#As Days Go By ⁽ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ⁾

[armed-and-alxne]

“Hello? Uh.. who called you?” (Older Leigh with a certain guy causing issues at the bar; @mxrvelouscreations

@mxrvelouscreations

"Yeah, hi, sorry to bother you, ma'am. We received a call about a disturbance here. Sounded like a fight or an argument goin' on. Is this your bar?" he asked. While Barry was outside looking around the place to make sure the commotion wasn't from something outside the building, Luther went in to question the owner.

He was a very perceptive person, noticing little things about people. Right now, he was noticing how tense and nervous this woman was. "Doesn't look like you're open right now. Everything okay?" He started to look around a little. "Are you here alone?"

Quickly he realized she wasn't. "Good evening, sir," he said to a man who was giving off a completely different vibe than the woman. Compared to the woman's tense and stilted tone, the man looked completely relaxed and friendly. That... was actually a big red flag to Luther. "Any problems tonight?" he asked, looing back and forth between the man and woman, hoping one of them would explain.

Barry came in and shrugged when Luther looked to him. "Nothin' goin' on outside."

"Okay. You wanna...?" Luther asked, gesturing towards the man.

"Yeah," Barry replied, stepping closer to him, smiling professionally. "How're you doin', sir? If you could just step over here for a minute and answer a few questions for me, we'll get outta your hair, alright?" he said, whipping out a notepad and pen.

Luther, in the meantime, took Leigh aside a bit. Separating people to see if their stories matched was a typical police tactic to see if someone had something to hide. Even so, his tone became soft and gentle as he spoke to her. "Are you okay, ma'am? Anything goin' on you need some help with?" He was getting a vibe here, and he wasn't exactly sure what it was, but he didn't like it. His instincts were confirms when he stepped a bit closer to her, only to hear glass crunch under his boot. Looking down, he lifted his foot to see a broken pint glass on the floor. "How'd this happen?"

[palespawn]

ᵃˢᵒⁱᵃᶠ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ : 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒔𝒂𝒗𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒏.

⁰⁰¹. background: astarion was born and raised in lys, a mercantile city and one of the nine free cities of essos. despite the title, the city is best known for its roots in the slave trade, which his family profited off of and rose to prominence as magisters of lys. astarion's father was a magister on the elected council, a position he took over once he studied and came of age, and as his father's health declined. his family also profited off of astarion's looks, features strikingly similiar to the unique traits of valyrians ( white / silver hair, which is revered in lys ) which invited many propositions and potential consorts [ sidebar: while astarion may have a valyrian relative lost somewhere in his ancestry, this is purely speculation ]. during his last years as a magister, astarion met cazador ― one of the city's most prominent procurers. the two had been in the early stages of brokering a wealthy alliance, of sorts, before cazador orchestrated astarion's downfall and capture.

⁰⁰². magister turned vampire slave: astarion's disappearance had been sensationalised throughout the city, and he was soon declared missing. while rewards were offered for his safe return, days after he was presumed dead. in actuality, he was beneath the city, in an oubliette of cazador's making. for weeks he was abused and tortured, all manner of cruelty was inflicted upon him. a month into his captivity, cazador introduced him to the white bat. the white bat, or white vampire bat, is a creature that originates from sothoroyos ― an uncharted continent south of essos. during his early years as a procurer of less illicit means, cazador had come across the white vampire bat in his travels and was bitten. the decades that followed had involved experimentation on both himself and captured lower class civilians, with some exposed directly to the bite of the bat or it's blood. those exposed often died, and any who survived were later killed as they posed too much of a threat to cazador's existence. those he sought out much later, such as astarion, were instead bitten by cazador, and named his " vampire spawn ". these spawn, much like their master, presented with traits reminsicent of the white vampire bat ( red eyes, pointed fangs and ears, a taste for blood and longevity ).

⁰⁰³. dance of dragons: during this time, astarion is subtly reintroduced to lyseni society. his past life is gone, too many years have passed now for people to recognise him ― his family and those he once knew are now dead. he is a slave of cazador's, found primarily in any of his pillow houses scattered throughout lys. he is made to act as both a courtesan and scout, attracting prominent clientele to bring back to cazador. he's eventually permitted to neighbouring cities and beyond to procure on behalf of his master. near the end of the dance, rumors begin to circulate as more and more noble men and women go missing, coincidentally in the vicinity of cazador's establishments and often last seen in the company of his spawn. this prompts cazador to go into hiding, which by extension prompts astarion to try and abscond. this attempt fails and he's brought back and sealed in his old oubliette for a century.

⁰⁰⁴. post-dance to present: astarion continues to serve as cazador's puppet following his release for another fifty years. however, during one of cazador's many banquet's for the lyseni elites, astarion flees again― this time, for good. he makes it to braavos, and after weeks of thieving, deceiving and begging on the streets for the sake of survival, he ends up being indoctrinated into a known assassin's guild, the faceless men. here, he acquires the necessary skills to take on contracts and avoid recognition and recapture. however, he struggles to uphold the faith in the guild's god of death. the constraints of the guild coupled with his increasing desire for revenge on cazador interferes with his ability to abide by the creed of the faceless men. he defects and flees once more, and his whereabouts from here on out depends on the thread. he traverses essos in search of power and purpose or seeks passage on a braavosi ship, sun seeker, on route for westeros.

[freewillacquired]

Shedding The Past || closed with realprojectalice

@realprojectalice​ | {This is set after the events of Resident Evil: The Final Chapter.}

Almost nothing had been left of Nemesis after Raccoon City had been “sanitized” by a nuclear device. He’d been unconscious, clocked in the face by the wreckage of the Umbrella helicopter he’d shot down to protect Alice and her friends. When he woke, he couldn’t feel his body. That’s because he no longer had a body to feel. He was little more than a head, his brain miraculously protected by his thickened skull and the metal the helicopter had buried him under. Once he returned to consciousness, his mental distress combined with the trauma to his body and the lack of anything to hold it back caused the T-virus to regenerate at an alarming rate. It grew him a new spine, new organs, new limbs... all within minutes. But it didn’t just regenerate what had already been there, oh no. It was out of control…

Once the virus was satisfied with itself, Nemesis was nearly twice his original size. His body was now better equipped to travel on all-fours rather than walking upright on two legs, and he’d acquired tentacles on his back. They were long, thick, and had a mind of their own. His head remained the same size, but his body was broader and more heavily armored than before. Thick bone encased his oversized heart and lungs, and his hips and shoulders were more flexible in their range of motion. The vertebrae of his spine protruded through his skin, all the way down his back, the sharp bones extending up like spikes. His hands and feet were larger and more animal-like, with his fingers and toes now ending in razor sharp claws. It was as if the virus had been afraid of dying, and had overcompensated by re-growing Nemesis’ body to be larger, stronger, faster, and more durable than it was before… so that it would survive.

And survive he did, for many years after that. He’d never left his old stomping ground – so to speak, anyway, since his actual boots were long gone – around what used to be Raccoon City. For a long time he’d had hope that the infection wouldn’t spread, but that was quickly snuffed. After that, he did what he could to kill whatever undead he came across and help the occasional survivor, although he was always met with bullets, grenades, and anything else they could sling at him. That was okay, really. He understood. He was a monster, after all. That didn’t stop him from trying to help, though. It was the only thing that gave his agonizing life purpose.

Umbrella had tried to recapture him numerous times, but always it had ended poorly for them. After a few years… they stopped trying. There were no more survivors that he could find. The world was gray and dead. The environment he’d fought so hard for years ago was all but lost, along with most life on earth. So what had it all been for, anyway? Nothing. He’d tried so hard. Everyone had. And it all meant... nothing. It was a jagged pill to swallow, but despite it all, Nemesis refused to lay down and die. Not that the virus would have allowed him to do that anyway.

But then... after so many years of being alone... a familiar scent on the wind. Nemesis had been lying down near the entrance to the Hive, eerily enough the place he felt the most comfortable. Maybe it was because it was in some way connected to his past, to the man he used to be. It was something heartbreakingly familiar in a world where nothing would ever be the same again. But the moment he caught her scent, he was up on his feet and on point. Alice...? Nemesis sniffed the wind. He was sure of it, and he could feel her presence, her special brand of infection that he hadn’t encountered since that day in Raccoon City, back when there still was a city here.

He tried to locate her, but got distracted by the Cerberus bioweapons that had been released. For just a moment, in the foggy darkness of ground zero near the Hive’s entrance, he saw her. It really was Alice! She was with others and they were headed for the Hive. Nemesis knew better than to approach. He wouldn’t be well-received, he knew. But... he could make sure nothing followed them inside... He tore apart any and all bioweapons he saw, wondering what Alice wanted with the Hive. Was something going on? What did she know that he didn’t? As he killed the remaining Cerberus bioweapons and began tearing through the horde of undead that had suddenly overrun the place, he couldn’t help but feel so ecstatic to know that Alice had survived. It rekindled so much hope in him that someone could survive that long, and he had no doubt that all this time, Alice had done so much good for the world.

He lost track of time, killing as many undead as he could, until something very strange happened. They all just... fell over. Like a wave, spreading back as far as he could see. Confused, Nemesis backed away, wondering what had happened. He’d never seen undead behave like this before, and what was even strange was that he couldn’t sense any infected near him anymore. After they laid down, they only smelled like the dead, nothing more. He nudged one of them, but it didn’t move. What the hell? But since they all seemed to fall in a pattern, spreading out from a central location, Nemesis tried to find the source of whatever had affected them, tracking back to the front of the horde.

As he did so, he started to feel dizzy first. Then nauseated. Then very weak. His legs and arms trembled underneath him until they gave out and he crumpled to the ground with a pained bellow. It was hard to breathe and he began coughing up black liquid. His tentacles shriveled and fell off, and as he looked at his arms, he could see his flesh appear to ripple and begin falling away. Terrified, all Nemesis could do was make some pitiful noises of agony and fear as he watched his body begin to disintegrate before his eyes. And in that moment, he caught her scent once more, and if he could cry, he would have.

“Ah-lissss....” he bellowed, his voice gurgling with the fluid in his throat. Had she done this? Was that why she’d gone to the Hive? Had she found a way to end the infection for good? He wouldn’t put it past her. As he began to lose consciousness, Nemesis smiled in his own limited way. Well done, Alice... well done...

[geometragic]

Oichi-sama pls come home :(

[killthebxy-archive]

          if you don’t think that, in the default modern verse, Jon would actually tattoo SORY on his knuckles ---and, yes, one R is missing on purpose also because he’s -23 at spelling anyway--- for the single purpose of PUNCHING APOLOGIES into the people who are mean to his siblings --- reconsider.

[scarxetrebel]

 🔥   A FEVERISH DREAM 001.  ┋   →  @ofpxtestatem​​​​​

( ᵖᵒˢᵗ⁻ʰᵒᵍʷᵃʳᵗˢ / ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ )

       SCARLET BROKE HER VOW. she broke it, because she couldn’t stop the tears that slowly glistened down her cheeks. perhaps she was just deliriously exhausted, or maybe she couldn’t do this  ───────  couldn’t soothe him, couldn’t help him. thomas’ little torso lay bare, his feverish skin clinging to hers as he wailed and wailed, an endless torment that had been going on for hours. her mother had checked him an hour earlier, for the millionth time that day. she would be back again after her shift, but even though he likely had a bug of sorts, he didn’t need further medical attention.

       IT SOUNDED LIKE A LIE TO HER, as she rocked him incessantly. ‘ tommy, please. . . ’ she begged him, trying and failing to control her emotions. she was making it worse. turning him around in her arms, resting him on her less tired arm, she tried whispering sweetly- ‘ what do you need? ’  she rocked more, but wails only momentarily soften before turning into full-blown sobs. that made her cry more, too. scarlet had heard explosions, bones cracking; she had heard dragons the size of houses roaring with deadly anger  ───────  she’d heard screams of fear and terror. BUT THIS?

       IT WAS INHUMANE TO HAVE TO LISTEN TO IT. ‘ what do you need? please tell me. ’ a plea he could not answer, yet she needed to ask. cold lips pressed a kiss to his head, warmed and comforted by it if only for a moment. ‘ shh, shh, shh- ’ she patted his bottom in rhythm with the rocking, but it felt useless. the tiny wisps of AUBURN hair he had grown in the short three months since his birth were humid as she combed them back, desperation urging her to claw her own heart out to make the crying cease. ‘ mama’s here. . . i’m here. ’ . . .did that make it better?

       SHE WAS LOSING THE FUCKING PLOT. her crying turned into silent sobs as she got her phone. the screen was hard to see; vision blurred as her own disarrayed hair covered her eyes. words were hard to comprehend too, thoughts refusing to form as she remained attuned to the sound of his crying. she felt fucking overwhelmed. CHARLIE’S NAME showed up first, followed by ERIN’S, then JAMIE’S  ───────  it would be easier if she called them. but they had their own problems. . . and this wasn’t about HER. not right now. not when he was crying like this. 

       BUT THAT JUST MADE HER CRY MORE. lips trembled as she typed whatever came to mind,  emotions tethered to the edge of hysteria as she pressed send to multiple messages. she probably sounded absolutely insane and desperate. it felt like utter DEFEAT having to contact HIM, but that didn’t matter when she stared at tommy’s tormented little face. nothing else really did. ‘ daddy will be here soon, okay? ’ that had to help. she needed it to. sniffing and biting her lip to control the crying, even if just for a moment longer, she sang a song nonsensically─────── 

                  . . .TILL THERE WAS A KNOCK. scarlet rushed to open the door,                        sobbing at the sight of him. ‘ i’m sorry. i- i didn’t know what else to do- ’

[keybladc]

     ❛ were you by the beach ? you have sand on your arms. ❜ he moves on his own accord to brush the sand off her, an act so innocent he doesn’t register the closeness. ❛ you should’ve invited me ! i could go for a snooze by the shore right about now. ❜     |     @thalxssas ​   sc.

[nygmaa]

﹖ᶰᵒ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᶤᶜᵏᵉᵈ (ᵇᵒʳᵈᵉʳˡᵃᶰᵈˢ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ)

I. hyperion

hyperion. everyone who wanted to be anything worked there. if one was lucky enough to be able to get a job-any job-working for the massive weapons manufacturer. edward nashton had been one of those few, lucky people. 

he was smart, terrific at what he did, an easy pick for what they required. it wasn’t a high tier position, he was but an accountant, trudging through his daily routine, important enough to know what needed to get done and unimportant enough to be ignored by the higher ups. a nobody, really. well, to the ceo and sometimes--- well most of the time that had been a good thing, what with rumours that spread like wildfire around the massive station. but not unimportant enough for the people working alongside him. some he could deal with, the rest-- social skills weren’t exactly edward’s forte and as soon as those overly confident idiots he’d assume were his age or even older picked up on that, he’d become a target. 

seems no one could quite appreciate his smarts and quirky attitude, nor his affinity for puzzles and riddles. the jokes were all in good fun, at first. he could play pretend and laugh it off. but they were relentless. odd. weirdo. freak. some of the words ed had eventually become numb to, trying to keep a positive attitude, despite it all as he continued with his daily work. what had been a daily routine edward had pretty much resigned himself to had become living hell, day by day. up until things go to actual hell--- quite literally. 

hyperion was done for. his entire wing had gotten fired, an evacuation taking place and ed, frankly, did not intend to stay behind to figure out just what had been going down, prefering to keep himself alive, finding the ultimate solution to this particular problem in a mutual acquintance. with a set goal in mind they had made it out, leaving the carnage behind.

II. pandora

pandora was ... something else. everything ed had heard about it had ultimately been true. a barely habitable planet, inhabited by vicious wildlife and bandits that did whatever they wanted, took whatever they wanted and killed whoever they wanted, for whatever reason. 

it was .. wild, for lack of better wording. luckily for the pair, they had found use of an old hyperion base at the start, for as long as that had lasted. first come first serve, the base had been abandoned and with hyperion gone, they could build something new for themselves here. an awful choice for a planet, really, but one that was ultimately going to have to be used well. and worked. for a while. but their ideas for how to continue differed too much, until they had ended up parting ways, in the end.

with little to no belongings to have been brought with, ed resorted to purely survival for survival’s sake. it was ... freeing to say the least. he’d gotten accustomed to the bandit lifestyle fairly quickly as he ought to, would he want to survive on this nutcase of a planet. joining clan after clan and outsmarting whatever nincompoop was their leader was how ed had ultimately made a name for himself. it was entirely too easy, really. most of the bandits he’d come across ... weren’t the brightest of the bunch, he was. stringing them along and playing the part was too easy. 

his talent for the theatrical and love for puzzles definitely did not go unnoticed here. leaving clues behind after raids and what else, ed would ultimately become known under another name: the riddler. gone was edward nashton, even now, he’d named himself edward nygma, instead. a fun play on words, leaving his old self behind, in hyperion’s rubble, dead to the world for all he cared. 

III. the riddle factory

while playing bandit was all as fun and exciting as can be, ed’s want to be in the spotlight thirsted for more. there was value in entertainment, he figured. psychos, bandits, whoever had ended up making his life on pandora was easily succeptible and awfully easily entertained by the most ridiculous of things. it wasn’t difficult to find a following, not with his reputation--- nor an abandoned, broken down warehouse, that had been remodeled and re-done in the riddler’s image. 

‘riddle time’ in his ‘riddle factory’ - a show, one he could get a kick out of, presenting a number of puzzles and riddles, with the rules quite simple. solve the riddle or .. well, die an awful, horrible death. entertainment, right? throw in a gorgeous prize if one were to win and those suckers would pile up like crazy. standing a microscopic, though closer to zero chance of beating him. and it did prove to be quite popular, with bandits applying solely for the chance to get at him, less for the prize, though ultimately signing up for their demise, in the end. 

     who could beat the riddler at his own game, afer all? 

physical appearance

(i tweaked this design a bit, grabbing influences from arkham games mostly in order to make it as borderlands-y as possible & had it commissioned, so DO NOT under any circumstance take this and claim as your own. this art was paid for by me)

also icons i commissioned to better show the color palette :3c

[dorums]

but he will hunt me into my days.

those words did not utter a sound from her lips as her own met turkage’s in a sweet and tender way , however she did have to hold back her comments that involved her husband as they seemed to be piling up within her thoughts and within her mind’s eyes. she felt pressed. she had recently lost child to rasvarn and had another one on the way , however this wasn’t something she cared to share and if she did ( ... )

would turkage still embrace her like she was now ? or would she toss her aside at the door ?

not to mention how turkage felt about rasvarn. a stabbing pain of guilt overwhelmed montage for she did not feel the same way that turkage did towards him. she still loved her husband. like endless gold , yet here she was , loving another. who was to say her crime wasn’t fitting ? that the stabbing pain of guilt should even go away.

could she handle turkage leaving tonight ? leaving her behind ? all those times they shared , all those memories they had made. 

“ i ‘ ll go with you .  “ she made her decision , “ but if we must go we should go soon. tonight! i ‘ d need to take a few things out of my room without waking up rasvarn. “ 

[     ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ  ⁰⁰²  .   ] club montage   .  :: 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒 ? .  //  @elfgodus

“DONT”

“        why       are         you          stopping       me        ?          “

montage felt her back being pressed almost roughly into the wall behind her    ,   eyes  dilating to stare at the female. wondering what she had possibly done for such an outburst     ,

“       is        there         something       you        need       to       tell        me    ?   “

she asked in her naivety. looking into the other ‘ s eyes like that might fix the problem.

[     ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ  ⁰⁰²  .   ] club montage   .  :: 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒 ? .  //  @elfgodus 

[eikyuuxparadise-archive]

tag dump #1

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[geometragic]

                   Wait a second...did Asselin have a last name ? Would it be...’BB II’ ? But no...how could that be ? Surely ‘Asselin BB II’ must have been a stage name or something, right ? So what was Asselin’s real name... ?