#And weirdly enough an increased energy level
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elazul-sasayaki · 1 month ago
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So, much to my delight, I seem to have regained a little bit of my lost weight (only a few pounds) and it has stuck for about a week now.
I feel pretty good about it, and hope I can regain the rest in a reasonably short amount of time. And then maybe gain even more. ~w~
I mean, I would absolutely love to regain it in an -unreasonably- short amount of time, but I have neither the resources nor in-person support to properly pull that off...
Need an eating coach/feeder/high-grade enabler in order to eat enough for that. >.>;;;
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angelfleurry · 2 months ago
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I have a request for ya! How about Leon with a S/O who is quiet and reserved around most, but around him and people they are close to they become a bit of a chatterbox?
Leon Kuwata x Quiet! Reserved! S/O Who is a Chatterbox Around Close Company:
Hi, Anon!! Sorry this took so long. I feel like Leon is slightly out of character so aa I'm sorry. Thank you for requesting <3
~~
♡ If there’s one thing you should know about Leon, it’s that he’s glad to have met both sides of you.
♡ He loves the fact you’ve gotten so comfortable with him as to be able to become talkative, and he enjoys seeing you be that way with your close friends/family too.
♡ It’s such a welcome addition to the person he used to know on surface-level.
♡ Your talkativeness was not a spontaneous thing, it had happened slowly over the course of your comfort towards Leon.
♡ He honestly got really excited when you started warming up to him enough to express yourself.
♡ When he’d finally noticed the level of familiarity increase between the two of you, he was just like “This is so sweet!”
♡ But like a “Hell yeah!” kind of sweet.
♡ Although, sometimes he forgets how withdrawn you can be until you’re around unfamiliar people.
♡ It actually gives him whiplash sometimes.
♡ He feels weirdly protective over you in these social situations?
♡ Not like crazy level protective, but he feels an urge to be close to you as these interactions take place.
♡ Not in a controlling way, no no.
♡ He just feels this weird pull to be around you.
♡ Probably just wants to be close by to be more of a supporter?
♡ It’s not like you’re incapable! You can talk to others, you’re just quiet.
♡ But, this is Leon, and Leon wants to be by your side.
♡ Probably questions why you’re so quiet at first before realising though.
♡ He has no desire to change you, per say.
♡ This is just who you are, and it’s perfectly normal.
♡ But, it makes him appreciate your talkativeness towards him so much more.
♡ One of his favourite things is to just let you talk, enthusiastically nodding along.
♡ Conversing with you is super fun!
♡ He matches your energy quite well sometimes, especially if you’re both energised or passionate about the topic!
♡ It’s not just physically that you’re chatty, but over text too.
♡ You use exclamation marks galore, capitals, and instead of a paragraph text it’s block after block after block of itty bitty messages.
♡ Sometimes it bugs him with how often his phone goes off, but then he looks and sees it’s you and it’s actually not an issue at all.
♡ Enjoys watching the notifications roll in before he actually responds.
♡ Watching you adjust in a group chat is such an experience.
♡ You go from saying a few words and merely reading the chat to yapping whenever you want to and it always makes him smile.
♡ He loves you so much oh my
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donnerpartyofone · 2 years ago
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The last month or so was one of the hardest times I can remember having. My baseline setting is high anxiety and depression, and then once in a while I have these hardcore crashes where I'm just so grief-stricken I can't even move, which is what happened for about the last 48 hours. I felt like I was starting to get over it last night, and then I woke up to find that my tinnitus is twice as bad as it was. Tinnitus, which I've had for around six years, and which is the reason I cannot take any psych meds, as they all make it worse, which makes my depression and anxiety functionally drug-resistant. I would say the tinnitus was usually at a manageable level; when it first started I thought I was going to die, but I eventually accepted it as a background noise I could deal with. All I had to do was avoid thinking about the description people sometimes give of tinnitus, that it's when you "can't hear silence", which makes me profoundly sad and I wish I never heard it. But anyway, then the "manageable" ringing in my ear picks this exact time to become twice as loud as it's ever been. It *could* be related to all the stress; I saw a tmj specialist who thinks that the extreme neck and jaw tension I developed while working at *m*z*n could be the trouble. He's making a bite guard and he gave me a bunch of exercises and massages to do, but then the ensuing month became so harrowing that it just wasn't a good time to test out the efficacy of that stuff, like nothing could possibly reduce this tension. And the tinnitus increase could also be yet another stroke of my signature "bad luck". I don't know which is worse. I hate being told that my problems are due to stress; I mean some things like sleep disturbance, ok fine that's tough to argue, but I have a lot of persistent incompetence with normal tasks and when people insist that my only problem is that I'm psyching myself out, I find that incredibly condescending and ignorant. It shits all over the hours I spend researching the task, practicing the task, getting outside help to teach me the task, and promising myself not to get upset if I can't do the task perfectly right away. It's just easier for people to believe that the problem is with my attitude, than that I might have a Real Problem of any kind, and that actually hurts to hear. As if my problems as-described are so bad that they are literally unbelievable to people, that's pretty bad news. But I digress. I can't believe this is happening on top of everything else. I have to do laundry. I have to change the sheets. I have to clean the house. I have to host an event next week, and the last time I did it was such a nightmare that I don't really feel "ready" to try again. I have to do complicated, time-sensitive editing on a collaborative writing project, and I have to finish another writing project that's kind of overdue, and I don't know where I'm supposed to find the focus or energy for any of that. And suddenly all I can think of is the face of this guy who taught an online meditation class (one of several such classes I've taken to try to deal with my unmedicatable psychological issues) during the pandemic, who had the nerve to declare that ringing in the ears means that like the Other Side is communicating with you, and I was stupid and annoyed enough to say actually I have tinnitus and it's definitely because of some warped problem with my neck and jaw, like I can feel it in my ear, and then he just INSISTED that I tell him I'm having a spiritual experience instead of a miserable physical malfunction, to the point that finally I stopped responding because I had said what I meant already, and he had to weirdly trail off and change the subject in front of everyone. I bet that if I got to punch that guy in the face, then all my stress would go away spontaneously, and I wouldn't have any problems for the rest of my life.
I have woken up with my ear ringing so loud and I'm trying so hard not to panic
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hotwings0203 · 4 years ago
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I feel like Dabi would be the type of dude who would bully you incessantly at the LOV and for the life of you you can’t figure out why. He’s always around you and making snarky comments or pulling your hair, trying to catch you messing up on missions. You’re sure he hates you, and you do well to stay out of his way, or sometimes when you feel bold you’ll offer a quip of your own. The bullying increases whenever you talk to other guys at the bar, especially when you make Tomura crack a smile, Dabi’s breathing down your neck the second your leader leaves, calling you terrible names and pushing past your boundaries.
Cw: language, nsfw, noncon, manga spoilers, some angst?
In a perfect world, Touya would not have been abandoned and rejected by his family. In a perfect world, Dabi would not exist, and Touya would be eating dinner with his family right now as he shows his little brother how to properly wield fire to its fullest extent.
But there was no such thing as a perfect world, and therefore Dabi did exist. And Dabi doesn’t care for anyone, or anything.
Or so he tells himself.
“Slut”
“Nothing but eye candy, and shitty eye candy at that”
It’s nothing you haven’t heard before, but it doesn’t make it any easier to ignore him
“What was that all about, huh? The fuck are you and crusty snickering about?”
Fed up with his continuous antics, you decide to mouth off a little too.
“Oh nothing, just talking about how adorable you and Hawks would make as a couple. And wipe that sneer off your face, it looks like some of your staples fell out of your mouth.”
It’s nothing too snarky, but in a second he’s shoving you in some dark room, forearm pinned against your throat as his hand is lit up with blue flames merely inches away from you, snarling in your face.
“You wanna be funny, bitch? I got jokes of my own too, why dont I show you what happens to dumb little girls who don’t know their fucking place? I think that would be real funny.”
But his hand is stopped from drawing near your wide eyes when you both hear Twice and Toga calling everyone for their next meeting.
He pushes you away from him, giving you a murderous look over his shoulder as he leaves the room, not paying mind to the way you slide down the wall in the dark.
You take extra precaution to try avoiding him for the next few days, not even making eye contact with him when you two get teamed up for tasks. He never mentions the room incident, if anything he acts as if it never happens. It’s like whiplash for you, he tries to weirdly talk to you more but all you offer him is mumbles and hums of agreement.
The conversation is never long, but it starts to be less talk of degrading you and more of begrudging questioning of what you’ve been up to. You never engage, opting to pretend like you never heard him, and strangely enough he leaves it be.
You give him a side eye one day as he joins you at the bar (much to your discontent), downing your glass just to fill another.
He says nothing as he slides into the stool right next to you, and pours a glass of whiskey for himself as well.
It’s awkwardly silent, you’re not sure if you should leave or not, but you’d be damned if you try to initiate small talk with this psycho.
But then, he speaks.
“Is Shigaraki sending you on the mission to get that UA kid?”
His gravely voice rumbles and cracks from his usual lack of use, and he clears his throat after he talks.
“No.”
“Oh.”
This is excruciating, you think to yourself as he mulls over the drink in his hand for a silent minute or two.
Toga calls you over thankfully at the exact same moment, and you breathe out an inaudible sigh of relief as you slip off the stool to join her.
“Wait-“ Dabi grabs your arm and you flinch out of instinct, expecting a slap or a burn to come from him.
He sees your reaction and shakes his head dismissively, letting you go and muttering a “Nevermind”. You don’t ponder over it as you trip over your own feet to join the eccentric blond.
A week passes, and then two. With each day you maneuver your way around him, request to be partnered up with different people in private, and busy yourself in random tasks. Every time you pass him by the bar he lifts his head from whatever he’s doing and tries to maintain eye contact with you, even going so far as to open his mouth to say or ask god-knows-what.
You try to ignore the foreign hopeful glint in his glacial eyes as you walk right past him, ducking your head as you do so.
It drives Dabi crazy.
He can’t handle any more rejection, he thought his family would be the last straw for him to ever want recognition or love validation from again. He wants to talk to you, to hear your voice as it snaps back with witty comebacks of your own that he secretly enjoys so much, even if it means he has to force it out of you with hateful words. He wants to feel your hair underneath his scarred hands, even if he has to mask the soft wanting of you in forms of yanking the strands. He wants nothing more than to see your eyes fill up with no other sight than him and think only of him, even if it means he has to corner you and scare you into submission.
But your silence is something he’s not used to.
Well, to be fair, you weren’t silent completely, but the only sentences he was hearing from you nowadays was when you were speaking to Shigaraki or the other League members.
You were the only idiot who didn’t notice the smoke curling from his nostrils and ears comically when he’d finally see you stop your stoic act just to open up to other men apart from him. Spinner, Twice, and Compress backed off almost immediately from talking to you for too long when they’d see the look on his face as he watched you surrounded by them, but Tomura would merely smirk from behind your shoulders and keep a level gaze with his subordinate, knowing fully well why he was so pissed off.
You began to notice the weird energy at the base soon after the rest of the men would keep curt conversations with you in comparison to your long talks about video games, sex, and life after you would all win the war.
So you thought it would be best to ask the most semi-normal person there that wasn’t fueled with testosterone and aggression.
“I just don’t get it, why are they all being weird? I mean, we all used to talk so much and now they just...try avoiding me. Except for Tomura of course, he’s still normal I guess. But he always has this smirk on his face when I’m with him and I can’t figure out why.”
Toga stops cleaning her blood-laced needle to give you a sly look, all fangs and glinting white.
“And Dabi?”
“What about him?”
She sits back on her haunches and cocks her head at you. “You really don’t know what’s happening here, do ya?”
“No,” you roll your eyes in exasperation. “But I’ll gladly take any theories here, since apparently I’m the only one who doesn’t get it.”
“He likes you.”
You gape at her for a moment and then burst out laughing.
“What? That’s crazy, he doesn’t like me, he hates me!” He can barely stand being in a room with me, all he does is talk shit and harass me.”
The blond curiously licks at a bead of red from the top of the weapon and you cringe when her own tongue rips from the sharp point.
“You say he can’t stand being in a room with you, so then why is it that he’s always there? He might talk shit, but he talks to you out of everyone else right? Regardless of if it’s something mean.”
You’re thoroughly flabbergasted. She had a point, but it was too much to wrap your head around. She cheerfully hums and gets up to flounce around the room, cleaning her already-tidy room up to a T.
“And that little silent treatment act you’re giving him isn’t helping either. I swear, Jin told me Dabi almost burned his mouth off that one day you, him and Spinner were talking about GTA. He totally cornered the poor guy and threatened his life if he didn’t stop talking to you.”
“You’re joking.”
“Am not. He wanted to do the same to Tomura but I figure he wants to keep his job, so he won’t. Doesnt make it any better for him when you’re all chummy with the one person Dabi can’t stand the most, though.”
No wonder your leader was so smug whenever you two were in the same room, your attention solely focused on him.
You run your hands down your face, moaning about the whole situation being fucked. It’s just your luck that you couldn’t take a clue, but to be fair, how could you? Being called worthless and a waste of space wasn’t exactly what you had in mind for flirty banter.
“Soooo what’re you gonna do now? I heard he’s gonna try talking to you for realsies like, tomorrow or something.”
“Tomorrow?” You yelp, jumping up to your feet. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I can’t face him!”
“Oops,” she giggles, twirling with outstretched arms around her room and falling down onto her bed.
“Oh god, I can’t do this. I don’t even know if I like him! He’s such an ass, and even when he tries to come off as normal he’s just so..unsettling. I don’t think I’ve ever had a good conversation with him.”
Toga props her elbow up to rest her chin on her hand, frowning in thought.
“Why not just tell him how you feel?”
You snort and fold your arms. “Yeah, because the psycho arsonist is really gonna take the word no well.”
“Hmm.. I see what you mean. Oh well, whatever you choose, I’ll support you!”
And with that she skips out of the room sing songing for Twice to make a clone for her.
You were fucked.
And sure enough, the next day he approaches you, hands stuffed in his pockets and an almost bored look on his face.
“Yo newbie, I gotta talk to you for a second. Come with me”.
You look blearily up at him through eye bags and mussed hair, a direct telling of your sleepless night. Your stomach drops when you hear his words, but you nod your head and take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself of the speech you practiced till the sun rose.
No one else is bothering you both today, Shigaraki having gone to visit All For One and the rest of the League left to their own devices. It was something you weren’t so comfortable with, but you doubted a hero would come to save you.
He leads you through the short winding hallways, each step of his growing louder and heavier as the space started growing smaller. Finally, he reaches a dimly lit room and stops outside the door, gesturing for you to go in with a casual wave of his patched wrist.
“After you.”
You raise an unsure eyebrow at his uncharacteristic show of consideration, and do as he says. You’re sweating bullets, fists balled so that your nails are digging into your palms, and vision going in and out of focus as your eyes begin to adjust to your surroundings.
A loud bang pulls you out of your stupor, and you whip around at the sound.
Dabi is already staring back at you with lidded eyes, leaning his weight against the door, his arms crossing over each other.
You shift on both feet, picking at your nails nervously.
“So, what did you wanna talk about?”
He says nothing, but just observes you, his head slightly tilted as if you were some abstract art piece.
“Dabi.”
“You got a lot of nerve, y’know that?”
He pushes himself off the wall and advances slowly towards you, hands stuffed in his trench coat pockets.
You immediately back up with raised palms, sputtering indignantly at his offensive movements coming closer and closer. However you thought his ‘confession’ would go, this was most definitely not starting out like how you planned
“Excuse me? What’re you talking about-“
“I know what you’re doing. You think whoring yourself out to ol’ crusty and the rest of the guys here is gonna make everyone forget just how useless you actually are. What the fuck do you even do here? You fuck up half the missions which I have to come bail your ass out of, you constantly put us in jeopardy by being all friendly with everyone, and you can’t even keep your mouth shut when I need to let off a little steam, as I rightfully should.”
In a perfect world, Dabi would be the light of your eyes, the hero of your world. In a perfect world, Dabi would be able to hold your hand in his smooth one and tell you that he wants you so much that it impairs his rational judgement and makes him say things he doesn’t mean. He’d tell you that your presence is like a weight lifted off his chest, your presence means he doesn’t have to think or worry about the outside world, he just wants you all to himself without anyone interfering.
But this is not a perfect world, and Dabi is not a hero, but rather one of the worst villains.
So he does exactly what one does as a villain.
Instead of a loving look that he knows he’s incapable of, Dabi looks down into your horrified gaze as he traps you against the wall between his scarred arms, spewing misplaced venom at you.
“I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to chill out. First you go ballistic on me ‘cause I talked to Tomura for no reason, then you act all weird and quiet as if you’re some decent person, and now you think you can just bring me in here and tell me how worthless I am? Go fuck yourself, seriously.”
You scoff and make your way to push him but stop when he does what he did a couple weeks ago. You hold bated breath as he casually brings an inflamed hand to scratch at his face as if he can’t feel the hellfire emitting from it, and let out a whine of distress as he lowers his head mere inches from yours, lips almost touching.
“Stop talking to the rest of the guys,” he breaths. “Stop smiling, laughing, or going near anyone who isn’t me.”
You wonder if he knows how insane he sounds. He does, but that’s nothing he doesn’t know already. If anything, it solidifies in his mind that if he is to be as bad as the world has made him out to be, then he is acting exactly fit for the role.
“Why?”
“I don’t need to give sluts like you a reason. It should come as easy, right? What’s putting out for one more person?”
Your eyes are brimming with tears now, your stoic facade showing cracks as you sniffle a little bit.
He eats it up and groans watching salty rivers cascade down your cheeks. Suddenly, he feels as though he can no longer hold back anymore, he feels as though if he thinks for one more second he’ll combust.
So, acting on instinct, he surges forward and presses his lips against yours, swallowing your cries of distress and holding your hands above your head in midst of them frantically beating on his chest.
Your lips are so, so soft compared to his and it’s making him sink deeper into this instinctual daze. He puffs against your writhing lips as he thrusts his hot tongue in your mouth.
You try to bite him but when his hands heat up against your skin you resign to your fate and wail, allowing him to pull his hips flush against yours and start humping your thighs.
He draws back and bites your lips, teeth clacking against yours as he does so. You open your terrified eyes and blanch when you see the look on his face.
Lust is clearly drawn everywhere, from his blown pupils to his heaving chest, all the way to his flushed face and wild eyes. He looks as though he’s about to eat you alive and it’s appropriate that you feel like a lamb about to be slaughtered.
“Dabi, wait, please stop-“
But he cuts your pants off again in favor of slamming his hips against yours again and grinding impossibly hard on your legs, the friction of his jeans catching on your clothed cunt and forcing a mewl out of you.
“I’m not gonna stop. I’ve had enough of you teasing. You’re mine now, and if it takes burning our dear leader alive and this whole place down for you to understand that then I’ll fucking do it.”
He thought that terrorizing you would ease the empty feeling in his heart, that continuously berating you would force him to see you as what he always said you were, just another empty headed cunt. He thought that distancing himself from you and focusing on other things would make him forget about the soft feelings he longed to share with you, feelings he thought perished in the fire he was in when he was a young boy .
Even now, there is an ache in his chest as he hears you beg for him to stop, to let you go, that you’re sorry for whatever you did.
But this is not a perfect world, and not everyone gets their way in life.
You should really learn that, because Dabi already has.
And so Dabi will act accordingly to what life has put out before him .
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violettelueur · 4 years ago
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RYŌMEN SUKUNA || PROUD
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| featuring : ryōmen sukuna from jujutsu kaisen
| warnings : grammar errors, swearing and mentions of injuries, blood and death.
| form : imagine
| word count : 1574
| published : 18 november
| request : Aaaa,, I really love your Sukuna imagines! Can I request an Imagine where it’s related to ‘kind hearted’, the reader gets hurt and sukuna gets upset? Thank you so much! Keep up with the great work!! 💞🦦
| barista’s notes : let me admit this, i’m not confident with this imagine ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ i tried changing it a few times but i was really doubting myself every time and this was the result of it, so i’m so sorry if you don’t like it ʕ; •`ᴥ•´ʔ also i’m not really good with fight scenes so if there are any advices that can be given to me, thank you so much ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ i hope you love your classic cup of black coffee and come again soon!
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To say that you were screwed was more than an understatement. 
Right now wasn’t the ideal situation to be in for any jujutsu sorcerer that wasn’t Gojo’s level.
At this moment and time, standing in front of you was a special grade curse.
What made the situation worse was that Kugisaki was separated from the whole group making the mission more complicated than it needed to be.
“Itadori! Fushiguro! Go find Kugisaki and find the exit to the building, I’ll keep the curse in place!” you demanded, as you knew you didn’t have much time to explain the risky plan you came up with.
“Are you crazy? It’s a special grade there is no way you could defeat it right now!” Fushiguro shouted, trying to know what was going on in your head, thinking that you were utterly crazy for what you just stated to him and his classmate.
“I don’t care! Look, it’s having fun and underestimating us meaning it will use weaker attacks on me, buying time shouldn’t be too hard, just give me a signal when you and Itadori are safe, okay?”
Looking at you with widen eyes, Fushiguro continued to look at you like you had gone completely insane before closing them to clear his mind. What you were saying had much sense in it. Compared to the remaining people in the room, you were the one that had the most potential to defeat the special grade curse if you could, even when you and him were both grade two sorcerers. 
“Okay,” Fushiguro muttered quietly - still reluctant to leave you - before turning around and grabbing Itadori to go along with your plan, leaving you completely alone to defend yourself.
Turning back around to look at your opponent, you reached to the side of your hip to grip on the halt of your katana before slowly pulling the sword out from its sheath. From what you could observe, this special grade wasn’t a normal special grade, there was no way it could be deemed one yet it was. From what was going on around you, the curse hadn’t been able to construct a complete Domain Expansion, more of an Innate Domain at best making you come to the conclusion that it must have eaten a cursed object at best to become as powerful as it is - most likely Sukuna’s finger for one example.
Lifting your sword in front of you, you aimed the pointed tip at your opponent before tilting your head to the side to see what else you could observe from your distance.
“Would cutting your head off look best or would cutting both of your arms first be more sufficient?”
Of course, the curse couldn’t reply to you leaving it to only physically answered you with an immense amount of curse energy forming within the palm of its hand, ready to throw it at you.
“Looks like your arms are the first thing I gotta get rid of,” you answered yourself, as you quickly dodging the attack, only to suddenly appear in front of your opponent, leaving yourself enough space to swing your sword down to fully slash its left arm off as you then went ahead and spun behind its body to slice off the other off before pulling yourself back to gain some distance away from the curse.
However, what you had completely forgotten was that special grade curses were able their curse energy to heal themselves, as the curse’s arms suddenly regenerated as if you didn’t cut them off seconds before.
“Damn, I should have gotten your head first ha?” you rhetorically questioned, before using your free hand to pull a long black chain out of your pocket and attaching one end to the hilt of your katana. “Let’s see how fast you can catch,” you commented, as you then threw your katana while aiming for it’s head, using your curse energy to increase the speed it was going at. However, much to your dismay the curse unexpectantly grabbed onto the metal blade, leaving you no choice but to let your curse energy slowly flow through the chain all the way up to the blade causing a large red orb form at the end, quickly exploding before the curse could even react to stop it.
Swiftly, you pulled the chain back so you could retrieve your sword only to then suddenly see the smoke clearing and a large wave of curse energy coming towards your direction.
“Shit!”
In sheer panic, you use your feet to push yourself to the right to move away from the blast before your whole vision was concealed by the rubble and dust. 
Pain. That was all you felt. Pure pain. 
Were you going to die? Wasn’t you expecting that once you told both your classmates to find Kugisaki and run? You couldn’t lie to yourself, it was too painful to think about death right now. You couldn’t think straight at all.
Once the smoked cleared, all that the special curse could see was your standing figure panting heavily with your left sleeve completely gone due to the blast as blood gushed down your left arm. You had barely managed to get yourself out of the hands of instant death and luckily nothing of your body was disintegrated, just some burns and cuts here and there - to say it was surprising to see you standing was an understatement.
“From our battle so far, you lack the form of curse technique, but you still can pack a punch, ah it hurts,”
The blood loss was getting to you. Yes, having no limbs was not the better option but you could still live with that. What humans couldn’t do was stay alive with no blood and here you were quickly losing your live source the flowed in your body. You couldn’t even cover the wound as there was nothing you could cover it with and even if you did, the wound was too large to be covered. 
You were losing the strength to stand.
You were losing your balance.
You were losing consciousness.
Suddenly, you heard a loud sound of a howl from a distance. Instantly, you knew that Fushiguro and Itadori were able to find Kugisaki and get out. It was his signal. 
However, you weren’t so lucky in that factor, from the state that you were in, there was no way in hell you were able to escape now - but you were okay with that. If the other’s were safe, that was better than not knowing if they made it out alive. Slowly, you were starting to lose the feeling in your legs, causing you to completely losing your balance.
‘Damn,’ you thought, as you felt your whole body suddenly dropping leaving you no strength left to even brace for the impact, leaving you to close your eyes and admitting defeat.
However, just as you were able to fall to the ground, you suddenly felt a pair of arms catching you before you were quickly lifted up bridal style and pulled into a warm embrace surprising you completely from the sudden comfort of what you thought was your lonely end. Who was still in the building? You thought everyone got out, so who was carrying you right now?
From your limited sight, you could slowly make out someone in a dark uniform similar to the colour you wore, meaning it had to be someone from the team. However, the extreme pressure of curse energy that was somewhat suffocating you determined otherwise - no one within the area right now had this much power, no one at all. Unless…..
“Were you the one that caused this?”
Sukuna…
All you could hear right now a shaking tone as well as the couple droplets of water that was within the Innate Domain that surrounded you.
“For a grade two sorcerer, she really blew half of your body up with that little curse technique she used on you, I’m quite proud of my little one,” Sukuna uncharacteristically complimented you, as he gently pressed a little kiss on top of your head before gently smiling at you - knowing you won’t be able to see this rare expression on his face.
“You see, I’ve grown fond of this little human in my arms right now, and for you to do this much damage to her body, really weirdly angers me,” Sukuna stated before he turned around and began to walk away. “Wait there for a quick second would you? I need to take care of this one right now,” Sukuna commented, before gently placing you down at a safe spot to which he then started to use his curse energy to quickly heal your wound once he sat you up straight. 
Brushing away some of the hairs that were in your face, Sukuna placed one last light lingering kiss on your forehead before saying, “I’m proud of you, just wait a little longer, I’ll be back,”.
What was going on?
This had to be a hallucination. There was no question about that. There was no way Sukuna could have saved you let alone kissed you in any way. This was all a hallucination. Wasn’t it?
However, you didn’t have the power to stay awake any longer, resulting you to surrender to the tiredness that was taking over you, letting the darkness invade your whole surroundings, but not before letting out a little mutter under your breath.
‘Proud ha?’
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mednerds · 4 years ago
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The Mammalian Brain Starts Eating Itself When It Doesn't Get Enough Sleep
by BEC CREW (Science Alert). Image Credit: Corey Brickley.
The need for sleep goes far beyond simply replenishing our energy levels every 12 hours. Our brains actually change states when we sleep to clear away the toxic byproducts of neural activity left behind during the day.
Weirdly enough, research on mice has revealed the same process starts to occur in brains that are chronically sleep-deprived too - except it's kicked into hyperdrive.
Researchers have found that persistently poor sleep causes the brain to clear a significant amount of neurons and synaptic connections, and recovering sleep might not be able to reverse the damage.
In 2017, a team led by neuroscientist Michele Bellesi from the Marche Polytechnic University in Italy examined the mammalian brain's response to poor sleeping habits, and found a bizarre similarity between the well-rested and sleepless mice.
Like the cells elsewhere in your body, the neurons in your brain are being constantly refreshed by two different types of glial cell - support cells that are often called the glue of the nervous system.
The microglial cells are responsible for clearing out old and worn out cells via a process called phagocytosis - meaning "to devour" in Greek. The astrocytes' job is to prune unnecessary synapses (connections) in the brain to refresh and reshape its wiring.
We've known that this process occurs when we sleep to clear away the neurological wear and tear of the day, but now it appears that the same thing happens when we start to lose sleep.
But rather than being a good thing, the brain goes overboard with the clearing, and starts to harm itself instead.
Think of it like the garbage being cleared out while you're asleep, versus someone coming into your house after several sleepless nights and indiscriminately tossing out your television, fridge, and family dog.
"We show for the first time that portions of synapses are literally eaten by astrocytes because of sleep loss," Bellesi told Andy Coghlan at New Scientist.
To figure this out, the researchers imaged the brains of four groups of mice:
one group was left to sleep for 6 to 8 hours (well-rested)
another was periodically woken up from sleep (spontaneously awake)
a third group was kept awake for an extra 8 hours (sleep-deprived)
and a final group was kept awake for five days straight (chronically sleep-deprived).
When the researchers compared the activity of the astrocytes across the four groups, they identified it in 5.7 percent of the synapses in the well-rested mouse brains, and 7.3 of the spontaneously awake mouse brains.
In the sleep-deprived and chronically sleep-deprived mice, they noticed something different: the astrocytes had increased their activity to actually eating parts of the synapses like microglial cells eat waste - a process known as astrocytic phagocytosis.
In the sleep-deprived mouse brains, the astrocytes were found to be active across 8.4 percent of the synapses, and in the chronically sleep-deprived mice, a whopping 13.5 percent of their synapses showed astrocyte activity.
As Bellesi told New Scientist, most of the synapses that were getting eaten in the two groups of sleep-deprived mice were the largest ones, which tend to be the oldest and most heavily used - "like old pieces of furniture" - which is probably a good thing.
But when the team checked the activity of the microglial cells across the four groups, they found that it had also ramped up in the chronically sleep-deprived group.
And that's a worry, because unbridled microglial activity has been linked to brain diseases like Alzheimer's and other forms of neurodegeneration.
"We find that astrocytic phagocytosis, mainly of presynaptic elements in large synapses, occurs after both acute and chronic sleep loss, but not after spontaneous wake, suggesting that it may promote the housekeeping and recycling of worn components of heavily used, strong synapses," the researchers report.
"By contrast, only chronic sleep loss activates microglia cells and promotes their phagocytic activity ... suggesting that extended sleep disruption may prime microglia and perhaps predispose the brain to other forms of insult."
Many questions remain, such as if this process is replicated in human brains, and if catching up on sleep can reverse the damage.
But the fact that Alzheimer's deaths have increased by an incredible 50 percent since 1999, together with the struggle that many of us have in getting a good night's sleep, means this is something we need to get to the bottom of - and fast.
The research has been published in the Journal of Neuroscience.
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proudfreakmetarusonikku · 3 years ago
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How about an au where punz doesn't show up during the disc War final
That was one of the first AUs I ever planned out in my head, eventually getting refined into my protege!innit AU. So here you go my lovely anon, here’s the concept, slightly refined. (Also, quick warning that Tommy does use some accidentally ableist language in this! Also, this is INCREDIBLY dark)
Tommy clung onto the headless body of Tubbo desperately, sobbing and sobbing and praying for somehow a way for him to come back, his cries echoing throughout the underground vault the only sound. Hands grasping onto his hair, stern but not harsh, barely brought him back into reality.
Dream sighed. “Tommy. Follow me.”
“No.”
His hair was tugged, harshly. “What do you mean, no?”
“No. I’m not coming with you.”
Dream held out the bloodstained axe, dripping with Tubbo's blood. It nearly made Tommy sick to see it again. “You don’t have a choice. Come with me or you will die here.”
“Maybe that's what I want! Maybe I’d rather die and be with Wilbur and Tubbo than be your fucking toy to torture or whatever!” Tommy shouted, the broken voice echoing.
Dream sighed again. “If you’re going to be difficult…”
The axe handle hit Tommy's head. All went black.
He woke up in a cell too dark and too bright, suffocatingly small and blistering hot with the heat of the lava. The yellow orange red mix was mesmerising. It should be so so easy to just touch it and end everything and go to whatever came after. It must be better than being a psycho bastard's personal punching bag.
He passed out from the pain when he tried to stand. He woke, again in the bed in the cell. It was surprisingly comfortable, better than the bed he had managed to put together in exile, and he hated it. That implied a level of permanence to his hell.
Wilbur's coat was gone, he noticed. He was pretty sure he was in a different set of clothes, too. He would not have the time to worry about those things soon.
(Meanwhile, a skull with ram horns and a bloodsoaked red and white hoodie and a patchwork longcoat wash up on the shores one day. They are taken to a home where a half-exploded beanie sits waiting for its wearer, and there are three extra seats at the table that will never be filled.)
Tommy had no idea how long he was alone in the cell. It could have been hours, days, weeks, an eternity. Time meant nothing, anymore. He still felt far too sick to leave the bed, the headache and bleeding from when his head was hit barely getting any better along with him feeling weaker and weaker, desperate for any water, any food.
He was certain he was going to die when he, half conscious, heard footsteps and was sat up on the headboard. Water was held to his lips, his throat and lips so dry he could barely take sips. When he’d finished the bottle, he was hand fed warm bread, so hungry it tasted like ambrosia on his tongue and so delirious he couldn’t even muster the energy to be angry he was being fed like an animal.
When warm hands were moved away, and he heard footsteps on the floor, Tommy let out a confused, animalistic chirp, barely aware what was going on but just knowing he didn’t want to be alone again. A laugh echoed from the walls, and a hand was run through his hair. Tommy leant in, purring like a cat. As he fell back into unconsciousness, all he could do was beg whoever was there in a voice scratchy and barely audible to please, please not leave him alone again.
He didn’t dream anymore. That was too much thought, hurting his head and making him almost sick, though he didn’t have enough food in him to be sick anymore. He just let himself be consumed by the darkness, and he slept well for the first time in a while.
He was alone again when he woke. Almost alone. A ghostly figure sat cross-legged at the lava keeping him prisoner, the green of his shirt almost invisible through the red stained blood, and his head in his hands and not on his neck. Tommy wasn’t sure if he was going mad already or if this was like Ghostbur, but either way he felt less alone with the ghostly form of Tubbo with him.
Ghost Tubbo disappeared when the lava parted, Dream entering into Tommy's prison. Tommy glared at the masked man, and he laughed. “Last time I was here, you were begging me to stay.”
Tommy felt himself turn red slightly at the memory of that, but continued glaring. “Fuck off.”
“Tommy, don’t speak to me like that or you’re not going to be able to eat today.” Dream said, with the tone Wilbur got when he used to tell off Tommy when he was doing something stupid. It made Tommy's blood boil.
“I don’t care,” he said, even as his throat ached and stomach throbbed. “Just let me die.”
Dream shook his head. “You’re too fun.”
Tommy growled. “And you’re a fucking sociopa-“
Tommy's cut off to hands around his neck, claws digging in deep enough to bleed. “I’d advise you listen, Tommy.” Dream said, voice as cheerily calm as always. “Or I’ll make you listen.”
Tommy sputtered for breath when his neck was released. “What do you want?”
“I just want to spend time with my only friend. Is that so hard to believe?” He laughs at Tommy's disbelieving expression, looking for the hidden meaning in the words. “You’re going to make this difficult, aren’t you? You know, things would be much easier if you stopped trying to defy me.”
(By the time Dream left, Tommy was holding a broken nose, black eyed and bruised, starving, and defiance in his eyes slightly dimmed.)
Life fell into a sickening routine. When Dream wasn’t there, Tommy slept. He was too dehydrated to cry anymore, so he just stared at the wall when he was awake. Ghost Tubbo was there, sometimes. When Tommy dared speak to him, he was mechanical, emotionless, entirely dedicated to protecting Tommy but painfully aware he couldn’t do anything but watch.
When Dream was, he’d bring food and water. Most of it ended up discarded, Tommy being deemed as too disobedient to deserve it. Sometimes he gave in and acted good being so desperate and hated himself for it. On those days, Dream talked with him, messed with his hair and hugged him and treated him with a twisted form of the affection Tommy recognised from Wilbur, or maybe Phil. On most days, Tommy was “punished.“
He’s not sure how long it took, but Tommy noticed as he slowly lost sight in one of his eyes as he took more and more blows to the head, how his left arm started hanging completely limp after being broken one too many times, how the web of scars covering his entire body only grew, both larger and deeper.
The first time Tommy died, it was unintentional. His head was hit against the obsidian, and something inside him broke, and he’s dead before he could even realise he’s dying. He wasn’t sure whether the afterlife is better or worse. It’s dark, and empty, and Wilbur is frightening, but there’s Tubbo- the Tubbo he knew, not the dull eyed ghost who as Tommy had learnt from Ghostbur was a separate entity.
It’s a month in the afterlife, apparently, before he’s brought back, the cell a mess of colour and noise and heat and touch and all of it too much, too much. Dream is excited, enthusiastic, asked him everything he can about the afterlife. Tommy refused to talk, and the slap across the face he received was a far, far, worse pain than gouging claws and broken limbs. He talked after that, through pained tears.
After that, it became a part of the routine he grew worryingly accustomed to. Like clockwork, every thirty visits he was killed, and like clockwork, he was always revived after one month in the afterlife, one day outside it. Dream asked him inane, weird questions about the afterlife. Sometimes he took Tommy's blood, sometimes he gave him weird injections. Dream was always weirdly kind on those days, and Tommy grew to long for them in a twisted way. He hated himself for it.
Bruises grew around his neck, refusing to heal. Deep deep cuts on his neck and his wrists stayed open, bleeding slightly when touched. Stab wounds and axe cuts covering his torso did the same. His hair turned white in chunks. Dream started dying it blond. It hurt and got into his wounds on his head. He learnt to tolerate it because when he squirmed and tried to get away it upset Dream and that's worse.
It’s easier to behave, so he does. He barely talked for a while, but he learnt that’s another thing that upset Dream. He bit his tongue and pretended it’s Wilbur, it’s Phil when Dream held him in his arms and ruffled his hair and talked gently to him. One day he brought in a jukebox and played the discs. It reminded Tommy of a time before the cell. He couldn’t remember the colour of grass or how the sunset looked. He hated it. Dream offered him the discs if he behaved, later on. Tommy grabbed them from his hands and shattered the plastic in two, because he didn’t want them, he didn’t want them to even exist because what was the fucking point of caring about anything anymore? Not discs, not people, not anything. Dream laughed and laughed.
(A ghostly teen, head held in his arm, gathered the shards. He stood at the door of a snowy house, uncaring of the pain as his body dissolved in it, not even reacting. When inside, he explains, monotone, to a paling looking angel and a crowned anarchist who’s hunger for blood increased by each word.)
If anyone else wants to send in some more AU ideas it’d be lovely and I will make them heavily involve c!primeboys no matter what and again that’s a challenge.
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delta-roseblr · 3 years ago
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Hi sweetie! I want to ask for a prompt about Cecil and Lou Ellen talking about the cute guy that he met. Thank you!
What? It's like three years later but I didn't forget!
Enjoy!
Cecil had just collapsed in his bunk, ready to sleep the day away in hopes of shaking the lingering effects of shadow travel. The sounds of quick footsteps entered the cabin. The Hermes cabin was a busy place being one of the largest cabins, so noise wasn't anything Cecil wasn't used to sleeping through. Even though it was the middle of the day, it wasn't uncommon for one of his siblings to come or go, so Cecil didn't even think anything of it until someone dropped next to him on his bunk.
He groaned in hopes that would be enough to get the person away. It wasn't a long shot, so he wasn't surprised when the person chuckled, patted his back, and didn't leave, but he was a little disappointed.
"So, how was Tennessee?" Lou Ellen asked, apparently ignoring the fact that Cecil was trying to sleep. That was pretty on-brand for Lou, and considering she was Cecil's best friend, he couldn't complain, although, at the moment, he wanted to. "What's Will's mom like?" She continued in that rapid-fire way that she had mastered over the years, "Were Will and Nico just making out the entire time? Did you see Felix and Dean? Were Felix and Dean making out the whole time too?"
Cecil didn't move, but he did crack open one eye to look up at his friend. "Lou, that was a lot of questions without breathing," he pointed out without enthusiasm, "How are you not out of breath?”
"Years of practice," Lou replied with a shrug. "Are you going to answer?"
Cecil was still a little woozy from Nico's shadow traveling him back to camp and tired from the whole trip, and he considered telling her no he wasn’t going to answer. He considered telling her he didn’t want to talk right that second because, in general, it wasn't the safest idea to tell a daughter of Hecate no. The chance that Lou would have accepted that answer and let him sleep was slim, and Cecil wasn't THAT tired.
"Which question?" he asked in a somewhat exaggerated grumbly voice to get across the point that he had been trying to sleep.
"Don't be difficult, Cecil!" Lou Ellen huffed, "How was your trip?"
That was a loaded question, not that Lou would know that. Still, Cecil couldn't help but smile a little to himself as he thought about it. "It was kind of great," he admitted, his voice still half muffled from his cheek being pressed against his bunk.
There was a short pause. That was an uncommon thing for Lou Ellen and a clear indication that he had managed to take her by surprise. "Great?" she asked uncertainly.
"Um, yeah," Cecil replied. Lou Ellen's uncertainty was catching because Cecil found himself wondering if that was the proper adjective. The uncertainty lasted only a few seconds before the memories assured Cecil that it was pretty great. He lifted his head a little and actually met Lou's gaze. "Why?"
"Not the adjective I was expecting," She admitted with a shrug, "I mean, I love Will and everything…."
She left the rest of the sentence to go unsaid, but Cecil got it. Will was genuinely fucking awesome, but he was a total fixer. It came from being in the infirmary all the time, literally fixing people. If you came to Will with a problem or just some heavy thoughts, he wanted to fix it for you. That wasn't a bad thing. Actually, it was awesome a lot of the time, but sometimes you weren't looking for things to be fixed or getting a pep talk, and then Will didn't know what to do with himself. Traveling with Will and Nico also came with the extra fun of being with the cutest, most in love gay couple on the planet. Good for them and all, but when you're currently trying to deal with your own feeling about being gay and work your way out of the closet, that can bring on some feelings.
"It was just nice to get away from camp," he explained. Being a year-round camper, Cecil didn't get to leave camp often, and even when he did (and it wasn't for a battle), it was just day trips to the city. "And Will's mom is a really good cook," he continued honestly. It wasn't the same as the food the nymphs put together at camp but still just as good, and she was always checking in to make sure that everyone had enough food. Her maternal energy was just soothing.
Cecil gave up on sleep, at least for the moment, and turned over to fully look at Lou Ellen because she wasn't going anywhere. "Felix said hi," he informed. It was sort of a perfect statement because it was true, and Lou would get a kick out of it and because it could get her on to another topic. He was sure something happened around camp that she wanted to talk about since he was gone.
"That's nice," Lou Ellen commented without the enthusiasm that Cecil had been expecting. Worse yet, after that, she fell silent, and her expression turned more and more suspicious with each passing second.
A sense of pressure increased with each passing second of silence, and it didn't take Cecil long before he hit the point where he couldn't take it anymore. He let out a nervous laugh despite himself and asked, "What?"
"Did you hook up with someone?" She asked as she continued to stare at him like she was trying to read his mind.
Cecil would freely admit that Lou Ellen knew him better than just about anyone but even he didn't know how she had gotten so close to the truth of the thing. She wasn't dead on because he hadn't actually hooked up with anyone, just a kiss - a truly life-changing, amazing kiss, but she was so close. Cecil honestly didn't know what he had said or done to give it away.
Usually, he would jokingly accuse Lou Ellen of reading his mind, but he wasn't sure he really wanted to do that. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to talk about it. In some sense, he absolutely did. A hot guy kissed him; why wouldn't he want to talk about that? But on the other hand, he was still sort of unpacking his feelings about getting kissed by a guy he probably would never see again. Sure, Cecil gave Kyle his number (because Lou Ellen had made him take a phone), but that didn't mean he would call or text him.
Okay, technically, Kyle had already texted him a few times before Cecil left Tennessee, but that still didn't mean anything.
Cecil sat up completely before attempting to counter with something resembling a denial. "What?" he asked, trying to sound surprised and a little confused rather than nervous. He wasn't sure if he was successful at that, which considering he was dealing with Lou Ellen didn't bode particularly well for him, but he didn't see a better option than committing to the plan. "Why would you even think that?"
Lou Ellen still managed to look suspicious even as she arched a dismissive eyebrow at him. "Because your trip was great," she explained with a level of finality that seemed misplaced considering.
"That seems thin," Cecil pointed out.
Lou Ellen huffed with annoyance and rolled her eyes hard enough. If she were anyone else, Cecil would have been sure she had hurt herself. "Cecil, I figured out you were gay before you did," she reminded, "I know you better than you know yourself."
Cecil loved Lou Ellen, he did, and weirdly he appreciated that she forced him to face his sexuality even if it had been hard at the time, but he wished she wouldn't bring it up so much. It always brought him back to a weird place. He probably could have just said that to Lou Ellen, but it was always hard to tell how she would take things. At times she would accept it at face value and never bring it up again, and at other times she would make it a big fucking deal. He would rather avoid the latter if he could.
"When are we going to get past that?" he questioned as casually as he could manage.
Luckily or maybe not (it did depend on how you looked at it), Lou Ellen remained focused on the information she was trying to extract from Cecil. "Just accept it," She dismissed with a simple wave of her hand, "Now spill, because I want details."
"Lou," Cecil protested but came out sounding a little like a whine.
"Cecil," Lou declared, sounding very much like a parent preparing to reprimand a naughty child, "I will beat them out of you if I need to."
Cecil accepted his fate with a loud huff and a roll of his eyes. "I didn't hook up with anyone," he corrected before adding, "But I did sort of meet someone."
"Oh, my gods!" Lou Ellen exclaimed before clapping and jumping a little where she sat as a show of excitement, "Details, Cecil!"
Cecil could feel the heat creeping up his neck and toward his face. He knew in a matter of seconds his face would be bright red. "Lou, there isn't much to tell," he muttered bashfully. There wasn't much to tell, so he wasn't lying exactly, but it had felt like something as nothing as it was. It had forced him to come out to Will, so that was something. Lou would make it into so much more, and she would have so many questions that Cecil hadn't even thought of and definitely would not have answers to.
Lou Ellen let out one of her long, overly dramatic sighs. "I'm assuming this someone has a name," she pointed out with one of her looks, "And you met him somewhere."
Okay, so yes, Cecil didn't want to answer big philosophical questions about his sexuality and sexual attraction, but at the same time, there was part of him that did want to talk about it because he met a boy. Not just a boy, but a hot boy who had seemed interested in him.
Even though he knew it was a trap of sorts, Cecil couldn't resist the urge to gush at least a little. "Oh, his name is Kyle," he answered. He couldn't help but smile just saying the name. It reminded Cecil of Kyle, and Kyle was something worth smiling about. "I met him at a gay bar."
"You WENT to a gay bar!?!" Lou Ellen exclaimed with complete and utter outrage.
"Oh, ya yeah," Cecil admitted. He probably should have figured Lou would be bothered by that. Not that they went but that she wasn't there to join them. He and Will were probably going to pay for that slip at some point, but he could do nothing about that now. "Will and Nico went because Dean and Felix were going, I think," he offered as an explanation.
"So, all of my gays went to a gay bar without me," Lou Ellen summarized with clear displeasure, "I'm a little hurt, can't lie."
Cecil was careful not to be too obvious about rolling his eyes as he apologized without any real sincerity, "Sorry." Lou Ellen made too big of a deal about things sometimes. It didn't come from a bad place, so he didn't see the point of calling her out on it. Still, it wasn't like he or Will ever made such a big deal about Lou being bisexual.
"No," Lou Ellen dismissed, apparently either unaware or ignoring the fact that his apology was anything but genuine. "If you met someone, it's fine," She assured before turning to look at Cecil with that excited glint back in her eyes, "So did your eyes meet over the dance floor or what?"
That is exactly how Cecil had imagined that sort of thing in the past, but remembering the actual guy bar they had gone to, the thought made him cringe a little. "Um, no," he answered instead of explaining that most of the guys at the bar were way too old for him. "He came with Dean and Felix," he explained, "I think he is a friend of Felix from school."
"Why am I not surprised?" Lou Ellen declared with a chuckle, "Felix is like the ultimate wingman!"
Cecil didn't really get why Lou Ellen got along so well with Felix. He was pretty sweet to Dean, but with everyone else, he could be a little abrasive. He could understand why Will hadn't gotten along with him more, but Cecil might have been biased because of what had happened. "Yeah, Felix sort of yelled at me," he told Lou Ellen. He didn't know why he was lightening the blow because there wasn't much question on if Felix yelled at him or not. He definitely yelled and cussed a fair amount. "I don't think he was cool with a demigod potentially flirting with his friend."
Lou Ellen's eyebrows furrowed momentarily, and Cecil wasn't sure if it was from concern or confusion. He didn't have much time to figure it out before it was just gone and replaced with an expression much more familiar coming from Lou Ellen, unwavering confidence. "What does Felix know? Don't worry about that," She dismissed with a wave of her hand. Cecil doubted even she would have been so confident if she had heard Felix's angry tirade. He might not have been a demigod, but Felix had Cecil hesitate for his safety.
Cecil thought about saying as much to Lou Ellen, but she didn't really give him a chance. "So, you were flirting?" Lou questioned with excitement in her voice as she bounced excitedly where she sat.
If Cecil's cheeks weren't burning before, they definitely were hearing that question. "I don't know," he muttered with a sheepish shrug. Part of him didn't want to say it because it felt like an almost private thing, but part of him honestly wasn't sure. He had never really been good at flirting, at least not the times he cared to try. He just got nervous and sort of bumbled the whole thing. Kyle was cute, and he had made Cecil nervous. Cecil had wanted to flirt, and he had thought he kind of was, but without the usual bumbling, he couldn't be sure. Maybe he had been doing it wrong. "Maybe."
"Okay," Lou Ellen dragged out the word before letting out a little annoyed puff of air. "I love you, but you are by far the most frustrating person ever," she declared as she shook her head in disappointment.
"What? What did I say?" Cecil questioned with genuine confusion.
"Nothing," Lou Ellen dismissed, although she still sounded somewhat disappointed. "Let's backtrack a little," she declared, "What's the guy's name?"
As much as he tried, Cecil couldn't help but smile as he uttered the name, "Kyle."
"M’kay," Lou Ellen nodded and smiled. Apparently, Cecil was back on the track Lou Ellen wanted him to be on. "And what does he look like, and if you want to objectify him a little by rating his general hotness, I will support you."
Cecil's stomach did a little flip just at the thought. Kyle was so good-looking, and Cecil could probably go on for days talking about just how hot he was, but that was sort of embarrassing. Or at least he felt a little awkward about it. Maybe it would be better to stick to the facts and not wax poetic. "Um…well, he's….um, average height, has dark red hair, and green eyes," he began.
"And did he rob your convenient store?" Lou Ellen interrupted with the tone of an absolutely exasperated woman. "Gods, Cecil! I'm not drawing a wanted poster here, you can talk with a little enthusiasm!"
Cecil could have been more enthusiastic if he talked to anyone else, but with Lou Ellen, it just felt a little weird. They had dated, and sure they had both agreed to break up and all of that, but it still made Cecil feel weird about some things at times. He couldn't gush about how hot Kyle was with her. He just wasn't there yet. "He used to play football, so he's…..um….in really good shape," Cecil explained.
"Oh, my gods, he's a beefcake!" Lou Ellen explained before reaching out and slapping him lightly on the arm, "I didn't realize that was your type!"
"I wouldn't say it's my type," Cecil muttered. His face was so hot he absolutely could not understand how he hadn't just exploded from it. Cecil had never thought he had a type, but Kyle definitely would have been it if he did. So maybe beefcakes were his thing.
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mihidecet · 4 years ago
Text
Sbi&CO d&d AU: A Familiar Face (1/?)
WELCOME WELCOME EVERYONE! Today, the tournament arc begins! I do hope you’ll enjoy this ahahah
I dedicate this to all the wonderful people of the Au’s Discord - hit me up if you wanna join! Also, a special thank you to @traitorous-bisexual and @awebo without whom this arc wouldn’t exist <3
Finally, before we start: make sure you check out @whatimevendoinhere , @spout1nk and (soon) @julius-ranch for art and fanfics about the AU!!
It was a lovely morning. 
The sun shined through the tinted windows, turning the light a soft orange glow that lessened the glare of it against his eyes. 
It was a welcome respite: during the months that involved preparing the tournament, days were quick to melt together, nights becoming just darker afternoons as Scott and everyone around him hurried to make everything look ready for the contestants' arrival. So, not having the sun shine directly into his eyes as he looked over the final challenges that had been chosen for the tournament was a relief. The cup of warm tea by his desk was also a saving grace.
Stifling a yawn, Scott figured that he could let himself take a stroll. Maybe open up his window, let the room freshen up a bit. 
With his window overlooking one of the many parks inside the Academy, maybe he could distract himself for a moment and see if his protege had finally started warming up to his teammates. 
That plan had flown out of the window almost immediately. Or maybe it would be better to say that it had flown into the window, along with a green tipped arrow that had suddenly appeared in his field of vision. 
Now, Scott hasn't been adventuring for a while, but it would be foolish to think that he's forgotten how the world works - with a flick of his wrist, a translucent dome of purple arcane energy materializes between him and the incoming arrow, which impacts with the barrier a split second later. The tip goes through, piercing the veil of his magic, and for a terrifying moment Scott thinks it's not gonna stop, but it simply stops, held in place as if caught in a web. 
Which is a relief, the amateur that tried to attack him - an Archmage, in the middle of his own Academy - failed to get their first shot in and this will give him the time to step back and call his most trusted in order to quickly and efficiently get rid of the problem at hand. He has other more pressing matters to attend to, he's not going to waste his time on this. 
As his Shield spell fades, it congeals like a shimmering second skin over his upper arm. Maybe calling the guards isn't that pressing, he's got this. 
Or maybe he doesn't, he thinks as he get a second, much more terrifying surprise - in the span of a couple of seconds, he really can get no breaks.
A figure materializes in the air in front of him, with a dark hood over their head that covers most of their features except for a huge - terrifying - grin and an intricate bow strapped to their back.
The figure appears with a puff of iridescent smoke, crouched in the air as if they'd been in the process of jumping before they decided to teleport, and- crashes into him, the force of the impact and the shock of it happening making him lose his balance and start falling back. 
There's a moment where Scott is confused: is this some sort of strange tactic? Did the stranger misjudge their trajectory? Are they going to wrestle on the ground as if they weren't both magic users? 
Then, a brief split second of panic - he didn't look what the stranger was holding, and he is currently falling on his back. He is going to get stabbed, at the very least, and that conviction is only made stronger as he feels the stranger's arms close in around him. 
But then, Scott has simply enough time to blink in shock, as the arms just wrap around his back, before his world is literally turned upside down.
One moment he is falling on his back, already anticipating the pain of a knife to the back - please no vital organs, spare him the need for an extremely expansive healer. The next the is wrapped in a hug and grunting in pain as his knees impact with the ground. 
"Ah, fuck that hurt- Scotty are you alright?" 
Scott refuses to believe this. He pushes against the chest under him - the arms give, letting him go - and finds himself face to face with a sight that is both very familiar and weirdly unusual. 
"You-" Scott says, tone an unconvincingly mix of menacing and angry as he jabs a finger into the not-so-stranger's chest -"Are lucky to be alive. I could have murdered you."
Hbomb's worried glance instantly brightens, despite Scott's best hopes, and he throws his head back to laugh. No matter how irritated he is at his friend, he can't help but huff out a laugh himself, and a moment later they're both chuckling together on the floor. By all the gods, it has been some time.
"You are a dumbass, H. You couldn't just use the door? You know, like a normal person?!" Scott asks, holding himself up on his left elbow because H has always been one to laugh with his whole body and Scott is still recovering from jamming his knees into the floor, he's not in the mood to be jostled around by an enthusiastic ranger. 
"Aw, Scotty, aren't you happy to see me?" The half-elf asks, putting a hand on his chest as he fails to pretend he's insulted. Scott flicks his nose. 
"Ah- that hurt!"
"I know, I meant it to hurt. Now, do you want to tell me what you're doing here? And what is that doing on your face?" Scott demands, serious at first until he realises that H has been growing out his beard well past what he considers to be a good length - H's pout is barely visible under all that scruff.
"Well, now, that is unnecessarily rude. I've been traveling for a while now, and I wasn't gonna risk injuring myself-" Scott grabs a wandering hand and brings it back on H's chest. 
"H." Hbomb has a tendency of gesticulating when his hands aren't being kept busy, and while he did figure that his friend had simply forgotten to shave, he has known him long enough to be able to recognise when H is going off on a tangent - which is perfectly fine - and when he's changing the subject because he doesn't want to answer. 
He knows he's right when H simply shuts up, eyes wide like those of a deer - quite fitting, considering where he enjoys spending most of his time. But instead of looking pensive, or starting to answer, H just … looks down. At where their hands are. 
Normally, he wouldn't think much of it. But H looks almost sheepish, and his eyes keep moving from his face to their hands, so Scott looks down. 
His brain screeches to a halt, and suddenly he stands up a little straighter, sitting on the floor next to H as he grabs his hand in his. 
Around his fingers wraps a perfect replica of a silver winged fae dragon, while in his palm- one of the most accurate representations of the different Planes. 
Scott turns his stare to his fiend, who looks more calm than Scott feels he has any right to, and when he speaks he sounds almost breathless. 
"What happened to you?"
The tale of how Shubble's patron reached out to him to grant him powers is exhilarating. Not in the "funny" sense, more in the "my friend who is usually not that fond of talking and interacting with people especially when he's not in a place he is familiar with, was transported to a different plane and spoke with a being of transcendent power". So maybe a bit in the "funny" sense. 
The only negative side of the whole affair is the fact that Shubble is currently not present. 
She actually teaches at the Academy, so H was right in his assumption that reaching this place would have helped him out, but he just barely missed her by a couple of weeks. She's recently left, called out on an urgent mission by her patron themselves, and a part of Scott's mind can't help but feel like it is an extremely weird coincidence: he respects power gained through pacts, but he fears deeply the machinations of otherworldly beings' minds and the power they hold over his friends. He'd much prefer dealing with forces controlled by his own self, so that when a spell backfires comically he only has himself to blame. 
But all things considered, he's glad to see H is still alive and seemingly doing better than ever. He looks fine, happy and more confident than the last time he saw him - the way he stands and moves more firm, more secure, filling his space in a way the Hbomb of some time ago wouldn't have. 
It's nice to see him like this. 
What isn't nice is the way his increased confidence leads him to suggest how good of an idea it would be for him to take part into the tournament. Which is a horrible idea. 
"Listen, I know I am banned from playing again-" H starts, arms spread open with a mischievous grin on his face. Scott has sudden flashbacks to all the times he'd seen that grin from the other side of the battlefield and shakes his head firmly before pointing a stern finger at his chest.
"You still have a year before you can." 
H huffs, shoulders falling, and he adopts the most fake-innocent expression Scott has ever seen. 
"But I'm just here to say hi!" Scott levels him with a blank stare, using all of his willpower and internal strength to avoid bursting out laughing. Because for all that his friend's expression is hilarious, this is really no laughing matter. He can't have him win again. 
"I said what I said." H's head hits the desk with a groan of protest. 
On the other side of the table, Scott pinches his own arm in order not to laugh. 
He fails.
H still manages to pout his way into getting a free room to stay in for a while - just like the old times, come on! - and seems to be alright with being left to his own devices for the rest of the morning. 
Knowing him, he'll take it as the perfect chance to snoop around, make new friends and bother the tournament's contestants. 
As Scott turns back to his schematics, the only thing he does is chuckle to himself. 
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pawnshopsouls · 4 years ago
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Sci Fi Idea: Aether Particles and the Bros “Aether Suits“
//Ok so I have played with the idea of Salem and Bonely being in SciFi centric universes for some time now, and it’s led me to the hashing out of why Magic and Ghosts exist in the Bel’Terum universe and not sci-fi universes.
//This reason being a subatomic particle known as an Aether particle.
//Aether particles are a unique and curious particles. When charged with energy, they manifest in strange and paranormal ways. They are the primary particle in the make up of a “Soul” which generates and preserves the mind, will, and emotional state of a person or being. When congealed into a soul, the particles begin generating their own energy and producing a unique “charge” tailored by the composition of that soul. In this vein, those who’s souls generate enough energy gain the ability to use Magic (which is the use and sending of personally charged Aether particles to construct, deconstruct, and reconstruct matter in the environment according to the will of its sender).
//Depending on the type of energy the particles are charged with, they can be good/beneficial, neutral, or harmful. Good charges (usually given/associated with the Sovereign and His hosts) lead to accelerated healing, increased longevity, and various abilities such purifying, cleansing, and countering/dispelling of beings with negatively-charged particles.
//Neutral charges usually lean towards elemental affinities which gives the user abilities to affect natural elements with the same energy charge as their own Magic/Ether particles.
//negative charges lean lead to negative effects such as blood poisoning, mutations, destruction/restructuring at the atomic level, corruption of other beings, and a control over other beings infected/afflicted with the user’s energy and Aether particles.
//All of these can also be tuned in to a person’s unique energy signature. This creates a kind of tethering effect in which once the particles have absorbed enough of a person’s Aether energy, any items, creatures, or places that absorb that Aether become tethered to the user and adopt their will and nature as secondary motivations/attributes.
//Now, what does this have to do with Salem and Bonely in space suits?
//Well, when a specific particle becomes intrinsic to your physical, spiritual, psychological, and magical make up - the absence of that particle will lead to bad things.
//Like putting salt water fish in a fresh water tank, or a human without a space suit in to space, people/beings who need Aether Particles to survive will die in universes where there are no ether particles.
//Thus we have the Aether suits!
//These suits were specifically designed by Salem, Bonely, and a team of scientists whom they encountered after learning to speak said scientists language. Thanks to a plant that they saturated with Aether materials, thus making it a kind of Aether generator, they were able to live/survive long enough to get the Aether suits done and get their particles & their little plant buddy’s particles contained.
//Weirdly, an unfortunate side effect of having creatures with Aether particles in a place with no natural Aether particles is environmental mutations. Things that shouldn’t be doing A Thing start doing that thing. Thus we have the suits as life preservers for Salem and Bonely and security measures for the rest of the universe.~
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feeshies · 4 years ago
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oh man I feel you on the MF comparisons. I've been feeling a little off about them for a while too but could never find a good way to explain it, but 'Channel Awesome vibes' is a great way to describe it. Especially after I realized that their donation strategy is weirdly counter-intuitive and actually works against long-term donors
yes!  that nails it.  and since making that post, i had more time to think through the comparison.
(note: i am not comparing the way the employees were treated under these two companies.  i don’t know if the people working under maxfun have enough material for a 60+ page google doc detailing how they were treated badly like the ca people were.  this is strictly about the business models as well as fan relations)
(note 2: i still listen to a few maxfun podcasts and i plan on continuing to do so.)
this ended up getting really long
the first comparison i can think of is how both of these companies really try to push the narrative that they weren’t...companies, but rather just a group of friends and communities being able to do their dream job.  the behind the scenes videos for the channel awesome movies or the crossover videos between reviewers gives the audience the impression that they’re all friends who would be hanging out together regardless of their jobs.  which, if you’re deeply invested in these personalities, is very appealing.  i know many people who were around during channel awesome’s peak (myself included) who wanted to become reviewers, not for the revenue or for the creative expression, but because they wanted to be part of a group.  maxfun’s model isn’t quite the same (other than the convention i don’t think there were a lot of instances where podcast hosts would get together as a unit), but maxfun’s business model paints itself to be smaller and more grassroots than it actually is.
both companies had their flagship programs that attracted most traffic to their sites/services, while other programs don’t seem to get the same level of attention, even though one of the benefits of joining a company like this would be the exposure.  this is just a minor observation, but looking through the catalogue of mf shows reminds me of looking through the catalogue at tgwtg.com.  it’s like there are so many programs...and i don’t hear people talking about 90% of them.  also the ads for the podcasts give me the same energy as the cameos channel awesome reviewers would make in each other’s reviews.
this is the most striking comparison to me, and it’s the business model.  channel awesome (or specifically tgwtg) was created because it provided a safety net to online reviewers who were worried about getting copyright strikes on youtube.  you could post to blip on its own, but no one would see it.  by partnering with tgwtg, you were increasing your chances of being able to profit off of your videos while also getting more of an audience (of course even then it still comes down to luck).  there were competing sites (who here remembers reviewtopia?), but those fizzled and died quickly.  it was very transparent that everyone who partnered with those competing sites were just trying to get noticed by tgwtg (some have even said outright).
but that model didn’t last forever.  when youtube became less (key word: less, it still sucks) trigger happy with the copyright strikes and allowed more long-form content, more reviewers navigated there.  when blip shut down in 2015(?), they were pretty much forced to anyway.  and unlike blip, youtube makes it easier to gather and maintain an audience.  and then patreon started to take off too.  so, since reviewers were now able to sustain an audience independent of channel awesome and have more control over their revenue, there was a mass exodus from the main site (of course, the issues outlined in the document certainly helped with that).
the maxfun donation model gives me the same vibe.  a lot of non-maxfun podcasts use patreon.  this gives listeners the benefits of being able to directly support the creators (iirc the cut patreon takes is much smaller than the cut mf takes) as well as providing them with monthly/weekly bonus content: episodes with no ads, behind the scenes, q&as, etc.  when i started supporting more podcasts on patreon, i was kinda overwhelmed by the amount of content there was.
but the donation model is so weird to me.  first, it’s more of a subscription fee than a donation, but that wouldn’t really work with the chill vibe they’re probably going for.  and unlike patreon bonus content, the bonus donor content is given out annually, not weekly/monthly.  just doesn’t feel like a good investment (even though i’ve done it whoops)
also you don’t get bonus content for the shows you like, you’re getting content for the whole company.  i am a donor and you have to scroll through everyone’s bonus content to get the one or two episodes you actually donated for.  and they’re usually just normal episodes?  you could be paying up to $200 a month (yes that is a tier) and still have to listen to ads on the episodes.
this is where my comparison to channel awesome comes from, because this feels oddly outdated because it feels like no one else in the medium does this.  i can’t imagine a system like tgwtg operating in 2021 the same way it did in 2010.
if it’s not obvious, i only have a casual observer’s perspective of mf’s business model.  this was just an excuse for me to ramble about tgwtg and channel awesome, because i wasted my teen years on that site and i need someone to listen.
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thebestworstidea · 4 years ago
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Someone asked about Marked Mages and Scrubbing on AO3 and so I thought I’d share what I said here.
Tattoos are basically focus pieces; sort of like wands. The magic energy flows through them better and more precisely than it does just by focusing one's will.  (the magic Virgil displays focuses the magic outside the body rather than through the body with sound) Most Marks are symbolic of a mage's focus in magic. The symbology doesn't have to make sense to anyone else, just the mage. Minor Marked Mages, who only use their magic for one or two things will have much more obvious imagery, like a tattoo of weapons to summon magic weapons, or locks and keys for working with binding or locking. There are even Minor Marked Mages who don't really do anything but have their natural bodily talents enhanced; the magic is being constantly channeled to that one thing- for instance being stronger, being faster, or having better vision or memory. Another common simple Mark is to aid in the creation of artifacts that non-Marked people can use, such as a bracelet with a hidden weapon, a protection charm against personal violence, (or STDS, or bugs) a scrying stone to a specific location or item (think like a walkie talky). That level of Mark requires much less focus and schooling.
(I then get into scrubbing, which is kind of violent, so proceed with awareness)
The thing with the scrubbing is that if they removed the Mark with minimal scarring, the mage could get another Mark. But by creating a great deal of scarring, the magic interprets that disruption as the place to focus, even though it's not a good place to flow through. A Marked Mage who'd been scrubbed would still be better at 'formal' magic than a witch, who doesn't use a mark, instead focusing magic through exterior items like herbs and wands, but because the magic is pressing through the scar tissue it hurts. But the Magic will automatically flow towards the scar. Theoretically, yes, a mage who'd been scrubbed could get a new tattoo somewhere else and focus through that; but it would never work as well. Apprentice mages can used dyed hair in a similar fashion to a Mark because they're working at a much lower level, but they're still essentially focusing magic through damaged/changed parts of their bodies. If they over bleached their hair, it would be damaged, and react more like a scar.
Janus already had the tattoo down his back when he was scrubbed. When he was captured and realized he wasn't getting away, he used illusion magic (one of his focused magic arts) to hide it. That made it harder for him to fight back. However, most Mages only have one set of tattoos. The scales on Janus's face were so obvious, they barely looked for another mark, as well as it being hidden. He isn't as good at magic as he used to be, and using it will often cause him pain, like a headache or a bug bite (or a bunch of bug bites, or even a bee sting).
If Patton had been caught by people set on Scrubbing him, he probably would have died, because his tattoo covers so much of his body. However, if they'd left any of the small symbols that are at the ends of the vines, he would have been able to use that Mark. However, since he uses the different symbols as tools to cast different spells, rather than focusing fresh on what he wants the magic to do every time (which he does have to do for magic he doesn't have a set symbol for) he would be less able to cast any magic that wasn't related to that symbol. His core Mark is the heart on his chest, which meant if that was disrupted, (like Remus drawing the sigil on it) it would be harder for him to cast magic in general, even with his other Marks.  
Oh, let's talk about the sigils that Remus uses- they're exterior focus magic, more like witchcraft, or trigger spells. In theory, anyone with willpower and knowledge of the symbol (or set of symbols, combining lines, like runes) can use that kind of magic. If Remus had always used sigils instead of just pushing magic through, he wouldn't have created gray hairs. (interestingly enough, someone who used magic in the style of a Marked Mage without being Marked would probably start developing virtilligo or weirdly shaped freckles as their skin and body got damaged by forcing the magic through; however it would be causing them increasing levels of damage as time went by)
A Mark can be temporarily disrupted by cutting the skin on it; not unusual for fighting a mage; this knowledge is probably what led to Scrubbing.  
Magic, because of it's attraction to scars has to be very focused to heal scars instead of just clumping up in them. the cleaner the cut (the more likely it would be to heal without scarring) the better it will take to magical healing. This is why major skin disruption, burning/branding or removal of the skin the tattoo was on (and yes, there are some sick bastards who participated in Scrubbing who have collections of pieces of skin with tattoos on them) are favored for Scrubbing.
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toooldforfandom-liveblogs · 5 years ago
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She-Ra and the Princesses of Power S01E07 - In the Shadows of Mystacor
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I'm trying to remember if Mystacor has ever been mentioned but I'm drawing a blank. The title sounds portentous enough that it makes me doubt the episode is going to be about the Ice Princess but she's the only one left so I'm guessing that's what it’s going to be about! Let's do this!
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...why does Bow have hearts in the soles of his shoes?
"Because I can" he'd probably say
Also, what's up with them sleeping in the wilderness? Was the technology for tents and/or shelter lost in whatever catastrophe the First Ones went through?
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I had this without subtitles and for a second I thought "Hey, she's having nightmares about Light Hope, maybe because of the infection?" but then I recognized the voice. Of course, the subtitles don't leave a lot of room to wonder who's talking.
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Sure, leave your friends and tell no one you're leaving. Great idea!
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That's some cute bed hair. I'm still weirdly bothered about the fact that they straight up slept on the grass. Like, it gets wet! And there are bugs!
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How long has she been standing there watching? It was still dark when she stood up.
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* gasp * Continuity~
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Wait, did Glimmer just tell them "let's go sleep in the woods" without telling them their destination?
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Oh, so there's magic beyond what the Princesses can do.
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...I think Castaspella takes the prize for being the most literal name in She-Ra yet.
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oooh, is Adora going to have problems seeing it? Drama~
As an aside, after last episode I wonder if all magic in Etheria is actually just very advanced technology from the First Ones and the entire setting of the show is post apocalyptic. That'd explain why they the princesses need to recharge in very specific circumstances instead of just sleeping it off like most wizards in most other settings.
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The biggest mood. I _am_ writing this during another bout of insomnia after all.
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ooh, plot
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What's Shadow Weaver's problem with Catra? Is it just "Adora's the good one daughter, you're the bad one"? Whatever it is, Catra's self value and resentment problems are 1:1 linked to that, especially considering how Shadow Weaver keeps poking at Catra's insecurities.
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The red rock can probably still work under the "all magic is tech" theory since Entrapta's problems were all because of a gem but I'm not so sure about the stone basin and the liquid inside.
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(that's a fantastic Glimmer face)
Oh. So she didn't have friends when she was growing up? She didn't seem to know the other princesses, and the castle seems to have mostly soldiers and her mom so I guess it makes sense? But still, that's sad.
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oh no she's a grandma
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So, magic definitely isn't something only Princesses can wield. Unless it's different from their powers? They do seem to have very specific powers versus what looks like these generic sparkles.
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It looks like Glimmer's inability to be taken seriously goes beyond her mother. That she didn't have a lot of friends feels like an important piece of that puzzle, since it could mean she was overprotected when she was a child (maybe because of the war?) and only recently she's been "acting out"
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I was thinking that maybe Castaspell was the other princess's mom but now I really hope she isn't. That passive aggresive personality would be incredibly toxic.
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I can't figure out Shadow Weaver's plan. Does she want to freak her out for some reason? Is she leading Adora somewhere (how does she know Mystacor enough to know where she wants to lead Adora?)? Hm.
Also I'm really bad at recognizing voices but Castaspella's voice reminds a bit of Shadow Weaver.
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oh my god I was going to write the same thing
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OH MY GOD I WAS KIDDING
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I can't believe they are exploring Glimmer's weirdly normal family issues.
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Welp, that'd explain how Shadow Weaver's shadowy thing knows how to move around Mysticor. How long ago was she exiled? It'd need to be at least 20~ years ago to match with her adopting Adora.
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Sure, _now_ they have blankets.
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Huh. Interesting design choice to keep Bow's chest covered. Now I'm wondering if he's trans and that's a binder.
It wouldn't be my first guess considering it's so direct and trans characters are mostly limited to background characters if at all but that quote from the showrunner about her characters being gay unless otherwise stated makes me think it could be a possibility.
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GLIMMER HAS WINGS
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Aw, the cuteness couldn't last.
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The design of those wings remind me a lot of the ones in Card Captor Sakura, I wonder if it's an intentional reference.
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Aw. Adora really has a ton of stuff to work through, huh? I'm glad they are taking the time to do it, it'd have been so easy for the writers to just let Adora cast aside everything Horde related but nope, she has a past, conflicted feelings about her "mom" and definitely some trauma.
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oh my god this is so wholesome. I mean, he's wrong, but still wholesome.
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He's such a good boy. He's even willing to accept Adora's different way to dealing with her emotions.
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Uuuugh, that has to be Shadow Weaver, right? A lifetime of experience manipulating Adora, she knows exactly what to say, how to gaslight her.
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This level of emotional manipulation is killing me. Shadow Weaver knows exactly what buttons to push, exactly what Adora fears hearing the most. And she's probably has been doing the same for years to both Adora and Catra.
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Welp, I hope all those crystals were not important.
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My heart. Glimmer did not jump to conclusions or blamed her even though she just lost a ton of credibility with her aunt. What a wholesome marshmallow.
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I guess someone could go and say "they are wrong because they don't believe her" but this really feels like it's completely out of their life experience so I can't blame them at all. And they are probably going to apologize once it's all clear, right? I'm not sure you can ask more from them, they have been extremely supportive.
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nooooo, don't do this to my heart (or Adora's) this has to be Shadow Weaver but that almost feels wrong because if she's so powerful why hasn't she done this before?
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uuuuuuuugh
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Rainbow energy~ Is She-Ra going to have to recharge the shields?
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yup
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I can't believe I'm going to say this but this almost feels out of character. Why would Shadow Weaver reveal the shadow if she's been so good about manipulating Adora so far?
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Aaand she's back.
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I'm glad they didn't leave that as a mystery. Wait, Light Spinner? Is Spinnerella a relative?
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I _love_ this. I mentioned how it felt like it seemed like some people (like Angela or Perfuma) cared more about She-Ra than Adora, to the point that even Adora herself seemed to prefer being She-Ra for a while and it was all on purpose!
Shadow Weaver is manipulating Adora but this is probably something that has been festering in Adora's mind for weeks and I love that it's something that's been present enough on the show to be noticeable instead of something we have to extrapolate.
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AAAAAAAA
I didn't expect Adora to confront all her dark mom issues and trauma so soon but this is gooood.
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whoa wait what, that's cheating
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Aren't you like one more subordinate of Lord Hordak?
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This is some heavy stuff that I didn't expect this show to handle.
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I'm going to be slightly dissapointed if that's the end of Adora's issues.
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she's in
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This is so wholesome and cute.
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Is it a coincidence that her gem works the same way as the distress beacon in Entrapta's castle?
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Nooooooo.
I feel so conflicted about Catra, she obviously has a lot of problems but after this episode I'm finding it very hard to blame her. Shadow Weaver _liked_ Adora and was horribly manipulative to her, imagine what she has been doing to Catra every day her entire life.
---
What a surprise! It's been pretty episodic so far with the introduction of the princesses so a return to the Horde and Shadow Weaver was a completely unexpected. It even included some consequences from last episode's infection!
There are a couple of things I want to talk about but before anything else, let me gush about how Bow and Glimmer are amazing friends to Adora.
When the episode starts with Adora not being in the right mood, it only takes one look from Glimmer to notice there’s something wrong with her friend after she doesn’t react to her jokes. She doesn’t get angry at Adora’s moody response, instead she tries to understand what’s going on and offers her a vacation.
While I was watching, I thought this was after returning to Bright Moon but it makes a lot more sense if they are on the trip back from Entrapta. Had Glimmer already decided to go to Mystacor or was it in response to Adora’s bad mood? In any case they really emphasize Mystacor’s healing properties because they see how much Adora needs that.
And then during their stay they never get frustrated at Adora’s increasing paranoia, instead they keep trying to help her by suggesting ways to relax.
How easy it would have been for Glimmer to give up on Adora after the third time of being rebuffed? No one would have blamed her or Bow if they got annoyed but they just keep trying. Bow even shows he listened to Adora about what she did to relax in the past and suggests it back to her after the “normal” stuff fails. And then they give her space the second Adora asks for it!
Even after Adora’s breaks the crystals in the Lunarium and seemingly kills any bit of “grown-up” credibility Glimmer may have had with her aunt, she doesn’t get angry.
I understand that there’s a reading here that could say that Glimmer and Bow are in the wrong because they didn’t trust Adora about her weird visions from the get go but I feel this was a lot more realistic. How long has been Adora with them? How much of their past do they even know? Before this episode they hadn’t heard about Shadow Weaver and that’s Adora’s _mom_. In fact, I’m sure they don’t even know who Catra is, and that’s Adora’s strongest “positive” link to the Horde.
Would _you_ believe a new friend if they started seeing shadows after a traumatic experience that affected their cognition? Or would you try to help them in the way that makes most sense to you?
I think a plot where they believe her right away could have worked as a mystery but I’m not sure I’d have liked it as much as this one.
That last scene where Adora wakes up from a nightmare and shows her new trust in Glimmer by falling sleep right away was * chef kiss *
With all my unbridled gushing out of the way, let’s talk about Shadow Weaver. It’s interesting that they took a mystery that could have worked for a multiple episode arc and then revealed it in the same episode.
If the episode had _only_ Bow’s line “Mystacor is protected by a spell so evil can’t find it” plus Shadow Weaver’s shadow hanging around it would have been enough to set up a mystery about how she wasn’t affected. A couple of episodes later they could have shown Light Spinner’s statue. And afterwards they could have confirmed it. That they took the possibility of stretching something like that for episodes and episodes makes me optimistic about the future since I assume they have much better ideas in their pocket.
What I am _not_ optimistic about is how this episode felt like it was “the one where Adora overcomes the trauma from being raised by Shadow Weaver.” She’s still dealing with nightmares by the end but it still felt very rushed in that regard. I’m hoping I’m wrong and this is just her first step.
Glimmer’s struggles in making adults take her seriously have been interesting so far. It makes me wonder what will be the event that’ll change everyone’s minds. I doubt this show will go _too_ dark but a battle their side loses because they didn’t listen to her or a battle they win only because they listened to her could work. Technically, the Princesses Alliance is that but I’m pretty sure Angella won’t care much about it until they prove themselves.
Bow is still a mystery. An extremely good boy, but a mystery. I’m hoping that Catra’s sudden focus on him will develop him more. I’m still curious if he’s intended to be read as trans but it’s a nice head canon to have if not.
Oh, and Catra. This good has been very, very good about not being black and white but Shadow Weaver’s behavior tilted the scales towards Catra being a very sympathetic but tragic figure. She may be the black sheep of Shadow Weaver’s wards but it looks like she learned the lessons SW was teaching the best, probably because she was subjected to them the most during their life.
I think that's all for now. There's still a princess left and whatever's Catra is planning so I can't wait! Until next time!
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shiratorizawa-academy · 5 years ago
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Oh, I got another poly STZ idea. It's Valentine's Day and Yamato's birthday. The guys stay after practice and give Yamato chocolates, flowers, etc. Yamato is like 'aw thanks guys for remembering my birthday' and everything. Which is true and all - how could they ever forget!? But, no, they're actually trying to ask him out and Yamato's just frozen and blushing so hard. And then there'd be lots of hugging and a few first kisses and the boys sleepover at the gym with Yamato in the middle. Lefty
I just realised that I wrote Yamato instead of Yamagata in that last ask and I can’t believe I did that to our sweet boy 😔 I guess I was too excited to share that idea that I didn’t pay enough attention and mashed up his first name with his surname. He just needs more love and him getting it from all his favourite boys had me emotional and excited because I kept picturing him with this expression of awe on his face. Lefty.
Shh it’s fine I’m sure he’d forgive you… I mean you even know his first name, that has to count for something lol
ALSO I LOVE THIS A LOT BLESS YOU!!! I wrote a short thing for it, I hope you don’t mind ♥
-
Hayato was excited about morning practice. Even more so than usual. He had been awake since 4am, something his mom definitely would have scolded him for if she had known. He wasn’t a child anymore, he shouldn’t get this excited about his own birthday.
But the thing was, it wasn’t just any birthday. It was his third (and last, but he preferred not to think about that) birthday at school. This school. He would get to spend it with his team and if the past two years had taught him anything, it was that they always found a way to make even the most mundane of things special. And today? Well, without sounding too full of himself, he knew that his birthday wasn’t just any other day to them.
With his heart pounding a little too fast, Hayato grabbed his gym shoes and his water bottle and considered looking for his phone. He’d like to take pictures if the team had anything planned - but it was probably too early for that. They had celebrated Eita’s birthday in the evening to make sure that they would have the entire gym for themselves.
Shrugging, Hayato left his dorm. He’d look for his phone after he had burned off some of his restless energy.
As he hurried towards the gym, he couldn’t keep his thoughts from wandering. He wondered what his friends were planning to him. Whatever it was, he really hoped he’d get a hug from Reon and Eita, both of them had really nice arms. Wakatoshi did, too, but Hayato had never gotten more than a shoulder pat from him. Maybe this time though? Since it was his last birthday with them? Third time’s the charm?
No, he shouldn’t get ahead of himself. He’d only be setting himself up for disappointment. It was more likely that Shirabu broke out into an impromptu dance number than that Wakatoshi hugged him.
The silly thought made him grin. Shirabu was usually very serious but every once in a while he loosened up. Hayato had seen him around Kawanishi after an exhausting training session or with Satori in the locker room when Shirabu thought that no one was paying attention. It’s like he showed his boyfriends another side of him that no one else got to see.
Except that Hayato knew about it.
And loved it.
It sounded stupid, but he really wanted to see more of it. He wanted to be the reason Shirabu laughed. And it wasn’t just about Shirabu either, he wanted Tsutomu to approach him when he got upset after a practice match and he wanted to be the one whose lap Kawanishi chose as a pillow when they were watching movies together. He wanted to carry Satori away when he was being overdramatic and wanted to kiss Eita’s forehead when he got sleepy. He wanted to hold hands with Reon under their lunch table and be someone Wakatoshi asked for advice - he wanted it all.
Because, as pathetic as it sounded, he had a crush on them. On all of them. Hayato knew that some of them were in a relationship with each other but he had never been brave enough to ask about the specifics of it. Maybe he was scared of the answers. He didn’t want to know who shared kisses behind stairwells or who was great to go to for comfort after a horror movie. No matter who it was, it wasn’t for him to take advantage of anyway. It was better he didn’t know. He had never felt left out or out of place spending time with them.
When his thoughts tried to take a darker turn, Hayato had troubles ignoring them. What if he was the odd man out? What if he was the only one who wasn’t in a relationship with someone else? What if he was intruding on their time-
No, that was stupid. Hayato shook his head and clutched his shoes a little tighter. He knew that they liked spending time with him. It didn’t matter who was going out with who, he was still their friend.
One corner later, he arrived at the locker room. A little surprised, he put his shoes down. He wasn’t the first one there. There were Tsutomu’s shoes right next to Wakatoshi’s and he was pretty sure that the black jacket in the corner belonged to Eita. The scarf on the bench belonged to Kawanishi and-
Huh. Was everyone else here already?
Quickly pulling on his shoes, Hayato entered the gym. He could see his friends huddled around one of the chairs that coach Washijou usually used. It didn’t seem that they had noticed him. Before he could call out a greeting, the door to the locker room fell shut and his friends jumped. Seven heads swiveled around to look at him with varying amounts of panic. Weirdly enough it didn’t seem to calm them down when he gave a casual wave.
“Hello, Yamagata,” Wakatoshi said. He was the only one who didn’t look like he was caught with his hand in a cookie jar.
“Hi?”
“We weren’t expecting you here so early,” Shirabu said. He shuffled a little closer to Tsutomu as if he was trying to hide whatever was on the chair from Hayato’s view.
Feeling awkward, Hayato rubbed his neck. “Ah, yeah. I was strangely motivated for training today…” His sentence trailed off as his friends nodded sagely. Had he interrupted something? Were they planning something for his birthday and now he had messed it up? After a second of hesitation, he added: “Something wrong? Should I come back later?”
Shirabu nodded quickly. “Yes, that would probably be for the best-”
“Are you kidding? It’s his birthday, we can’t just send him away,” Eita hissed. Hayato had to fight not to let his grin show, any concerns he had had were out of the window. It totally was for his birthday.
“No, seriously, it’s no trouble, I can come back later.”
“Yes, that would be-”
“Shirabu-”
Tsutomu frowned. “But he’s right, I think. We aren’t ready to-”
“Maybe we could just-”
“Everyone, calm down!” Satori exclaimed suddenly, cutting Reon off. He stepped out of the half-circle, unbothered by how his friends hurried to close the gap he had left behind. Hayato had caught sight of something colorful - flowers? It had honestly looked like flowers, which was unexpected but kind of cute - but didn’t think too much about it. It wouldn’t do to ruin their surprise, after all.
Raising an eyebrow, he watched Satori clap his hands. “Well, well! This might be a little earlier than expected but maybe that’s not such a bad thing. I have a plan. At least this way Eita-kun won’t start overthinking things.”
“Why must you always single me out every-”
“Shh, you’re ruining the mood,” Satori said, making shushing motions at Eita. Eita looked pissed but stuck to crossing his arms. “The point is, we can just go for it now. Why wait any longer?”
“Because,” Shirabu said, glancing at Hayato from the corner of his eyes, “we haven’t prepared.”
Tsutomu was quiet this time, but the way his fingers twisted into his shirt screamed louder than any words that he agreed with him. Kawanishi was sticking closer to him than usual, which Hayato wasn’t sure what to make of. Were they all nervous? Why? He wasn’t an especially difficult guy to please, some store-bought sweets really would have done it.
It wouldn’t have been his friends if they would have been satisfied with that though. With them, it was always about surpassing expectations.
Smiling to himself, Hayato crossed his arms. Shirabu, Satori, and Eita were involved in a heated discussion that Tsutomu slowly seemed to get dragged into. Before it could get out of hand, Reon stepped up and placed a calming hand on Shirabu’s and Eita’s shoulders.
Hayato’s eyes were immediately drawn to the gap in the circle. There was a bouquet of flowers, a bigger one than he would have expected. Weren’t flowers kind of expensive?
“Why don’t we wait for Satori to finish?” Reon asked. Hayato looked back at the three of them. Shirabu and Eita were both frowning at Satori but had backed down from their fight for now. For his part, Satori was entirely unbothered - he just grinned and patted the hand Reon had placed on Shirabu’s shoulder.
“Perfect! Perfect, thank you. My idea was that since we didn’t have time to rehearse anything yet, Wakatoshi-kun could just go for it.”
The group seemed surprised, blinking at Satori before turning towards Wakatoshi. Hayato followed their example, staring questioningly at their captain. Wakatoshi seemed just as confused as he felt.
“Me?”
“Yes, you! I mean, you’re kind of our spokesperson, aren’t you? You’re already used to speaking for the team.”
“This isn’t about the team though. There are a lot more people than just us on the team.”
“Semantics!” Satori waved Wakatoshi’s concerns aside and bounded towards the chair, lifting the bouquet of flowers and pressing it into Wakatoshi’s hands. “I’m sure you’ll do a great job. Don’t worry, the rest of us has got your back!” With these words, he began to hand out small wrapped packages to the others. Everyone accepted them with varying levels of hesitation. It was like the little presents increased their nerves tenfold and Hayato couldn’t help but begin to feel nervous himself. Just what was in these things?
Once everyone had their presents, they shuffled around to put Wakatoshi in the middle of their group. Hayato was familiar with it, they usually assumed that pose for official business. For some reason Wakatoshi looked unnaturally stiff though, his shoulders so tense that Hayato could almost feel it himself.
Silence filled the gym.
The more time passed, the more uneasy Hayato felt. Rubbing his neck, he told himself to calm down. He could feel Kawanishi’s gaze following his movements and realized that it was the exact same move the other always did when he was feeling uncomfortable. Dropping his arm, he gave the group a forced grin. “Is everything alright?”
Apparently, that was all Wakatoshi needed to find his footing again. He nodded once and took a decisive step forward. “Yes. There are two things we want to talk to you about. Firstly, we want to congratulate you on your birthday-”
“Happy birthday!” chorused the rest of the team. They bowed and Hayato quickly mimicked it before realizing his mistake. A little sheepish, he got back up and thanked them.
“And secondly, we would like to ask you to go out with us.”
There was a brief moment of silence. Hayato didn’t know about the others but for him, it was definitely one of shock. Wakatoshi had just asked him out on a date on behalf of the entire group. Did that mean that they were all dating? Did it mean that they all liked him back?! There was no way that was true. It just seemed unrealistic, what were the odds?
Hayato was still struggling to understand what had just happened when his friends began to mumble with each other. It felt like his heart was in his throat, he couldn’t hear what they were saying over the rush of blood in his ears. He only came back to the present when he registered Satori bowing and holding out his present, the others following suit.
“Was this really okay? What if he doesn’t like us back? Wasn’t it way too forward? What if he rejects us?” Tsutomu whispered nervously. Kawanishi responded in such a low voice that Hayato couldn’t make out his response.
Not that he needed to. After all, Tsutomu was talking about an entirely hypothetical scenario that Hayato felt no need to entertain. Now that the initial shock had worn off, it was easy to see how nervous they were waiting for his response. Hayato felt both flattered and like he was dealing with anxious teammates before an important game.
How odd. He had never been in a romantic relationship before and yet it felt like familiar territory. He was used to the team depending on him and he knew how to comfort his friends. Slowly, Hayato approached Wakatoshi and took the bouquet out of his hands. The moment it was in his arms, everyone slowly straightened up. They were looking at him with a mixture of fear and hope that made him want to give a hug to each and every one of them.
Smiling broadly, he clutched the flowers a little tighter. “Yeah. Yeah, sure.”
The resulting smiles on everyone’s faces really made him wish he had spent a few extra minutes looking for his phone. He never wanted to forget the pure happiness he saw there.
-
[After this there was definitely a group hug!!]
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gem-quest · 5 years ago
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[ O P H E L I A ... ]
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“There is no life I know to compare with pure imagination. Living there, you’ll be free, if you truly wish to be.” 
- Pure Imagination
Real Name: Catriona “Cat” Walsh Age: 20 FC: Saoirse Ronan Species & Class: Specter Bard Guild: Moonstone 
 Description of In-Game Powers: Specters are Gem Quest’s non-corporeal undead player race.  They’re notable for only having 9 stats instead of 10, with Strength being omitted from their stat lineup because they literally have no physical bodies.  Instead, their Willpower stat serves as their Strength equivalent.  This means they have a rechargeable meter of how much they can possibly interact with physical objects before taking a rest or recharging with a spell or potion.  Beyond that, Specters are distinguished by their inability to be damaged by non-magical weapons, increased susceptibility to light magic, and inability to be healed via healing potions or traditional physical healing spells (only a period of rest or spells/potions aimed at restoring mental wellness can heal them).  The non-magical weapon immunity is amazing lower levels, but it’s not long before everything thrown at you seems to be enchanted or blessed or cursed or whatever.  Weirdly enough, as far as the whole “incorporeal being” conceit is taken in other aspects, Specters can indeed take potions, as well as eat and drink.  They get decreased buffs from some potions and foods, though.  To balance this out, spells that provide small buffs and aren’t explicitly light-aligned are extra effective on them.
There’s a lot of frustration with the class because of its “fake” weapon resistance, since any old dagger with any mild enchantment or magical effect at all on it can hit them.  They can’t viably hit physical things in combat without specifically taking Knight, Rogue, Rider, or Mage-Knight as their class.  And even then, they’re arguably the weakest race choice in the game for non-magical melee combat.  Meanwhile, a lot of physical things and all magic can still hit them very hard very easily. 
All of this said, there ARE skills to really like here, too - namely, superb mobility.  Specters can pass through physical materials five feet thick or thinner as long as those materials aren’t specifically enchanted to prevent phasing.  They float slightly by default and have a rechargeable flight ability that allows them to lift much further off the ground in short bursts.  They also have a rechargeable ability (with more uses per charge than flight) that allows them to teleport from where they stand to any spot they can see within 20 feet without a spell as long as they haven’t been hit with an attack in the past 5 seconds.  This gives them excellent mobility even in the heat of battle and allows them to have a lot of control over their position and angle.  It also means that it’s often smarter for them to worry less about defense than about being hard to hit in the first place.
Place of Birth: Dublin, Ireland
Appearance: Ophelia has a Specter’s signature slightly translucent skin, under-saturated color palette, and skirt hem/legs that trail off into mist.  Her eyes are a stormy gray, and her wardrobe is almost exclusively black and white.  When it comes to fashion, she prefers some of the more dark Victorian-inspired looks in the game as opposed to the high fantasy, renaissance, or medieval looks that a lot of other characters favor.  That said, she’s got a pretty extensive and well-curated wardrobe behind her.  She considers it highly important that she have at least one appropriate black and white ensemble to wear in each and every level in order to fit in with the theme.  That said, she also has her own signature look that she uses as her “default” (the outfit she’s wearing in her pic at the top of her audition - full-body edit to be shared later!).  Oh, and she loves gloves and capes.  LOVES THEM.  And kind of hoards them, tbh.
Places Most Likely to be Found In-Game: Ophelia’s favorite haunt at the moment is the City of Magic in Level 11.  It’s the logical home base for a character who’s both a crafting/magical class AND a ghost. There’s a high enough concentration of both useful items and ingredients AND sufficiently gothic-flavored areas and NPCs to suit all her needs, both practical and aesthetic. She’s set up her own little shop in one of the many background spooky haunted house locations within the shadier-looking part of the city, and her Aesthetic demands she sometimes hangs out at the city’s main graveyard.  
Beyond that, she can sometimes be found in various libraries and shops across the levels she can access, looking for interesting bits of crafting knowledge, hints of new items she could try cobbling together, and items that she could modify or combine with something to make can even more useful item.  She’s also been known to turn up in random wilderness or roadway portions of levels in the first half of the game, foraging for crafting components that grow or randomly generate within those environments.
Current Inventory:
Screaming Lute (x1): Ophelia is very, exceedingly proud of her combat lute.  She crafted it herself out of her bardic starter instrument.  Specter Bards begin the game with an instrument they are capable of interacting with consistently.  Cat has decided that, within Ophelia’s story, this was Ophelia’s lute in life, and it was destroyed shortly before her death as a way of intimidating her.  Anyhow, Ophelia has heavily modified her starting weapon to the point that she thinks of it as an entirely new item.  It’s covered in strange etched carvings and shifts between glowing with an eerie red light from the inside and constantly trailing wisps of white smoke.  She uses it as her primary weapon in the game, as strumming specific notes and chords on the lute lights up some of the etchings and fires off various spells and magical effects and spells Ophelia has been able to learn.  The lute downright shrieks whenever she uses it to cast a spell.  How does it work, you might ask?  That is a very long story, and one I’m saving for another post XD  Most of the spells Ophelia has at her disposal are cast through her rune-covered lute and will be catalogued in her lute info.
Whispering Flute (x1): Ophelia likes rhymes and the aesthetics of symmetry.  A secondary combat and utility weapon of hers, this is a flute enchanted to fire off up to three charges of Ventium per day, and one charge of Murmurationium per day.  A good insurance weapon to sneak into a dangerous social situation, as it’s a perfectly normal and usable flute until she uses it to unleash the fury of the cold cruel winds of death upon you XD
Empty Unbreakable Bottle (x5): Ophelia favors magical items strongly because Specters can interact with non-martial ones automatically, without having to expend any extra effort or have at least X amount of Willpower to do so.  Unbreakable Bottles are the cheapest magical container commonly for sale in game that’s capable of reliably holding liquids, so Ophelia likes to store all liquids important to her in them.  And she likes to have at least a couple of empty ones on her at all times in case she wants to take a sample of something or otherwise just needs one.
Unbreakable Bottle of Rune Ink (x5): Rune Ink is an item that can be used as permanent and unfading ink that’s nigh impossible to remove or cover up.  More importantly, though, it allows a PC with knowledge of the game’s runes, basically a language of magic that appears in a level or two and on some items, to write runic symbols that absorb nearby magical energy and store it within the object with runes written on it.
Enchanted Carving Tools (x1): Basic carving tools, enchanted to be able to create magical items and inscriptions.  Ophelia uses them for crafting both magical and non-magical items, since any given item needs to be enchanted for her to be able to actively use it for long stretches of time anyway.
Enchanted Mending Kit (x1): Enchanted mending/tinker’s tools able to repair magical items without damaging their magical properties.  Ophelia uses these to repair any repairable item sent her way, for the same reason she also uses enchanted carving tools for everything.
Paxanimi Potion (x3): A potion that mitigates psychic damage or corruption and provides a temporary boost to a player’s Psyche stat.  For Ophelia, as a Specter, this is the closest thing she gets to a reliably available health potion.
Psychometry Scroll (x1): Allows caster to make one inquiry about the past of an object or place, then projects a scene or quote from the object’s or place’s history that provides a relevant answer to that question into the caster’s mind.  Without crafting very specific questions, the results can often be vague and unhelpful, as the game will take the path of least resistance in providing a vision that meets the requirements of the inquiry.
Ictuium Scroll (x1)
Second Sight Scroll (x1) (Learning)
Assorted Random Crafting Bits and Scraps
She actually has more inventory kept hidden away within her home base rather than coming with her everywhere.  Most of it is just more tools and materials and many, many changes of clothes.
“How much does it weigh?  Can I touch, smell, and taste it?  Can I put it in my inventory?  Is it magical?  Is it combustible?  How many knowledge checks can I roll on it?  Does it match my outfit?  Can I keep it?” - Catriona, literally every time she sees any new item in D&D
Strongest character trait: Imagination
Strengths: Ophelia is an immensely imaginative and resourceful person who comes to Gem Quest from a background of extensive fiction reading and making famously effective TTRPG characters.  It helps that she researched Gem Quest *extensively* before starting and continued to be active in forums and the GQ Wiki right up through getting stuck, along with getting early advice and support from a beta tester acquaintance.  Her ideas are typically wildly innovative and a bit risky, but to her credit, they pay off more often than not.  She’s slow to trust others with much critical personal information, but pretty open to giving others a chance and to judging people based on her own experience rather than on gossip.  Thinking on her feet is second nature to her, and she’s rarely at a loss for ideas.  Her devotion to her character and planned story arc have helped her to maintain a degree of focus and stability that’s thus far proven to be her most valuable coping mechanism. 
She’s generally friendly and pleasant despite her spooky aesthetic, story, and demeanor, and she will genuinely try to help anyone who asks her for it.  In business and in social encounters, Ophelia is considerate, well-mannered, and often downright chatty, though she usually knows to take a hint when people make it clear that they don’t want to talk.  She makes and offers a selection of odd but useful items at very fair prices because she’s not here to make a profit - she just needs enough resources to keep going.  She’s earned a bit of good will based on that.  Her skill in puzzle and strategy-based quests and willingness to dispense hints on the above, along with her crafting, has garnered her a good reputation as a support player and PC shopkeeper within her guild.
Weaknesses: Even knowing that the game is now a matter of life and death, Ophelia still seems to care more about her in-game narrative and goals than practicality, survivability, or winning.  A vibrant creative type who wishes no irl harm to anybody, she has a hard time conceiving that even the most blatantly destructive PCs would truly do harm to anyone outside the narrative.  She catches most of the references you make and then obnoxiously, steadfastly denies that she has caught them if you inquire, because Star Wars doesn’t exist in the world of Gem Quest and of Ophelia, dammit!  While her coping methods might be working for her internally for now, her devotion to staying in-character makes her a bit of an acquired taste.  She is very, very particular about sticking to character, even when it’d be more practical and less annoying for her to drop it. She’s been known to make important decisions that risk her safety (and sometimes, indirectly, that of others) in the name of “authenticity” to her character and story plans. 
Far, far too curious and adventurous for someone with a Defense stat of 2.  She has lots and lots of interesting ideas, all of which she gives equal chance to, plenty of which aren’t good.  Just because her creative ideas pay off more often than not doesn’t mean that there aren’t times when they don’t pay off.  And when they don’t pay off, they tend to not pay off SPECTACULARLY.  Reasonably likely to get herself killed enacting some inventive and exceedingly high-risk scheme to take out a dangerous boss before it can do damage. 
For some folks, the mix of creepy aesthetics and backstory and acting choices with effusive goodwill and pleasantness is more off-putting than inviting.  Arguably talks too much, especially when she’s nervous or upset.  Has a weakness for getting emotionally involved with NPCs, particularly minor NPCs with chains of side quests or that can serve as temporary companions, despite theoretically knowing that they’re just chunks of code.  Seems physically incapable of just sitting back and relaxing for a few without having to start some new project or come up with some new big subplot or plan. 
Plenty of folks are happy to buy her crafted items, but she has a bad reputation as an active combatant due to a few infamous Incidents.  At this point, only the truly uninformed, the truly desperate, the truly experimental, or the truly crazy in Moonstone would willingly party up with her XD
“Death has made me less than kind.  And very, very creative with a broken lute, who knew?” - Ophelia
Player Stats: Ophelia’s defensive strategy in combat is just to not be hit at all.  Her Defense stat is dangerously low, with any points that could buff it up as she’s gained levels and experience instead going to Agility and Luck.  She prefers to draw her “defense” from stats that she can get more versatile use out of.  She’s unusually low in Charisma for a Bard and has only enough Willpower to allow her to craft with physical items.  She can’t wield non-magical weapons at all.  However, she opted to invest a bit more in Psyche than a lot of other players did since a lot of a Specter’s durability lies in their emotional stability.  She also has uncommonly high Intelligence, which combines with her Psyche and Luck to equip her well for puzzle-based and strategy-based challenges.
STRENGTH: X
DEFENSE: 2
CHARISMA: 6
PSYCHE: 7
WILLPOWER: 7
CAUTIOUSNESS: 4
AGILITY: 8
ENDURANCE: 5
INTELLIGENCE: 9
LUCK: 8

Personality: (A lot of this is already in her strengths and weaknesses, so I’m putting a bit of a summary and some extra detail in here.)
She eats fictional media for breakfast, means well, talks a lot and talks often, has an overall spooky quirky nice one vibe (you know the type), fancies herself an actress regardless of the feedback she might receive, will (un)live and die in-character out of a fruity cocktail of artistic integrity and spite, is the Bard equivalent of a TV mad scientist who tends to cause the problem at the start of the episode with an experiment and then solve it in the last 2 minutes with a crazy genius plan that’s then shown to have not *totally* worked in a post-episode stinger, and is too smart for anyone’s good.  
Building a clear narrative here helps her bring some degree of organization and order to the wild creative whirlpool that is her brain.  She’d never considered herself much of an escapist until she discovered GQ, where she hasn’t escaped from responsibilities and work and struggle so much as she’s found an intoxicating degree of control over what her responsibilities and work and struggle are.  She can write a meaningful story here, be its central driving force, have the impact she increasingly feels like she’ll just never be able to have in real life, and stick her epic quest out to a glorious conclusion.  Ironically, she’s a weird mix of always needing an outline and a sense of narrative while ALSO constantly bursting with new ideas and clever but risky plans that she takes quite seriously.  Cat harbors perpetual mild guilt for feeling so restless and unhappy - after all, she’s lived comfortable life and has a family who loves, and it’s not like people have to like anything she makes or does or says in order for her to have a high quality of life.
“Think you're escaping and run into yourself. Longest way round is the shortest way home.” - James Joyce
Biography: Catriona Walsh was born in Dublin, Ireland to an Irish mother and an American father of Irish descent.  The family moved to New York City for her father’s job when she was just 5, but she and her mom remain close with her mom’s side of the family back in Ireland.  After 3 years in New York, the family moved to Columbus, Ohio, where Cat spent the rest of her young life, except for summers.  Most summers since she was 13, she’s stayed a couple months with an aunt and uncle who own a small tour company in Dublin.  From 16 on, she’s been helping with business while there.  Now she’s at college in Dublin and working at the company on the weekends, in exchange for staying with her relatives. She’s studying business for her parents and literature for herself.  
Cat has always had a great fondness for the tour company, though mostly for the actual tour guide end of it.  She’s a natural storyteller and explorer who delights in going off the beaten trail and sharing all she knows about xyz subject with anyone who seems interested.  Unfortunately, her improvisational bent has landed her in trouble with her aunt and uncle more than once.  There are schedules to keep and itineraries people pay to be taken through, after all.  This landed her behind the front desk of the office answering phone calls and administering group ticket sales, which she very nearly hates.
School is hard, especially with her true interest pushed to the side by necessity.  Feeling like none of her ideas ever get taken seriously is hard.  Making friends that last beyond one semester sharing a class is hard, and as she gets further into her college career, her future looks increasingly stifled and bleak to her.  Attempts to get some poetry and original music off the ground haven’t gone anywhere, ending in some spikes of faceless nastiness that prompted her to delete her one YouTube account and take a step back from social media about a year and a half ago.  Sure, she knows she’s supposed to have a thicker skin than that if she wants to go anywhere, and she *does* want to go somewhere.  But she can’t seem to make her skin much thicker.  She wants to argue with her uncle and aunt a bit more, as she increasingly disagrees with them on quite a few things, but they’re both extremely conflict averse, and she can be extremely lacking in tact about things she’s suitably worked up over.  
Through it all, she knows full well that so so many people have it worse, and that she has no reason to feel restless and dissatisfied and unhappy.  It’s just that she has a hard time connecting with people and feeling heard. She’s not alone, so why is she lonely?  Cat takes refuge in being the zany, intensely individualistic artist who’s sometimes worth inviting to a party for the interest value and who surely has friends somewhere - you just haven’t ever met them.  
For the past year or so, all the time Cat has for herself and an increasing amount of time that used to go into schoolwork has been split between her long-time refuge in tabletop roleplaying and her new favorite place: Gem Quest.  She’s part of two Dungeons & Dragons games currently being run on Roll20 (well, was a part of them, anyway), both of which she plays as a multiclassed build with some degree of casting put together for a mix of strong utility and intricate storytelling.  Gem Quest continues a years-long trend of being in love with exactly one fantasy video game at a time and playing it as much as possible, though it’s her first MMORPG.  
Catriona researched Gem Quest *extensively* before ever getting it or creating her character.  She heard about it from a fellow member of one of her online D&D groups, an avid gamer happened to be a beta tester.  Cat was drawn in by the idea of being able to entirely occupy the space of a created hero within a sprawling fantasy setting and be a version of herself designed as a protagonist in a world designed to be impacted by her.  She had a cousin who had a VR headset but decided it just wasn’t really his thing, so it wasn’t hard to convince him to let her use it for this.  After waiting to see more setting and story info during the early general release and researching everything there was to know about GQ thus far, including via discussion with her beta tester acquaintance, she entered into the game a short while after launch. She’s had time to level up, mostly in being an item crafter and utility character with a surprising capacity to serve as a highly mobile glass canon blaster (and inexhaustible source of very creative and very insane plans) in combat.
She also has a whole, novella-length backstory for her character - a summary of which I will post later! - that she treats as her character bible and guide for all in-game interactions.  It’s based on a single image of a skeleton in a black and white dress in some official art of one of the higher levels where there are a lot of scenic skeletons lying around.  This is the sort of brain Cat has XD


Ophelia, as a character, is the ghost of a minor noblewoman and court musician who was betrayed when she starting poking around into the disappearance of her older brother at court.  Her desires to find her brother and for vengeance brought her back as a Specter, but she came back a world away from the place she died and has to go on a quest to make it back and finish her story.  Cat built the character to be tied to a mid-to-late game puzzle-heavy level so she could have a big climatic Moment there.  Then, she’d continue to the end in search of her fictional brother.  Ophelia wields a spectral lute as a spellcasting focus and spends a lot of time pursuing leads about both her brother and her murderer (aka quests Cat finds thematically/aesthetically good for Ophelia).
Cat is VERY set on seeing this plot through and being the hero of her story, from start to finish, despite what’s happening with the game now.  She does her part to provide puzzle guides and crafting support for those working to beat the game, but she’s not going to rush through her story and suddenly snap back to being poor little ungrateful and inexplicably depressed Cat who has no place in anything and can’t do anyone much good with what she’s got.  While she’s in the game, she’s going to be Ophelia.  At least Ophelia has a *reason* to be unhappy and restless, a wildly creative and wildly striving brain tied to the world with a few wisps of smoke.  And at least Ophelia is good at what she does.
Never mind how much she adored aggressive exploration and creative combat at first.  She’s learned well enough that she’s just a liability there, she’s bad at being in a group, and, not so different from real life, she’s at her best when she’s just at the shop counter being support.  She’s already been booted from a couple of parties over her crazy plans, play style, and general personality. And there have been more than enough incidents with her pulling something crazy because it was in-character and genuinely seemed like a good solution with the resources given, usually with at least decent results but always with high risk, that no one in the know is willing to party up with her anymore. 
She’s kind of stuck either in her shop or going solo.  At least she makes good things, though, right?  And she’s just taking her plot slow because of she’s savoring and developing her story, not because people don’t really like conquering life beside her out here either, right?
Right?
Relationships: I’m very much open to some plotting and planning with anyone who’d like to try working something out!
In regards to side characters or such of my own, I have some ideas already for this.  I’ll fill these in as I finalize my ideas a bit more!
Char 1 -
Char 2 -
Char 3 -
Playlist: TBF Pinterest: TBF Extra: TBF
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starshipsandsuperheroes · 5 years ago
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1) i accidentally unfollowed you while trying to send this ask, thanks tumblr ui 2) regarding top dnd moments: have you had any moments where you suddenly realize something big about your own character? or like, a moment that sticks out as when you realized that the character had really come into their own and was something more than just you playing the role?
1.) that’s hysterical omg
2.) Yeah I actually do, weirdly enough?  (Also ty for indulging me on this alsdkjfasd ily)  I’ve actually got one who this happens to all the time - she really kinda lives like, independently of my immediate intent, and I feel like I’m constantly surprised by her.
For those that don’t know her, the character I’ve played the second longest is a rogue assassin named Amelia.  Her original name was Amelia Shepard, she started out neutral evil, and the only thing she really cared for was whatever it was gonna take to keep herself alive (yeah i went edgelord rogue it’s fine she’s working on it).  Currently, she goes by Amelia Foster (Foster being our party’s “family” name, which is of import in the world of the campaign), she’s a true neutral character, and while she still prioritizes her own life, she’s been known to take a few more risks for the party.
I remember sitting in Denny’s with my party a few months into playing her and the DM looking at me and saying the words “I don’t think Amelia is capable of love.”  At the time, I agreed with them, and as far as I could think ahead, that was gonna remain true.  She definitely got away from me though, and without me noticing, started taking steps closer and closer to true neutral.
There are two moments that stand out in particular on that path - the Tetanus Orb Incident, and the Karl Marx Incident.  It’s some of the most connected to a character I’ve ever felt while playing D&D, and I’ll detail them below a cut for anyone curious about what those were (to save dashboard space).
(also side note: it’s weird as shit in a very fun way to talk about my own pcs, because i feel like i usually end up doing so in a way where i frequently deflect to the rest of my party, so the last few days have been really interesting in reflecting on like, my own personal experiences dsjfalsdkfjas)
Curious about any of this?  Come ask me about it!
The Tetanus Orb Incident came at the end of a rather weird session.  We were playing in a room we’d never played in before, the majority of the party had been asked to leave the room for like a half hour and go sit out in the freezing cold hallway while the DM and one party member had a talk (in character about things we Couldn’t Know), and then we had come in and to make a very long story short gotten chased by a Rakshasa through a church while ZZ Top’s Sharp Dressed Man played for literally two and a half hours straight in the background.  For the most part, it was a really good time, it was just a lot of weird energy that ended up combining to, I think, set the tone in a very specific way.
We also had these things our boss had given us that, as far as we could tell, were little chalky orbs that could cause rapid onset tetanus.  Amelia was the most bound to our boss, and also deals primarily in poisons, so she ended up carrying them.  Generally the use seemed to be to put them in water and then cause rapid onset tetanus in everyone who drank of it.
There’s a scene that would pretty regularly play out.  Our boss was a terrible person, and hated us all, but for various reasons had it out in particular for Amelia.  We’d get back from a job, get a debrief, and the party would get into an argument with her.  She’d snipe at them, they’d snipe at her, this would go on and she would get more and more agitated, Amelia would say one thing in contribution, she’d set Amelia on fire (long story), the group would get her to let Amelia go, she’d drop it, and we’d go our separate ways until she singled people out to torment individually.  Sometimes she’d set other folks on fire to change things up, but it was a pretty cut and dry encounter we came to expect.  That scene started to play out when we got back from the Rakshasa chase - Elle (our boss) was already agitated from the incident at the church, so it didn’t take her too long to get worked up.
This time, though, she didn’t outright target Amelia.  It was sammygiddings’s Satomi that she turned on.  The room was shaped differently than we would normally have to play, and the physicality of the scene had increased a bit - people were standing, and our DM as Elle was walking between people.  They approached me in character and demanded one of the tetanus orbs.  It was technically hers, so I mimed fake obliging.  And then Elle told Satomi to open her mouth and moved to have her swallow it.
I was in motion literally before I realized what was happening.  By the time I focused again, I was standing too, my hand on my DM’s wrist, knocking it away from sammygiddings’s face.  At first I was embarrassed, because I hadn’t meant to get so into it that I actually, physically grabbed them to stop it, but the scene continued to play out without a word or anyone seeming weirded out.  Elle ripped her hand away, tossed me back the orb, called me names, and all the other fun stuff we were used to from that scenario played out accordingly (hope she’s rotting in hell, even though I know she’s not).
It wasn’t until later that I realized that Amelia had moved, not me, and for the first time ever had put her own neck on the line for someone else.
The Karl Marx Incident was the final domino in the line that started after the Tetanus Orb Incident and ended in... well, character development very few saw coming.  To make another very long story as short as possible, the campaign is an exercise in anti-capitalist theming, which is fucking delightful but also can get very dark, and one of the ways it got very dark was the sudden need to move around five million people out of one of the parts of the 50 million-person city when one of the powerful corporations tried to take over their part of the city via martial law.
Originally, the people in the area wanted to stay there and fight the corporation off, reclaiming the third level of the city as their own.  We went to find them to either see how we could help or talk them into something better.
It probably would have been a good idea to let wizardcowpoke’s Junie do all the talking , in hindsight.  The situation was far more of a setup for her to shine, and she was far more prepared for any sort of charisma skill check (especially at the time) as compared to my Bastard.  I found myself talking before I realized quite what I was doing, though - talking to the people to convince them their ideas of reclaiming the space were bullshit.  
The primary group affected were a union of what the city calls “divers” - the city tends to build on top of itself, and the divers were the ones that maintained the structural ruins that now acted as supports for the current “upper” city.  The group working to take over their level?  The corporation whose primary strength comes its monopoly on the train out to the desert.  Amelia, before I even realized what she was doing, began to rally the assembled group.  They were skilled, she reminded them, and they were survivors.  Fuck UMIC.  You’re stronger as a union than they could ever hope to be.  Go out to the desert, to the mountains.  Commandeer the train, start a new commune, and when you have the strength and resources to do so, build your own fucking railroad.  Take their greatest strength from them, but be patient about it.  You’ll wound them much deeper that way then trying to just kill every base level employee you come across.  With wizardcowpoke’s help, as well as the rest of the party, we managed to convince them to try it the long way.
We ran into other problems from this, including a false hydra later down the line.  But at the time?  The session finished, and the DM took my character sheet for a moment, erased something, wrote something new on it, and passed it back over to me.  My alignment had changed and I hadn’t realized it.
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