feebly, trying to say not dead yet without trying to actuallyspeak.  Speaking seems a bit outside his capabilitiesright now.

His cellmate—the ‘quiet one’, whatever that meant—clears theirthroat and says softly, “Wa-ter?”

They sound rough and ragged, like they’ve been silent a longtime, and they shape the word like someone learning a completely foreign tongue,hitting every consonant too hard and muddling the vowels.  

Caleb sits up so fast he feels something in his chest crunch,and narrowly misses crashing headfirst into a magnificently curled horn.

Kneeling over him is a tiefling with skin that shows lavenderand scarred in the dim light, loose shirt maybe white once.  The eyes throw the light back, reflecting redall around, without a trace of pupil, and the hand being held up as if to warnCaleb off has—oh, it has a tattoo, Caleb can see it curl around the wrist, asnake, and on the neck, peacock feathers and a hidden red eye.

“Mollymauk?” Caleb rasps.

He’s feeling a little hysterical.  Gods, maybe Caleb’s died already and this is his own personal chamber of the Nine Hells.  That sure would save everyone some trouble.

Mollymauk Tealeaf holds out a tin cup, and repeats, “Wa-ter?”

[killjoygeorgiaandotherstories]

Assassins, Thieves and Beggars

Just a collection of OC characters, (not my art though, sadly) and some world building for a story I am writing, about cool assassins and magic and religion and revenge.

0 - THE FOOL

Meaning: The Fool represents new beginnings, having faith in the future, being inexperienced, not knowing what to expect, having beginner's luck, improvisation and believing in the universe.

Upright Card: Beginnings, Spontaneity, Originality, Innocence, Leap of faith

Reversed Card: Naivety, Poor judgement, Folly, Lack of direction, Stupidity, Chaos

Anastasia Allencroft: The daughter of an Arelenian mother and an Isleish father, both of whom themselves came from old and aristocratic family's, it could be easily said that Anastasia was from distinguished stock. She was frequently referred to as an intense young girl by her tutors and friends, and this intensity carried over into adulthood as she grew. She was intelligent and a talented fencer, but suffered from an often poor judgement, and a tendency to take her position of privilege for granted, believing herself exempt from many things simply due to the titles her family had. Her life of refinement and aristocratic leanings came to a close however when her relationship with another woman was made known, and the Inquisitors came to hang her and her lover, Sara Sallwick. Having escaped from the reach of the Church, Anastasia now works as the apprentice to the legendary assassin the Crow, and searching for those who turned her in so that she can enact her revenge. 

I - THE MAGICIAN 

Meaning: When the Magician appears in a spread, it points to the talents, capabilities and resources at the querent's disposal to succeed. The message is to tap into one's full potential rather than holding back, especially when there is a need to transform something.

Upright Card: Determined, Resourceful, Strong powerful man, Dexterity, Skilled

Reversed Card: Deceit, Lack of energy, Communication blocks, Confusion, Ill intentions

“Red” Rudy Dillinger: Red Rudy, as he is commonly known on the streets of Townhill, is a powerful force within the underworld. Though he is officially a union boss and bar owner, he is well known to be much much more than that. A highly profitable extortionist, or Shakedowner, using his position as a union boss to suck money out of businesses and workers alike, he has begun to branch out to other criminal enterprises such as river piracy and bootlegging. Both a powerful ally and dangerous enemy, many of the gangs in the city swear allegiance to him in some way or another, and it is expected that one always pays him a cut of any money they make if they are operating a criminal enterprise on territory considered his. One of the many criminals under his employ is the Crow.

II - THE HIGH PRIESTESS 

Meaning: High Priestess is a card of mystery, stillness and passivity. This card suggests that it is time to retreat and reflect upon the situation and trust your inner instincts to guide you through it. Things around you are not what they appear to be right now.

Upright Card: Spiritual insight, Hidden talents, Intuition, Things yet to be revealed, Mystery

Reversed Card: Secrets, Information withheld, Lack of personal harmony

Mother Mary: Little is known about Mother Mary, other than that she seemed to just appear in the slums one day, that she comes from the colonies, (or so she says) and that she is far older than she appears. No one knows exactly how old she is, but the old folks who were around some 50 odd years ago when she appeared say that she hasn't aged a bit. No one knows much of how she makes her living, other than giving tarot readings to those who are willing to pay, but she still manages to maintain a life in a lavish townhouse that she had specially built in the slums. She is treated with simultaneous fear and exultation, and many have begun to bring offerings of incense and talismans to her as a sign of respect. 

III - THE EMPRESS 

Meaning: The Empress is traditionally associated with maternal influence, it is the card if you are hoping to start a family. She can represent the creation of life, romance, art, or new business.

Upright Card: Pregnancy, Nurturing, Abundance, Maternal care, A new opportunity, Stability

Reversed Card: Financial issues, Stagnation, Domestic problems, Unwanted pregnancy

Coleen Lichter: Colleen has been with the Sallwick family from the very start. She was the first person Mr Sallwick hired when he started to earn money, and is in many respects the true mother of Sara Sallwick considering her mother died in childbirth. As Mr Brennan Sallwick’s fortunes increased and the household staff increased with it, she was able to climb her way up the ranks through simple seniority over everyone. She has served as the wet nurse, maid, tutor, and everything in between, with her now being second practically only to Mr Sallwick himself. Gruff and demanding, she is considered a tough critic, but never once has anyone said she is unfair. She has many beliefs, all of them strong, but she believes strongest of all that everyone is entitled to their own life. Her second strongest belief is to pull oneself up by their bootstraps, something she has trouble passing onto Anastasia now that she has come to stay in the Sallwick household. 

IV - THE EMPEROR

Meaning: This card is suggestive of stability and security in life. You are on top of things and everything in under your control. It is your hard work, discipline and self control that have bought you this far. It means that you are in charge of your life now setting up your own rules and boundaries.

Upright Card: Law and order, Power, Leadership, Father figure, Promotion, Authority

Reversed Card: Loss of authority, Immaturity, Control freak, Lack of discipline, Manipulative friends

Brennan “The Black” Sallwick: A man of honor, but also a man from a criminal background, Brennan Sallwick was the bastard son of a prostitute and originally named Karl Steel. He grew up on the streets of Townhill, living and stealing predominantly on the infamous Bowler Street, before joining the Bowler Street Boys gang. He quickly became an enforcer for the gang, making sure those in their territory paid their dues, and killing those who apposed their rule of the area. He soon found that there was money to be made as a killer, and began selling his skills as an assassin for hire, earning money for some time through murder, until he was run out of town by the Watch Officers. He became a sailor, serving in the merchant marine, as a whaler, and for a stint in the navy, before changing his name. Upon returning to the city, he picked up where he left off as an assassin, and eventually earned enough money to buy a fishing vessel. With the fishing vessel he earned enough money to buy another, and another, and eventually branched out into buying two whaling vessels as well. Simultaneously he was becoming more and more renowned as an assassin, with the wanted posters and people of the city dubbing him “The Crow” for the distinctive mask he wore. He was at the peak of influence a non aristocrat could reach before his daughter was hung up on a lamppost for “knowing another of her sex in an intimate manner,” and though he had arrived to late to save his daughter, he had managed to save his daughter’s lover Anastasia. 

V - THE HIEROPHANT 

Meaning: Hierophant stands for tradition and convention. It can represent marriage in an arranged setup. It can also mean a teacher or counselor who will help in learning / education of the querent.

Upright Card: Seeking counsel or advice, Marriage, Tradition, Religion, Learning, Spiritual guidance, Education

Reversed Card: Breakdown, Rejection of family values, Abuse of position, Poor counsel

Father Noah Lasseter: Noah Lasseter managed to earn his unsavory position of Parish Priest to the Docks District (more colloquially known as Slum City) by being loudmouthed and brazenly against the grain while learning the trade of priest at the Hiller Mouth Monastery. Though deeply religious, he has developed a strong opinion on how the Church practices their worship of the All Father, believing that most Church authorities focus far to much on the “Judge the Wicked” aspect rather than the “Defend the Meek” aspect. And though he does believe that Judge the Wicked has its place, he instead chooses to interpret the Commandments much more literally as directions to creating peaceful and safe communities, rather than judging all who are different as monsters who threaten that community. This rebellious and outspoken attitude earned him the ire of many of his colleagues, who placed him in what many saw as the worst district, far from the aristocrats and business owners who’s donations could fill the coffers of the church. But, the Docks District was exactly the kind of place that a man like Father Noah was needed, where his accepting attitude made him popular among the so called “deviants” who had been banished to the slums. And it just so happened that his church was the childhood place of worship for one Brennan “The Black” Sallwick.

VI - THE LOVERS

Meaning: The Lovers represent relationships and choices. Its appearance in a spread indicates some decision about an existing relationship, a temptation of the heart, or a choice of potential partners. Often an aspect of the querent's life will have to be sacrificed; a bachelor(ette)'s lifestyle may be sacrificed and a relationship gained (or vice versa), or one potential partner may be chosen while another is turned down. Whatever the choice, it should not be made lightly, as the ramifications will be lasting.

Upright Card: Falling in love, Commitment, Choices, Being at a crossroads, Partnerships

Reversed Card: Separation, Infidelity, Relationship issues, Broken relationship

Anastasia Allencroft, Sara Sallwick: Anastasia Allencroft, rightful heiress to the Allencroft titles, and Sara Sallwick, heiress to the Sallwick fortune and fleets, met by chance at a party as their respective dancing partners were friends. They were fast friends, and quickly more than friends, with each simultaneously experiencing their first love and experiencing true fear all at once. They knew that the feelings they felt were against Church teachings, and that if anyone knew of their relationship they would be tried for Sexual Degeneracy and hanged. But no matter how many times they tried to break off the relationship, they kept finding themselves returning to one another, and began to make plans on how they could remain with one another forever if possible. They could never be married, but they could find a way to make it work. But of course, nothing lasts forever,and the Inquisitors put an end to their relationship. 

VII - THE CHARIOT

Meaning: The Chariot is a card about overcoming conflicts and moving forward in a positive direction. One needs to keep going on and through sheer hard work and commitment he will be victorious.

Upright Card: Overcoming obstacles, Will power, Drive, A journey, Confidence, Ambition

Reversed Card: Scattered energy, Lack of direction, Self doubt

Fisher Watcher: The Fisher Watcher is a colloquial name for a type of eel that lives in the waters surrounding the Isles and the northern coasts of Eropa. They are peaceful creatures, and are known for coming to the surface of the water to watch fishers, and consequently scaring away all the fish. For a long time, before humans fully learned how to navigate the oceans safely, they were believed to be dangerous sea monsters, but as humans spread onto the waves this proved to be false, and now they are seen as omens of peace and good luck. 

VIII - STRENGTH 

Meaning: Strength predicts the triumphant conclusion to a major life problem, situation or temptation through strength of character. It is a very happy card if you are fighting illness or recovering from injury.

Upright Card: Virility, Inner strength, Potency, Vitality, Confidence, Self-belief, Enjoying power

Reversed Card: Hedonism, Self-doubt, Lacking courage, Lack of self-control, Vanity

Townhill: Townhill has been the most important city in the Isles since humans first began to settle into permanent settlements and towns. Its location on the ocean makes it ideal for trade, and the multiple peaks and hills that rise in the north make it an easily defensible city. It quickly rose to prominence as a major trading hub and fishing town, and after King Tyrus Willun of Mournly conquered the rest of the Isles and became the first Emperor, he named it the capitol. It has seen many riots, multiple outbreaks of Blood Cough, a coup, a revolutionary army, and uncountable small tragedies and triumphs. And yet still it stands, proud and strong as a mountain. 

IX - THE HERMIT

Meaning: The Hermit suggests that you are in a phase of introspection where you are drawing your attention inwards and looking for answers within. You are in need of a period of inner reflection, away from the current demands of your position.

Upright Card: Soul-searching, Introspection, Solitude, Withdrawn from society, Meditation, Self-reflection

Reversed Card: Misfit, Withdrawing from loved ones, Exile, Sadness, Loneliness

Keeper Thomas Leolid: Thomas Leolid has grown up in the Hiller Forest, coming from a family of Keepers going back generations. He is young for the job, having had the position thrust on him rather suddenly when both his father and eldest brother died of Blood Cough, but goes about his work diligently and with care. He is a believer in the holy nature of the forest, and is proud to tell the monks and students at the Hiller Mouth Monastery that his sector of the forest is the most beautiful and well cared for. He was not to popular however due to his age as compared to the other Keepers, and due to the fact that he was one of the few who considered Noah Lasseter a friend and worthy Parish Priest, with them both of the sharing similar interpretations of the Commandments. 

X - WHEEL OF FORTUNE

Meaning: A common aspect to most interpretations of this card within a reading is to introduce an element of change in the querent's life, such change being in station, position or fortune: such as the rich becoming poor, or the poor becoming rich.

Upright Card: Changes, Opportunity, Luck, Destiny, Winning, Chance

Reversed Card: Mishap, Unforeseen setback, Bad luck, Misfortune, Disappointment

Hemena of Fortunes and Fate: Hemena is a caretaker of Fate and one of the chief spirits who watches over the Aether, watching how it affects peoples fortunes. She is one of the first humans, who upon death was allowed to continue living by the Stranger, but only in exchange for constantly monitoring the fortunes and fates, never being able to truly enjoy life’s wonders as she could when she was alive. She is seen as a sad figure, the first soul to fall victim to the Strangers tricks, but also as a matronly figure of sorts, helping humanity continue onward’s. 

XI - JUSTICE

Meaning: The Justice card indicates that the fairest decision will be made. Justice is the sword that cuts through a situation, and will not be swayed by outer beauty when deciding what is fair and just.

Upright Card: Fairness, Justice, Cause and effect, Balance and equilibrium, Responsibility

Reversed Card: Lack of accountability, Unfair treatment, Dishonesty, Legal flaws, Imbalance

The Wardens: The Warden’s are a branch of law enforcement similar to a sheriff. They are elected officials, and can come from many walks of life, though they are typically either soldiers of Watch Officers before hand. There are many Wardens throughout the city, with each having their own jurisdiction to watch over. Unlike sheriff’s, and especially unlike regular Watch Officers, the Wardens are given much more free reign in how they go about their duties, and have far fewer regulations holding them back. Other than their jacket, they are required to equip themselves, choose who they work with, (or not even work with others at all) and are considered by many to be above the law, and are tasked with preserving law and order through any means necessary. In terms of legal authority, they are one step below a Justice of Peace and Law. Though it is preferred and requested of the Wardens that they take in the criminals they encounter alive, most interactions are left up to the Wardens discretion, and if they say the person they were after deserved to die, it is generally accepted. 

XII - THE HANGED MAN

Meaning: The Hanged Man is the card that suggests ultimate surrender, sacrifice, or being suspended in time.

Upright Card:  Letting go, Breaking old patterns, Circumspection, Suspension, Metamorphosis

Reversed Card: Missing an opportunity, Inability to change, Egotism

The Stranger: The Stranger is a mysterious, nebulous, and controversial figure in the universe. Some believe he is the All Father, master of the universe. Others believe that he is an opposite of the All Father, a tricky and dangerous figure opposed to the All Father’s teachings. But, no matter what he is, it is believed that he is a necessary evil, as he is the ultimate authority in the Empty, the place between worlds, and that he is the keeper of the Aether along with the spirits who he has tricked into their positions. It is not actually known if the Stranger even has a gender, but he has always been called male due to the fact that he typically appears to mortals as a dapper man of the aristocracy. 

XIII - DEATH

Meaning: Unlikely that this card actually represents a physical death. Typically it implies an end, possibly of a relationship or interest, and therefore implies an increased sense of self-awareness.

Upright Card: Endings, Severe illness, Profound change, Letting go of attachments, Failure, Mortality

Reversed Card: Living unaware, Depression, Long terminal illness, Resistance to change, Delayed endings

Tim Killington: A young man and general low life, also under the employ of Red Rudy, he often acts as an informant and spy, helping the Crow get an understanding of the residency’s or places of business his targets are staying at. Tim grew up with his brother Ben as a street urchin, and began working as a message boy for the various criminals in the Docks District to make money. He little by little worked his way up in position, eventually giving out information he had collected in his travels around the district. . . for the right price of course. He is rather cocky and laid back, and smokes enough to choke a horse. Despite his persistently cheery and somewhat egotistical attitude, it cant be denied that he has the dirt on just about anyone, and if he doesn't he can get it. Due to his awareness of things going on around him, he has been instrumental in the rise and fall of many crime lords and gangsters over the past 15 or so years. 

XIV - TEMPERANCE

Meaning: This card indicates that you should learn to bring about balance, patience and moderation in your life. You should take the middle road, avoiding extremes and maintain a sense of calm.

Upright Card: Connecting with your guides, Balance, Moderation, Harmony, Alchemy, Looking for divine intervention

Reversed Card: Disharmony, Imbalance, Onset of illness, Lack of patience

Ben Killington: The much more dour younger brother of Tim Killington. Like his brother, he grew up as a street urchin, but made his way by becoming a thief, a career choice that continues on now into his early adulthood. Though technically under the employ of Red Rudy, (and he does indeed kick up to the crime boss,) he is rather indifferent to the politics of the underworld he inhabits, simply trying to make a living and doing what he has to do to survive. 

XV - THE DEVIL

Meaning: It represents being seduced by the material world and physical pleasures. Also living in fear, domination and bondage, being caged by an overabundance of luxury, discretion should be used in personal and business matters.

Upright Card: Temptation, Unhealthy relationships, Enslavement, Materialism, Bondage, Fear, Feeling trapped

Reversed Card: Freedom from restraints, Breaking from addictions, Divorce

Carver: Carver is an assassin of similar reputation and skill as the infamous Crow. Not much is known about him, other than that he frequently kills those who are considered enemies of the Church, leading many to believe that he is under their employ. Though no one knows who he really is, most believe that he is in some way indebted to or otherwise stuck under the control of the Church, and is being forced to do their bidding.

XVI - THE TOWER 

Meaning:  The Tower is commonly interpreted as meaning danger, crisis, destruction, and liberation. It is associated with sudden unforseen change.

Upright Card: Unexpected change, Renovation, Catastrophe, Destruction, Accident or damage

Reversed Card: Obstacles, Volatile situation, Losses, Illness

The Attack On Allencroft Manor: With the discovery of the relationship between Anastasia Allencroft and Sara Sallwick came the Inquisitors, the ultimate authority on the laws and commandments of the Church. While the Isles has no official religion, there are a series of laws that state that Church business and law may be upheld by agents of the Church, but that the government will give no aid in these endeavors. Over time however, these laws have been questioned more and more due to the increasingly belligerent and violent tactics employed by the Church. The Inquisitors struck during a dinner party, in which both Anastasia and Sara were in attendance. They were initially turned away by a servant at the door, after which they returned with guns and fire bombs,forcing their way into the building and killing two servants who tried to stop them. The party was sent frightened into the night, Lord Allencroft was shot and killed, and Sara Sallwick was hung from the rafters. When Brennan Sallwick arrived, under the guise of the Crow, to save his daughter, he instead only managed to make it out with his daughters lover. In vengeance, the Inquisitors burned the house to the ground. But, their actions only soured the public opinions of them even further. After all, if even aristocrats weren't safe from the Churches power, who was?

XVII - THE STAR

Meaning:  When the Star card appears, you are likely to find yourself feeling inspired. It brings renewed hope and faith and a sense that you are truly blessed by the universe at this time.

Upright Card: Good health, Opportunities, Spirituality, Astronomy, Inspiration, Hope

Reversed Card: Despair, Missed opportunities, Disappointments, Illness

Mirel The Muse: Mirel the Muse is of unknown origin, but there are some theory's as to how he came to be. The most common belief is that Mirel is the spirit of a dead saint, who was fond of art and music. To be able to continue playing and creating his art forever, Mirel made a deal with the Stranger that if he became the Muse, spirit of all art and creation, that he could continue to play forever. But, as in all deals made with the Stranger, there was a catch, and Mirel found himself a slave of a single alleyway where he could no longer go out and see the things that inspired him. Now all the music he plays is filled with despair. 

XVIII - THE MOON

Meaning: The Moon is a card of illusion and deception, and therefore often suggests a time when something is not as it appears to be. Perhaps a misunderstanding on your part, or a truth you cannot admit to yourself.

Upright Card: Difficult period, Insecurity, Mental confusion, Deception, Hidden things, Fear

Reversed Card: Unhappiness, Release of fear, Insomnia, Unusual dreams, Mysteries unveiled

Corlina of Secrets: Corlina was once a priest, who used his position to manipulate people into paying large sums of money to the church, which he then pocketed himself. When he died, he carried this secret with him, and his guilt prevented from ever being able to rest peacefully, or ever pass on. Stuck forever in the Aether, the Stranger offered a deal, keep the secrets of the world, and walk the Earth once more. But, the deal was skewed, the secrets of the world weighed heavily on the shoulders of Corlina, who was stuck with unceasing guilt and no release for all eternity. 

XIX - THE SUN

Meaning:The card portends good fortune, happiness, joy and harmony. It represents the universe coming together and agreeing with your path and aiding forward movement into something greater.

Upright Card: Joy, Enlightenment, Material happiness, Marriage, Success, Vitality

Reversed Card: False impressions, Lack of clarity, Low Vitality, Sadness

The Empire of the Twelve Isles and All Her Colonies: No matter what small tragedies and personal conflict occur in the Empire, it is a large nation, and marches ever onward. The philosophers and scientists always discover new things, beautiful art is produced in the cities. The oil from the northern isles fuels the vast fleets of fishing boats and whaling ships. The Imperial Navy keeps enemies from the shores. Coffee and fruit from the colonies feed millions. 

XX - JUDGEMENT

Meaning: This card is referred to as a time of resurrection and awakening, a time when a period of our life comes to an absolute end making way for dynamic new beginnings.

Upright Card: Decision making, Transition, Renewal, Redemption, Awakening, Reincarnation

Reversed Card: Stagnation, Self-doubt, Poor logic, Poor or hasty judgement

The Inquisitors: The defenders of the Church, the judgement of sinners, the destroyers of heretics. The Inquisitors are many things, most of them frightening to the average citizen of the Empire. To normal people, the Inquisitors represent powerful forces beyond their control making decisions about their lives. They were not always this way however, and originated as knights who would wander the land killing monsters, or protecting monasteries from raiders. But over time, as the raiders were eclipsed by standing armies and the monsters were eradicated from the world, they became the militant arm of the church, dedicated to seeking out and destroying anything deemed heretical. 

XXI - THE WORLD

Meaning: The World represents an ending to a cycle of life, a pause in life before the next big cycle beginning with the fool. It is an indicator of a major and inexorable change, of tectonic breadth.

Upright Card: Successful conclusions, Possibilities, Fulfillment, Achievement

Reversed Card: Delayed success, Lack of completion, Stagnation, Failed plans

The World: No matter what we do, the world turns and turns, indifferent to our existence. The Empty shows what we truly are, the Aether spews its magic, and spirits roam the ground and sea alike. All will be well, given enough time.

[firebendermaedhros-blog]

I see your Star Wars/Mass Effect and I raise you: Avengers/Mass Effect

I SPENT AN UNREASONABLE AMOUNT OF TIME WRITING THIS PLEASE LOVE ME (I’ll probably expand on this in the future but here take this)

Collateral: Part One (Vantage Point)

F: Avengers/Mass EffectCH: Jane Shepard, Garrus Vakarian, Clint BartonSH: Shepard/Garrus, with some patented Hawkeye flirting

“Hey, Shepard.” Garrus clicked his mandibles nervously and rubbed the back of his neck, wincing as he brushed past the bandage on his face. “I know we’re about to leave Omega space, and I want to get out of here as much as you do, but I have a favor to ask.”

“Anything.” Shepard said immediately. She was still wrapping her mind around the fact that Garrus was here - she could touch him, see him, talk to him. She had her best friend back. He was a vigilante on Omega, of course, and they’d had no less than three near-death experiences in the last 24 hours, but hell, call it a welcome home party. In any case, he was asking her for help and not staring at her like a monster back from the dead, so she took what she got.

“There’s someone back on Omega I need to go back for.” Garrus glanced around, like he was nervous to ask for anything. “I know you’ve got your own plans for building a crew, but this guy, he’s… he’s something special.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow. “You went to bring someone on?” She asked.

“If it’s not too much trouble, yeah.” He laughed shortly. “He’s your type.”

“I have a type?”

He laughed again, a real one this time, and Shepard smiled. She’d missed this. “Oh, yeah.” He said. “A stray with a tragic backstory and unsavory tendencies? That has you written all over it.”

“Really? And what are your unsavory tendencies, Mr. Vakarian?”

“Well, I don’t know if you heard about that Archangel guy or not…” They shared a good laugh before he became serious again. “Can you at least hear me out?”

Shepard hesitated. She knew that the Illusive Man had his own specific ideas about the crew, as much as he swore up and down that it was still under her command. She didn’t know what repercussions bringing an outsider onto the ship would bring. If it was anyone else, she’d say no, chalk the risk up as too much. But this was Garrus. He’d mourned her for two years, taken a rocket to the face, and still came out swinging just because she asked him to. If she could do him a favor, she could live with the Illusive Man’s pointed comments. “Go ahead.” She said, and Garrus visibly relaxed.

“His name is Hawkeye.” He started, drumming his talons on his arm. “Human male, a little taller than you. Not a big fan of helmets, like someone else I know.”

Shepard smirked at the jab, then crossed her arms. “Hawkeye, huh? What’s his deal?” She asked.

“You know how I was a vigilante? He’s… well, no.” He rubbed his neck again and started to pace. “We’ve been working next to each other while I was on Omega. He was another killer for hire, the best on the station. He’s never missed a shot, in his entire career, and I’ve tested that. But over the past couple of years - he’s a good kid, I know it.”

“Uh huh.” Shepard was starting to feel uneasy just from watching Garrus pace. I’d do the same thing if I was staring a corpse in the face. She thought and bit her tongue. “How do you know him again?”

Garrus laughed flatly. “Well, uh. I had a bit of an unpleasant start on Omega, so a few people put out a hit on me. And Hawkeye’s the best, so you can imagine who they all went to.”

Shepard froze, her mind screeching to a halt. “Hold on.” She held up her hand. “You know this guy through him repeatedly trying to murder you?”

Garrus hesitated, freezing in place. “Well… yeah. It’s not as bad as you-”

“No.” Shepard lifted her finger. “Uh-uh. No. Nope. Not happening. No.”

“Shepard!”

“No.” She gritted her teeth, ticking off her fingers. “He’s some kind of super assassin who’s apparently never missed, he’s been trying to murder you for two years, we just fought through three gangs all trying to kill you through any means necessary, and you think bringing him onto my ship will help you play nice? He could kill you in your sleep!”

“I can live with that risk-.” Garrus started to say.

“Well I can’t!”

Garrus looked visibly shocked at the outburst, then calmed his expression again. “Shepard.” His voice was cold and calm. “You asked if I had any conditions, this is my condition. Hawkeye is the only person in the galaxy I could ever trust as much as you. He’s tried to kill me, but he’s always been honest about it, and he’s saved my life more than he’s tried to take it. I don’t trust a Cerberus crew, even one that you run. I trust you, and I trust him.”

Shepard stared at him for a second. “You still trust me?” She finally asked. She’d meant to ask anything else, but it slipped out anyway. “After all this time?”

He sighed and shook his head. “Shepard, I’ll always trust you.” He said softly. “Just because I trust Hawkeye doesn’t mean I don’t trust you.” He stepped into her space, close enough that he loomed over her. “You’re my best friend. No one could ever take your place.”

Shepard glanced over his face for another second and didn’t see any traces of dishonesty. Her chest tightened, and she finally cleared her throat and looked away. “You know where to find him?” She asked.

“… Yeah.” She couldn’t figure out the emotion in his voice. “I’ll go mark it on the map.”

“I’ll do you one better. Suit up, let’s go grab him before we head out.” She cleared her throat again and headed towards the armory.

“Shepard?” Garrus called, and she paused. “Thanks.”

She smiled at that. “Of course. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t do you a few favors?”

-

“He usually holes up in warehouses with roof access, the taller the better. Abandoned and secluded. He isn’t what you’d call a people person.”

“I can understand that.” Shepard looked out the window of the cab and watched the buildings of Omega pass by. The station made her skin crawl. “He needs a good perch to watch.”

“He cycles between about a dozen of them. The pattern seems random, but he probably has a sequence in his head.” Garrus chuckled. “He acts like he’s an idiot, but he’s a damn genius. Are all you humans like that?”

“Just the best of us.” Shepard spared a smile. “You sure he’ll be here?”

“If he’s not, he will be soon. He’s had eyes on us from the second we set foot on the station.” He grinned. “He’ll know it’s me.”

“How? I thought no one had seen your face.”

“Oh, they haven’t. But he’ll know.” He drummed his talons on the wheel. “He’ll know.”

“Wait.” Shepard turned to look at him. “Do you even know what he looks like?”

A long moment of silence stretched between them. “… If I say no, will you hit me?”

Shepard’s head thunked back against the seat. “Oh my god, we’re going to die.” She groaned.

“Hey!” He elbowed her. “In our line of work, if someone knows your face, you’re doing it wrong. It’s a compliment!”

“We’re gonna die. Again. I just got un-dead and you’re gonna re-dead me.”

Garrus set the cab down outside of an old warehouse. He got out and stretched out, slowly looking around. “Come on.” He said after a minute, heading to a side door. “It’s rude to keep people waiting.”

“Really? That’s a new one.” Shepard drew her pistol and let it hang loosely at her side. “I was under the impression you liked to keep people dying from anticipation.”

He chuckled again, low enough in his chest that it rumbled. “You know what they say about popping the heat sink too early.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Did you mean to make that dirty?”

“I’ll let you decide.” He shot her a smirk. “I don’t suppose it’ll do any good to tell you that you won’t need your gun.”

“Nope.”

“Right, thought so.” He looked around the warehouse thoughtfully. It looked like no one had even thought about this place for years, let alone held a base there.

“You sure this is the right place?” Shepard asked, kicking up some of the dust.

“Oh, I’m sure.” Garrus tilted his head slightly. “Seeing how he’s been listening for the past minute, he should be making his dramatic appearance any second now.”

“Oh, now that’s just not fair.” A new voice whined from the rafters. Shepard’s head snapped up to look, and a shadow dropped down behind some cargo bins. Her fingers instinctively tightened around her pistol, and Garrus shot her a dirty look. She huffed and relaxed her grip, but refused to holster it.

“Archangel.” The voice called again. Footsteps echoed on the stairs as the man slowly thudded down into view. “Word on the street is you finally got what was coming to you. Pissing off every good citizen of Omega and all that, most people seem to think that you’re enjoying an early retirement.” The drawl to the man’s words was colonial, with another twinge Shepard couldn’t recognize. His boots thudded to the floor, but he kept himself in the shadows out of sight. “That, or you’d run off with a ghost.”

“Hawkeye.” Garrus crossed his arms and cocked a hip. “You do know I can see you, right?”

“Right, right, I forget you Turian fucks can see everything.” The man stepped out of the shadows and into clear view. He was average height, slightly bulky, with a quiver slung over his shoulder. Shepard’s first thought was that there was nothing remarkable about him, and her second thought was that was exactly the point. “How does that work, anyway? Like cat eyes? You see everything in night vision or ultraviolet or whatever?”

“I don’t know what a cat is.”

“What a sad life you lead.” The man cocked his head a little and smirked. “You took a rocket to the face and all you got was that little scar? You’re harder to kill than a damn cockroach.”

“What can I say? Someone has to keep you on your toes.”

Hawkeye laughed shortly, then shifted his vision over to Shepard and scanned her quickly. “This your ghost?” He asked.

Garrus nodded and stepped aside. “This is Commander Jane Shepard.”

“Commander Shepard?” Hawkeye’s eyebrows shot up. “Hell, they weren’t kidding about the ghost part.” He glanced back over at Garrus. “I’m glad to see you’ve got something set up, but what’s this about? You finally coming over to meet my folks? I knew we had something special.”

Garrus scoffed a little bit. “Wait until I buy you dinner to introduce me, I’ve got an offer for you. A job to end all jobs, if you will.”

“Aw, really? Here I thought you weren’t like all the other boys.”

“I’m putting together a crew.” Shepard interrupted, drawing the attention back to her. Hawkeye’s eyes snapped over to her and she felt a chill at the intensity. “Human colonies have been disappearing in the Terminus systems. They’re being kidnapped by the Collectors.”

“Collectors?” Hawkeye frowned. “You’re not telling me the whole story.”

“You’re familiar with my work two years ago?” Hawkeye nodded silently. “The Collectors are working for the Reapers. I intend to save all the people I can and take the fight to them, hit em where it hurts. I was told by a certain trusted associate that I could trust you.”

“Really?” Hawkeye crossed his arms and looked over at Garrus. “I assume you had something to do with that.”

“I may have put in a good word.” Garrus leaned against the wall and smirked at the human man. “It’s a good cause. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think it was, or if I didn’t think we need your help.”

Hawkeye nodded and looked between them. “Taking the fight to the Collectors, huh?” He said. “That means going through the hell relay. You do know that’s never been done before, right?”

“I’m aware.” Shepard said flatly.

“Right. Just wanted to make sure we were on the same page. So, that makes this a suicide mission. You also know that this is absolutely a suicide mission, right?”

“Right.”

“Alright. Cool.” He uncrossed his arms and started pacing slowly. “Why do you need me? You’ve already got a sniper.”

“I’ve been told you’ve never missed a shot.” Shepard said, and Hawkeye grinned.

“Yes ma'am. I don’t miss.” He seemed to be preening with pride for the first time since they’d started talking.

“And you have a pretty impressive resume as far as infiltration goes.” Shepard crossed her arms. “I can always use more recon on my team, this one here is about as subtle as a bag of hammers.”

“So you need someone sneaky who can shoot things.” Hawkeye lifted his chin at her. Shepard had never met someone who could make a motion with their chin seem sarcastic, but here he was. “Tell me why you need me.”

Shepard chuckled a bit. He really was making her work for it. “To tell you the truth, I need you because I just got someone very important to me back, and he asked me for a favor.” Shepard said, and she felt Garrus’ eyes on the back of her head. “It’s been two years since I saw him, and he told me that he’d come with me, on one condition. He wants someone else he can trust on my crew. So here we are.”

“Someone he can trust, huh?” Hawkeye looked over and Garrus. “You trust me? I’m touched, Archangel. Really, you’ve got me tearing up over here.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.” Garrus said without taking his eyes off of Shepard. “So, are you in?”

“Impossible odds, plenty of people to shoot, the opportunity to do some marriage counseling? Sounds like a hell of a time.” He crossed his arms and paced towards Shepard slowly. “But I want to know what I’m getting into. I don’t like being tied down, call it authority issues.”

“You won’t be.” Shepard replied flatly, stepping into his space. “And I understand authority issues, but once you’re on my crew, you answer to me and to me only. You break that trust and you’re gone. You want to leave, you check with me. I don’t want some wild gun waiting to go off any second, I want an asset that I can trust with the most important people in the galaxy to me, who won’t have any hesitation about doing anything necessary to save the entire universe. Am I clear?”

“Crystal, ma'am.” Hawkeye straightened his shoulders. “If you need help, then another hand won’t hurt. Long as you don’t have any problems with my methods.”

Shepard stared at the man for a long second, and he steadily returned her gaze. After a minute, she nodded and held out her hand. “Welcome to the Normandy.” She said, and Hawkeye grinned and shook her hand.

“Happy to come along.” He said. “So do I just grab my shit and run after you, or do you have people for that?”

Shepard smirked. “Yeah, I have someone in mind for the heavy lifting, don’t you worry.” She crossed her arms and looked to where Garrus was still silently staring at her. “Hey, ugly. Time to pay me back for this little favor.”

Garrus groaned and rolled his eyes, and Hawkeye smirked. “Come on, Archangel! It’s just a few heavy-duty storage crates. I might throw in a few extra things just to make you sweat.”

“You work out all the guys you bring home like this?” Garrus lightly elbowed him, and Shepard snorted in amusement.

“Just the handsome Turian assassins.” Hawkeye waggled his eyebrows. “It’s good to finally put a face to the record. You’ve been taunting me for long enough, I deserve a few jabs at you.”

“You know, Archangel isn’t my real name.” Garrus said as they started walking together.

“That so? I never could dig up anything on you, you slippery bastard.”

Garrus smirked and held out a hand. “Garrus Vakarian, former c-sec, Normandy weapons specialist, at your service.”

“Vakarian? Ugly name to match your mug.” Hawkeye grinned and shook his hand. “Clint Barton.”

“It’s good to finally meet you, Barton.”

“You too, Vakarian.”

[penumbra-rp]

Congratulations Aman, you have been accepted for the role of Alastor Moody!

This does mean that he has unreasonable standards for the world, sometimes. He can expect it to be…better than it is. He feels the presence of the younger order members a lot and considers it a personal failure that they’re involved. The ‘adults’ should be handling this on their own.

Admin Ash: Aman, it was all about the details when it came to your application. The fact that you didn’t shy away from Alastor’s disabilities ( the lost sight in one of his eyes and his utilizing a cane to get around after his leg amputation ), the fact that he’s so close with his little niece to allow her to interview him for her school project, the way that you carefully selected traits that showcased both the positive and negative points of his personality, even the pleasantly surprising music minor he took in school! All these things and more added something to our rough and gruff Moody that made him all the more human, all the more intriguing, and those special touches are why we can easily leave him in your capable hands. I, for one, am rooting for Order Dad Moody try to fix the world to his vision of ‘better.’ 

Please check out our checklist for joining Penumbra.

01. Out of Character

NAME: Aman

AGE: 24

YOUR BIRTHDAY: 9/11.. Why do you need this

PRONOUNS: She/her

TIMEZONE: PST

02. In Character

CHARACTER: Alastor Moody

CHARACTER’S PRONOUNS: he/him

FACECLAIM: Charlie Hunnam

CHARACTER’S BIRTHDAY: November 5th

PERSONALITY: Let’s go with 6 personality traits, and throw some negatives and positives into both of them.

Decisive

He’s not one to linger over decisions. He decides where he aligns very quickly and sticks with it unless something contrary smacks him upside the head. This includes but is not limited to how he feels about people, his alcohol of choice, and what fruit to toss in his bag for a backup snack later.

He’s a creature of habit. A lot of decisions he’s made are because they work (or because they’ve worked once).. Or even the other way around. He ate shrimp and got food poisoning once? Alright, forget shrimp, who needs it anyway.

He can usually fit things into neat boxes. We’ve got good, bad. Any shades of gray are tossed right into the bad. Better safe than sorry, after all.

Steadfast

Once he commits to something, he’s gonna do it. Doesn’t matter if it seems impossible, he’ll figure out a way. This can and definitely does lead him into some messy situations, especially because he’ll sidestep some rules to do it.

He’ll often butt heads with people who feel differently than him. It is very possible for him to argue for hours over something. He likes to think that eventually, enough reason will make someone change their mind. So yeah, he’s the old dude that gets into facebook arguments with the person who posted an anti-vaxx article. And then he’ll spend the next hour grumbling about it to everyone around him.

He’s not easily won over by the ups and downs of mass media. Whatever the hell Amazon did now is gonna have no sway on whether or not that HDMI cable is getting delivered to his place.

He can be a very strong pillar in times of doubt. He might not be the warmest, but he definitely is there to remind you you’re doing the right thing. Or call you out when you’re being a shit.

Extroverted

He gets energy from being around people. It helps him keep his head straight when he’s with company he enjoys. A lot of his friendships are built on mutual respect and bickering.  His sense of humor has grown a little twisted over the years.

That being said, he picks and chooses who he trusts very carefully. People fit in very specific roles and tend to learn about him accordingly. It’s very possible that those he works with might not know about his sexuality or that he adopted a dog last year. He tries to keep talk of work out of his romantic relationships, which has definitely led to a weird encounter or two when they stumble across his guns.

He can be pretty candid in situations and knows how to deal with the consequences of his actions/words… or at least he thinks he does.

Adventurous

He can be a bit of a thrill seeker. He’s spent a lot of his younger years with various adventure sports and enjoys the outdoors. Mountain biking, hiking, ziplining, skydiving, paragliding, and outdoor climbing have been a thing.

He’s been in a shit mood about his injuries fucking up his ability to do some of what he’s used to. He has definitely had to reassess his limits, but… he definitely gets a rush out of pushing himself to his limits.

The rush can come inside a city, too. He isn’t the type to sit still and is always poking his nose into something.

Obsessive

He can be very single-minded and has a tendency to hyperfixate. Often times, his cases take the spotlight (at the moment, it’s about The Dungeon). It can be hard for him to pull away even when work is over. He’ll spend his free time doing research, recon, lining up clues. This leads to a lot of falling asleep at his desk and then waking up with a bad neck.

Sometimes he’ll sidestep his own care while doing it. His leg, for example, definitely needs some attention every day. He’ll eat rushed meals just so he can get done faster.

The obsessions can def go somewhere else. He’ll get a crockpot and spend 3 weeks trying out different recipes and make more servings than can fit in his tupperware.

He has a lot of miscellaneous knowledge of random things.

Idealistic

His niece dragged him out to watch Captain America: Civil War a couple years back when he was visiting (shut up). Since then, Captain America is his fav superhero (fuck off, he’s never gonna say this out loud). He likes a man who knows his good from his bad and sticks up for his ideals. Doesn’t matter what the government says, what the red tape is. You should know where you stand.

This does mean that he has unreasonable standards for the world, sometimes. He can expect it to be… Better than it is. He feels the presence of the younger order members a lot and considers it a personal failure that they’re involved. The ‘adults’ should be handling this on their own.

He tends to hold himself to a higher standard, often involving pushing himself beyond his limits. He struggled a lot with losing his leg, since he still wants to do everything he could before.

BRIEF BULLET POINT BIO:

Irene Moody likes to blame her gray hair on Alastor. Honestly? She might not be wrong. A healthy baby boy should not have found himself in as much trouble as her son did. But where there’s a will, there’s a way– he’s a Moody, after all. The young Alastor collected bruises, scabs, and scraped knees like most boys collected comic books. Hell, she’d even bought a stack of them in the hopes that he’d sit down. It’d worked for the month that it took him to read through them all, and then he was jumping off beds with the sheets tied off as a cape.

It’s a good thing his mother is a nurse because the boy found himself back in the hospital on a monthly basis. His father claims that they could have bought a yacht with how many bills piled up, but as a writer, he’s always been a man of hyperboles. Alastor never quite minded the hospital atmosphere when he was younger. He’d lay back on his bed with his eyes open to all the possibilities in the white walls.

Their cozy little apartment was never quiet, between the two kids squabbling over toys, the radio cranked up to full volume in the kitchen, and the TV buzzing in the living room. His father was possibly the only person in the family who could keep an inside voice for longer than an hour. Alastor likes to think that things have calmed down since then, but their yearly Christmas gatherings show otherwise.

With a sister 3 years his elder, Alastor’s the baby of the family but was never quite treated like it. In fact, he complains that he got all of the problems with being the youngest with none of the benefits. Marie would argue back that he never actually fetched anything she asked him to so he’s not allowed to complain.  The pair would argue over everything, only ever aligning on the decision to get pizza for dinner. Leaving them alone always led to markers to the wall, ruined cushions, shredded bedsheets and, if their parents were unlucky, a food fight. Prank wars were not uncommon in the Moody household.

As a child, he picked up on concepts quickly, but would have a hard time keeping focus. His grades fluctuated as he danced from subject to subject. When he looks back, all he remembers are his red hot ears, ringing, and unable to process the long lectures from his father. Once they began, they never quite stopped. He began to dread the updating of the progress sheets that were fixed to the fridge, with more frowny stickers than smiling ones.

Alastor his report card once. He’d lied and said it’s delayed while forging his mother’s signature. For the month after, he held his breath around his parents, waiting for it to come around and smack him in the face. Miraculously enough, it never did. His sister likes to blackmail him with it even now.

At age ten, he discovered the Hardy Boys. Despite all his indecision, he latched onto the concept of becoming a detective and never looked back. The boy collected memorabilia and had about 3 different magnifying glasses. Grabbing his dad’s glasses from the other room became the mystery of the missing spectacles. Figuring out what to wear became the Closet Case. There was an unfortunate year where he insisted on wearing a detective hat at all times. He’s tried to consolidate and burn all the evidence, but a few pictures keep coming out of the woodwork… another mystery.

The kid never quite managed straight As, but he excelled where he applied himself. A little elbow grease and some late nights set him up for an admission at Hogwarts. Hit parents never quite got off his back about his performance, however, slipping away to college made it easy to unsavory hide the bits and pieces. He quickly picked a major in criminology and settled into it.

The music minor wasn’t planned. In truth, it was him foolishly following a crush into a entry level piano class. He fell in love that year. With piano, with music theory II, with the history of rock 101.

Before he knew it, his college years were over and he was thrust into a job in law enforcement. With his sights set on detective and an unwavering determination, he muscled his way into the role within a few years.  They blur together quickly as he hops from case to case, head bent down, crease between his eyebrows and small frown on his face. His days and nights are spent wrapped up in his newest obsession.

Never one to turn down a good adrenaline rush, Alastor took to adventure sports quickly. At first, it was simply a few good hikes and some mountain biking, but outdoor rock climbing, hang gliding, and bungee jumping quickly became favorites. He’d poke and prod people into trying things out.

Alastor’s the type of person who’s cut out for being a detective. He’s the type who can’t sit still when he knows he can be doing something. It’s probably why he keeps going back. The first accident involved losing his eye. The second, breaking his nose. The third, his leg’s amputation. Plenty of scars and bruises litter the spaces in between. Each time, he was put on desk duty and each time, he found a way to remind his peers that he’s still up for the job.  The loss of his leg’s still fresh but the invitation to join Operation Auror is one that he’s meant for.

Misc Headcanons/Thoughts

His colleagues are pretty smh because he keeps getting hurt and coming right back. There’s a betting pool somewhere about wtf Moody’s gonna end up getting himself into next.

He’s actually a bit of a klutz since losing his eye.

He adopted his dog, so he didn’t name her. But he really wants a dog named Jovi

His sister lives in America and his parents spend most of their time there

He has a really nice sound system set up in his place

He can play piano, guitar and is currently learning the flute

He has a bad habit of biting his nails

INTERVIEW:

i. How do you feel about your current occupation?

“Alright, kid,” Alastor starts gruffly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, looking down at his niece. A flicker of regret flashes across the ten year old’s face as she sits in front of him, worksheet in hand. He grins and gets going before she has a chance to pick someone else to interview. “Let’s get one thing straight. If I didn’t like this job, I wouldn’t be doing it. You’re gonna be hearing this damn debate your whole life.” He puts on a voice as he continues, pulling a face as he mocks the voices that he remembers looking up to as a child. “Do something you love so you’ll be happy. No, you don’t need happiness in work, just stability. Blah, blah, blah. It’s all bull. Do what works for you. You’re the only one who knows what you need… This job, though? With what I’ve got going on’d, it’d drive a guy crazy if he didn’t live for it. ”

ii. What song would you say describes yourself?

“Ah…” He trails off, scratching his beard as he thinks over it. “Ya ever heard of Akimbo? It’s by Stradeus. This beat that gets me every damn time, you can feel it in your bones. Actually, hey Google.” Alastor leans back, squinting a little to see if it lights up in response. “Play Akimbo.” He nods and sits up a little more as the music fills the room. “You can just feel the tension build in this song. It just keeps going, and going, like when you know you’re onto something.” He holds up a hand, listening, forcing his niece to sit through the rest. “And right there in the middle, it backs off, for maybe just a second to breathe. Everything’s just still, pulling itself back together, then we’re going hard again.” His fingers strum against his thigh along with the music as he squints down at his niece’s page. “What’s next.”

iii. Does reputation matter to you?

“I mean I’ve done plenty and people better damn well respect that. But you’re not gonna find me tripping over my feet trying to kiss ass for approval, if that’s what you’re asking.” He’s been told it might make things easier, sometimes, especially with all the damn red tape in the department. Alastor, mind your own business. Don’t be so rude. Be careful about how you approach them. But then, maybe in the end it just comes down to the question of how well you’re willing to compromise yourself just to take the easy way out.

iv. What is your relationship with your parents like?

Alastor doesn’t answer this question immediately. Like any relationship, it’s changed over the years, and peeling back the layers is a process that could take a couple hours in it of itself. His parents have always pushed him to be his best, whether that be in grades or etiquette. He’s taken some of the lessons, shunted others, but there’s no denying that he wouldn’t be the man he is today if not for them. But none of that is a conversation for their grandkid. “Not bad. They in your hair, kid? Get overbearing sometimes, don’t they?” he asks, deflecting any further questions.

v. What languages can you speak?

“I had to learn French in high school, but that’s a bit rusty. Damn French people get annoyed when we use English and then get snarky when we use broken French. Can’t win unless you figure out how to dislodge the sticks from their asses. Anyway, I picked up some German a couple years back when I was working on a case. Mmm, that’s about it.” He pauses, then frowns, as he thinks about the ex who taught him some Arabic, but that was only enough to figure out when her parents were talking about him.

vi. If your home was on fire and you could only save one item, what would you choose?

“We’re going to use the term 'item’ loosely and say Luna.” He gives a small nod towards the dog asleep on the rug by the… fireplace. He frowns. “Oi, that wasn’t a hint, was it? Go put out the fire and turn on the heater.” He responds to her hesitation by picking up his cane and knocking her legs gently.  He has to smother a smile as she grumbles and gets up. “Go. I’ll wait.”

vii. Which Hogwarts University faculty did you study at? The Gryffindor School of Applied Science, the Ravenclaw School of Humanities, the Slytherin School of Social Science, or the Hufflepuff School of Art?

“Slytherin, criminology. Want to know the secret, though?” He leans in a little, smiling playfully, and doesn’t wait for an affirmation before going on. “There’s a bit of puff in there. Did a minor in music. See, now get what I mean about the what you love, what makes money debate? I’ve heard everyone talk shit about the other twenty times over.”

vix. What is your social media username?

“AlastorMoody. Luckily I’ve got a unique name, so it wasn’t taken. Not gonna lie, if I had to come up with some nonsense, I wouldn’t have made one.” He might enjoy the avenue for arguing with people online, but any butchering of his name leaves him cringing. His unique name has opened up to more ridiculous puns than he knows how to respond to. Alastor shakes off the thought and continues. “Let me know if you take a look, there are definitely a few articles I’ve linked to that I think you should read.”